We love how sometimes we report the news and we think we're breaking it

From the AP: Saddam Hussein, the shotgun-waving dictator who ruled Iraq with a remorseless brutality for a quarter-century and was driven from power by a U.S.-led war that left his country in shambles, was taken to the gallows and executed Saturday, Iraqi state-run television reported.

Why we need a new job, reason 1,965

"HAPPY FRIDAY!!!" she said, dancing in our cubicle. "THREE DAYS OFF THIS WEEKEND YAY IT'S FRIDAY IT'S FRIDAY IT'S FRIDAY SMILE!!!"

We think we're close to losing it

And tonight's put the milk in the cupboard moment is brought to you by putting the paper towels in the fridge.

Awesome. Because, you know, that's where the paper towels go. In the fridge. Top shelf. Between the eggs and the wine.

Why we probably won't see the new one

It doesn't get any better than this.

Right?

Today's what the f*ck moment is brought to you, once again, by the President of the United States and his dumb war.

Seriously. What the f*ck?

We did like him when he was on the Eagles, sort of -- he had cool dances and stuff

But we didn't like him in the aftermath of the Super Bowl two years ago, especially when he started doing sit-ups in his plush Cherry Hill driveway. And we really don't like him anymore, what with the ME ME ME all the TIME TIME TIME.

Anyway, there's something utterly and totally satisfying about the following AP story by Stephen Hawkins:

IRVING, Texas (AP) -- Terrell Owens is 0-for-2 against the Philadelphia Eagles. That's the least of his problems.

While he wore a Cowboys-branded Santa hat on his head, Owens certainly wasn't joyful Christmas night. His frustration was evident after a 23-7 loss, when he scored the only Dallas touchdown, then complained several times that not enough passes are coming his way.

"I just feel like I'm not involved early in the game," Owens said. "Everybody knows that's what I do. Every team that I've played on, I've been involved early and often. It's hard to get in the flow when you're getting a ball here, a ball there."

Owens had only three balls come his direction before halftime, all on the drive that ended with his 14-yard TD pass with 36 seconds left to get Dallas within 10-7. He also caught a 9-yard pass and another attempt resulted in an illegal contact penalty against the Eagles.

Those were Owens' only catches in the game.

After the Eagles stretched their lead to 16-7 in the third quarter, Owens let an almost perfectly thrown deep ball by Tony Romo go right through his hands along the sideline. He said there should have been a penalty on Brian Dawkins, who was defending him.

"He bumped me way down the field and I started to regroup. By the time I looked up and located the ball, it was right on me," Owens said.

"All receivers are going to drop the ball," Romo said, downplaying it.

Romo, the Pro Bowl quarterback whose 142 yards were his fewest in his nine starts, threw toward a double-covered Owens early in the fourth quarter. Dawkins was there again, making a nifty over-the-shoulder grab for an interception.

"Late in the game, they start throwing to me," Owens said. "By that time, it's too late. I'm giving full effort. I want to be involved."

Owens didn't have a catch in the first half in his much-hyped October return to Philadelphia, when he finished with only three grabs for 45 yards and the Eagles won 38-24.

This time, Owens hardly had an impact and the Eagles took control of the NFC East race. Dallas could have clinched its first division title since 1998, but now must beat Detroit and have Philadelphia lose to Atlanta in the regular-season finale. The Eagles and Cowboys are both 9-6 and guaranteed playoff spots.

"It's not necessarily embarrassing that we lost to them," T.O. said. "I was embarrassed by the way we played offensively."

Owens insisted it wasn't a personal grudge match for him against the Eagles, the team that he helped lead to the Super Bowl in 2004 before being suspended midway through last year. That included his bitter and public feud with quarterback Donovan McNabb.

T.O. certainly doesn't have a problem with all the Eagles. He spent part of Christmas Eve visiting with some of his former Philadelphia teammates at their hotel.

"What about it?" Owens said. "That shouldn't have any bearing on the game. That's my time and you know those guys are my friends. I'm not going to shy away from my friends for anybody."

As for what he might say to his current quarterback about getting the ball more, Owens indicated that the problem wasn't Romo, but rather the plays being called.

"I don't think it's necessarily anything Tony and I need to talk about. He knows that I'm going to try my hardest to make some plays for him," he said. "When the plays aren't really designed for me to get involved in the offense, he's going to go with the plays that are called."

Owens even got in on defense for a play, as a deep safety about 30 seconds after his touchdown at the end of the first half. But Jeff Garcia, 4-1 since replacing the injured McNabb, instead dumped the ball for a shorter gain and left 1 second on the clock for a half-ending field goal.

(Photo by Ronald Martinez, Getty Images).

The dog that brought our family together

This is Cameron.

The folks had him for a week. They'd taken him in from a family in Central Jersey who kept him in a cage all day and couldn't care for him properly. They loved him.

The story isn't funny, or first-person plural storytelling-worthy or anything. It's more about what happens when awful, tragic things happen to good people.

See, I was holding Cameron's leash when he wiggled out of his collar and bolted across the street yesterday.

He was hit by a car and died a few minutes later. I'll spare you the rest of the story other than to say that for the last 24 hours, I've been reliving every single second leading up to when this happened. Everyone says it wasn't my fault, and that these things happen for a reason.

Maybe, in time, I'll believe that.

This morning, Christmas morning, my dad told a story about a sermon he once heard years ago. The minister said he came upon a man standing in his garden, looking forlorn and digging his hands through his pockets, clearly not interested in the world around him. The man was so devastated by his loss that he was simply giving up.

The man told the preacher his dog had died, and the preacher took a moment to ask him if he loved his dog.

"Yes," the man said.

The preacher than said it's in loving things that we all suffer true loss, but that the trick about life is you kind of have to go through it loving things, and losing things, and loving things some more.

I knew Cameron for five hours. In those five hours, an 11-month-old yellow Lab with a turned-up smile taught me, and my family, so, so much.

I'll forever blame myself for not stopping him. For not doing enough to prevent him from getting away.

But I will forever recognize the importance of friendship and family every day.

I guess that's the lesson Christmas tends to bring -- but most of the time it's in empty words and rhyming cards.

This year, it came in reality. I wish we didn't lose Cameron for me to recognize that.

I hope you all had a safe and warm Christmas holiday. And for those who don't celebrate Christmas, I hope the faith you believe in, and your faith in humanity and in the ones you love, is as strong today as it's ever been.

But we thought she was so in to McDreamy

So in last night's dream, Ellen Pompeo is tending bar and all we wanted to do was order another Guinness.

She'd been making those sparkly, sexy eyes at us all night, and we weren't biting. After the way she treated George, what would she do to Old Man Snap? Plus, she was a bartender. Sparkly, sexy eyes is what they do.

In turn, we did what any self-protecting/loathing/deprecating Norm Peterson would do. We ignored her when she tried to talk to us while waiting for the Guinness to settle. And we ate beer nuts.

"Old Man," she said, eyes still sparking. "HEY! Do you want to go out with me or what?"

"Huh?" we replied, taken somewhat by surprise, even though Ellen Pompeo is tending bar and flirting her ass off with us and we're dreaming this, every last second of it. "Well. Sure. But only if we agree there's no future whatsoever."

And then Ellen Pompeo reached across the bar and kissed us on the cheek.

"You're too cute," she said. "It's a deal."

We maybe blushed.

LAB MOMS!

Check it.

Oops

Miss Nevada oughta be ashamed of herself, actin' out the way she does. Good Lord oughta give her a piece of his mind, we reckon. Maybe a good span-- no. We're not that much of a hack. Come on, y'all. You should know better.

All y'all.

All we have to say is thank goodness she's been dethroned. Because these things matter and youngins look up to role models, yessir.

File this under things we never thought we'd see in Bridgewater, N.J., even in the WaWa

We know. Again with the WaWa. But we think a tranny was in line in front of us, so this is important.

She grabbed a li'l blue baggie of plain M&Ms and ordered two packs of Marlboro Reds.

She scared us a little bit maybe, but not because of the whole tranny thing. It was more the eating the M&Ms at the mag rack and putting the packs of Marlboro Reds into the suitcase of a purse she had on her.

She also annoyed the sh*t out of us while we stood in line with the searching through her suitcase for money and then the paying and then the taking forever to put the receipt back in the suitcase and then the opening the bag of M&Ms and eating them, post paying and while we were about to put our wrap and Sun Chips on the counter.

It so wasn't morning, though, and we just worked out. So no anger issues. Yay, us.

What our horoscope says, and our oh so important interpretation because, you know, it's important to interpret these things

It says...
Quickie: Friends in high places are expecting more of you. But follow your own path today.

We say...
We're so listening to our J.T. "My Love" supermix all morning, especially on the b*tch commute. And we're so dancing. Happily. Dancing sexy-like. Aw hells yeah.

It says...
Overview: You've been eyeing an objective for a long time, especially since you know it's well within your reach. In fact, you've been prepping for this for the longest time, whether you realize it or not. The stars are on your side.

We say...
HAH! We knew there was a reason we've been playing the geetar for 779 straight days. But who's counting, you know?

And so it ends

Good luck, A.I.

Thank you, Time Magazine. We'll do our best to make you proud each and every day the good Lord allows us on this earth.

We're speechless, really. Finally, some f*cking recognition for what amounts to daily brilliance. Thank you, Time. It's about, um, time.

How to handle a crisis accordingly

"There is no tactful way to give you this information."

How f*cking awesome is that?

So they picked the finalists

Just wait until next year, we say.

Old Man Snap: From New Jersey, this 32-year-old self-deprecating former fat kid is a real charmer on stage. Shy by nature and good-lookin’ to boot, OMS threatened to lay the smackdown on the judges during his second Nashville Star audition. "I told you y’all need some Jersey up in this beeyatch," he said before nailing a rendition of Dierks Bentley’s "Got a Lot of Leavin’ Left to Do" and slamming a Schlitz, even though the rules explicitly say alcohol is banned from all auditions.

We liked the sex better

Our fives of readers may remember last week's story about the best wake-up call ever*.

So this morning, around 5ish, we swear on our good name that we were awakened awokened woke up because someone in a nearby apartment started rehearsing for American Idol.

We swear we heard someone belting out Queen of the Night or some sh*t. We swear.

Payback for our night-before panic practices for Nashville Star? Maybe. But we weren't all Fantasia with our sh*t.

Huh. We don't know. Now that we think on it, maybe it was a dream. Who sings Queen of the Night at 5 a.m.?

Huh.

* We've given up all hope on BEST ______ EVER. We know. It's just that it's the best adjective ever.

Just like in Goodfellas

So remember the ending of the Goodfellas, when the helicopter looms everywhere?

We think we're being followed.

We woke up to it, and it's still looming, this chopper. It's circling our apartment. Loud rumbling. Then faint rumbling. Loud. Faint.

So either some idiot in his personal deathtrap is circling the local airport, trying to land. Or there's a really bad accident on the nearby highway and it's a life-flight type thing. Or maybe awful news happened, and the news chopper is dancing in the sky getting B roll.

Or we're really being followed.

It's creeping us out. It's making our windows rattle. We'll update again when we can.

If we can.

Unless they get us.

Um. Help?

Was it because the Serbs rioted?

We told you they didn't like the new ball.

We know it's been awhile since we've been to the gym, but boy times sure have changed.

Since when is it OK to walk around the locker room in some tight-ass tighty whities? And since when is it OK for the same dude in tighty whities to be all up in our bidness with back hair? Ew, y'all.

Ew.

And now back to quoting health papers we wrote in 1991 and got B-pluses on, again.

I see the act of homosexual love-making as repulsive to me as a Friday the 13th movie. But seriously, I feel I have a slight case of homophobia.

Awesome, young man bombing-comic was a homophobe. He also rambled on about tabs and slots and what not, because he was an "old-fashioned kind of guy."

Ew. We hated ourselves enough back then. No need to start again now. Everyone, love-make. And go. The more the better, that's what we say. Love-make it up, y'all.

What might be wrong with politics on the whole, as well as the American voter.

From the CNN this morning:

Rep. William Jefferson won re-election by a wide margin over fellow Democrat Karen Carter in a Louisiana runoff. He returns to Congress for a ninth term despite an FBI bribery probe in which $90,000 in cash allegedly was found in his home freezer. His presence in Washington could be embarrassing for Democrats, who won control of Congress in part on a platform of cleaning up corruption.

Dr. J. Andrew Toney. Mo Cheeks. Barkley. Dawkins. Malone. Iverson. Hawkins.

He's more like our number 2 favorite Sixer after Charles, and that's saying a lot.

Thanks, A.I. for stomping all up in Ty Lue's bidness.

"As hard as it is to admit, a change may be the best thing for everyone," Iverson said in the statement. "I hate admitting that, because I love the guys on the team and the city. I appreciate that in my 11 years in Philadelphia, the fans have always stood by me, supported me, and gone to bat for me."

Check it at 4:48:

Why we stew at work sometimes, and by sometimes we mean a lot

"I want to go to (store that closed)," she said. "But it closed. Since it's a chain, can I type it in in googles and see where there's other ones?"

Again with the dreams

So last night, Vince McMahon told us in our dream that we were in charge of World Wrestling Entertainment's tag-team division. Old Man Snap. In charge of booking matches and writing storylines for every single tag-team in all of WWE.

Thanks, Mr. McMahon, we said, and shook his hand firmly.

That'll teach us to write about war-torn countries right before we go to bed

So we had two dreams last night.

In the first one, clocking in around 3:08 a.m., we were taken hostage and put in a 1986 Russian internment camp. We are denied good food and drink and taken away from our family. We are told Communism is the way to go. But we do meet a good-lookin' fella named Jon. He tells us his name doesn't have an h and pats us on the back. He tells us it'll all be OK.

In the second one, clocking in around 5:36 a.m., we're at the shore house on the porch, watching a cheerleading pyramid challenge in the backyard, only those aren't cheerleaders down there. No, they're moms and dads and they're children. The top of one of the pyramids toppled toward the porch, so we grabbed the two kids from atop the pyramid before they fell three stories to their certain deaths.

So there's that.

Nobody likes the new ball

Those crazy Serbs are at it again.

Because you were wondering

1. What is your occupation? Blogger. Genuinely good-lookin’ fella.

2. What color are your socks right now? Not wearing any. And totally freeballing, too.

3. What are you listening to right now? David Gray.

4. What was the last thing you ate? A Philly burger. Tasted like a cheesesteak. Now we have the stomach pains.

5. Can you drive a stick shift? Word.

6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Burnt Sienna.

7. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Our best gal.

8. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Yes.

9. How old are you today? 98.

10. Favorite drink? Half-and-halfs. Yes. Plural.

11. What is your favorite sport to watch? The English Premiere League.

12. Have you ever dyed your hair? We once went with the Sunburst. No more, though.

13. Pets? Plant.

14. Favorite food? Salmon. We know.

15. What was the last movie you watched? Walk the Line.

16. Favorite day of the year? All of March. If not that, then Saturday.

17. What do you do to vent anger? Beat the sh*t out of geeks.

18. What was your favorite toy as a child? Our AWA wrestler and ring set. We were so the Champ.

19. What is your favorite fall or spring? Spring, though Fall is growing on us.

20. Hugs or kisses? Aw hell yeah. More, even.

21. Cherries or Blueberries? Strawberries. WHAT. That’s how we roll.

22. Do you want your friends to email you back? Readers, unite.

23. Who is most likely to respond? All of y’all should hit this up in the comments.

24. Who is least likely to respond? All of y’all.

25. Living arrangements? A porch and a parking lot suffices.

26. When was the last time you cried? Watching Grey's. Shut up, you.

27. What is on the floor of your closet? Dust.

28. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending this to? N/A.

29. What did you do last night? Slept.

30. Favorite smells? Vanilla.

31. What inspires you? Being in tune.

32. What are you afraid of? Forgetting all of the words.

33. Plain, cheese, spicy burgers? Cheese. But not so much with the Philly burger. Again. Pains.

34. Favorite dog breed? Bulldog.

35. Number of keys on your key ring? Not enough. We should have more keys.

36. How many years at your current job? Too many! HAH! LOL! ROTFL haha.

37. Favorite day of the week? Saturday.

38. How many states have you lived in? Two.

39. Favorite holiday? Halloween. We love us some costumes.

40. Ever driven a Motorcycle or heavy machinery? We don’t want to bust our pretty face Big Ben-style, so no.

Things we never really ever want to hear at work. Like, ever. Yet, we did today.

"I would've done the C-section myself if I'd've known that."

These things never end well, not even in the Wild Things, which is never on the PBS, even though it says Wild Things on the schedule

From the AP:

NEW BRUNSWICK, N.J.: A popular Colonia High School teacher who coached the girls varsity soccer team was indicted yesterday on charges he exchanged sexually suggestive text messages with a 17-year-old female student and tried to cover up the alleged crime.

A Middlesex County grand jury charged Michael Petak, 30, with official misconduct, two counts of witness tampering and a count of attempting to destroy evidence by erasing copies of text messages recorded on his cell phone.

The grand jury accused Petak of having inappropriate sexual conversations with the 17-year-old student and, over the summer, attempting to convince her and an unidentified acquaintance to destroy copies of his text messages.

Petak, who is married and the father of a young child, was suspended from teaching after he was arrested and charged in September. He has pleaded not guilty and remains free on bail. No trial date has been set.

We got nothin'

We know. We're above sh*t jokes and the like. But come on. This is the most f*cked up story y'all will read in quite sometime.

Wow. Poor lady. Our Aunt Marge passed gas once. Oof.

"What," she said. "I'm gassy."

Granted, she's developmentally disabled, not hellaexcited to light a match a plane.

We can't believe we just typed "passed gas."

Ew.

They did what, now?

Huh.

Are we too racially sensitive? Are we losing our minds? It's about snow, right? Right?

WHITE CHRISTMAS
(Irving Berlin)

G Am D
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
C D7 G
just like the ones I used to know
G C Cm
Where the tree tops glisten and children listen
G Am D7
To hear sleigh bells in the snow
G Am D
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
C D7 G
with every Christmas card I write
C Cm
May your days be merry and bright
G Em C D7 G Am D7
And may all your Christmas-es be white


REPEAT, then finish with:
G Em C D7 G
And may all your Christmas-es be white

Oops. Didn't make church again this morning

But did catch this on the VH1 Classic/Current.



Testify.

Rock stars are people, too

See? People do write back on the Myspace. The following is an in-depth, friendship-defining conversation between OMS and Jesse Valenzuela, kick-ass guitarist and harmonizer for the Gin Blossoms.

We're so opening for them next year*.

----------------------------------------------------

Hey (OMS),
Thanks for the kind words. It was a real good time for us. I loved walking around in your town, very beautiful.
Take care, Jesse

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: (OMS)
Date: Dec 1 2006 4:09 AM


Hi Jesse,

Saw your show last night in Morristown. Your solos were fantastic. The back of the room was with you, too -- not just your side.

Good luck with the rest of the tour.

(OMS)

---------------------------------------------------

*Not really opening for them, no.

We don't think that'll work, Brian

So we saw the Gin Blossoms in concert last night.

At said concert, Brian stood in line for the urinal, pen in hand, card at the ready position. He then wrote his name, legibly, on said card, complete with phone number. Feeling it, he then put the card back in his pocket, clearly wearing the look of someone who's gonna get him some at a Gin Blossoms concert.

He then took a piss.

On his way out, he grabbed a paper towel after not washing his hands.

Good luck with the ladies, Brian.

Who needs an alarm clock?

We know we were dreaming, and then we thought our alarm went off, and then we heard moaning. And then we heard a grunt, and then more moaning.

Like, hot chick porn star moaning.

Faintly, it came from either directly below our apartment or in the downstairs apartment next across the hall. She was definitely moaning. He was definitely grunting. It happened several times, in unison. Toward the end, there was definitely some speed involved.

And then a sigh.

It was 5:09 in the morning.

Nice.