Yeah Baby Austin Powers

New Underwear Lane comic:

I dare ya not to laugh.

The Miserables!

Here's some advice for the kids: All women are completely different.

I know this flies in the face of conventional man-wisdom, but I've honestly come to believe this. Women might as well all be members of different species.

However, guys are all the fucking, goddamn, jesus christ, son-of-a-b same.

pink moustache

I made this pink moustache, and I took a lot of pictures during the process. Some of the early shots vanished mysteriously. Boo. (Ghost boo, not opposite-of-yay boo.)

Please visit my flickr page for lots of juicy pictures of this baby at every stage.

Beech & Peach

I hate myspace and i've always hated it, even though I've had a myspace account for a long time. Way before you.

I started it as a joke. Back then nobody knew what it was, and a friend sent me a link to her myspace profile. I guess I made my own profile to sort of make fun of her a little bit, which seems sort of mean now.

And I'm guessing that the myspace people want their name to come across as if it's being cooed by a jet-age stewardess but it's always had stampy-foot-Shirley-Temple tantrum-y connotations for me. "Go away, you bad, bad man! This is MySpace! (italics mine)"

But now when I say I hate it, people look at me dumbfounded, like I said I hated air.

So I'm just going to hold my nose and force myself to go on there more often and integrate myself back into society.

Wish me luck!

BB Gun

Here is a brand new Underwear Lane comic just for you.

Some of the #1 Causes

Funny and spontaneous comedic riffings for you to quote with your friends at parties:

What on earth? "Death Chocolate?" No thanks!

"Bitch Pack!" What? And what is "Ass Garlic?" Is that even a thing? Sheesh.

Boy. Now I've heard everything! "Rectum?" Who'd want that?

Big Lily of the Big Valley (Girl)

And just 'cause I mentioned people having "crushes," it doesn't mean that I have a "crush" on anyone. It was like a joke or something. You know, like a "knock, knock" joke?

When someone tells a "knock, knock" joke, they're not actually knocking on a door. Ok? Get it?

Fifty points for anyone who can tell me what kind of fallacy I just committed. You know, red herring, straw man, slippery slope, etc.

(The three preceding paragraphs were designed to be read aloud in a Shining/Cuckoo's Nest-era Jack Nicholson impression. Live a little.)

Cat and Mouse and Dog

At what age are you too old to have "a crush?" Like, when you're 90, do you have "crushes" on people?

It's not "cool" to have "crushes." The Fonz never had "a crush" on someone.

I know, you're thinking he had "a crush" on Pinky, but he didn't. The Fonz had "a thing" for Pinky.

And that's a completely different thing.

Two-fer For Sunday

That's right, check it out: Two episodes of Underwear Lane for the low, low price of one.

We're trying to favor quantity over quality for a bit, to see how it goes.

Benchwarmer's Delight

When I was riding the shuttle at school today, an elderly black woman got on at one of the stops. She was well-dressed, with a cool early-60s hat, (but not the pillbox kind you're immediately imagining, but the other kind, more like a ladies' little lo-profile fedora) and two big bags of luggage. It's kind of unusual, because usually it's only college kids on the shuttle.

So I helped her with a bags a little bit, and I mean a very little bit, like to the extent that I was almost ashamed that I didn't help her more, but I had hesitated because most people don't like strangers all up in their crap.

So I help her and she starts talking to me about how it's so nice to see chivalry because she's from Tennessee ("There, a man is a MAN."), so I said something about how some women don't like it when men do chivalrous stuff because they find it demeaning and patronizing, so she starts talking about how men are not only physically stronger than women, but that men are also intellectually superior to women, and less prone to things like vanity.

Right? So of course I had to totally talk to her for the entire shuttle trip, during which time nobody else on the (jam packed) shuttle made a peep. That's the only reason this is worth mentioning at all, because there was so much pressure on me to entertain not only this woman, but all 50 people on the shuttle for the whole ride.

I did not ask to be put in this position. I shoulda been like all, "Lady, look: This requires more effort than I'm willing to expend right now, ok, so would you mind just selecting somebody else for this?"

Beach Blanket Alley

I was thinking about how we think of Donald Duck as sort of a "loser." Here are some possible reasons:
1. Really insecure
2. Has a Speech Impediment
3. Greedy
4. Has a bad temper

Don't you think that's kind of cruel for Disney to have created a character with so many problems? Isn't that really fucked up?

In a way Donald Duck's not really a loser though, because he rose to the top of the Disney pantheon from among many characters, most of whom are all but forgotten.

But still, that doesn't make it right.

New New New

Hey! Check out the all-new Underwear Lane comic. It's more fun than a barrel.

Ben Franklin Boogie

I've come up with a new "words to live by" children's limerick along the lines of, "God made the dirt and dirt don't (sic) hurt."

Here's mine: "God made poo, and it can't hurt you."

(Honestly, I'm not sure if two lines constitutes a limerick, and I'm pretty sure you care less than I do about it.)

I Don't Want

...to overstate the obvious, but eggs are REALLY, REALLY GOOD.

Outboard Motor

This is kind of good.

Guess what just happened. You'll never guess. I'd better tell you.

Backstory: Ok, so I've got this next-door neighbor who wants exclusive rights to the parking space in front of his house. He accosted me a few weeks ago as I was getting out of my car and started going on and on about how the city will tow my car if it's in the same spot for 72 hours, and how I was in one particular space for two weeks (which, I later figured out, was the space that he felt he was entitled to). I basically told him that since I live right here, it makes sense that my car would be parked here and that I'll park anywhere I feel like parking. See here for more details of that episode.

What I forgot to mention in my earlier account was that the guy has been terrorizing the neighborhood for years.

When I first moved in a few months ago, Carl across the alley told me to watch out for that guy, and to make sure that I never leave my car in one place for too long, because he'll call Parking Enforcement.

A few weeks later, I was standing on my balcony at 3 AM when I heard someone yell-whispering, "Hey! Hey neighbor!" I looked down and it was Steve from across the street, calling up to me. "I just wanted to warn you that the guy next door to you is an asshole! If anyone's ever parked in front of his house and the car hangs over into his driveway, even an inch, he'll call Parking Enforcement and they'll get a ticket. He's done it to me before! That guy's an asshole!" then he told me the same thing that Carl across the alley told me, that he'll call Parking Enforcement if he thinks any car hasn't moved in a few days.

I don't know how I could have forgotten to mention all this in my original account, but there it is.

I should also add that I've seen chalk marks on my tires, indicating that Parking Enforcement is observing my car to see whether it 's moved in 72 hours, and that the city will only come out and do that if someone calls them to report the car. This means he's been trying to have my car towed, knowing fully well that it's my car and that I drive it and I live right next door.

OK, so today I parked my car in front of his house. Not in his very own personal space, but just behind it, leaving plenty of room in front for a normal car, but not quite enough for his giant truck thing with the Angels "A" and the Jesus fish.

When I was walking the dog later, I noticed that his truck thing was, interestingly, parked in his spot. His rear bumper was (no lie) about an inch away from my front bumper, and the front of his truck thing was hanging over his driveway a couple of feet. If someone parked close behind me, there'd be no way I could've gotten out of that spot.

I think everyone knows that it's illegal to block a driveway with your vehicle. I guess he kind of thinks the law applies to everyone else except him, kind of, or something.

Then I started thinking, "Hmm, Parking Enforcement...hmm. I can't see any reason why I shouldn't be a good citizen by reporting this infraction to the proper authorities!"

So I looked up the number and I called, figuring if it took more than a minute, I'd just forget about it, but it only took a few seconds before I was talking to someone.

I said, "Yes, there's a car blocking the driveway out front. It's nearly impossible for anyone to get in or out."

The Parking Enforcement guy said, "Ok, do you want us to cite it or tow it?"

?!?

I asked, "Isn't that up to you guys?" "No sir," he responded, "It's up to you. Of course, the car needs to be blocking the entire driveway for us to tow it."

"That won't be necessary," I said. "A citation should be sufficient." He told me, "All right, I'll send someone out there."

Good ol' City Hall!

You see, I've never attempted to exact revenge on someone before. Oh, sure, I've defended people's honor(s), and told people off, and played a practical joke here and there, but nothing like this.

I was convinced that nothing would happen.

A few minutes later, I was in the kitchen, and I saw, through the window, the telltale yellow lights of Parking Enforcement illuminating the surrounding buildings. Imagine my glee. I crept out onto the balcony, and peered over the railing. The Parking Enforcement guy was walking around the giant truck thing, shining his flashlight on the license plates, and writing something on a little tablet. I swear to jesus, my heart was beating so fast. I was positive that it was going to backfire on me right then and there. I imagined the Parking Enforcement guy spotting me and pointing, "Hey you!"

Then, as swiftly as he had arrived, the Parking Enforcement man disappeared, in a whirl of glittery glitter, leaving a gleaming white parking ticket on the windshield of my neighbor's giant truck thing.

Viva la Revolución!

Att-i-CA! Att-i-CA!

I have the strangest sensation, something I've never felt before. What is it? I can't describe it. What can it be?

Ah, yes!

It's JUSTICE.

Project #1: Birthday Card

Now's the time of year when charities send you Christmas cards in the mail, asking for donations. Whether or not you decide to give, we're going to show you how to use these cards to make your very own delightful greeting cards, suitable for any occasion. We're going to make a birthday card as our example.

Step 1: Choose a card.
We decided to choose a card with the image below. Nice...but it hardly screams "birthday." Step 2: Add "birthday" elements.
Since we were going for a birthday theme, we decided to use paint to add a cake, candles, and party hats, but you can just as easily add shamrocks or Lincoln beards.


Step 3: Eliminate any Christmas-specific words.
I changed the word "season" to "birthday," and I signed it "Paul," but you can use any name.

Step 4: Voilà.
Give the card to someone. I gave this one to my mother, but you can give yours to anyone.

Thanks for joining us. Next week, we'll show you how to make altruism using nothing but a book of matches and the planet Jupiter. Bye for now!

Naval

So the other day, I parked my car on the street in front of the building in which I reside, and as I'm unloading stuff, my next-door neighbor lumbers toward me. We haven't actually been formally introduced; but I recognized him, and I was all smiles and, "Hi," expecting him to say something like, "Say, you didn't happen to notice any..." or, "By any chance do you have a..." or better still, "Would you like a box full of..."

But no.

He says, "You know, you can only park here for 72 hours."

I responded, "What?"

"You can only park on the street for 72 hours. They'll chalk your tire and tow you away."

"Um, I live here," I said, kind of annoyed, gesturing toward the nearest building. "That's why I park here."

After a pause he said, "Well, you can only park on the street for 72 hours."

"OK, great, thanks," I retorted in the most dismissive possible way as I turned my back on him and reached into the car for another box. When I surfaced, he was still standing there.

He continued, "There was that time when you were parked in that spot for two weeks." He gestured toward a spot in which sat his giant stretch truck/SUV/whatever-the-crap with the Jesus fish stuck right next to the Anaheim Angels' haloed "A." It was pretty obvious to me that he wanted exclusive rights to park in this prized spot, which was right in front of his house, and right next to his driveway.

I gave my best are-you-really-wasting-my-time-with-this-crap look, and said, "Two weeks? I don't really know what you're talking about, but since I live right here it only makes sense that I'd park here." I have this problem where, when someone's being an ass, I'm almost invariably way too nice about it, and I was trying not to fall into the too-nice trap, but I may have done it anyway because deep down, I'm a pushover. -And a bit of a fraidy-cat.

Then he says, "OK, you know, I was just wondering whose car it was," and I just continued unloading my car and didn't say anything and finally he left.

You know, I just don't like being strong-armed by anyone, especially a lumbering dumbass with a Jesus fish and a haloed "A" on his giant vehicle.

So I decided that he'll never park in his prized spot again. Here's what I'm doing: I get home before him in the evenings. I'm parking in his prized spot for three days, THEN I'm moving the car one spot back for the next three days , BUT I'm only leaving enough room in front for a normal-sized car, NOT his giant truck thing. If he tried to park there, he'd block his own driveway. And get towed.

So three days in the one spot, three days in the other. Rinse and repeat. It's been going on for two weeks now. I usually drive my other car anyway.

Eff with ME, mother effer?

I don't give an eff.

Nickels and Apricots

In keeping with the concept of time, which allegedly marches on, I've updated the official The Gold State website, and more changes are soon to come.

OK, let's not get too excited, people.

Tank Top Memories

Is Jesus appearing to the truck on the beach, or is this a depiction of the fact that the truck is in Jesus' crew? Maybe the truck is daydreaming about being on the beach with the bloody corpse of Christ.

We may never know the true meaning of this work, and I have a feeling that it's probably for the best.

Corkscrew

Here's another picture I took with 35mm film in my 120 Holga. Feel free to view more examples here.

You can thank me later.