Valentine's D

8:30am
B-Trip: Home

You know you've found your soul mate when you live for each moment you spend together and happily devote your life to making the other's easier*. Also, when you can say:

"Honey, I'm going to keep track of every D I take this year online."

And after a moment of consideration, when she cracks a smile and does her best Renee Zellweger ("You had me at 'every D'."), you know this love was meant to be.

Elle, you and I are cut from the same cloth. Happy Valentine's Day.

In many ways, I guess we're a lot like the couple in this tender and poignant short film that proudly boasts the D-Liberation Smudge of Approval.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kxZGlP-nw0k

Kudos to its creator, Scott Rothman, for helping keep the letter D not only at the front of the alphabet, but also in the forefront of our national consciousness.

*Six, count 'em, SIX "you's" in that sentence. Who says it's all about me?


11:10am
B-Trip: Home

It's been a while since I've delivered a Followup D. I'd like to thank the jalapenos in last night's homemade burritos for the opportunity.

A quote from President Bush's news conference earlier today has been rattling around in my head:

"Let's put it this way, money trumps peace, sometimes. In other words, commercial interests are very powerful interests throughout the world."

Wow....Could this have been a rare moment of clarity? A frank sentence or two shedding light on the real reasons our foreign policy has become such a mess?

Ummmm.....No.

He was actually responding to a question about why, if Iran is indeed the looming threat his administration claims, why are so many of our allies unwilling to support military action?

So don't worry. There were no ulterior motives for the Iraq invasion. Saddam was seconds away from killing us all. Now if you'll excuse me, there's a lot more freedom to cram down these people's throats.

Oh, man....I just took D on my soapbox.

That's gonna leave a smear.

A Few Good D's

8:00am
B-Trip: Home

A strange, suspicious Morning D. Slimy and viscous like Texas tea.

Oh...is that 'TMI'? Feel you're entitled to a little discretion on my part?

Then consider yourself Lt. Daniel Kaffee to my Col. Nathan Jessup. Because clearly you can't handle the truth.

You need to understand something, we live in a world of walls. And behind those walls people Take D. And who's going to write about it? You? You...Lieutenant Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom.

You scoff at my frankness, and you curse the details. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know - that my D, while nasty, probably saved lives; and the candor of my description, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives.

You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want to Take D -- you need to Take D. I use words like "honour," "B-trip," "Morning D." I use these words as the backbone of a life spent defecating. You use them as a punch line.

I have neither the time nor the inclination to censor myself for anyone who logs on and snuggles under the blanket of the very 'D-tails' that I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide them. I would rather you just said "thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you fire up that laptop and start chronicling your well-mannered and respectable D's.

Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to!


8:10pm
B-Trip: Home

One of those D's that won't let you leave.

All I want to do is go. I've long since achieved Nirvana and need to get back out to the world. But no. "Not so fast", my stomach keeps cautioning, "There's more!"

Again, it's stinky, slimy, and reluctant.

What did I eat yesterday? It had to be the spaghetti & meatballs I had at a friend's place last night. They were delicious ...and unique: Instead of marinara sauce, he used a' bubblin' crude. It's what you might call the road less traveled, and I'm quite certain it made all the difference. With a capital D.

And if you care to go full circle...what movie was my friend a producer on?

Yep.

A FEW GOOD MEN

D-celleration

9:32am
B-Trip: Home

Morning D is in absolutely no hurry today, only just now rearing its ugly head (and I mean ugly) after I've been awake a few hours.

Had some steak yesterday which, I suppose, can gum up the works like Gramps in the cereal aisle.


5:25pm
B-Trip: Home

Sitting here doing a crossword puzzle.

I'd rather not be, but I need to get my confidence back. I ravaged last Sunday's crossword, but was helpless in the face of yesterday's. So I'm tackling today's easy one.

Face it, some D's are best spent picking up the pieces of your damaged ego.

Second D

1:15am
B-Trip: Home

Grace before beauty. D before bed.

Reading about a divorced couple in Brooklyn. It's nasty between them. Way worse than this D.

Their separation is so spiteful that each refuses to move out of their three-story home. So what did the judge decide? Build a wall and divide the house in two.

Chana Taub, 57, got the garage, front door, spiral staircase, three bathrooms, second-floor kitchen, four bedrooms and a nursery on the third floor.

That left Simon Taub, 58, with a side entrance into the first-floor living room and bathroom, along with a second-floor dining room, which he could only access by walking up his neighbor's stairs outside, climbing over a railing on his balcony and entering through a window. To his wife's dismay, Simon paid construction workers to build a spiral staircase on his side, allowing him to get from his living room to his dining room.

Simon says he intends to stay until she moves out. "I want a peaceful life, and that's it," he said. "I don't want nothing to do with that woman."

I can read between those double negatives......he wants her back!

While it's tempting to side with Simon Taub since his wife's viewpoint dominates the article and she's clearly a moron, this little nugget, courtesy of the wife's sister, caught my eye:

"He never flushed the toilet," Newhouse said. "He made her clean up after him. She always had to flush the toilet, even when there was company there."

Now, I don't know the Taub's. It's possible that Simon can do with his poo what Edward Scissorhands can do to shrubbery. If so, then I understand his reluctance to flush. At least until his wife has had a chance to behold his artwork. That's a hallmark of a healthy marriage.

But the Taub's union sounds anything but healthy, which leads me to believe this dude is one gross bastard.

Long story short...Dudes, unless you've managed to either spell out your name or create a world class likeness of Solomon Wilcotts, flush it away.

Every time.


10:10am
B-Trip: Home

SPOILER ALERT: This anecdote ends with an anticlimactic dickover!

So I'm reading an article in The Week magazine about the popularity of virtual worlds. Sites like secondlife.com offer the social equivalent of communal warfare games like World of Warcraft.

Millions of people sign on to these simulated worlds because the real world either stinks, or is too real (Bro.....totally....), or fails to incorporate the term 'Linden' nearly enough.

Second Life seems to be the most popular. Feel like robbing a bank? Go for it. Looking for some sweet inter-avatar congress? (And, really, who isn't?) It's all good. Basically, if you enjoyed THE MATRIX but wished its graphics more closely resembled Dire Straits' 'Money For Nothing' video, then Second Life is for you. It even has its very own news service complete with an anchorman, a one 'Adam Reuters'.

Of course it sounds wonderful. My glaring concern is that I never have enough time for everything in my First Life! How am I possibly going to crack into #2? Unless it offers another 24 hours per day, it won't work for me.

But then a thought occurred to me: What would it be like to Take a Cyber D?

That I had to find out.

So I went to secondlife.com and signed up.

Signing up is easy. Masquerading under the unlikeliest of monikers, Darth Ebbage, I chose the 'city chic' avatar due to its uncanny resemblance to Savion Glover. If I could enter this brave new world tap-dancing like Mumble, I'd probably be knighted within the first five minutes. Or, at the very least, impress the denizens of Second Life while robbing their bank.

Everything seemed to be progressing just fine. After opening the program and logging in, the status bar danced along, slowly pulling the curtain back to reveal a new world of mystery and intrigue.

And then the program crashed.

Dicked.

I tried again. Nope. Another time. Nada. Sometimes I could even catch a glimpse of other users' avatars before the crash, but never for more than a second. Tenacity doesn't seem to get you as far in this virtual world as it can in real life (or RL, if you're a cool cyber guy like Darth Ebbage) because after fifteen different times logging in, I was unable to fully establish a connection.

I assume it's my wireless connection, but I'll be damned if I'm going to plug in for this. Computers serve me, not the other way around. I'll just as soon abandon Darth Ebbage mid-heist than have to run a cable across the room to my desk.

Also, the fact that my laptop is a Commodore 64 can't help matters.

Or maybe it's just karma. After all, Second Life is very popular. I've never been immediately accepted by the cool kids. I tend to be the guy outside the club hoping the bouncer will eventually let him in. And then when I finally do get it, not only does it hardly seem worth the wait, it's certainly nowhere you'd want to Take D.

So given that perspective, maybe I saved myself some time (except, of course, for the ninety minutes I spent trying to log in). Second Life will have to carry on without me.

That said, I'd love if someone could answer this burning question:

Were it not for his still birth, would Darth Ebbage have been able to Take D?


11:30pm
B-Trip: Home

Brought a Sudoku into the B-Trip with me.

But I got stuck.

So I just stared at a piece of newspaper for approximately seven minutes.

Barackin' The Suburbs

9:40am
B-Trip: Home

Wanted to read Tim Rutten's column, but the topic was Anna Nicole Smith.

She dicks me.

This commercial, however, is hereby certified with the D-Liberation Smudge of Approval.


6:00pm
B-Trip: Home

I can hear, in the other room, a replay of Barack Obama's speech from earlier today in which he threw his hat into the '08 Presidential race.

What a dick that guy sounds like. Just an insecure asshole scarcely capable of stringing a full sentence together. Lacking any and all cognitive thought, he'll no doubt squash all dissenting viewpoints regardless of their merit and speak only in pre-approved sound bytes while walking around with his chest puffed out.

Wait...I might be thinking of somebody else...

Oh, yeah. Barack Obama. Impressive speech. I'm going to go ahead and make him my current standard-bearer. If somebody wants my vote, they gotta top his high-water mark. So don't forget to pack your fiberglass pole, Mitt, should you care to do some vaulting.

Who am I kidding? I'm voting for the first candidate to incorporate Taking D into their platform. Even if, Lord help us, it's Christopher Dodd.

Top 10 Reasons I'm Intrigued by Barack:

10) His inauguration would signal an end to the Bush/Clinton/Bush progression of two-family rule that has started to destroy our country.

9) He seems determined to clean up Washington, and hasn't been there long enough to be irreparably corrupted.

8) The dude's track-record shows a propensity for consensus building. The system only works if people attempt to work together.

7) Cleanliness is, after all, next to Godliness.

6) His initials + '08 spells "BOOB" (more or less). That can only be a good thing.

5) He strikes me as genuine human being. Any other candidates come across that way?

4) He's often flashing his bright smile, but there's another face he makes that impresses me even more. It's this stern "You gotta be fucking kidding me" look. I wish I could find an example of it. (I'll come across it at some point and post it later.) Regardless, this skeptical face, while respectful, says he's not to be messed with....and I believe it.

3) He's so frequently humbled. Every time he addresses a group of people, he's humbled. It's important to me that civil servants, including the President, be humbled by my dumb ass.

2) Wants to close the widening income gap in this country. I have no joke about this. Someone needs to address this problem.

And the number #1 reason I'm intrigued...

1) Just like me, he hates getting stuck next to Lieberman on the bus.

Pimp My D

8:50am
B-Trip: Home

I woke up.

I went poo.

More or less in that order.


4:27pm
B-Trip: Home

You may have seen this.

Roto-Rooter is giving away a Pimped Out John, complete with laptop, beer tap, X-Box, Flatscreen, TiVo, seat warmer, and pedals so you can exercise your legs. It's "Perfect for Multitaskers". The total value comes to around five grand, so if you're interested (and don't mind receiving spam from Roto-Rooter for the rest of your life) be sure to get your name in before April 2. The lucky winner will be crowned on National Plumber's Day, April 25, 2007.

Roto-Rooter is naturally giddy about their ostentatious toilet. Here's what they have to say about their promotion:

After all, what is a toilet? A private seat of power, a place to escape and experience a few stolen moments of pure solitude.

I'm with you so far. In our hectic, 24/7 world there are few places left where you can be all but certain you'll be left alone. That is the very essence of Taking D, and why it's so important.

It should be the most wonderful location in your home, but unfortunately, most toilets are bland and boring.

Hmmmm...the B-trip IS the most wonderful location in my home. But having to find some way to run the cable line in there, as a Pimped Out John would necessitate, would make things worse, not better.

Most toilets are just toilets. Plain and simple. As long as they flush properly and are remotely clean, who complains? For anyone honestly concerned about their toilet being 'bland and boring', slap a bumper sticker on it. Or stop flushing altogether. Either way, it's sure to become a conversation piece.

'The bathroom is the perfect place for your very own throne. It shouldn't always be regarded as the room of last resort', contends Steven Pollyea, Roto-Rooter vice president of marketing.

Any time a VP of Marketing 'contends', he's trying to sell you a bag of goods.

Since when is the B-Trip 'the room of last resort'? What about the living room? You actually eat there, what, maybe five times a year? People use their bathroom five times a day.

Can't you just see how this is going to end? Some college kid will win the Pimped Out John for his dorm room. He'll fight the university tooth and nail to allow him to cram it into the tight quarters. Their squabble will be a running gag all semester in the student newspaper. The university will finally acquiesce, but the kegerator is not allowed. He'll be fine with that because he's only 19 and, when you really think about it, only the lowliest of hardcore alcoholics needs draught beer readily-available when taking a dump. I mean, even a thirty year-old Dubya would have found that extreme.....BUT TOTALLY AWESOME!!!

Anyway, Team Roto-Rooter will come out and find some way to cram the thing into his dorm room B-trip. There will certainly be no room for the pedals (so suffice it to say...this guy's quads are f*cked!).

It will be so great for five minutes. Pictures will be taken. But the next day, as he's still getting the hang of it, his iPod will topple off the docking station attached to the toilet paper dispenser. From there it will drop into the dreadful liquid netherworld, a rather annoying turn of events for our big winner. In fact, he'll tire of all the bells and whistles in less than a week. Who wants to spend hours sitting on the toilet? His friends will still think it's cool, but he'll ignore the Pimped Out John entirely except when they stop by. The same thing happened when my Grandmother, rest her soul, gave my siblings & I a trampoline for Christmas.

Here's the thing: B-Trips need to be, above all, sanctuaries. That requires space and openness. Nancy Grace can wait til you're done (and hopefully even longer). As modern technology impinges upon all facets of our lives, we must keep the B-Trip sacred.

"ABC, BBD"

12:35pm
B-Trip: Home

I've never been able to sit still without some song or melody emerging from the fertile crescent of my subconscious to take a few spins around my cranium. In the face of sensory deprivation, I'll fill in the gap one way or another.

Sometimes it's just an annoying jingle that, if vocalized, would legally justify Elle smothering me in my sleep. That happens a lot while I'm jogging. The repetitive sound of my feet hitting the sidewalk provides the rhythm, and I end up spending a few miles trying to eradicate the infantile melody from my brain. This rarely works, since such tunes always seem to have the leech-like death grip of a Wilson Phillips anthem.

That's probably why I've never run a marathon.

Other times, a forgotten song blossoms out of nowhere. It rarely warrants mentioning since it happens so often, but at present Boyz II Men's "Motownphilly" is making the rounds...and it occurs to me that this song may be a kindred spirit.

"Motownphilly" was one of those songs that you knew was gold the first time you heard it. Catchy, fun, and with harmonies so tight they could only be described as 'Cooleyhigh'. Indeed, Boyz II Men was going off. And their music, just like Goldilocks's preferred porridge consistency, was 'Not too hard, not too soft.'

But sometimes newcomers bursting onto the scene like this can be too much for us in the general public to handle. Not to worry. The producer who discovered them - Bell Biv DeVoe's Michael Bivins - swoops in a couple times throughout the song to ease digestion and provide a little background: "Yo, check this out. One day back in Philly, four guys wanted to sing..."

I don't know about you, but I appreciated this formal and proper introduction. Some may have deemed it unnecessary, but it's way better than, say, those heathens from Creed. I still refuse acknowledge them in any way, arms wide open or otherwise.

The video was even more brilliant than the song. Sure, the fashions and dance moves seem comically dated nowadays, but what happens approx. 90 seconds into the song will live forever.

It's the first time we hear from Michael Bivins. And where do we find him? That's right, he's Taking D. Never mind there's a party raging right outside the door. He even brought the newspaper in with him!

Clearly immersed in the Zen-like state one always strives for when Taking D, he's unfazed by our intrusion. I've never been able to make out a damn word he says other than "you know they be talented", but that's alright. Like most of us, he's probably not used to having conversations while Taking D.

It was an historic moment for American music -- the first time someone performed in a video while Taking D.

And I don't believe anyone has done it since. (Though, admittedly, I haven't seen anything Carrie Underwood's been up to lately.)


7:30pm
B-Trip: Home

Pre-jog D.

Reading about Tim Russert's testimony at Scooter's trial.

I have nothing particularly insightful to report, but I do know that if I ever write a book about my father, Randall Pice, we'll never look this corny on the cover.