Best Birthday Present Ever!

Ahoy hoy to the armies of webheads religiously checkin' our site (Steve's sister). Just a quick note to let you all know what your daily doctors of buffoonery have been up to.

Last weekend, in anticipation of our upcoming website launch (huge) the four of us decided to go on a team-building excursion. Since I currently call Japan my cribby we had to find a convenient geographical location. We wound up agreeing on Yonkers, NY because Justin doesn't have a car and Andrew didn't get off work til after 5 on Friday. I was fine with Yonkers because rapping artiste DMX is from there, and he reminds me a lot of Ja Rule (who I love).

What an enriching experience! I won at Trust Falls 5-0 against Steve, we got into a human knot in no time, and our midnight game of Truth or Truth had us all in the nude within seconds. But the best moment came as a real surprise to yours truly. And for it, I have to once again send my heartfelt thanks to all the guys.

Now as many of you know, I was an accident. But what may come as a surprise to you is that my parents tried to cancel my delivery. Unfortunately for them I was a lil trooper and prevailed! As a sort of eff you to the ole rents I was born a twin. My better half, Reggie Weiner, lived for only 8 months. Ever since his passing I have felt a sincere lack.

That problem is now solved. As we gathered up Schlitz cans on Sunday morning Andrew handed me a well-ventilated cardboard box. On the top it read, "For the family." As I flipped back the top I saw a porcelain spiral. At the shell's end were a few tiny red nubs. Tied around it was a string and tag that read, "Hey Sean. I've missed you." Reggie was back.

To have Reggie the Hermit Crab by my side has made the world sparkle again. People say hermit crabs don't do anything. Well, neither do 8-month-old babies.

And the funny thing is, I don't know how the guys did it, but every now and then Reggie moves to a new shell. And when he's crawling naked across the gravel, he looks exactly as I remember him.

Thanks guys. Best birthday present ever.

-SW

Seriously?

"Crap, how do we pull this campaign out of the gutter?"

"Shhh, all you need is a ten-gallon hat and a racial slur on sign."

BILLARY '08

-SW

Let the Internet find the Funny for you!

As something not entirely dissimilar to performance art (SEE: sliding in mayonnaise in tighty-whities because owls are dying) I have fashioned a formula for funny:

Dictionary.com's Word of the Day + Google Image Search of said word = LOL ROFL LMAO!!!

And away we go...

sine qua non \sin-ih-kwah-non; -NOHN; sy-nih-kway-\, noun: An essential condition or element; an indispensible thing

-SW

United We Stand

Haha... yeah, that's... that's funny. So, you know how I'm like an English teacher? You know, in like, the southern rural Japanese island of Kyushu or wherever? Yeah. So, this one student who I hate. I mean, I don't hate just one student. He asks a teacher how to say the word, "sex" in English. And the teacher hands him a electronic translator (Fine Japan, solve every problem with a gadget!) Well, after a very telling 15 minutes with the gizmo he approaches my lunch table, where I am eating a large bowl of dried fish and nuts, and says, "You and your girlfriend are united." And I think, "He's sweet, even mildly poetic." A smile curls at my mouth's corners jettisoning a couple curled minnows from the left side. Then, unhappy with my reaction, he puts his index finger repeatedly through a hole made by his other hand. "United Sean? Yeah, yeah!" he twitters. I chew my fish and nuts and blink.

Later in the day while lamenting my geographically-dictated segregation, I realize that in my mildly short life I have flown Sex Airlines, hail from the States of Sex, and when my grandfather used to root for the Baltimore Colts he rooted for Johnny Sex Us (and back then safe uniting was the taboo). I look up from the linoleum floor and am just like, "United Yeah!"

-SW

More Topical Internet Humor!

[applause]

"Thank you, thank you, it's great to be back in Peoria.

Anybody have the internet? [applause] Yeah, me too, me too. Who's got AIM? [more raucous applause] Ha ha! That's like everybody in here! I mean, that pregnant lady over there... I was like, "Who's got AIM?" and I swear to God I heard her stomach echo, "Yeah I got that!" [laughter]

Anyways, I've got AIM, and you know what I hate most about AIM? No, it's not the bloop bloop sound every time you're chatting with someone. And no, it's not the surprise attack from some buddy you don't remember adding. And, it's not even the fact that this program is single-handedly responsible for bringing the word, "buddy" back into our daily usage. [laughter] No, no, no, the thing I hate most about AIM are the cutesy suggestive Away Messages [scattered laughs and a single cough].

You know the ones! The ones announcing to the virtuworld, 'Hey guess what I've been up to?' while safely hiding behind a feigned veil of mystery. For example, here's one, IMAQT 6472: '1st of many, wink icon' [winks in a hilarious imitation, crowd goes absolutely bananas]. Or, 2hot2trot483: 'Am I supposed to still be smiling, smily face, three question marks' [another imitation, another boisterous response]. It just kills me to read this! It's like shouting across a crowded subway car to a girl listening to her Ipod, 'And I thought magic wasn't true dot dot dot!' Chances are she doesn't even hear you, too busy listening to her illegally downloaded Shins albums and 'windows-shopping' for something cute [solid fit of laughter and applause, they're a bit tired because this is all so very funny].

That's why I'm on AIM right now. VANESSACARLTONROX24: If you ever try that again I swear to God I am calling the cops. [Uproarious boom of merriment.]

Thank you very much. Good night!"

[applause that seem as though they will never end]

-SW

This Just In!

Nothing says, "Wicked gay" like Republican Leadership.

McCain '08

-SW

The Apology

I am sitting in the meeting room at Kuju Junior High School in rural southern Japan. Across the table from me is a pudgy Japanese Charlie Chaplin look-alike, the principal of the school. We are bare-footed, drinking coffee, and pretending to have a conversation (to have a conversation in earnest two people must speak the same language). Somewhere between, "I live in New York City. I eat hot dogs there" and "Sean-san, I have a daughter you should meet. You can be my son" we get to discussing the wafer-light subject of religion. No one is Jewish in Japan, which is both a phenomenal band name and a little-known fact. In the midst of conveying my pseudo-Jewishness Principal Charlie Chaplin's face drops and his eyes glaze over with emotion.

Dropping to a full bow he says, "Very very sorry for World War."

I am speechless is an understatement. I manage to string together, "Hey, don't worry about it." Which is perhaps too nonchalant. Then I stare out the window at anything. Anything.

And that is how Japan apologized to the Jews and officially ended World War II.

-SW

Race to the White House

"(Insert a japanese salutation later) to everyone!

From the the chain-linked fences of West Warwick Rhode Island to the great bubbling grease pits of Barrington Illinois, from the glass-speckled concrete lots of Jacksonville Florida to the dumpsters brimming with slimy sacks of silicone substitute in Santa Monica California. It is this great nation that I first met in grade school when Mrs. Davenport, my first grade teacher, banged out a wicked rendition of Woody Guthrie's This Land is Your Land on her bedazzled autoharp. And it is this nation, this song, and this fine gaggle of comediennes that I wish to connect eternally in this inaugural post.

It is with great respect and honor that I compete with my fellow patriots in this great race. Andrew, a proven hero to this nation, stationed in Honolulu Hawaii for nearly two years in the late-nineties, a man who has served his country. Certainly my stint removing six-pack plastic seals from soccer mom's necks may be seen as a greater deed to our country than his daily diet of Aloha Burgers, Cherry Coke, and Goldeneye, but I am not the judge of this competition, the American people are. Or Justin, a man whose belt is made of the pages of the bible itself, undulating the good word with his every garish gait. And certainly least importantly, Stephen, the heiress himself, who's boyish grin and pastel pantsuits were power-walking to the front office only a few months ago. But now my friends, now things have changed.

With change comes great responsibility. Responsibility for your land. For our land. This land was your land, but with these victories today, this land is destined to be my land.

It was only last Saturday that a native Utah man with a buzz cut told me that he could not understand my words since he 'doesn't speak ghetto.' And here, two days later, it seems that my voice has been heard. Things are going to change. Stephen tells me no one can make his aunt happy anymore and I say, 'Yes I can.' Justin wants to know if I could incinerate those incriminating photos of him and Haley Joel Osment and I say, 'Yes I can.' Andrew asks me if I can help him apply topical ointment to his blistering hemorrhoids and I say, 'Yes I can.'

The American people ask me if I can be the leader they need in this time of... ahem... need and I say, 'Yes I can.' Being funny however, that we can only hope for."

-SW