Introducing an insurrection in the world of shaving:

The new Gillette SUPERNOVA.
Experience the fury of a thousand suns on your face through the power of 53 laser-milled blades. Fewer strokes means less irritation; now you can shave your entire head in one short stroke. Makes short work of your stubble, eyebrows and nose!

Also try new SUPERNOVA Power. A 49cc four-stroke engine in the handle generates micropulses that gently tease your follicles to the surface for swift, vigilante justice!

Plus, realize the added value of this multipurpose tool. Yard getting out of control? Fire up your SUPERNOVA Power and trim those hedges or mow the lawn! Burglar breaking into your home? Use the side-to-side motion to cut him off at the knees! Or neck! (Motion not recommended for use while shaving.)

WARNING: the Gillette SUPERNOVA is illegal in 43 states. Keep out of reach of children. Use at your own risk. In using the Gillette SUPERNOVA, you indemnify Gillette Inc. from any responsibility legal or otherwise and accept all risks and responsibilities associated with use, including, but not limited to, scrapes, cuts, razor burn, irritation, bodily injury, profuse bleeding, scarring and horrific death.


More Helpful Tips for Happy Halloweening

1. Choose your costume carefully. Going out? Wear something slutty. Especially if you're 100-600 pounds overweight. Really whore it up. Everyone loves to see those rolls. Halloween is all about the skin. Long before the pagans were sacrificing bunnies to the gods of moon cheese, exhibitionists were using October 31st as an excuse for running naked around the town square.
2. Choose your costume carefully. Staying in? Go conservative. When handing out candy to children, it's best to remember this simple rule: a pair of pants will keep you out of prison.
3. Appease the teenagers. You may think that those folks in the neighborhood association are the ones with the power. You're wrong. It's the teenagers you want to keep happy. That is, unless you want to have every window in your house broken with large rocks and your own dog. There are two things that make teenagers happy: sleeping and rebelling against their parents. You can't really do anything with the sleeping angle. The prison thing applies here, too. But you can help them rebel. And what better way to help them rebel than a handful of Jolly Ranchers and seven Dixie cups full of jungle juice?
4. Make time for some public service. Kids today have no respect for the danger of the modern automobile. Instill some by driving 50 mph around your neighborhood.
5. Planning on spending the night alone? Like every other night of your lonely, miserable existence. Hand out candy. It's a great way to meet single moms. Instant family! And it may seem counterintuitive, but don't dress up. Creepy and weird are not your friends. Trust me.


Helpful Tips for Happy Halloweening

1. Buy seven bags of peanut M&Ms. Ship them to me.
2. Stock your house with a ton of great candy. Kids hate that cheap stuff. That's how you end up with eggs on your car. Trust me. I used to love throwing eggs. You've got to build some excitement. Look for something name brand, preferably something with a soft center. Like Snickers or Three Musketeers. They're easier to get a syringe into.
3. Borrow a truck.
4. Swing by the big red dumpster behind a local hospital and pick up a syringe or three.
5. Get your hands on some medical-quality liquid sedative. Something strong. If you need some help with this, let me know. I've got some sources. (I can also get you a real cheap bottle of Vicodin, if you're interested.)
6. Fill your candy with the sedative. Don't be shy. Load 'em up good.
7. When the kids come knocking on your door, be generous. Encourage them to eat some of the candy while standing on your doorstep. If the parents are around, they might get a little suspicious. When they open their mouths to spout some nonsense about safety, stick some sedative-laced Snickers in there. If you did things right, the kids and their parents will only make it about ten steps into your yard, where they'll promptly pass out. Now you've got some great yard decorations. Spooky. Kids like that. Ambience and all that.
8. After the trick-or-treating traffic has died down, shovel the pile of kids and adults into the back of the truck. Drop them off in the yard of that neighbor whose dog wakes up at three a.m. every morning to bark for an hour and a half. They should wake up just about the time the cops arrive.
9. Deny everything.


I'm detecting a little animosity in your voice, and I have to say, I think it's a little unwarranted.

Look, just take it easy. It's not like I'm the one who laughed at you. At least, not the first one. That was Jill. I was just being supportive. She's very self-conscious. And besides, I would think that you would be used to people laughing at you by now. That script was not the first of its kind to come from your desk. Although it did set a new standard. Even after your explanation, I'm still having trouble connecting the dots between gourmet cheese, custom insoles and the rock formations of Moab.

Well, I'm not so sure that's true. Some ideas are bad. Like that one you had for the AARP convention. What's with you and leather? Seriously.

I'd really rather not get into that, but I will say that I don't think that's what she had in mind when she used the word 'unique'. And while I'm sure that your mother is a very sweet woman, I wouldn't consider her an authority on advertising.

Wow. Nice toss. You throw pretty hard. Stronger than you look. Though you could stand to work on your accuracy.

Now look what you did. That's the second time this month that you've made the intern bleed.


Sonic Crispy Jalapeño Strips, we hardly knew ye. Your term here with us was but a grain in the sands of time. One day you appeared on the drive-in menu, tempting us with flavor. And you delivered. You married the tart spiciness of light jalapeños with the tried-and-true magic of deep-fried batter.

But one day, you were no more. A scratchy intercom relayed the news of your passing, and we mourned as one. Rivers of grief streamed from our eyes as we sat in stunned silence.

We turned to Tater Tots for comfort, wallowing in grease-soaked potato pockets of dissatisfaction. Nothing could replace the delicate aroma of golden batter or the palate-pleasing conundrum of flavor that you brought to the world.

And though you were taken before your time, it's our hope that you've gone on to the great big seat cushion crack in the sky. The eternal picnic. The quick-cuisine hereafter. You will be missed, Sonic Crispy Jalapeño Strips. And we will never forget you.

be afraid

Man in critical condition after stingray attack in boat

Yes, this report is over a week old. But I have to be sure that the people know. The violence has escalated.

LIGHTHOUSE POINT, Florida (AP) -- An 81-year-old man was in critical condition Thursday after a stingray flopped onto his boat and stung him, leaving a foot-long barb in his chest in an accident similar to the one that killed "Crocodile Hunter" Steve Irwin.

Coincidence? I think not. The revolution has begun.

"It was a freak accident," said Lighthouse Point acting fire Chief David Donzella. "It's very odd that the thing jumped out of the water and stung him. We still can't believe it."

No doubt that the element of surprise is critical in the stingrays' rise to world domination.

Fatal stingray attacks like the one that killed Irwin last month at the Great Barrier Reef are rare, marine experts say. Rays reflexively deploy a sharp spine in their tails when frightened, but the venom coating the barb usually causes just a painful sting for humans.

"Something like this is really, really extraordinarily rare," she said. "Even when they are under duress, they don't usually attack."

Look at the signs, people. We must do something to stop the stingray uprising before more lives are lost.

I did my part by dispatching over forty stingrays with a portable deli slicer while we cruised the Caribbean.


When I don't post, it's usually because I've been too busy to think something up. I end the day without any ideas for this space because I've been too busy selling my other ideas to bosses and clients. Or breaking my back on dozens of menial tasks, like press releases and copy changes and regurgitated long-format text. And while I'm sure that sounds like a lie, I really am that busy. Writing here is how I slack off.

This week, there's been a flood of ideas for this space, but no time to type them out.

We leave for the Caribbean tomorrow morning, and it seems that I've had six weeks of work to do for the one that I'll be out. Sadly, frustratingly, maddeningly, I've had ideas this week that I haven't had time to type. They're just scribbles in my notebook. And they taunt my while I sleep. Four hours a night.

So while it may look like I’ve already left town, my vacation is just about to start. I’m not sure what internet access costs on the boat, but I imagine that it’s not cheap. So it looks like I won’t be putting anything up until Monday, October 23rd. In the meantime, here are a few of the many places where I go when I frequent the internets. Check 'em out. That is, if you want to.

[this blog will be titled when inspiration strikes me]
Jake Christie is a comedic genius. He's so smart, in fact, that I don't understand his most recent piece. At all. But I'm sure that it's very funny if you're into that sort of thing. There are days when Jake's talent makes me want to give up on writing and live in a dumpster, stealing boxed wine from Target and yelling at imaginary squirrels behind Oprah's house.

Eureka Blyth
Bekah wanted to name her baby Zoltan. What more do you need? Besides the photos, I mean.

Uncovering Signs of Life
Sarah is sometimes funny, sometimes serious and often so intellectual that I poop in my pants. And she's a great friend.

Seeking Sanctuary
B. Smith Wallace is an incredibly gifted writer and poet. She's an English professor. She may, however, be mentally deranged. She recently used my how to blog series to teach English to college students. And paired it with Flannery O'Connor.
[See? Shameless self-promotion is that easy.]

Savage Chickens
Chickens on a sticky note. Genius. And very, very funny.

What the Duck
A cartoon starring a camera-toting duck. Because I'm very into fowl. And it's very funny. If you're a photographer.

Some things to look forward to when I return (or shortly thereafter):
1. Painful self-inflicted torture at the DMV.
2. Open letters to fast food sides.
3. T-shirts.
4. The return of Poncho the Mexican Zebra.

That is all. Thanks for stopping by. See you when I see you.

news nugget

Bolivian miners duke it out

HUANUNI, Bolivia (AP) -- The Bolivian government deployed 700 additional police to quell a deadly clash that flared anew on Friday as rival bands of miners hurled dynamite at one another in a battle over one of South America's richest tin mines.

This is why I don't buy canned goods. Oppressed, angry Bolivians.

Officials say at least 11 people have been killed and more than 50 injured in fighting between independent miners' cooperatives allied with President Evo Morales and miners employed by Bolivia's state mining company.

So really, it's a fight between the Bolivian president and Bolivia. Sounds productive.

A truce on Thursday night lasted just long enough for both sides to bury their dead.

And buy more dynamite.

But at dawn Friday, hostilities renewed on the barren slopes of Posokoni Mountain, which looms over this small mining town 290 kilometers (180 miles) south of the capital of La Paz. Miners from both sides threw dynamite and homemade explosives at each other from ridge to ridge, sometimes separated by no more than 50 feet (15 meters).

I can't even picture this without thinking in cartoon images.

Miners, some only in their teens, carried sticks of dynamite in backpacks and tucked in their belts.

Teenagers with dynamite in their pants. In Bolivia, it's not a metaphor.

In town, residents held a prayer vigil in the local church for the violence to end. Blood stains and holes from explosives littered a soccer field in the Dolores neighborhood following fighting there Thursday.

The town hopes to resolve the dynamite fighting soon so that it can focus on ending the soccer-related bloodshed.

On Friday morning, members of the miners' cooperative rolled three tires packed with explosives down the side of the mountain toward town, causing an enormous explosion.

Really? That's weird. A big tire full of explosives caused an explosion. I would have expected the spontaneous growth of ten-foot daisies.

Bolivia's National Police Commander Isaac Pimentel told a news conference that 700 more police would be sent to the area, but Government Minister Alicia Munoz added shortly afterward that the police would not carry lethal weapons.

In fact, the officers will be shot in the face as they disembark the trucks. To save the miners the trouble.

Overnight talks led by senior government officials failed to achieve a lasting agreement. Defense Minister Walker San Miguel blamed "intransigents that have not signed on to the cease-fire," but said he hoped the rivals might return to negotiations.
"We do not believe the doors of dialogue have been shut," he said.

"And if they have been, we can just blow them open again. I know some guys with some dynamite."

Jerson Mollinedo, director of the state-employed miners' union, said his group wants peace, but not at any price.
"We don't want any more orphans," he said. "But we will not surrender even a millimeter to the cooperatives, because as a business we too want to employ our fellow workers."

"Plus, that orphan thing isn't all bad. The Chinese are raking it in on orphan sales. Maybe we can get a piece of that action."

The conflict turned deadly on Thursday morning, as hundreds of miners belonging to independent cooperatives stormed the state-owned Huanuni mine, demanding more access to its tin deposits. State-employed miners counterattacked to regain control of the mine and the groups exchanged gunshots and flying sticks of dynamite.

They thought about making it a white elephant, but the guys just weren't into it.

Independent miner Felix Condori told The Associated Press, "It rained dynamite."

"And the blood of my enemies."

Please, kids, don't put the dynamite in your pants.


Lost’s third season premieres tonight. If you don’t watch Lost, you might as well stop reading this post. In fact, you might as well stop reading this blog. That’s right. Don’t ever come around here again. Your kind’s not welcome here.

But in order to help you with your viewing of Lost this evening, words is pleased to present Helpful Tips for Happy Lost Watching.

1. Consume no liquids for at least six hours before the show begins. Yes, there are commercials. But you can’t afford to miss a single minute. Dehydration is a small price to pay for the best show on television. Your kidneys will get over it eventually. If you’re not willing to stop your intake consumption or have forgotten to limit it, swing by a medical supply store on your way home and pick up a catheter. I hear that they’re very nearly painless.
2. Clear your schedule. Most people won’t understand your need to watch every single moment of Lost. To ensure that you won’t be receiving any phone calls during the episode, tell everyone that you’re dead. An added bonus: when everyone finds out tomorrow that you’re not dead, they’ll be too happy to care that they spent all night driving from hospital to hospital in search of your body.
3. Thirty minutes before the show begins, do some light breathing exercises. Clear your mind and meditate on the meaning of Lost and the feelings that the characters might be experiencing. Picture yourself enjoying a romantic evening with [insert your favorite hot Lost character here] so that you might better empathize with them as they are being chased through the jungle by polar bears/the monster/the others/the zombie-fied Libby (spoiler alert!).
4. Don’t fall asleep while meditating.
5. Hyperventilate as the show begins. You’re just going to have to trust me on this.
6. During the commercials, do push-ups, jumping jacks and squats until the show comes back on so that you can identify with the exertion the characters feel just trying to survive on the island. If you can get someone to toss sand in your face while you do this, even better.
7. After the show, write emails to everyone you know informing them that you are, in fact, alive. Include a link to words.


And for those of you who don’t watch the show, thanks for ignoring me on that whole leaving thing. I’m just trying to impress those Lost freaks. They’re nuts, but I’m desperate for readers. So please stay. I’d be lost without you. I’m so lonely.



From beach to boardroom, Pantshorts® are pants... and shorts! Wake up in the morning and pull on some Pantshorts®! All the formality of pants, but just zip them off at the knees and you've got the uninhibited freedom that only shorts can offer!

Pantshorts® are perfect for those days when you just don’t know where life will take you. Will it be the Bahamas or the snowy mountain peaks of Belgium? With Pantshorts®, a parka, some suntan lotion and a stack of international currency, you’re ready for anything!

Just listen to what our customers have to say:

“With Pantshorts®, I can walk out the door confident in my personal versatility. I can wear shorts knowing that if a light breeze picks up, I can combat the elements with pants!”

“I love Pantshorts® because I love shorts! And pants!”

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Pantshorts® are also perfect for clandestine operations! Afraid that you might have blown your cover? Just unzip your Pantshorts® and you’ve got an instant disguise! You’re free to slip away unrecognized and leave your enemies scratching their heads in confusion!

So if you're ready to enjoy all the formality of pants combined with the freedom that only shorts can offer, pick up your pair of Pantshorts® today!

Pantshorts®! Always down.


Tag lines for an expensive restaurant

The name is French because it sounds fancy.
We pay off-duty cops to keep the bums off the sidewalk.
Big prices. Tiny portions.
We charge a lot because we love your money.
Girls will like you if you buy them food you can't pronounce.

radio is cool again

Last weekend, I had the chance to play around with my buddy's ReRad. It's this cool little device that's sort of like a cross between an iPod and TiVo.

You set it up with the satellite radio in your car (or wherever, I guess) and it records stuff. Music, news, weather, talk shows... Anything that the signal on your satellite receiver will pick up. Then you can play those recordings back whenever you want.

But here's the best part: it's got a hard drive with tons of storage and USB connectivity. So you can transfer all your recordings to your computer. Then you can take them and transfer them to other devices or just move them to storage. Plus, you can take those recordings and share them with your friends.

So if you heard something funny on Opie and Anthony, you don't have to wait until all your friends are in the car with you to show them, you can just send them an email with the file and all the humory goodness.

My buddy has his set up so that he can listen to music or the water and traffic reports and record stuff on one of the comedy stations at the same time. Then he can download those comedy shows to his computer and saves them up for when he's traveling. (He spends a lot of time on airplanes.)

So if you've got satellite radio, think about getting a ReRad. I think it easily doubles the value of your subscription.

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