(This will be my last post at YesButNoButYes. I truly want to thank the thousands of you drunken reprobates for reading my dreck the last few years. That tear-jerking sentiment said, I leave you with one last piece of advice. And remember, at our new site The Desonesto Doctrine, we wil be continuing the rodeo and ribaldry. Cheers.)

"It has been suggested to me that I am bit of a snob. How true! I prefer to be."
Raymond Chandler (Pictured above)

Declaration!

Snobbery is good. It is a gift. A noble quality that should be striven for. And ought to be embraced and displayed with pride.

The snobs are the knowledgeable. The informed. The passionate.

Have you ever met a dumb person who has sharp insight about politics, literature or music? I doubt it. It's the intelligent and clever that can regurgitate facts and figures and tell you why something is the bee's knees and the opposite sucks.

It is your responsibility as a member of a free society to cherry-pick what information you intake and decide what you believe is good and worthy of your time.

Be unapologetic about what you believe or what you love. Who is your favorite Beatle (I will argue George), who is a proper novelist or what restaurant serves the best lasagna. Even if someone has a strong opinion about a topic that I think is absolute rubbish, if their argument is made smartly and with passion, I respect you.

Bratislava Slovakia is a very progressive and prepared town. Just in case they have visitors from another galaxy, they want the flying saucers to maintain an orderly fashion.

None of this zipping around faster than the speed of light and parking in wheat fields causing elaborate crop circle designs, Mr. Alien pilot, you will park here. Thank you. No double parking and keep your damn anal probes to yourself. And safe travels home.

From The Sports/Make-A-Deuce Desk...

When you are a footballing legend like Diego Maradona, you can get away with all the pooping demands you want.

At the Pretoria High Performance Centre, where the Argentine coach is to be stationed during The World Cup, the toilet was not up to Maradona's standards. This seat isn't heated? There isn't a variety of bidet angles for a thorough anal washing followed by a warm air drying system? This will not stand! Who do you think he is, Pele?

At a cost of about $2,000, Diego's bathroom in his suite was redone including the installation of the "best toilet in the world." The "E-Bidet" that features a "heated seat, a warm air blow-dryer and front and rear bidget wands." The unprecedented double-bidet! That's unheard of. What a pleasure it must be to take a steamer.

When you are a legend, you crap in style...

In 2006, cyclist Floyd Landis won the Tour de France. His title was soon stripped due to swirling rumors, failed drug tests and facts. Floyd adamantly defended himself. For years he spoke of his innocence to any hot microphone within 75 yards. He spent $2 million clams (some of which was donated by supportive fans) in courts maintaining he was clean.

He even put out a book entitled Positively False: The Real Story of How I Won the Tour de France. There was no way he was guilty of using performance enhancing drugs, he wrote a book saying he didn't. Case closed.

But hang on. Last week Floyd finally came clean and admitted he was a cheater and a doper. Thus negating his best-selling tome.

Unfortunately, this isn't this first time a celebrity wrote a book that came back to bite them in the ass. Including:

Lawrence Taylor's I Don't Even Like Cocaine and Underage Girls

Governor Mark Sanford's Field Guide to the Appalachian Trail

Lindsay Lohan's Clean Living & Hard Work: A Handbook For Young Actresses

Tiger Wood's Golf and Family. That's All I Do In My Life. Golf and Family. That's It

And,

John Edward's Fidelity, Honesty and Birth Control: My Life As a Politician

Since we are shutting down this nickel-and-dime dog-and-pony show, I thought I'd take one last opportunity to profess my semi-creepy obsession with Jack White III.

This is the Dead Weather's song "Die By The Drop," taken from the just released record Sea of Cowards. It's amazing.

The ever-prolific Jack has churned out a second record with his third band in less than a year. All accomplished because Jack has built his own recording studio/rehearsal space and record shop in Nashville. Without the meddling of clueless music execs, these bands have complete control and can put out the album they want. No compromises.

This will be the last Jack White post. Although I will write one more swan song full column by the end of the month when we say goodbye.



"The truth doesn't make a noise."

From The Sports Desk...

Tiger Woods pulled out (yep, used that phrase on purpose) from the Players Championship this past weekend. Eldrick claims he has a sore neck and may have a "bulging disk."

Well, some unfortunate reporter has read one too many tabloid stories of Tiger's sexual exploits. Listen carefully. We may have a whole other set of problems for the fallen star.

"Dr. Freud, you have a call on line 3. Dr. Freud, a call on line 3."

Dan Fanelli is running for congress in Florida. His strategy for gaining votes is one for the books. Instead of telling voters of his qualities that make him a leader or even really attacking his opponent (he does call him a "bum" ... oh, snap.), Danny Boy showed his main quality is being able to show you what terrorists look like in a Die Hard sequel.

Danny's main skill is that of racial profiling and being able to spot a terrorist that has a bomb already strapped to his chest. It's like Jack Bauer going to congress.

What I find amazing is this spot what conceived, written, cast and shot without one campaign member saying, "Sir, not only is this offensive, it's bordering on a combo of an SNL skit and Looney Tunes cartoon."



For crying out loud...

We've had quite a few stories concerning the state of late night television. It's been too fun to ignore.

In anticipation for Conan's 60 Minutes interview this Sunday, we bring you a blast from television's past. The opening from the very first Late Night with Conan O'Brien.

It actually is pretty classic television. Conan leaves his (real) apartment and walks to his new gig. Friendly New Yorkers berate him with pressure to be as funny as his legendary predecessor David Letterman. With a classic, black comedy ending.

Unfortunately, I can't embed it for you. So just click here to see the magic.

Our (Echowood and myself) former amazing boss David Letterman took another swipe at Jay Leno last night. A solid right cross to the kisser. Wait, make that solid right cross to the tugboat hull of a chin.

Sort-of-a-Dr. Phil was the guest. When he brought up the Great Late Night Debacle of 2009, Dave just couldn't help himself.

Once again, Dave sides with Team Coco. Roll the clip...

From The ... Who are we kidding, there is no department for police officers with enhanced wangs. I'll double-check with Echo, but I think this is an anomaly.

JAKARTA - If you have participated in the traditional stretching of your man junk with a heavy "penis gourd" (pictured at left), and want to be a cop, you can pack in your fruit and two veg and go home.

You will be considered "unfit for duty." This engorged manhood ritual, practiced by remote easternmost province, home to Papuan tribes is thought to be a "hindrance during training." All that swinging about could really slow a copper down as he chases down a sex trafficker.

Locals Papuans also use a local technique to achieve the enlargement, according to a sexologist quoted by local newspaper Jakarta Globe, wrapping the penis with leaves from the "gatal-gatal" (itchy) tree so that it swells up "like it has been stung by a bee,"

This is ding dong and balls discrimination! Something must be done! What if a gentleman who has has his dangler stretched like silly putty is an Indonesian Robocop? What then? Then crime runs rampant and the Supercop that is dragging his stretched genitalia behind him is not going to be available to stop crime.

This sounds like a job for Bill Clinton. United States Naughty Spot Ambassador. Fire up the phallic-shaped jet and plot a course for Indonesia! God Speed Willie! Justice must prevail!

From The Sports Desk...

Super Bowl MVP Drew Brees and his birthmark were voted to be cursed by being put on the cover of Madden 11. This is not good news. We all know the Madden Curse is real. She strikes without warning or mercy as soon as the cover boy hits the gridiron.

We missed a great opportunity to use the Curse for good. Put the voodoo on Big Ben Roethlisberger! That dope has it coming. Brees is a good guy and a helluva quarterback. He wasn't cornering young co-ed's in the Senor Frogs mens room. Brees didn't have a marathon session with the NFL Commissioner to answer for conduct unbecoming of an NFL employee. Put the curse on Ben.

Here's what should have happened: Roethlisberger is on the cover of Madden. He serves his 6 game suspension. Then on his first game game back, an assistant coach with teenage daughters slips a Mojo filled with hair samples of girls Big Ben has harassed into his belt hand warmer. "Go get 'em, Ben!" First snap, three step drop, busted ACL.

Justice/curse served.

We missed a chance at vigilante justice here football fans...

During Conan O'Brien's "Prohibited From Being Funny On Television" tour, there was a stop in Seattle. Out came special guest Eddie Vedder to play a song for Conan's birthday.

A ukulele-assisted rendition of John Lennon's "Oh Yoko" was played with a slight lyric change. The song is now "Oh Coco." Ed showing firmly where he and the band stands in the Great Late Show Debacle of 2009.



Following this ditty, Mike McCready came out and played "Baba O'Riley" with Conan's band in celebration for being free and funny.

Team Coco!

From YBNBY The Hell is Freezing Over Desk...

The Library of Congress, that hallowed facility which serves as a cathedral to the written word, a pillar of the arts, a holy place for scholars, is welcoming a retarded step brother who is deaf, dumb and blind (but can still play a mean pinball) into it's halls.

It has been announced that alongside the Guttenberg Bible, a rough draft of the Declaration of Independence, and the words of Shakepeare, Proust and Yeats, will be an archive of TWITTER MESSAGES.

In an extraordinary agreement with Twitter's founders, the Library of Congress - the world's largest library and America's oldest federal institution - is to create a digital archive of the several billion tweets publicly posted on the social networking site since its inception in 2006.

This makes perfect sense. While you are looking for the right Walt Whitman poem for your research paper, you can cross-reference the work with Paris Hilton's tweet "club is poppin 4 real. LOL." Everything is relative. You can quote the Greek poet Aeschylus and the American waste of platelets Heidi Montag without leaving the building. "OMG, pinkberry is so nummy!!!!!!!" That was the new plastic Heidi, not Aeschylus.

The fact that we are becoming more stupid just keeps getting driven home with a sledgehammer.

Fill up the shark tank, rev up the motorboat, put Fonzie in waterskis and tell him he and The Library of Congress is on in five.

As the Tea Parties continue to embarrass America...

Yesterday there were a few hundred loons with offensive Nazi-themed signs that walked around American cities screaming at camera crews and repeating Sarah Palin talking points. "I want to tell 'em, nah, we'll keep clinging to our Constitution and our guns and religion -- and you can keep the change!" Good hell. Nobody is taking your guns. The Constitution is not changed.

This from a woman who when asked who her favorite Founding Father was drew a blank, then said "all of them," then Glenn Beck mentioned Washington, then what do you know, Palin picked Washington too. Good save Glenn.

Due to the fracturing of their own base, the right now has three separate factions. Conservatives, Republicans, and Tea Partiers. With Republican politicians weighing the option if they have to side with the tea parties to get reelected even though they loath the people involved. It's like going to The Crossroads and making a deal with El Diablo himself. Then you can't even play the guitar. (See: John "I Never Said I Was a Maverick" McCain for an example.) By the the way, it took less than a day for reporters to piece together a montage showing John absolutely considered himself a maverick and ran for President on that claim. He mentioned the phrase during the Republican National Convention!

The Tea Partiers tried to bring out the big celebs at a rally yesterday. Everyone was pretty busy. So, ladies and gentleman, Victoria Jackson! "Who is this? Was she on Facts of Like or Something?" Screw it, play the crap song with your out of tune uke.



Just sad.

Citizens! Beware of fireballs zooming through the night sky!

Just a week after a video reportedly showed British fighter jets chasing down E.T. and Alf, comes this strange footage. Over the skies of the American Heartland is what appears to be a menacing fireball of death.

The anomaly was seen for about 15 minutes and reportedly caused a bit of an uproar. Eyewitnesses say the Fireball of Death exploded, breaking apart to many pieces.

"Experts" say the lights are merely a large meteorite. But you, me, and Fox Mulder know better. Authorities might as well have said the lights were swamp gas.

Watch the skies...