So, after about 3 months of footage sitting on my shelf, I finally got down to editing this commercial:

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The quality of the video isn’t the best right now, but I figure this gives a good depiction of the warped brain that my friends and I share.

Speaking of warped brains, the above commercial is the official sponsor of The Kevin Murphy Show. I also edited a little trailer for Kev’s show (once again, the video quality needs some work and you might have to turn the volume up a bit  here):

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Stay tuned for more episodes from Kev’s show when I get my ass in gear and edit them for him. I will also try to make the quality of the final cuts a bit better. For now, enjoy.

I have officially given my two weeks notice at my job. I am ecstatic! I am jubilant! I am so PUMPED that I could punch a baby….IN THE FACE! Oh, and if you think that you could never punch a baby in the face, then you have never experienced pure, unadulterated joy!

Yup, the city of New York’s version of Footloose is being upheld by the courts for the 80th consecutive year. That’s right, because we can’t have people consuming alcoholic drinks AND have them go dance with each other. That might lead to, God forbid…..SEX! OH NO!!! Lord knows we can’t have that happening here, of all places, in New York City. No way.

The New York State Supreme Court stated that, “Recreational dancing is not a form of expression protected by the federal or state constitutions.” Really? I think Crispin Glover would beg to differ with that statement:

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I can only pray that my offspring will rock out as righteously as these little boogers.

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Ladies…tomorrow IS Valentine’s Day….so if you want to help me get a jump start on the whole offspring thing, I’m not that hard to find. 

Today I had the delight of passing a former political guru from my home state of Massachusetts; Gov. William Weld.

Though I don’t reside on his political side of the spectrum, I thought I would seize the opportunity to be a bit curdious to the man who once governed my home. In passing, I looked Mr. Weld in the eye, nodded, and  politely said, “Governor Weld.” In fitting form, ‘ol Bill Boy ignored and kept walking. I found it quite poetic, actually. For years he ignored the voices of those who called the Commonwealth home WHILE he was governor. Why should he change now?

“Naa, Naa! Pppttthhhh!!! I have health insurance and you don’t!”

If there is any consolation, at least it wasn’t former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney that I passed on the street. If that were the case, a SERIOUS wedgy would have been dolled out on that jackass.

It has taken a full month, but FINALLY (through bizarre circumstance) I have coined my own personal phrase/mantra for the New Year.

2007: THE YEAR OF THE TAP OUT

You have been warned!

Lately, the past few Fridays I have felt like Scott Howard

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If you ever find yourself milling around at work with some time to kill and are simultaneously self-absorbed, may I suggest Googling your name. Or, better yet, Google Image your name and see what comes up.

Here are just a handful of my results:

I am honored and quite flattered

Um….okay. For some, this may make a bit of sense.

This is kind of weird because I think I may be this guy in about forty years.

OH HO HO…..

YES!

Here it is…..

SHAZAAM!!!!

The irony of this whole pciture search is that I made the same, exuberant face sitting at my desk while coming across this gem. I kind of felt like Steve Martin’s character in “The Jerk” when the phone books came in.

PS - I usually make this face when either a) the pizza delivery man has arrived at my door or b) when I climax during sex. So it looks like I either just received a pie of pepper and mushrooms or a rough HJ from a Bridge-n-Tunnell hussey. You be the judge.

It is often said that one’s New Year’s Eve celebration is a microcosm for the oncoming year. If that is true, 2007 will be chock full of embarrasing moments which in turn will render me alone.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

 

 ”Boooo fucking hooo!!!!”

 

“What’s that? Oh, you’re not an unborn fetus? Well then, my concern for your life is done. Please go away. That is, of course, until you turn 18 years old my little booger. SEMPER FI!”