You all know DJ Daymage. Not only does he make amazing mixes and provide soundtracks to bachelorette party videos, but he comes through on some pretty amazing birthday gifts. A few years back, he gave me this priceless item:

But, still, I had so many questions. This little guy was willing to hold whose bag, exactly? My bag? Gareb Shamus’ bag? The long-awaited answer came this year, with yet another piece to add to my collection of tragically misspelled art, including the famed Finger Pupies. Behold:

Shown: The unfortunately named “Male Bag.”

My cat, Champion, wants no part of this. Even without his balls, he knows the difference between “mail” and “male.”

But my other cat, Cricket, is another story altogether. Cricket looovves to play with my Male Bag. She gets a treat every time she plays with the ding dong on my Male Bag. She used to get a treat for just touching or rubbing up against my Male Bag, but I started running out of food quick. Observe! Maybe you’ll learn something:

CONTEST UPDATE: Shockingly, the SOUTH PARK SEASON 13 Blu-Ray and WHAT’S MY PEE TELLING ME? book are still unclaimed. Read about how easily you can win them here.

Note: This is a long entry. Just man up and take the ride. There’s a contest at the very end to win a book called “What’s My Pee Telling Me?” from Chronicle Books and South Park Season 13 on Blu-Ray from Comedy Central.

First things first: My headline is probably misleading, because there are two definitions of “tryst.”

1. An agreement, as between lovers, to meet at a certain time and place.

2. A meeting or meeting place that has been agreed on.

Clearly, I would never intend to meet Gareb Shamus as a lover (though I totally might, have you seen him lately? We’ll get to that) But definition “#2″ deals with our agreed meeting place. Which, in this case, would be something called FaceBook.

Pretty straightforward questions, I think you’ll agree. Important ones, too. I don’t want to toot my own hose but I’m a reporter, you know.

But then something goes horribly wrong between Gareb and I. CLICK THROUGH to find out how Gareb responds to my sexual advances which I just couldn’t contain anymore.

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Welcome to part 2 of World of Ward Crap’s 13 WEEK series on filming junior dance competitions. Read about last week’s travesty adventure HERE.

Having survived a trip to the heart of Amish darkness last week, Bryan and I once again mounted our mini-van and headed to another dance competition in Nashville, TN—this one was at the Grand Ole Opry (or “The Grand AOL Opry” as my text messaging spell check kept insisting, giving me a possible glimpse into the not-so-distant future). To catch you up to speed, here’s what I’m involved in:

Terrifying, right? It’s weird how things work out. I first met Dan Raleigh (aka, Fred Price) when I worked for Wizard Magazine…my friend Junkstore Jesse Thompson and I picked his hilarious video Supercycle USSR as Wizard’s “Direct to Video” contest winner. We flew him out to Chicago to collect his prize, and Dan and I immediately learned we shared the same love for things like the Beastmaster and stuffing large plants into hotel elevators. Now, years later, he’s kind of my boss. Check out his winning Wizard video. I should mention that Josh Powers (seen below) is also my boss, which is AWESOME. Do you have a cooler boss than this? I don’t know, has your boss ever stolen a Russian super bike? There’s something else familiar about these two videos…listen closely.

Yep, after you hear the narrator from Supercycle, it’s hard to take the dance commercial seriously ever again. Hooray, Easter Eggs!

Now, on to Nashville…..Click through to hear about the Dukes of Hazzard museum bathroom incident, which country music stars are dicks, and why Tupac and milk go together so well…

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Here’s the thing about being an astonishingly talented and sexy writer: it doesn’t pay the bills. And I don’t mean phone bills and electric bills. Oh, heavens no. Those are extravagant fruits I’ve not yet tasted. I’m talking McDonald’s Dollar Menu Bills (I’m running a tab, they know I’m good for it). So occasionally, I take on jobs that: A) payz the billz and B.) providez an endlezz stream of new storiez to tell U guyz LOL. For the next 13 weeks or so, I will be traveling around the country filming Youth Dance Competitions for companies with names like Bravo! and Nexstar! and Headliners! In short: I’ll be videotaping little girls every weekend for money.

Left: What I’m filming every weekend. Right: “I was just doing my job.”

We rolled into Lancaster, PA last week right in the heart of Amish Country. And that night, there was a funny video going around the YouTube about our sudden situation. Except it’s not so funny when you’re sitting in a hotel in Pennsylvania, buried under one of the worst snowstorms in US history.

So besides being stuck in a town with hundreds of dancing children, it got stranger. In fact, everything in this town seemed…very not right. And that’s before I saw an Amish family going down the road, smiling from ear to ear, bundled up and holding a giant keyboard they’d just bought from Target. The town next to Lancaster is called “Intercourse,” for one. Imagine my disappointment after Bryan and I followed the sign for “INTERCOURSE: 10 MILES.”

“Intercourse: Lancaster County is about Families Doing Things Together.”

Then the hits just kept on coming…no pun intended. Was Pennsylvania founded by 13 year old boys?

And, of course, to get to Intercourse you have to first drive through Blue Ball (traffic is really backed up there. Just painful). From there you can get to Paradise, and eventually Fertility.

This is all very unfortunate. Probably as unfortunate as the town’s main liquor store being literally right next door to its rehab center. “Lord grant me the serenity to…aww, fuck it. Jager bombs are calling my name!”

THIS WEEK’S STOP: NASHVILLE, TN…where I’ll be staying with Junkstore Jesse! Stay tuned….

I’ve been off the radar lately because of a boatload of things in my lap that, sadly, aren’t lap dances. But I would hate to deprive you the chance to have your Monday ruined by coming to my website. Ruining things is what I do. Hope your Monday sucks! BLEAHH!

So was it a coincidence that Conan was canceled after my comic book appeared on his show, or yet another conspiracy against our nation’s Chris Wards? The Chris Ward curse continues, unchallenged! [SAD TROMBONE!]

And speaking of Conan, why does he insist on going by the name “Mrs. Stewart” and tricking me into think Liquid Bluing makes clothes white? [Sad Trombone!!!!]

I took this at the airport. Either security is lax enough where someone can hack in and dick around with the LED sign behind the flight gate, or someone in charge of airplanes thought this was a funny/good idea to put up on their sign. Either way, I feel incredibly safe, thank you for asking! [Ladies and Gentlemen, if you'll turn your attention out the righthand window you'll see we've reached our SAD TROMBOOOOOOOOOONE! destination]

Did you know at Apple stores, there are little Apple viewing areas where you can cram in and sit and watch Apple commercials on an Apple Genius iScreen iTheater on an endless loop? Doesn’t that sound like fun? Doesn’t this seem like, oh I don’t know…. THE MOST IRONIC SHIT EVER?!?!?[SAD TROMBONE!!!]

Hey lady, what did you THINK only 10 skee ball tickets was going to get you? Try a little harder next time. [Photo courtesy the estate of Charles Edward Cheese][SAD ANIMATRONIC TROMBONE!!]

Ok, so yesterday I touched on Handicapable Gospel Singers. But there are also a multitude of able bodied fire-and-brimstone preachers who  shouldn’t have been allowed near a recording studio, Dictaphone, homemade tin can and string, or otherwise. Here’s a few I found while digging through records at Vintage Vinyl in St. Louis and, again, from this site.

What in Hell do I want? Well, for starters, not to be cheerfully flipping through records and suddenly getting yelled at like I was selling cell phone upgrade plans door to door. The back of the album says “If you think about it for just one moment this is one of the most logical questions you will ever be asked.” Hey kids, the next time your parents ask “What in hell do you want?”, tell them that’s one of the most logical things you’ve ever been asked. Then enjoy your brisk, merciless beating with a JC Penny’s fake leather belt.

“What if Mary Would Have Had An Abortion?” Wow. That’s gotta be the worst Marvel “What If?” issue in the series, right above “What If Wolverine Drank and Drove the Blackbird through a Children’s Hospital?” I guess the answer would be, “she’d look like someone ate the last Little Debbie’s Stars & Stripes Snack Cake, just like Rev. Johnny Williams here.” Actually, he looks just like when Louis Gossett Jr. wants Sean Astin to PICK UP THAT GODDAMNED BANANA in “Toy Soldiers.”

“Hi! Am I a bigot? Well, I don’t see any other bigots on this album cover so you must be addressing me. Also, where’s Jesus? He was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago. I can’t wait to meet him, I wore my bright yellow background and everything.”

Record Company: “What’s your album called?”

Rev. Clay Evans: “‘Too Many Babies in The Church.’ You know, people who are babies spiritually, but also actual babies, whom I hate. I mean, leave your kids at home Sunday Morning, you know?”

Record Company: “So for the album cover, you’re thinking…”

Rev. Clay Evans: “Me riding a big camel through the desert.”

Record Company: “Oh good, good…I’m glad we’re all on the same page here.”

Hmm…this was in the Gospel Section, but I think Rev. “Cheeks” is a Reverend the same way Sgt. Pepper served bravely in the British Army.

“Lord, Seriously…I have osteoporosis. Lubricate my bones. And maybe add some cod liver oil to my diet, and grant in me the ability to decipher double entendres as they relate to ‘bone lubrication’ jokes hurled in my direction.”

I, umm…..I’ve got nothing. Except maybe “it’s my world, and it’s not a place I have to hide in/
Life’s not worth a damn ’til you can say ‘Hey world, I ammm what I am-mmmm!’”

I got to go to a three year old’s birthday party yesterday, which would normally be hell on earth but her dad, Eric, had the insight and wisdom to have the party at Hooters. A very good time was had by all. Between distractions, he mentioned something to me his buddy said: “The only way I would listen to Lady Gaga is if her name was Lady Galaga.” I thought this was the most brilliant thing I’d heard all week. Then I remembered seeing this in eighties issue of Electronic Monthly. Or maybe I dreamed it [click on image for full size]

Ladies, if you ever see this guy, get outta town. Unless it is of paramount importance for you to find someone’s wife, of course. If that’s the case, find out all you can about the husband and his entire family. Genealogy is creepy, man.

“Crack the identity of that woman. Look at the husbands dealings. Trace his entire family…Go now…”

The comics world was abuzz (so abuzz, they were afraid to comment!) upon seeing Watchmen creator Alan Moore’s psychedelic rock band in action, as I first witnessed with terrified eyes over at Topless Robot. This is a big deal for two reasons. 1.) The snake worshipping Moore rarely plays his breed of Showbiz Pizza Place-inspired rock in public, and 2.) It’s the first time in years he’s played with long-time bandmate Kenny Fisher from the film Can’t Hardly Wait

Did someone order a Love Burger…WELL DONE?

After I watched the video, I realized this was all very familiar. I emailed a friend of mine, and—YES—he sent me the only existing footage of Alan Moore’s first performance with The Retro Spankees singing “You Cannot Fart Around With Love” from 1969. I knew we had this laying around! But the real point I’m getting at is this: I’m sick today and don’t feel like doing anything, and by watching this video you will then feel exactly like I feel.

See? I wasn’t joking. Do you feel like doing anything now but taking a good, long shit? Of course you don’t. This video is an audiovisual stool softener.

Shown: Iron & Wine robs the clearance aisle of Kay Jewelers.

And SPEAKING of demons, December 5th is Krampus Day, so be sure to terrify all the children in your life by filling their heads with stories of Santa’s sidekick, Gruff Vom Krampus, an impish, black-tongued Satan who beat children with reeds and rattles chains in their ears. Leave it to Germany. Why, Krampus even has his own, hilarious Twitter page this season! I wonder what person(s) are behind that?

Shown: Giddy Up, Krampus! How can you have any apples if you don’t eat your MEAT!

Today is “Cyber Monday,” hot on the heels of “Black Friday” and a prelude to “Lime Green Dell Laptop Buyer’s Remorse Wednesday” and “Take Another Man’s Life to Get Your Hands on a Hamster Toy Piece of Shit Thursday.”

Like you, I avoided the “Big Box” stores altogether last week (I get all my Christmas gifts from Debbie’s heavily trafficked Build Your Toys From Trash website anyway) and hit a few of my own secret spots. Close your eyes and try to imagine opening these gifts on Christmas morning, and then divide that feeling by the number of Kleenex you’ll need to wipe away your tears, and you’ll have a formula for a Celexa-popping Xmas morning, Charlie Brown. As always, hope your Monday SUCKS! BLEAH!

This was sent to me by my friend Kim last year, but I just now got the courage to open an email called “Bag O’ Baby.” This actually brings back funny memories. Last year, I asked my wife for a Bag O’ Baby for Christmas, and imagine the look on her face when she showed up with a Glad Lock bag full of dismembered infant parts and I had to explain that I meant romper cotton onesies! I showed her this picture, and we all had a good laugh (well, except for the baby) and then sold the still-wriggling, pungent remains to The Beatles. But for some reason, this album didn’t make the Beatles Box Set. [SAD RINGO TROMBONE!]

Shown: “HA HA HA HA HA! Everything we do is genius!”

I don’t care if it’s marked down to $2.99…I will not open a box marked “Puppy Surprise.” Not after the Finger Pupies incident, anyway. [SAD TROMBONE!]

2008 Mattel Executive: “Ok, everyone…we’ve just produced 500,000 of, what I believe, will be the hot girl’s toy this year. The IM-ME! It updates the concept of “passing notes” for a new, tech-savvy generation of girls! You see, girls want two things: 1.) Things that are pink. It’s pretty much the only color girls like. 2.)High-tech gossip gizmos. The “IM-Me” takes the chat room…to the CLASS ROOM! Judy, write that down. “From the chat room…to the class room!” just like that, with the dots and the exclamation point. Of course, this may be hard to hide in the classroom, cause it’s big. Also, it beeps loudly. I’ve invested all my money–and I mean all my money–in this thing, I believe in it so strongly. You’re all getting bonuses!”

2009 Mattel Executive: [on phone] “How’s the IM-Me selling? What’s that? Cell phones, you say? Excuse me for one second.” [hangs jacket on chair, leaps out of 3rd story window. Only breaks legs. Dies, quite avoidably, from pulmonary embolism, as a result of DVT Blood Clot, when nurse simply forgets to administer routine Lovenox shot upon his release from hospital. Guilt-ridden nurse kills self.]

There. I hope you’re thoroughly depressed. If not, here’s the actual product description from the website:

It sounds 2good2btru – but it’s 4real! Girls, you no longer have to wait for your turn on the computer, because with IM-Me™ you can stay connected with family and friends from anywhere in the house! IM-Me™ for kids is private, convenient, portable and safe.
Even cooler, you can build your own community of
IM-Me™ friends. Once you’ve exchanged user names,
you’ll be able to instant message your buddies anytime, anywhere. What r u waiting 4? Start IMing now!

Now are you depressed? Good. I’m glad. [SAAAADDDD TROM-BONNNNE!]

The mouse you’re using right now may have more germs than a White Castle toilet seat French Fry. Actually, knowing you, it definitely has more. That’s why I can’t figure out why this mouse wasn’t a big hit. Was it because there’s an entire segment of the population who would NOT LIKE TO HOLD A COMPUTER MOUSE DIRECTLY UNDER A RUNNING FAUCET? Apologies to Howie Mandel, who owns 6. [WACKY SAD TROMBONE!]

Shown: Get it? He hates germs!

Let’s say you’re looking for ideas for your son’s Christmas gift. Your son is 15, and doesn’t really talk to you much anymore. He’s going through that “surfing the net in a locked basement” phase of development. You know how kids are. Well, if he won’t talk to you, there’s nothing wrong with checking out his web history to see what he’s been into these days. Hmm, it seems from 8PM until 3AM every night, he’s “curious” about “farm animals”! Thank god, because there is a Curiosity Kit to help him explore these curiosities! You’re a good mother. Your son is going to love this. [SAD TROMBONE!]

…Oh, and your son is also going to love this Christmas card with his Farm Animal Curiosity Fulfillment Kit. I guess what I mean to say is, even if you run a small time greeting card company, and your budget is lacking in this economy, do find an artist who has enough sense of field and depth of vision to avoid painting scenes where North American Brown Bears appear to discreetly fuck White Tail in front of the baby Jesus. I mean, come on…it’s Christmas. [SAD TROMBONE!]