By now you've all heard about Johnny's attempt to create a sex tape. The fact is: he's already created one - and it's horrible. Viewing it would turn you to stone or melt your face off. Trust me when I say it's this year's 2 Girls 1 Cup, only with less girls and cups and more farm animals. In fact, you'd get a close approximation of what it looks like were you to watch two manatees humping at Sea World. Lucky for you, I phoned this one in recreated my reaction upon viewing said video. (Hint: it did not go well)

My friends, who are ridiculously more talented and funny than me, are looking for a little love. Love in the same way that prostitute from Full Metal Jacket was looking for love, only with out the lip sores and accents. Also without the sex. And no touching. In fact, it really isn't love they're looking for. They want support. Like boobies or your favorite charity. They're Billy and Adam (collectively Snakes) and they're hoping to be nominated for the Emerging Comics of New York Awards.

I've featured them on YesButNoButYes before (check 'em out here and here). If you think they're funny, give them some love/support here.

I had an idea the other day, and because this is a once-a-year occurrence, I didn't want to let it drift off into the shadows of my brain - much like I did with the Blenoaster, my blender/toaster combination. Here's the idea:

Let's call New York just "York" and change York to "Old York."

Obviously this is a genius idea, and I only share it with you because we need to get the word out. The change doesn't need to be made simply so we have less letters to fill out when we type in our addresses. It needs to be made because New York is a much better city than York.

When you turn 30, you find you've run the gamut of all possible Halloween costumes. What you really want to do is stay inside with a glass of wine and watch old horror flicks. But when your girlfriend, who is younger, more creative, and working her way toward a potentially debilitating bout of alcoholism, insists you head out on All Hallows' Eve, you realize you'll save the fight for when she accidentally tapes over most of Season 3 of Mad Men.

And while I'm tempted to dress up as a ghost, I can't bring myself to cut holes into my pristine and high thread-count sheets. A quick tour of my closet reveals that the only thing I can possibly put together at this late a notice is a feeble attempt at dressing like a character out of Mad Men. I have the suit. All I need is the direction. Luckily, I have the resources at AXE to give me some help.

Revelations. It's all about revelations on this week's episode of 1.5 Chords & the Truth. Specifically, revelations about Johnny and his sordid past. As some of you know, Johnny and I were roommates for a year. (Non sexual) And in that time, a few things came to light that were shocking. Horrifying actually. Bits of information that lead me to contact the FBI and look into the witness protection program.

Much like we did on last week's episode, this week's features an Explosion of the Week. Bring it on.

I'm breaking my silence. I may get kicked out of several writer's unions, the State of New York, and my dinner club for posting this, but it needed to be done. Johnny decided to take matters into his own hands, fly to the West Coast, and film his own 3 Chords & the Truth without telling me. Well kids, I'm here to tell you - this shit just got real.

I've put together my own show, appropriately titled 1.5 Chords & the Truth with Echowood which will, no doubt, rapidly climb to the top of the YouTube viewing charts. So while Johnny hires actors to portray his "family," I'll be bringing you hard-hitting interviews. Let the games begin.

Oh, and Ivo ... you're treading on some thin ice my friend. Don't think I haven't noticed your insolence over the past month.

Ben Schwartz (RejectedJokes.com) gives us Episode 1 of how he'd perform under strenuous situations.

Here's how to make an impression. On your first appearance as a regular cast member on Saturday Night Live, on the season premiere no less, drop an f-bomb. That's just what Jenny Slate did last night during the sketch "Biker Chick Chat." Personally, I could give a fuck about the word, especially as it came after 12:30. Also, it's just a word. Still, I would have loved to listen in to the meeting they had after that one.

From a rapidly darkening Thompkins Square Park, Johnny and Echowood, along with special guest star Baierman bring you part 1 of The 3 Chords & the Truth Mailbag. We discuss the New York City rat population, Serena Williams' blow up, and a host of other questions.

We answer more questions on next week's episode, so stay tuned.

That celebrities have the ability to actually type still astounds me. That they feel the need to share their typing skills with the rest of the world in post-modern haikus revolving around their days is akin to watching a girl attempt a hand job. There's no interest in it, and the result is usually much more funny than it's meant to be.

Luckily, this video gives us a few tasty nuggets from the hollow minds of Diddy, Lindsey Lohan, and Brooke Hogan as their "tweets" are read out loud.

(Via Charles Gallant)

New York City has come to a stand-still. Much like blizzards and rat infestations, our fair city seems unable to cope properly when a sitting president comes to town. Obama has been in New York, appearing on Letterman and giving a speech to the United Nations. And since his arrival, our streets have been closed, our subways have been rerouted, and helicopters hover overhead waking our children and dogs. As every other United States President has done since Truman, Obama is staying at the Waldorf-Astoria. And if you've ever wondered what goes into an official "presidential suite," (unlike the one you threw $150 down for at the Holiday Inn in Poughkeepsie) the video above should give you a good indication.

(Via Huffington Post)

Try explaining Synesthesia to someone and see if you can get it to make sense. I've tried on many occasions and failed miserably. I'm one of many "synesthetes" around the world who has a crossing of senses. For instance, when I see certain letters or numbers, I see them as colors. (H's are always purple, 1's are always yellow, etc...) Not only that, but hearing certain notes in music create colors as well. For instance, the 2nd movement of Beethoven's 7th symphony is a red-green with hints of yellow. The strange part of all this is I thought everyone perceived and, to a degree, categorized their thoughts this way.

The above film by Jonathan Fowler gives a hint at what it's like to have Synethesia and does the best job I've seen of explaining what exactly the condition is.

(Via BoingBoing)

BuzzFeed's title put it best. "Gay People Can Quote the Bible Too."

I no longer hate celebrity deaths for the pain and suffering it brings their families, friends, and fans. Nor do I hate the deaths for the loss of artistic genius. No, I hate celebrity deaths for the onslaught of tweets we get from marginally famous people who jump on the bandwagon quicker than born-again Christians writing letters after an episode of Project Runway. In the race to associate themselves with more talented actors, musicians, and artists, these partial-celebrities attempt to get their 140 character tribute out while the corpse is still warm.

We've collected a series of tweets that will undoubtedly go out in the future, once these celebrities kick the bucket.

At this point we should offer an apology. Having done 20 episodes of 3 Chords means we've wasted a lot of your time. Instead of building houses for poor people, reading your children a story, or shaving your back, you chose to spend 20 episodes with us. I'd like to say that we saved a special and enlightening episode for number 20, but we didn't. We didn't even come close.

From a super-secret underground bunker, Johnny and Adam discuss their run in with a woman in distress and how their actions defined who they were as people. They also roll around on chairs.