Dear World,

I don't know about you, but I sure am tired of hearing the following 50 words, terms and phrases. Whaddya say we stuff 'em all in that storage locker, between "Who let the dogs out?" and "metrosexual," and maybe break 'em out again, say, 2033-ish?

Thanks!

Love,
Jeem

PS: If you want to bring back "Where's the beef?" I think now would be an OK time, at least until mad cow disease really takes hold and newspapers start using it as a headline.

And now, without further ado...

I guess you could blame zillions of dollars in lawsuits, a decade of those "Truth" ads, the decrepitly slimy Smoking Man from The X Files, or perhaps some combination of all of the above, but whatever the root cause, smokers these days have it rough. Even putting aside pesky physical effects like lung cancer, emphysema, and Tater Tot-sized fetuses, the overall social status of the American cigarette smoker has slipped down somewhere between lawyers and those guys who sing the FreeCreditReport.com jingle.

These stain-fingered pariahs huddle in exile on balconies and patios, braving the elements for their nicotine fix while the rest of the party tsk-tsks in dry, air-conditioned comfort. They're the last group of people that it's socially acceptable to be openly rude to, especially if their lit cigarettes are in the same zip code as your precious honor student. After a recent $1.25/pack tax increase in New York City, 20 cigarettes now cost as much as a generously-portioned rock of crack -- but I believe you still have to cross the river into New Jersey before you can actually light up. (The cigarettes, that is -- go ahead and spark that rock right on the subway, homes.)

Once upon a time, the great Aesop wrote:

A MONKEY once danced in an assembly of the Beasts, and so pleased them all by his performance that they elected him their King. A Fox, envying him the honor, discovered a piece of meat lying in a trap, and leading the Monkey to the place where it was, said that she had found a store, but had not used it, she had kept it for him as treasure trove of his kingdom, and counseled him to lay hold of it. The Monkey approached carelessly and was caught in the trap; and on his accusing the Fox of purposely leading him into the snare, she replied, "O Monkey, are you, with such a mind as yours, going to be King over the Beasts?"

Lesson learned; monkeys are funny. And good dancers. I think. I think that's the lesson, I'm not really sure. But they are funny. That's an absolute.

With that in mind, we give you the Greatest Monkeys of All-Bloody-Time.

Steak, it's what's for dessert.

And breakfast.

And lunch.

And maybe a snack the next day.

It's hot, sticky and humid outside so it must be Summer. That's reason to cheer. Except if you work in one of these ten professions.

The summer movie season is upon us. Hollywood is shipping out the bloated, over-hyped, market-research-tested, Happy-Meal-tied-in, tent pole "blockbusters" to local cinemas as we speak. Uh, read. And write. You know what I mean.

I may be a snob, but I do enjoy many a popcorn flick. For me, the most enjoyable film season is October to December, where most of the "important" films are released to the more discerning masses. The summer schedule is a lot like Nicolas Cage's IMDB credits; wildly divergent with hits and misses. Nevertheless, the studios give us enough passable $300 million monsters that entertain the masses to justify the occasional stink bomb.

Going to the movies is one of my favorite activities. Has been since I was a child. There were many times in the 80's that I would beg my folks to drop me off at the Sea-Tac Mall AMC 6 to see "Ghostbusters" or "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" for the seventh time. I still get excited as the lights go down and the coming attractions start. I take out the candy and snacks that I've smuggled in like Red getting contraband into Shawshank, sit back and experience a wee bit of escapism for 120 minutes.

Inside my pea sized brain lies a fairly good barometer of what film I will enjoy and what film I should avoid. I usually know. But there are times that I am wrong. Way wrong. Where I thought I would enjoy a movie and ended up feeling like I was going to become Linda Blair in "The Exorcist." I begin to squirm in my seat. Then cringe at bad dialogue and awful "special" effects. And finally start whine like a little boy. "I wanna go home! Johnny no likey Michael Bay!"

There's nothing better than seeing tourists with their fanny packs and Warner Brothers branded t-shirts taking pictures of themselves with their backs to the Grand Canyon. "This is us NOT looking at one of the world's greatest natural wonders!" We all know about the Grand Canyon, The Louvre, Niagara Falls, The Pyramids, The Great Wall of China. But here's a list of amazing places you may never have heard of before.

Of course, this is just one dicks opinion,
spiced up with some filthy related links.

About 15 years from now, there will be thousands of people who have covered various parts of their bodies with tattoos that are going to feel really stupid. It will no longer be trendy and they will spend the rest of their lives explaining why they have all-you-can-eat ink permanently branded on themselves.

"Well, we were in Cabo and I'd had a few margaritas. I was feeling pretty loosey-goosey, one thing led to another and well, I ended up with Calvin taking a wiz on a Florida State Seminoles logo tattooed on my forearm. I know, it's stupid." Those conversations are going to happen by the bucketful.

It's not that I think all tattoos are in poor taste. The practice is not for me personally, but to each his own. In fact, not that long ago my very conservative father had a milestone birthday and got the Rampant Lion of Scotland tatted on his bicep. It's a small nod to the heritage that we are very proud of.

I believe my father's tattoo was thought about for a long time. It was not a spontaneous or booze influenced decision. Sadly many tats are just that; either a spur of the moment purchase or inspired by too much of a favorite tipple.

With other fads, you can participate and not make it a lifetime commitment. You can take the double hoop earrings out pretend it never happened. (If you still have those, you need to take them out.) You can shave off your side-spike. You can take off your parachute pants. It's a little more of a chore to remove your Dane Cook "Su-Fi" tattoo.

(Who's going to feel more stupid down the road; The "Su-Fi" tattoo gang or those that have "Git-R-Done" permanently on their body? A tough call. It's a good thing that tattoos weren't as popular on the early 80's or their would be a few people with Yakov Smirnoff on their shoulder blade.)

Many will feel stupid, the owners of the following tattoos are going to feel like the southbound end of a northbound horse.

Last week I was talking to one of my buddies on the phone while watching an NBA playoff game. During a commercial break I was flipping around the dial and came across "The Hudsucker Proxy." (Which is an underrated gem, by the way. If you have ever liked the Coen's work, put the Proxy in your Netflix queue. It's incredible.) Anyhoo, I mentioned the film to my pal and he asked, "Didn't you tell me a story about a guy that ran through a plate glass window like a guy in that movie?"

Indeed I did. In the first few minutes of the "Hudsucker Proxy," the character Waring Hudsucker climbs onto a huge conference table during a board meeting, takes a few beats, and runs towards a huge window, throwing himself through it and plummeting to the street below. Hudsucker fell 45 stories, not counting the mezzanine. A year before the film was released, a lawyer named Garry Hoy slammed into the plate glass window on the 24th floor of the Toronto-Dominion Center to show a group of interns the strength of the "unbreakable" glass. The first attempt was a rousing success, Garry bounced off the glass and the young group cheered wildly. Knowing he had a live crowd, an encore was in order. He ran into the glass a second time, this time flying through the window and then fell like a stone to the street below. Really put a damper on orientation. "Oh boy. It looks like Garry just fell 24 stories. Well, we have refreshments in the conference room."

Death is a serious subject. I know this. A persons ultimate demise is not funny. Except for these ten.

Everyone has their own musical taste. Not everyone has good taste. In fact, America, for the most part, has atrocious taste in tunes. Case in point; American Idol is still moving products. I rest my case your honor.

SIDENOTE - I have always hated American Idol. It's ridiculous to me. Just a karaoke contest with corporate sponsors. I was hanging out with a girl a while back who insisted I give it one more chance. I relented because I'm a pushover and she was hot. That night's episode had one of those jokers doing Johnny Cash's "I Walk the Line." As Han Solo would say "I have a bad feeling about this." The hack began singing, "I keep a close watch on this heart of mine..." He slowed the tempo in half and tried to sing it as a Barry Manilow ballad. I couldn't take it. I didn't make it through half a song.

Okay, the worst bands of all time. I am not including performers that don't write their own songs and/or don't play instruments and therefore are not a band but a group. This eliminates the boy bands (again, they're not bands) Milli Vanilli (Though I blame that one on the rain), TLC and Destiny's Child. They don't qualify. Also not included are the annoying solo artists. So, no Richard Marx, Celine Dion or Michael Bolton. And no hip hop, or Insane Clown Posse would be number one with a bullet.

There are hundreds of decent stock photos out there.
And thousands of truly bad ones.

Here's ten that rise to the top of the toilet.

My last entry on video games caused quite a stir on several websites. (I didn't create the video game and, in truth, was attempting to show how over-the-top video games have become.) Reading over the various comments, I began to think about great women in video games. And there weren't many. Video games are tailored to adolescent boys, or in my case, guys in their late 20's attempting to hold onto whatever scrap of youth they have left. By catering to this community, you'll find women with top-heavy bodies wearing skin-tight clothes and, more often then not, trapped in a situation that requires a man to come and save them. Where are the women who aren't simply objects in video games?

I spent roughly 15 minutes compiling this list of great women in video games. I was also drunk. So my authority on the subject is less than stellar. However, I'd love to hear who you think should be added to this list in the comments section below.

(Photo by Sidereal)

If it's one thing we love here at YesButNoButYes - even more than free chocolate - it's bacon. MMMMMMMMM.

And as we approach Valentine's Day, we thought we'd offer up some tempting bacon-flavored treats to show that special someone in your life how much they care. I mean, you COULD always go for the easy "I Love You" option of the Bacon Of The Month club, but where's the romance in that? Take it from us, a custom gift basket of bacony goodness is the way to any man or woman's heart.

Well, another year has come and gone, and what do we have to show for it. The earth's a little warmer, the dollar's a little weaker and Roger Clemens is a little angrier. As for me, outside of being poked 42 times and the Helen Mirren restraining order thing, mine was pretty uneventful.

But ever since Sister Barbara passed wind in study hall, I've known if I don't have anything good to say, I should keep my friggin' mouth shut. So why not focus on the positives. Like...like all the stuff I learned. Yeah, come to think of it, 2007 was a really educational year.

Why, in just the past twelve months...

- I learned a wizard, a Senator and no one in Iran is Gay.
- I learned the world is round, but microwave popcorn sales are flat
- I learned maps and copies of origin of the species are in short supply.
- I learned bees are disappearing, but I think it's just because they heard Rupert Murdoch wanted to buy them.
- I learned LA has a soccer team.
- I learned thousands of former home owners are as good at math as I am
- I learned that as good ideas go, Fox News producing a comedy ranks up there with Mrs. Spears producing another child.
- And a writer's strike is never a good thing, but if there's a prairie dog with a menacing glare left in the world, I'll be ok.

Yeh, I learned a few things. But why am I wasting my time with this petty stuff? The things that really made me stop and think were the trends I watched develop over time. When I can piece a few isolated instances together and notice a pattern...well now I think I've learned something important. Well, these are some trends I noticed in 2007. You may disagree with some, but I think they all did a little bit to make 2007 stand on its own as a pretty interesting year. And so, I'd like to point them out.