Jim - Hey Betty, long time no see, where you headed?

Betty - To get my butthole bleached.

Jim - Oh yeah, my mom had that done.

Betty - Really? Is she a stripper?

Jim - No, she's just really self-concious about the color of her butthole. Why, are you a stripper?

Betty - No, I'm a call girl.

Jim - You're a whore?

Betty - Jim!

Jim - Well you have sex for money, right?

Betty - Well... yes.

Jim - Fuckin whore. See you at church!

Betty - Not if I see you first! Later Jimbo!

Memphis is going up against Oral Roberts in the first round of the NCAA tournament today. Oral Roberts. That's a great name for a college. It has a sister college named Anal Roberts across the lake. People go to Anal Roberts as a junior college so they can upgrade to Oral. I always thought it was the other way around. Don't most people do Oral first and the graduate to Anal? Maybe I'm just backwards. Nept is something. Hollaaaaa.

Back in the time when the Sasquatch ran free and his cousin the Yeti owned 96% of all business exports in Denmark, there was a man. This man was really cool. This man was cooler than you. Much cooler. So cool was this man that you could only speak his name in his native tongue, and only in a whisper. Jeremy. Shhh. Not so loud dipshit. Jeremy loved chicken. I should say Jeremy loved chickens, not chicken. He loved chickens in very inappropriate ways. Jeremy once caught the bird flu just so he could have something living inside him that was once in a chicken. Jeremy was possibly not so cool. Forget what I said about him earlier. This is all beside the point. The point is that in the time of the Sasquatch and Yeti times were good. Times were very good. Prosperous you could say. Could you say prosperous? I suppose I shouldn't assume you can say prosperous, not everyone can you know. I feel bad now for being prejudiced against people with speach impediments and assuming they can pronounce a word that possibly they have tried and tried to pronounce their entire lives and are on the verge of a breakdown and all it takes is just one more insensitive bastard to mention that one single word to drive them over the edge. I'm sorry. That's a lie, I'm not sorry. I recognize your burden but it's really not my problem. Anyway, on with the story. The Sasquatch was strong. The Yeti had smarts. Together they were virtually unstoppable. Unfortunately they were never together. They were held apart by the racism and oppression that were the 1980's. Damn those sons of bitches. Damn them. In 1980's Denmark things were hard for a Yeti, sometimes just getting to the store and back without hearing a racial slur was considered a victory. Wait, that's not true at all. Just above I said that times were good. Prosperous even. Let's talk about something else. Hey, remember that time our friend Travis jumped out of our second story window completely naked in the middle of winter and landed in a frozen snowbank and came back in all scratched up and bloody. That was awesome.

The Dream is Dead - Why Yanni, WHY!

Sweet delicious keyboardy ecstasy.

Yanni at the jailhouse.

Yanni, you son of a bitch. After all we have been through, you go and pull some shit like this. What... did our plans of world domination through brainwashing by contemporary new age music just slip your mind in a fit of rage? Just when the plan was starting to take shape, you go and get arrested for suspected domestic abuse. Good going, butthole.

Psst. Hi. I'ts me, Yanni.

We were making such progress, too. I mean just look at you, peeking your little Yanni head out of the crystal waters like the new age messiah. We sold out Radio City Music Hall for ten dates. We played in the shadow of the Taj Mahal and at the Forbidden City in China. Our TV special was seen in 65 countries by half a BILLION people. We had nearly the entire civilized world under our spell, thinking contemporary new age music was listenable and sometimes (rarely) even enjoyable (a little bit).

Thank you my dear. Your kiss makes my 'stache smile.

You were clearly kissed by the angels, my friend. Why wouldn't you just let your girlfriend pack her damn suitcase. Why did you have to leap upon her like a crazed Yanni-tiger? Now our dream, no, our passion is dead and gone. We were so close, honey pants, so very close. After your surgery was completed we were going to fly to your secluded island off the South of France to begin converting our new age fans into blind followers of the Yanni Revolution. I can almost taste the sweet morsels of success in that fantastic mustache of yours. I guess I'll just have to remember you by the last photo we took together. You were so happy with your brand new set of tits. Sigh.

Damn, Yanni. Are those natural?