I'm old enough to remember cigarette ads on television. Most were (like all ads) ridiculously exaggerated concerning the adventures in coolness their product would bring. But these tobacco ads are intrinsically evil when promoting a product the manufacturers knew were killing people. They still know. That surgeon general's warning on the side of a pack of cigarettes isn't enough for me. "This shit causes cancer. Period." That works for me.


Web Junkie

Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »

Like Father, Like Daughter

Or is it the other way around? I invited Lauren to take a closer look at Funeratic so she could see why I spend so much time here. I started with a few pictures, Scott - ("I know him!") Go »

Ho, Ho, Ho

I was in my car stopped at a light after going to Giant when two jokers pulled beside me and made motions for me to roll down my window. They drunkenly started shouting, "Hi, Santa! What are ya gonna bring me for Christmas this year?" Go »

Ice Cream That Would Make Homer Simpson Retch

In all honesty, I felt physically ill after about 1/3 of the way through this list. I could actually taste some of this nauseating stuff and it made my stomach churn. I don't even want to know what raw horseflesh flavor is like. Go »

Unspoken Cultural Differences

Various hand gestures mean different things, depending on where in the world you happen to be. This guide to unspoken communication may be invaluable to those globetrotters out there. Go »

Got Dem Sunday Shopping UOAS Blues

Weekly shopping or as it has become, my weekly stroll through Satan's marketplace. I consciously avoided UOAS's line and since there were only two lines, chose the one next door. Let's call this one Slightly Less Ugly On A Stick. Go »

Christmas and a Lizard's Tale

One Christmas when Lauren was eight, like a lot of girls her age, wished for a pony. My backyard at the time was about the size of a Volkswagen Minibus. Despite her assurances that she would let it roam the neighborhood for sufficient exercise, I said, “Not this year,” as I pictured myself following the horse with a pooper scooper. Go »