Only users lose drugs.

This edition of The Modern Day Critic is brought to you by a long weekend on the Cape. If you haven’t already, sign up for The Modern Day Critic mailing list by sending a message to moderndaycritic@yahoo.com with “Me First” in the subject line. And remember, only selfish bastards don’t share the fun around. So pass this on to anyone who could use a laugh (and who couldn’t?).

Popeye
Don’t let the forearm tattoos, corn cob pipe and romance with Olive Oyl distract you from this cartoon’s real message: Problems are solved with performance enhancing substances and ultra-violence.

Umlauts
While they may have a place in their native German, umlauts are just two dots floating above seemingly random vowels in the English language. Screaming look at me, they are far and away the most pretentious punctuation mark in use today.

William Howard Taft
After securing arbitration treaties with Britain and France in the early 20th century, Taft, the 27th President of the United States, cemented his reputation as one of the first proponents of world peace. Also, he was a 300lb. fat fuck who one got stuck in a bathtub.

Childhood Limericks 2
“Fat and Skinny lying in bed, Fat rolled over and Skinny was dead.” The Lesson: There are risks to being a chubby chaser.

Business Meetings
Although it’s been awhile since I’ve attended one, I feel safe in claiming 95% of them are absolute, unequivocal bullshit. And there’s a special ring of Hell for all the managers and go-getters who insist on scheduling them at 9am, because if there’s anything worse than bullshit, it’s first thing in the morning bullshit.

Thanks to Janeen L. for the topic.

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I think it’s unfair that “illiterate” is a word.

Howdy all and welcome to Issue 14 of The Modern Day Critic. If the past couple of issues seemed to be lacking my usual scathing grace, it’s because they were. And so, this is coming at you with a renewed sense of purpose (and a healthy dose of pain medication). So, this Bud’s for you:

Childhood Limericks 1
“Don’t say ain’t. Your mother will faint. Your father will fall in a bucket of paint. Your sister will cry. Your brother will die, and that’s the end of the lullaby.” The Lesson: Use poor grammar and your brother is fucked.

Suicide
If you try to kill yourself and you fail, it’s either a desperate cry for help or a serious lack of ability. Your closest drug store is filled with enough pills to take down herds of elephants, so why do something fancy like try to hang yourself without tying a proper noose?

Sunscreen
A quick jaunt to the pharmacy yesterday introduced me to SPF 100. And that’s just not enough protection for me. I won’t be satisfied until they introduce sunscreen that gives you rickets, something like SPF Vitamin D Negative.

The Price is Right
Still the ultimate “sick and stay home from school” TV show, The Price is Right has changed little since its inception in 1972. New host Drew Carey has filled in for the departed Bob Barker with grace, charm and about 75 extra pounds. I like Drew Carey, but, damn, he is getting fucking fat. In fact, producers have taken to always dressing him in black so contestants don’t confuse him for a PLINKO board.

Join the MDC mailing list by sending a message with “Me First” in the subject line to moderndaycritic@yahoo.com. If you want off the mailing list, just drop me an email with ”I Suck” in the subject line and may your urine always smell of asparagus.

 

I’m not superstitious, but issue 13 could be the luckiest yet.

Email moderndaycritic@yahoo.com with “Me First” in the subject to be added to The Modern Day Critic Mailing list. Remember, sharing is caring, so be sure to pass The Critic to a friend. And away we go:

Yard Sales
Me: How much for the picture frame? Yard Sale Host (YSH): Fifty dollars. Me: It’s made of chipped wood. I’ll give you $0.75. YSH: It was my grandmother’s. Me: Okay, a dollar. The lesson: Sentimental value doesn’t mean shit when it’s next to Kenny Loggins cassettes and old baby clothes.

The Ocean
Covering roughly two-thirds of the planet, oceans are home to millions of forms of life … and their poo. So the next time you’re at the beach remember you’re swimming in a giant toilet that never gets flushed.

The Mall
The pinnacle of capitalism gone wrong, rare is the mall that doesn’t have me stifling the urge to vomit within 15 minutes. Just loads of chain stores pedaling mass produced shit to knuckle draggers with low IQs and too much disposable income. In fact , the word “Mall” is short for the Latin verb “Mallirocala,” meaning to twist testicles.

Stupid Facts
Ancient Egyptians shaved their eyebrows to mourn the death of their cats. Petrified buffalo penis was once thought to ward off impotence. Radio waves travel better over water.

Hamthrax
The reaction to the swine flu epidemic (is it alright to call it that yet?) has been swift and justified. Don’t be surprised if its origin isn’t traceable to pigs, but to a toddler who hasn’t been taught to cover his fucking mouth when sneezing and coughing. (You hear that parents? Your kid may be cute, but I don’t want to share his spittle.)

Got an idea you’d like to see handled by The Critic? Submit it to moderndaycritic@yahoo.com and if it’s used, you’ll win a no expense paid trip to Darfur (Malaria shots and guerilla warfare training also not included).

 

Warning: Buy some rubber underwear before reading.

Send an email to moderndaycritic@yahoo.com with “Me First” in the subject to be added to The Modern Day Critic Mailing list. You know what’s next:

Natural Selection
A pigeon gets hit by a car. A hunter shoots himself. A horse runs back into a burning barn. A kid OD’s trying to get HIGH on sleeping pills. (Sleeping pills are DOWNS.) Don’t feel bad about these passings. It’s just nature trying to thin the ranks of the planet’s less than desirable inhabitants.

Linguica
Made of whatever falls on the floor, this delicious Portuguese sausage is the only known food to come out better in the microwave.

Porn
Not that I watch it, but the volume is always way too loud whenever it’s turned on. Or so I’ve heard.

Adjectives
When I was younger, I used to think adjectives made me look smart. Why say something’s big, when it can be described as gargantuan or enormous? As I’ve evolved as a writer, I’ve discovered that adjectives should be used sparingly…and that when I was younger, I was a bit of an asshole.

Feminine Hygiene Advertising
Check it out. Subtly be damned.

Only two issues this month. I’ve been less than prolific. So sue me.

 

Friends don’t let friends drive drunk or kick one another in the nuts.

So, it’s come to this:

The Three Stooges
While I’m not a fan of slapstick, The Three Stooges elevated it to an art form I could appreciate. Every slap, punch and eye-gouge was done with such astute timing and practice they never actually hurt one another. Which is why I’m against The Farrelly Brothers “Stooges” movie. Aside from poo and pee jokes, you can be sure there’ll be green screen too. Would Jim Carrey (Curly) really let Sean Penn (Larry) draw a saw blade across his head? I doubt it.

Rhythm and Blues
Some time ago R&B made the move away from bands like the Rolling Stones to performers like Usher. Why? I get the “Rhythm” part of the name. The ability to keep a beat is essential to music, but where does the “Blues” fit in? Unless “Blue” is how I’m supposed to feel about it.

Thanks to Chris S. for this topic.

The Book
Whenever a bad guy gets caught, they threaten to throw THE BOOK at him, which personally I’d be grateful for. It’s better that than having the crappy film adaptation hurled at you.

Bagpipes
One of the naturally loudest instruments, the bagpipes rarely require amplification to fill a space with sound. Which is good, unless you suck at them.

Big League Chew
Taking the sports/tobacco connection to kids with brazen transparency, this gum is shredded like chewing tobacco, comes in a pouch like chewing tobacco and is even named like a chewing tobacco. However, even when coupled with a nasty candy cigarette habit, it’s yet to cause cancer of the sweet tooth.

Remember, sharing is caring. So pass this along to friends and sign up for the Critic’s mailing list by emailing moderndaycritic@yahoo.com with ME FIRST in the subject.

 

It’s better than a sharp stick in the eye.

Issue #10. Double digits. Wow. Check it out:

Parallel Universes
The notion that a limitless number of realities are happening just outside our own, parallel universes mean every moment in time could be spun off in to infinite possibilities. In one parallel universe I’m the King of England, while in another, I use my left hand to wipe.

Justin Timberlake
Record Exec 1: This boy band thing has played out again. What’s next? Record Exec 2: We’ll just take the best looking kid from The Backstreet Boys, get him vocal and dance coaches and market the bejesus out of him. Record Exec 1: And since he’s already coming from a squeaky-clean band, we’ll save on establishing his image.

They cackle madly, touch champagne flutes and go back to doing coke off a stripper’s ass.

Unhappy Endings
If you hear one of the following phrases in a story, it’s a pretty good indication it’s going to end badly: 1. “So I drank the bottle of Vodka.” 2. “And then I bet the mortgage against the Globetrotters.” 3. “I didn’t know it was a guy.”

Inner Filters
You know that little barrier in your head that prevents you from saying exactly what you’re thinking in situations that require it? I don’t. And while it can be liberating to say whatever the hell you want, it can also be problematic. Like the time I called the Creative Director at a (now defunct) company a dickhead. I was kidding, but I wish I had waited until after introductions.

Gift Cards
For birthdays, holidays or anytime, there’s nothing like giving a gift card to say,” I don’t give a fuck, get it yourself.” If it’s the thought that counts, these bad boys are the perfect present for when you’ve run out of ideas. Except for where the recipient should shop.

The Modern Day Critic is ready for action three times a month. Join the list to get word of new issues by emailing moderndaycritic@yahoo.com with “Me First” in the subject line. Since I only give a shit about people getting off on this column, rest assured your email address won’t be sold, rented or otherwise compromised.

 

Man who go to bed with itchy ass, wake up with stinky finger.

I realize this issue’s headline is juvenile and in it for a cheap laugh, but then again, so am I. Enjoy:

Sneezing
Sneezing feels pretty good and it might be because it may (people go back and forth on this one) kill brain cells every time you do it. But before you invest in an extra-large box of pepper, remember the risks – like blowing snot all over your upper lip.

Phone Interviews (A Summary)
Human Resources: Is it still a good time for me to judge your ability to do this job based on your answers to canned questions that have absolutely nothing to do with your work? Me: Yes. HR: You failed.

The Unemployment Beard
Looking for growth during this recession? Check out an unemployed man’s and (in some unfortunate cases) woman’s face. As soon as the work stops, so does the shaving. It’s so prevalent that the number of growing beards could be an economic indicator. Let’s call it, The Follicle Factor.

Exclamation Points
Used once in a while to set off a phrase or thought exclamation points do have value! But multiple exclamation points in the same paragraph (or even sentence), are marks of an amateur scribe!!!! They tell readers that either you do not know how to build excitement with words, you are (personally) absolutely thrilled about something or that you are an asshole!!!!!

James Brown
I have a theory that whenever James Brown is on everyone in the place will dance…at least a little. I don’t care if it’s a couple of head-swivels, finger snaps or pelvic thrusts, people are compelled to move when it comes to the funkitude of tracks like “I Feel Good,” “Licking Stick” and “I Got The Feelin’.”

Look for more trouble in a couple weeks.

Get word of new issues by emailing moderndaycritic@yahoo.com with “Me First” in the subject line. And remember, sharing is caring. Pass this along to your friends.

 

It may look gross, but it’s good on toast.

Howdy folks and welcome to issue eight of The Modern Day Critic. Packed with inane facts and empty calories, it promises to be the learning experience of a lifetime (if you die five minutes after reading it. Since I sense your growing excitement, read on and enjoy…

Olfactory Hallucinations
Apparently when blind people take LSD there’s a chance they’ll have olfactory hallucinations –smelling things that aren’t really there. So while the rest of us are seeing faces in the carpet and spirits in the steam vent, their nostrils are sensing the intricacies of apple pie, Old Spice and jazz music.

Handicapped Parking
The Modern Day Critic lives in Boston—where violence is justified when it comes to parking. The MDC also has Machado Joseph Disease and a handicap parking pass. When you live in a city where taking a spot is grounds for an ass-kicking, it almost makes having a crippling illness worthwhile. Not really. But at least I never have a fist fight over where I leave my car.

Baseball and Steroids
Think too much is being made out baseball players and performance enhancing drugs? Imagine a league where they’re not only accepted, they’re mandated. At All Steroid League games, you’ll enjoy monstrous players with shrunken genitals routinely smacking 600 ft homers off pitchers throwing at 110 mph. Best of all, ‘roid rage guarantees at least one bench clearing brawl an inning.

Newspapers
Because people can get their news free online, newspapers are rapidly becoming an unintended (and undeserved) casualty of the digital age—and along with them quality and informative reporting. This means the smart people will write books (which no one reads), Americans will get dumber faster and you’ll have to find paper somewhere else. After all, you can’t line the bird cage with megapixels.

Breakfast
Frosted doughnuts with jimmies. Pancakes and waffles slathered with buttery maple syrup. French toast with a sprinkling of sugar. Chocolate croissants. Fruit compote. It’s no wonder breakfast is the most important meal of the day—it’s really a second dessert, except with bacon. mmm … bacon.

The Modern Day Critic is ready for action three times a month. Get word of new issues by emailing moderndaycritic@yahoo.com with “Me First” in the subject line. And be sure to share with a friend.

 

If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck, it’s probably not a monkey.

Howdy folks and welcome to the third and final February edition of The Modern Day Critic. If you’re new here, it should take you about three seconds to figure out how it works. (Any longer than that and you are very, very slow, but thanks for dropping by anyway.) And if you’re a regular, thanks for coming back.

At any rate, spread the word and be sure to sign up for The Modern Day Critic mailing list at moderndaycritic@yahoo.com.

On with the show:

Raisins
From stuffing to pancakes to trail mix, these tiny, wrinkled nuggets complement most foods with a touch of natural sweet flavor. And for a while I denied liking them – probably because they’re little more than dead grapes.

Taxes
The terrible “T” word during the past election, taxes are an essential part of your life (unless you don’t like schools, roads and fire departments). The MDC tax plan would ensure the country’s coffers are full for years: If you vote for any ticket with Sarah Palin on it, you get slapped with $1,000 asshole tax.

Layoffs
Since layoffs are an expected part of today’s economy, they can be used to explain any departure from work – no questions asked. So if you don’t mind losing your job and you want to come to work naked (Hey, I’m not here to judge), now’s your chance. “I was laid off,” is the only excuse your next employer needs to hear.

Thanks to Patty Y. for suggesting the topic.

The Oscars
When giving out the coveted award, presenters used to say, “And the winner is …”, but now it’s “And the Oscar goes to …” Why? The Academy wanted to avoid hurt feelings by labeling some winners and others not. It seems that the Hollywood’s egos are so fragile that millions of dollars and legions of fans aren’t enough. And that “it’s just an honor being nominated” is a load of crap.

Snow
The Modern Day Critic lives in the Northeast where record breaking snowfall has meant hours of backbreaking shoveling. And although it’s almost to the point where I’d rather shovel shit than snow, I am glad that shit doesn’t typically fall form the sky.

Well, that’s it for now. You can have more in March.

 

If there’s an excuse for ignorance, I don’t know it.

As I remain woefully unemployed and suckling at the government teat, I’ve decided to try to update the Critic three times a month. That means upwards of 36 issues per year of inane bullshit, but as long as you keep reading, I’ll keep writing (Actually, I’d write anyway, but that’s beside the point).

Send an email to moderndaycritic@yahoo.com with “Me First” in the subject to be added to The Modern Day Critic Mailing list. Thanks to those who’ve already signed up.

And now, on with the show:

Michael Phelps
After losing his Kellogs endorsement for the bong hit heard around the world, Phelps now owns the most expensive dime bag in history. Punishing him for smoking herb is like punishing him for being 24. Remember what the bible says, “Let he who is without a binger cast the first stone.”

Best of Albums
By purchasing a “Best of” compilation, you’re missing the original album’s hidden gems and allowing others to determine the songs you should be listening to. Don’t hand this important decision to the bland, radio-friendly masses. Think (or in this case, listen) for yourself. Buy the albums those “hits” came from. Chances are, you won’t regret it.

Note to radio stations that play “lost” classics: If a tune’s on a Best of Album, it’s not lost.

Euphemisms for Gluteus Maximus
Ass, arse, rump, buttocks, coo, cheeks, toilet, butt, bumper, pooper, dumper, derriere, dump truck, bottom, backdoor, posterior, tush, tuckus, booty, badunkadunk, can, rear, rear end, buns, junk in the trunk, fart bag, turd cutter

Faux Hawks
Seen all over, the faux hawk is destined to be ridiculed as the mullet of the early 21st century. You know, the kinda thing people point out in old photos and laugh at. If you want people to think you’re badass, get a real mohawk. Otherwise, you’re just a douche bag with too much crap in his hair.

Shameless Self Promotion
If anyone out there has need of a writer (ads, flyers, direct mail, etc.), I’m wiling to whore myself out at a reduced rate. And as a bonus, I’ll work remotely so you never have to see my ugly mug. Work samples are available at creativehotlist.com/menos. Email matthew_enos@yahoo.com for more info.

Well that’s about all the blather I could muster for this week. Drop me a line with any questions, comments or suggestions. Until next time …