See the animal in his cage that you built. Are you sure what side you're on? Better not look him too closely in the eye. Are you sure what side of the glass you are on? See the safety of the life you have built. Everything where it belongs. Feel the hollowness inside of your heart. And it's all Right where it belongs

What if everything around you Isn't quite as it seems? What if all the world you think you know. Is an elaborate dream? And if you look at your reflection. Is it all you want it to be? What if you could look right through the cracks? Would you find yourself. Find yourself afraid to see?

What if all the world's inside of your head. Just creations of your own? Your devils and your gods. All the living and the dead. And you're really all alone? You can live in this illusion You can choose to believe. You keep looking but you can't find the woods While you're hiding in the trees.

What if everything around you Isn't quite as it seems? What if all the world you used to know. Is an elaborate dream? And if you look at your reflection. Is it all you want it to be? What if you could look right through the cracks. Would you find yourself. Find yourself afraid to see?

by Nine Inch Nails on the album With Teeth

My good friend Shaun Pope and I were debating which was the worst superhero movie ever. I thought it was Batman & Robin. Pope thought it was Spiderman 3. After we could reach a consensus, we decided we would measure it scientifically.

We took an evening to watch them both. With pen and paper in-hand, we counted how many cool things each movie had (E.g. Flying surfboards), as well as all the dumb things (E.g. Robin's rubber lips). My buddy Ryan Skinner also sat in, but didn’t actively take part of the study.

After nearly four hours of bad movie footage, we got the following results:

They are both really dumb movies, but Batman & Robin is just a little dumber.

I've been neglecting the website for a month or two, not writing a lot, because I've been re-writing a lot. My book, "Million Dollar Ideas" is now finished. The paperback and ebook are currently available at lulu.com.

The ebook should show up in the ibook store in a few days. The paperback will be available at Ebay and Amazon in a few weeks. Eventually it will be available to order at Barnes and Noble and a few others. Hope you like it.

Why do we need more aggression? Two reasons. First, it is to counteract our increased wussiness. Tom Brokaw and his greatest generation were tough. Teenage boys now have tight pants, long pampered air and pink shirts (no offense), but we equalize it by offering double-cheeseburgers for $.99. Yeah, kids today aren't going to throw down fisticuffs, but they won't blink if they accidentally kill you by running you over in their Miata (no offense). Second, by keeping us all aggressive, crime increases, which is good for business. The police department keeps hiring and we are selling more guns and security systems. The fear keeps us glued to the nightly "news" which means more eyes on the advertising streams of commercial breaks.

Keeping us knee deep in meat and 24-hour "news" outlets have kept us plenty aggressive. However, all those cheeseburgers and T.V. watching turned us into a bunch of chunkers, too fat to serve in the military.

The plan backfired. So what does this all mean? U.S. subsidies of the meat industry will begin to fall as we look for the next big protein source. My guess. Peanuts. Lower fat, but still high in protein. If you are looking to diversify your stock portfolio, I would suggest investing in Planters.

Yesterday, I was driving home from work and I found myself having a staring contest with the back of a Mac truck. It was hypnotizing how much it looked like a giant robot face.

Dice and saute garlic in a small sauce pan with a little olive oil. In a larger page saute the chopped bell peppers, habanero pepper, onion. Add salt and pepper to that mix. In another pan, brown the hamburger and sausage. Drain the meat, and throw all that stuff to the crock pot. Drain the beans and diced tomatoes and add them along with the remainder of ingredients to the crock pot. Heat on medium for about six hours and BOOM, that chile is dynamite!

My friend Robin gave me a really cool Christmas present this year. She took a character from one of my drawings and recreated it in clay. She made the robot from my drawing, My Rust and Worries I've Left Behind. It turned out really cool and was such a kind gesture.

My mom is an amazing artist. She took a few of the drawings I made when I was youngster and was able to recreate them in thread. She quilted and stitched this blanket for Samantha.

• For the "pac-dots", start with a bowl of "Rice Crispies"
• For the multi-colored "ghosts", add the ghost marshmallows from "Count Chocula", "Boo Berry", and "Frankenberry" cereals
• For the "power-pellets", add a handful of "Kix"
• For the "bonus fruit" add some "Trix"
• For "Pacman" himself, you will need to get a box of "Alphabets" and pick out all the C's and U's.

I don't know the correct ratio of ingredients to make this good, so good luck in your efforts.

1. Uncle Flogurt
2. Spaghetti Rage
3. Electric Snuggies
4. Milk and Gasoline
5. Ultrasound
6. In Utero Hamster Wheels
7. Chauncey and the Astronauts

I moved to the bathroom, swinging my deadly fists around while walking as I typically do and ninja-kicked-in the door. I took my usual extra cold shower to fuel my rage and dried off with my choking cloth (aka towel).

Back in the bedroom, I opened the closet (not the booby trapped one, but the one that contains my cloths and swords). My black belt was looking kind of worn out. I guess its kind of old. I earned it at age four.

After walking down my irregularly angled staircase, which is really easy to fall down, I sat down with my super-hot coffee, which I've been known to sometime throw at random. I flipped on my incredibly old TV, which isn't worth anything. On the news, I saw that their was a robbery on the opposite side of town (the side that's really easy to rob), and I laughed.

When I was finished polishing my ninja stars and inspecting my surveillance cameras, I must have been a little tired still, because I almost walked right onto one of the house's several trap doors.

After breakfast, it was time for work, so I locked up my impenetrable fortress of a house and headed to my car. I blindly sped out of my driveway and almost hit one of the many police cars, which patrol my street. "Sorry officer Hairtrigger" I shouted. Halfway to work, I thought; did I forget to set lock number 63? I'll check when I come home at random during the day. I drove to work in silence as I always do since my car includes no stereo or other fancy expensive gizmos.

When I was done with work and combat training, I drove back home in silence as I always do since my car includes no stereo or other fancy expensive gizmos. I blindly sped into my driveway, and kicked in the front door, pistol drawn. I unlocked my refrigerator and prepared a nice dinner. I polished my guns, put one under my pillow, and went to sleep (with one eye open).

Sideways-basketball was the sport of the land. People would flock to the Great Ball Court of Chichen Itza from miles away to see these amazing games. The whole point of the game was to basically run around with a rubber ball and shoot it through a series of vertical hoops protruding from the court walls. The winner received the ultimate prize...to be killed. His soul would then be free to transcend to the heavens to join the gods. His body would then be thrown into the Well of Souls.

Sideways-basketball was Terri's favorite thing. He was known in his community as the sport's number one fan. He would always be the first one to the court, hours in advance, so that he could sit front and center.

As Terri got older, his parents grew concerned that he would never leave home. All he ever did was to go to the games. When he wasn't watching the games, he was talking about them.

"Terri" his father said. "Your mother and I love you, but we think it is time you get a job so you can save up and move out. It's about time for you to start taking care of yourself."

"But dad" Terri replied. "I'm not good at anything".

"My old roommate Bill tells me that the city has a position available. They are looking for a calendar maker."

"Ok, I guess"

Terri started work the following week. However, his new boss noticed that Terri was falling behind in his work. He asked around. "What has Terri been doing? Why is he not turning in his work?"

The story he got from everyone was that Terri would not shut up about sideways-basketball. He wasn't focusing on the calendar because he was constantly daydreaming about the sport.

Terri's boss decided to give him a pep talk.

"Terri," he said. "Who is your favorite sideways-basketball player?"

"I don't know," replied Terri. "All the good ones end up dead."

"Well, I want you to pretend you are a sideways-basketball player. In preparation for the big game, you have to turn out the best calendar ever."

As dumb as a concept that thought was, it seemed to work for Terri. He worked night and day at the calendar and what he ended up with was a work of art. But what now? There was no more work to be done now that this year's calendar was finished. Terri's boss told him to go ahead and start next year's calendar.

Years and years passed. Terri loved his job, but still loved sideways-basketball even more. When he wasn't making calendars, he was at the games. The strange thing was that the quality of the games kept going downhill. What used to be a fifteen-minute match, now took upwards of an hour to complete. Also, there seemed to be less and less people at the games.

The problem was that they were killing off all the best sideways-basketball players. The people playing now weren't super-athletes, but average Joes picked off the street. As years went on the games got longer and more boring. The population was also steadily declining.

One day, Terri got to the game bright and early, the first at the ball court as usual. When the time came for the match, nobody was there.

"Where is everyone?" Terri asked.

"They are all dead" said the voice of an unseen man behind him. Sideways-basketball claimed the lives of everyone, except you and I. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Roger."

"Well Roger, do you want to play some sideways-basketball?"

"Yeah, sure."

The game began. Terri was living his dream. He was in the ball court playing the game he had loved watching his whole life. The thing was, neither Terri nor Roger were any good. The game lasted literally weeks. Tempers began to flare between the two.

"Hey!" yelled Roger, "Is Terri short for terrible, because that's what you are!"

"Shut up Roger, I don't see you scoring either!"

Weeks turned to months. Months turned to years. At the tender age of 93, Terri finally did it. He made a shot and won the game.

"Woohoo!" Terri yelled, "I win! Now give me my prize Roger. Kill me and throw my body in a well."

Just them, Roger grabbed his chest, fell to the ground, and died of a heart attack. Suddenly Terri was completely alone. He was now the last of the Mayans. What would he do? The only thing he knew how to do...continue his calendars.

Years passed by as Terri feverishly added more and more years to his calendars. 2008, 2009, 2010. He could barely carve them anymore as his arthritis was killing him and he was running out of steam. 2010, 2011, 2012, and then it happened. Right before Terri started on the year 2013, Terri had died. The last of the Mayans and greatest calendar maker was gone.

I wrote this story because a lot of people see the ending of the Mayan calendar as some sort of doomsday prophesy, instead of the truth. Terri, the man, the legend, had to stop at some point. Though his calendars are now gone, his legend continues.

To this day, if you are in the Yucatan Peninsula, and travel to Chichen Itza, ask one of the locals to tell you the story of Terri, the last Mayan. They will look at you thoughtfully and say something inspirational like "Que?" They will then try to sell you a replica Mayan calendar for fifty pesos. If you don't have it, they will take forty, not because of desperation, but of pride. They just want to share the legend of Terri with the world.

Will Ferrell as Robert Goulet Ringtones

Ringtone #1 - "Your phone is ringing...da dee da daaa"
Ringtone #2 - "Dinkle donkle, dinkle donkle, someone's calling you"