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A lawyer opened the door of his BMW, when suddenly a car came along and hit the door, ripping it off completely. When the police arrived at the scene, the lawyer was complaining bitterly about the damage to his precious BMW.

“Officer, look what they’ve done to my Beemer!” he whined.

“You lawyers are so materialistic, you make me sick!” retorted the officer, “You’re so worried about your stupid BMW, that you didn’t even notice that your left arm was ripped off!”

“Oh my gosh,” replied the lawyer, finally noticing the bloody left shoulder where his arm once was, “Where’s my Rolex?!”

Two attorneys went into a diner and ordered two drinks. Then they produced sandwiches from their briefcases and started to eat.

The owner became quite concerned and marched over and told them, “You can’t eat your own sandwiches in here!”

The attorneys looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and then exchanged sandwiches.

Lawyer: Did you actually see the accident?
Witness: Yes, sir.
Lawyer: How far away were you when the accident happened?
The Witness: Thirty-one feet, six and one-quarter inches.
Lawyer (thinking he’d trap the witness): Well, sir, will you tell the jury how you knew it was exactly that distance?
The Witness: Because when the accident happened I took out a tape and measured it. I knew some annoying lawyer would ask me that question.

People occasionally ask me, “What’s everyone from Beauty & the Geek doing nowadays? Do you all keep in touch? Is Ashton really the father of Demi’s baby?” Truth is, I don’t have a whole lot to tell them.

Aside from Richard, the geeks are doing whatever they were doing beforehand and a lot of the beauties have moved out to L.A. to pursue acting careers. (If I recall correctly, Caitilin is still working in the fashion industry and Cheryl is going to school, but the others are aiming for media stardom. If it was up to me—which it isn’t—they’d be working their asses off on stage and screen and earning lots of money that they could use to fly me out to visit once in a while…)

As for what Richard and Lauren have been up to the last couple months, check out this link. Looks like the WB may have found someone else (or elses) to host the new season…

Oh, and as for Demi’s baby, no one can prove it was me sneaking out the window that night, so someone please tell the paparazzi to stop bugging me.

In the book I’ve been reading to prepare for the bar exam, it provides an example for the risk of loss when selling goods. It includes a brief “with all due respect to German-Americans, Bob Knight, and Trey Parker and Matt Stone,” then begins…

Karl, a grocer in New Ulm, Minnesota ordered coffee from a New York seller. Even though the coffee was shipped in the best available containers, rats “infiltrated” the coffee while it was in transit. The coffee was delivered; the grocer paid for the coffee. The grocer then opened the packages of coffee and wrote the following letter of complaint:

Schentlemens:

Der last two pecketches ve got from you off koffee was mit rattschidt gemitz. Der koffee may be gute enuff, but der rattsdurds schbeels der trade. Ve did not see der rattschidt in der sambles vich you sent us for examination. It takes so much time to peck der rattsdurds from der koffee.

Ve order der kelen koffee und you shipt schidt mit der koffee; it vas a muschtake, YA? Ve like you to schipp us der koffee in van sak und der rattschidt in a udder sak. Den ve mix it to suit our kostomer.

Write please if ve shutd shipp der schidt bak und keep der koffee or if ve shudt keep der schidt und shipp der koffee bak or schipp der whole schidten verks bak. Ve vant to do rite in der madder, but ve don’t like dis rattschidt bizziness.

Mit mutch respeckts,
Karl Brummenschidt

Earlier in the week, we had a combination of rain and snow, then three days with high temperatures in the teens. I haven’t spent much time outside the house—I like my testicles hanging outside my abdominal cavity, thank you very much. Naturally, the weather led to some nasty consequences. Here’s a conversation I had earlier this afternoon:

Dad: Have you got an ice scraper in your car?
Me: I’m not sure, lemme check.
[Insert grunting sounds]
Dad: What’s wrong?
Me: I can’t get the door open.

Yep, the rain froze the car completely shut. I tried pulling the handle with both hands, pounding around the edges of the door to loosen it up… nothing. I eventually got a jug of hot water to melt the ice and a wooden slat to slide around the edges and pry the bastard open. Once that worked, I wiped off the door (it would have been pretty sad if I’d let the water sit there and freeze the door shut again), then went driving for about twenty minutes. With the motor running and the heat going full blast, I managed to get the ice on the windows to melt, all four doors to open, the trunk and hood to pop… now I just have to remember to drive around the block once in a while to make sure my car doesn’t turn into a giant metal ice cube again.

Product Name REALITY TV

Category Episodic

Union Status Non-Union

Run(Usage) Casting starts week of Nov 14th

Rate $500 daily

Production Company Double D Productions

Callback Note If approved, usually 2 week callback wait time

Audition Dates Starting Week of Nov 14th…

Audition Location
Glendale Studios
121 Lexington Ave
Glendale CA 91203

Project Notes
Do you want to be on a new hot Playboy show??? Are you wild, uninhibited and se*ually free??? If you’re single and between the ages of 21-35 we would love to hear from you.

The show will be about 2 hot guys and 2 hot girls spending a 24 hour period in a gorgeous luxury mansion to see where it leads. This is NOT P0RN, there is nothing expected……it is a REAL REALITY show with 4 hot singles looking to explore their wild side. It is Playboy so you must be very comfortable with your body and nu d ity…basically we want the types that would jump in a pool n a k e d because they love their body and they are proud of it!

Each person will be paid $500 for the 24 hour period and all expenses paid. We look forward to hearing from you.

Thanks, Ron

Audition Note

Do you want to be on a new hot Playboy show??? Are you wild, uninhibited and s e x u a l l y free??? If you’re single and between the ages of 21-35 we would love to hear from you.

The show will be about 2 hot guys and 2 hot girls spending a 24 hour period in a gorgeous luxury mansion…

“Full of alcohol.”

Last night, I went to a dance club for BG’s birthday party [short for “birthday girl”]—first time I’ve ever been to one. I know, scary, but true… Some of us stayed until closing and I had a lot of fun there, but part of me is seriously disgusted after experiencing first-hand what women have to deal with when they go out to party on the weekends.

There were so many times when we were walking around that guys asked the girls to stop, sit down and talk, have a drink… my friends were obviously smart enough not to. Still, it was strange to see them going around together as sort of a support network, helping each other avoid any guys who thought they might get lucky with one or more of them. Or maybe it wasn’t seeing the network that was so strange—it was the necessity of having one.

Towards the end of the night (i.e., 1:00 in the morning), people started to leave and I became BG’s official protector. It isn’t hard for me to switch into “Big Brother” mode—I tend to be protective of my friends as it is. I also tend to be a people-watcher when I’m in the middle of a large group, but this time, I was doing it out of caution, not curiosity.

Unfortunately, there were several times that required said caution. One guy started hitting on BG while they were sitting at the bar, so I kept my hand on the small of her back to make sure they both knew I was there. If he thought that meant we were a couple, made life easier for me. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to lose interest, though that probably had more to do with her sudden loss of conversational skills than anything I did.

Later on that night, I was sitting in a tall chair and BG was leaning back between my legs, talking to a friend she’d recognized while we were there. Some guy walked up and started whispering into their ears. When he asked them out loud if they were sober… well, they weren’t. Then he asked if I was. Mind you, I don’t drink, but BG turned her head and mouthed the words, “Say no,” so I shook my hand to signify “sorta.” He started whispering into the friend’s ear again and she said something to the effect of “No, I don’t want to go and meet your friend.”

I figured I needed to do something. I moved my hand up to his shoulder and gave him a slow shove (dunno if that’s how people shove when they’re drunk, but that’s what I was aiming for). “Dude, she doesn’t want to go, just leave her alone.” He looked at me, then started to walk away. As he did, he was saying I needed to chill out and reached out to pat me on the cheek.

I’m not sure why that pissed me off so much, but I snapped my hand around to grab his wrist and glared at him. It took a second for him to respond, but he did: “Shake your head. Shake your fucking head.” I wonder what he might have done if I hadn’t done anything—it would have been a little strange to get into a fight with a drunk guy the first time I’d ever been to a club like that—but I figured it’d be a lot easier to do what he said. I shook my head, let go of his wrist and he walked away. Once again, “girls go through that all the time when they go out.”

It was easy to see why—there were plenty of women (with states of sobriety equal to or worse than BG’s) bumping and grinding and making out with random guys on the dance floor. If you’re looking for action and acting like an asshole works, why not, right? Don’t worry about me, I’m too much of a nice guy—I could never bring myself to do something like that. Being nice isn’t a bad thing, of course, and I think that’s why being at the club felt so disturbing at times…

I’m afraid I’m not in a position to apologize to all women for all the assholes out there who are looking to take advantage of you on a regular basis, but at least I can take comfort in not being one of those assholes—I’m much better at gettin’ my groove on while playing the role of “Big Brother.” Anyone wanna dance?

I just thought of a great pair of men’s novelty underwear: breathalizer boxers. Get a pair of underwear, write “Breathalizer” on the crotch, then add this two-step process:

1. Insert into mouth.
2. Blow.

I was sitting in the family room trying to study (as per my usual routine nowadays) and not being terribly effective (as per my usual routine nowadays) when I heard a loud *WHUMP* on the roof. I figured that with the strong wind we’ve been having today, it was a really big branch that got blown off a tree.

I thought about getting up on the roof to check it out. Then I remembered that the wind was strong enough to blow really big branches off of trees and there were still really big branches hanging over the roof of the house, so it probably wouldn’t be in my best interest to get up on the roof and stand underneath them.