

Need more proof that the testy televangelist is batshit crazy? My friend Sandwich was kind enough to update me on Robinson's latest scam. For years the irreverent reverend has been telling us that his prayers prevent hurricanes; now he's trying to sell the notion that he can leg press a small elephant. The following load of crap comes directly from his website:
"Did you know that Pat Robertson can leg press 2,000 pounds? How does he do it? Where does Pat find the time and energy to host a daily, national TV show, head a world-wide ministry, develop visionary scholars, while traveling the globe as a statesman?
One of Pat's secrets to keeping his energy high and his vitality soaring is his age-defying protein shake. Pat developed a delicious, refreshing shake, filled with energy-producing nutrients. Discover what kinds of natural ingredients make up Pat's protein shake by registering for your FREE booklet today!"
As Sandwich points out, that would mean a 76-year-old man broke the all-time Florida State University leg press record of 1,335 pounds. That's a 665 pound difference folks. And apparently the poor young lad who pulled off the paltry 1,335 pound press burst the capillaries in his eyeballs.
The fact that Robertson is using the claim to hock a protein shake makes me want to burst a few of his capillaries. Age-defying my ass. The man doesn't look a day younger than 80. I'm just surprised he's not trying to convince us that God gave him the recipe.

My boss is a gigantic asshole and, quite frankly, I am sick and tired of his shit. After an organizational realignment (correction: upheaval) last month, Bossman (or BM, as I like to call him) has taken great pains to avoid me around the office; not because I'm fired, but because he stuck me with the shortest end of the very shortest stick. So short, in fact, that I could use it as a toothpick, or in a perfect world, as a teeny tiny arrow to shoot into his eye using a crudely fashioned bow made from rubberbands and paper clips.
I have unofficially begun the countdown to "Smell Ya Later"; unfortunately, I have yet to find another job. Since I am sick to death of working the corporate nine-to-five, I am currently considering the following alternatives, which are neither glamorous, nor lucrative:
1. Unprofessional photographer
2. Street-corner mime
3. eBay racketeer
4. Treasure hunter
5. Panhandler
6. Ass sucker (see photo, above)
7. Freelance writer/editor
8. Graduate student/barista at international coffee franchise
I have my personal favorites, but am open to reader feedback and/or suggestions. I am also accepting gifts of cash, food, and beverage. Alcohol is preferred.