Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
I wanted this to be a more sophisticated entry than my fan(s) is/are used to. Do not expect any mindless lists, misguided anger, drastically inaccurate allegations, or pointless celebrity bashing which for so long has defnied this blog. From now on things are going to be different. So sit back, relax, if you're a girl put your legs behind your head, and I will tell you a story, one of great emotional depth that will touch you to the core.
On Farting
So when I started fourth grade we had a school-wide assembly to welcome the new principal. And he was an idiot, and tried to teach all the students different crap he’d had the kids at his other school do. If he asked us to give someone a standing “o” (short for ovation) we had to stand up and put our arms over our heads and form an “o.” Same thing with a seated “o” only we were sitting. Like we were goddamn mimes or something. God was he an asshole.
Anyway, he asks us to give one final seated “o” before the end of the assembly. But before the assembly let out, I let out first. It came out of nowhere. One minute I was just sitting there; the next, things would never be the same. I ripped a fart that ricocheted off the hardwood gymnasium floor and rumbled like a thunderclap throughout the entire school. It was like a rifle being fired in a canyon. Helen Keller could have heard this thing, if she'd been there. And immediately, all two hundred people in the building turn to look at me. And all I could think to do was smile like an idiot and point to the fat kid sitting next to me. I don’t think anyone believed me.
Now, this is a true story. And if you happen to pass by the Proctor School in northern Massachusetts some day, ask one of the teachers who’s been there for a while if they recall the Great Wind Storm of ’94. Chances are they’ll ask you how I’m doing.
This has been my story of lost innocence from the fourth grade. If you have comments or would like to share your own tale of an untimely gaseous release, please feel free to reply.
You know what would make dog parks a lot more sanitary? Dog colostomy bags.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
FUN STORIES
When I got invited to play volleyball with my neighbors I thought I’d get a big laugh if instead of hitting the ball when it came to me, I’d just let it hit the ground and start talking to it and calling it Wilson, like the guy in Castaway. I did that about five times in a row before they kicked me out of the game and told me never to come back. I guess they just don’t like Tom Hanks movies.
I was so happy when I got mugged. It was the first time in almost a month that I hadn’t had any cash in my wallet. These muggers were beating the crap out of me for no reason! It was hilarious. Then they found out that I had no money and started beating me even harder, out of anger. That made me stop feeling happy and become really upset. But then, when my head hit the pavement, I saw that I had landed right next to a shiny new quarter! It was the happiest I’d been since I’d started getting mugged. But then the muggers took the quarter from me. Talk about a day full of mixed emotions.
She was my first true love. I remember how I used to follow her around all day, hiding behind bushes and parked cars, and how she used to pretend she didn’t see me, or maybe she really couldn’t because I was hiding. And I’ll never forget the one time she playfully sprayed mace in my eyes and threw me down a flight of stairs. The whole way to the hospital I kept thinking to myself, “What a woman!”
That's about it for now.
Notre Dame monitor: 4-1, bye week coming up. USC the week after. A win there would make the season.
Bengals monitor: 3-1, division-leading Baltimore coming up next week. Who know what the hell they'll do.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Dear Lorne Michaels,
My name is Bill Sheehan. I am writing to you with a suggestion for the television program Saturday Night Live, possibly the best suggestion of any kind that anyone has ever come up with in history.
I have enjoyed SNL for many, many years. But recently something has been nagging at me: all of the people selected to host the show are celebrities. I understand why you guys do this; however, I think that it’s time for something different. Audiences always expect to see someone familiar hosting, a famous person they’ve watched in movies or television. If you really want to shock them, have someone unknown host. Someone obscure. Someone no one has ever heard of. Imagine the possibilities here. Luckily, I have already thought of the perfect person to do this: me.
By now you probably agree that this obscure host idea is pretty amazing, and possibly even the greatest in television history. But you may ask yourself, why should I let this Bill Sheehan character be the one to break the mold as host on the show? The answer: I’m REALY funny. If you don’t believe me, ask my friend Jim, and he’ll tell you. You can reach him at 978-578-xxxx*. It’s probably best to call between 3 and 4 in the morning eastern time. In his sleep-deprived state he may think there’s some kind of emergency and decide to pick up. If he doesn’t answer right away, just keep calling. You may have to leave a bunch of threatening messages until he calls you back. That’s what I do. Also, if at some point in the conversation he tries to tell you about all the money I supposedly “borrowed” from him and “promised to pay back but never did,” just ignore him.
At any rate, I hope this note makes it to you.
Sincerely,
Bill Sheehan
9801 Stonelake Blvd, Apt 1527
Austin, TX 78759
P.S. Just to show you that I’m not some free-loader trying to use SNL to become famous, I have already taken the time to come up with an idea for a sketch: I host a well-known daytime talk show where guests in serious financial trouble come to me for advice. After beginning to help them solve their financial problems, I make the mistake of turning the conversation romantic and then overtly sexual, hitting on them and causing them to leave in confused dismay. I think Rosario Dawson should probably guest star as one of the people who comes on the talk show.
* - Jim's phone number removed from Blog posting for privacy reasons, but was included in original letter.
Well that's about all I have for now.
Monday, August 3, 2009
1997: really hot and finally legal
1998: really really hot
1999: same
2000: still really really hot but has made WAY too many bad movies
2001: same
2002: still really hot but starting to look a little worn/anorexic
2003: same
2004: can't remember
2005: still pretty hot; Ghost Whisperer comes out; no one notices
2006: can't remember
2007: starting to let herself go a little
2008: Whoa, there it is. SHAMU!
2009: hot again. evidence in Maxim magazine
* - years 1979-1996 purposely left out
I usually give myself 2-3 months between posts in order to come up with ideas. On such short notice, I have been unable to think of anything new. So here are some more suggestions on WAYS NOT TO DIE...
Try not to die by: drowning in an inflatable kids pool. What are you trying to do, end up like Mr. Carver in What's Eating Gilbert Grape? This one is probably the most inexcusable of anything mentioned thus far.
Instead, try getting eaten by a shark in the ocean, preferably a Great White or Bull Shark. To die in this fashion is surely very scary and painful, but if there happens to be a witness with a camcorder, you just made your way onto the next season of Shark Week, TV star.
Try not to die by: falling down an old well. Do you know how much of a pain in the ass it will be to get you out of there? Have some courtesy for the people who end up finding you.
Instead, try skydiving with a parachute that won't open. It's a bold way to end things, and there is absolutely no possibility that you will come back as a vengeful, evil creature like that girl in The Ring.
If you are an American:
Try not to die: while singing the Canadian National Anthem. Everyone knows that God loves people who are patriotic. So if you happen to be singing Canada's theme song, or any other country's for that matter, you might as well just pack your bags for hell. Sorry, I don't make up these rules.
Instead, try dying while singing the chorus from Bob Segar's "Against the Wind." Everyone likes Bob Segar, and God is no exception. If you time it right, you can even add a mild hint of irony to your death. How can you complain about that?
Bars I've had enough of:
1) O'Neills, Salem, MA
2) Finnegan's, South Bend, IN
3) In a Pig's Eye, Salem, MA
4) The Pickled Onion, Beverly, MA