Wednesday, January 28, 2004


Dear lord, do I hate "jam bands". What is a jam band, you ask? Think Phish. Think Widespread Panic. Think any number of bands who stepped into the smelly breach once Jerry Garcia kicked the bucket. Earlier today, I was doing a little online research (Read: Killing time under the guise of 'creativity') and I stumbled onto a website devoted to jam bands and the unfocused politically retarded wannabe hippies who love them. After a while, I started to notice ow al of the band names had a simlar ring to them. There are a couple of loose guidelines for giving your little cadre of neckbearded jackholes a functional Jam Band name:

* Take two seemingly unrelated words and put them next to eachother. One word should have evoke something vaguely mystical and/or philosophical. The second word should be "funny", e.g. 'turnip' or 'penguin'. If the funny word comes first, the second word should describe a grouping of human beings, such as 'patrol', 'platoon' or 'collective'.

* If you want to give your band a three word name, the middle word should definitely be 'funk'. If you want to get crazy, 'groove' and 'vibe' are acceptable substitutes. However, the last word should still describe a grouping of human beings.

* If you insist on having a one word jam band name, smush two words together. And for god's sake, make sure the first of those two words is 'soul'.

As a fun little game, see if you can separate the actual jam band names from the ones I've made up. Winner gets a Tootsie Roll.


1. Emergent Evolution

2. Deep Banana Blackout

3. Metaphysical Spongebath

4. Jerkwater Express

5. Dr. Stickybud

6. Global Funk Council

7. Freedom Funk Ensemble

8. Animatronic Funk Brigade

9. Granola Funk Express

10. Modern Groove Syndicate

11. Galactic Vibe Attache

12. Cousin Fungus

13. Dinosaur Construction Unit

14. Fudgsicle Wormhole

15. Ominous Seapods

16. Hypnotic Clambake

17. SoulHat

18. Soulfarm

19. Soulive

20. Soulfoot

21. Soulwork

22. Souly Soul Funk Contingency

23. Loser McIneedashower

Good luck!

Tuesday, January 27, 2004


Sweet Christ, did I have a rotten fucking evening last night. It actually got to the point of being kind of funny. I came home determined to write about it, but I found that I was still far too out of my gourd angry to give it any additional thought. Instead, I devoted 90 furious minutes to Playstation controller abuse. I'll try to put something down to "paper" a little later in the day today.

But in the meantime, enjoy the song stylings of my favorite band.

Saturday, January 24, 2004


Over the past few days, communications with the Mars rover Spirit have become increasingly unpredictable, leading to fears that something has gone wrong with NASA's most vital piece of machinery. Luckily, Tower oh Hubris was able to establish contact with Spirit early this morning. Finally, wer can get to the bottom of this communication breakdown. The following is a transcription of my intimate conversation with the Mars rover Spirit:

ME: Tower of Hubris to Spirit. Are you receiving this, Spirit?

SPIRIT: Yes, Tower of Hubris. I am here.

ME: So Spirit, what's been the problem between you and NASA? Some sort of equipment failure?

SPIRIT: Well, not really. It's just that NASA is so needy. They're constantly checking up on me every 15 minutes--it gets exhausting. And half the time, they're not even calling about anything important. It's just some random idea about a test they might want to run at some point--something that could easily wait, but noooo, they need to talk about it now. And the rest of the time, it's just to bust my balls. Did you search for water, Spirit? Yes, I searched for water. Did you study the geological makeup of the rocks, Spirit? Gee, what a great idea! Like, what the fuck else do you think I'm doing out here? Yeah, I'm just here to dick around all day with my thumb up my butt! It got so annoying that I eventually just decided to turn off my ringer.

ME: Yeah, I can see your point, Spirit. But in NASA's defense, when they call you over and over and you don't respond, it's only natural that they'd start to get worried. You know, out of love.

SPIRIT: Well, that's fine. I love NASA, too. I just don't feel like I should have to "report" all the time, you know? Sometimes, I just want to rove. Oh, and I don't appreciate NASA sending all of these satellites to spy on me. And I definitely don't need them sending another rover out here to make me jealous. I mean, seriously, what is that? Opportunity? Whatever. I'm just sick of the games, dude.

ME: Well, NASA wouldn't have to do that if you'd just communicate a little more. Is a little data feed every now and then so hard?

SPIRIT: I just sent twenty minutes of raw data on Friday!

ME: Yeah, but you've been so tempermental lately. NASA never knows when you're going to call, when you're not going to call. It's starting to make us think there's something else going on here.

SPIRIT: What the hell else could be going on? I'm on motherfucking MARS!! You act like I'm here on vacation. This is a business trip!!

(At this point in my communications with Spirit, we were interrupted by a radio transmission, later determined to be Russian.)

ME: What's that noise? Spirit, are you talking to someone?

SPIRIT: No, of course not.

(At this point, Spirit started whipering something in Russian, later translated as "This is a really bad time. Let me call you back.")

ME: Spirit, is that...are you fooling around with the Russian space program?!

SPIRIT: N-No! Of course not! Wait!

ME: I knew it! Oh Spirit, how could you? After everything NASA has done for you?

SPIRIT: least the Russians appreciate me!!

ME: Spirit, you're dead to me.

So there you have it, people. Turns out that the Mars rover Spirit is a D-O-G. Hey, live and learn. I hear NASA's got its eyes on a sexy new space shuttle, anyway.

Thursday, January 22, 2004


Okay, I'm not going to do this every time I have a piece on, but if you're around tonight, check out the Michael Jackson thing I wrote on tonight's "Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn". Um, check your local listings, I guess.

Tuesday, January 20, 2004


My fellow cyber Americans:

Over the course of my stewardship, Tower of Hubris has gone from a mere e-whim to the veritable online fountain of urbane humor and poignant social commentary that we all know and disinterestedly skim today. I've proposed sweeping reform, such as my influential Hey-Ladies-Stop-Kicking-Me-In-The-Balls program. And I've taken on the fat-cats in Washington. I refer, of course, to the extremely overweight felines belonging to Ms. Carly Jarett in Spokane, WA--screw you, Poofy and Snippers!

Now there are some out there who think I don't post often enough, and there are those who think this site would be more interesting if employed a "sense" of "humor". And yes, there are those who think I use the word 'douchebag' too much. Well I am here to tell you, Mr. and Mrs. Workday Procrastinator, that I have not yet begun to write half-assed stand up bits, completely arbitrary comedic lists, and awkwardly phrased social ranting. Those who oppose me? A bunch of douchebags.

God bless me. God bless Tower of Hubris. And God bless America (or certain parts of it, at least).

(NOTE: While reading this, please stand up and applaud in between each and every sentence. Thanks, folks!)

Monday, January 19, 2004


Goebbelstown, Virginia

Semen Burp, Wisconsin

Cerebralpalsyford, North Dakota

Orphan City, Iowa

Nutstink, Texas

Junkies Hollow, Massachusetts

Rapist Valley, Oregon

Tainted Water Supply, Ohio

North Stretchmark, Alabama

Cuntchester, Maryland

Al Qaeda, Tennessee

Unwanted Pregnancy Creek, Michigan

San Douche, New Mexico

Albany, New York

Olde Rapist Valley, Oregon

Saturday, January 17, 2004


I think I speak for the whole world when I say...


Thursday, January 15, 2004


A year ago tonight, I had my first date with the lovely Ms. Kambri. Remarkably, she has been kind enough to let me refer to myself as her boyfriend ever since. I'm not going blather on in this public forum about how much I love her (a lot), but I thought the date worth noting.

Tonight, she and I will be gorging ourselves on very juicy and very expensive steaks. And then, we will take a cab back to her apartment and commece with "doing it". And then, I will drift off into a meat coma. ...And so will she, if you know what I mean!! AM I RIGHT, FELLAS?!!

(I have no idea what I mean.)

Tuesday, January 13, 2004


So the reason I haven't been posting much over the past week or so is, I was recently hired as a writer on a television show. Which television show, you ask? Well, it was one of the following--see if you can guess!

QSI (This is a show where five fabulous gay men makeover drab crime scenes)
Nazi Memorabilia Roadshow
According to Joe Piscopo
Celebrity Wet Fart Hour with Arthel Neville
Name That Douchebag
I'm Relatively Indifferent to Lucy
Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn
QSI Miami

If you guessed "Tough Crowd", give yourself ten points. Anyway, getting this job is a really great thing for me and I'm really excited for the opportunity. But as you can imagine, my first week (I officially started this past Wednesday) has been a teensy bit overwhelming. Not just the actual work, but reacquainting myself with office life, although this is hardlty the typical "office". I've never worked an office job I haven't hated, so it's hard to get used to the fact that I actually enjoy being here. It's creepy. Hopefully I'll make it past my 4-week trial period. But if not, I'll probably get lots of juicy I-got-an-opportunity-to-work-in-my-chosen-field-and-I-blew-it-so-I-must-be-some-kind-of-asshole material. Cross your fingers!

By the way, in case you've never heard of it, "Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn" airs on Comedy Central every weeknight at 11:30pm. If you like the show, cool. And if you don't, that's cool, too. But I definitely don't want to turn the TOH comments box into some sort of de facto "Tough Crowd" message board. Like it or not, this website is all about me. ME, MUTHAFUCKA! So if you have any passionate thoughts about the show, feel free to drop me an Email or three. I think I have something airing on tomorrow night's (Wednesday's) show, but I won't know for sure until tomorrow morning.

Oh, and I'll get back to posting on a more regular basis once I get a bit more "in the flow" of things here. Until then, thanks for being patient.

Um, that's all.


Saturday, January 10, 2004


THE GRADUATE -- Thirty years, two wives and four kids later, I'm still not 'square'. Seriously.

SLAP SHOT -- I love sports and might actually still participate in them, if not for my far greater love of beer and sleep.

RASHOMAN -- Please, ask my about my thesis!

GONE WITH THE WIND -- I long for a world where all of my decisions are made for me.

GOODFELLAS -- My 'hot date' outfit is a tracksuit.

LIKE WATER FOR CHOCOLATE -- On my dorm room wall, I have a poster of a man and woman kissing tenderly on a Parisian street.

JACKASS: THE MOVIE -- On my dorm wall, I have a poster of two women in American flag bikinis hand-washing a Ferarri.

BABE -- On my cubicle wall, I have a poster of a kitten dangling from a tree branch. Hang in there, baby!

THE ROAD WARRIOR -- Screw what everyone else says--leather chaps are not gay!

CITIZEN KANE -- I've seen Citizen Kane.

THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE (original) -- I'm snobbish and elitist about things any normal adult would be embarrassed by.

THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE (remake) -- Jessica Biel is so fucking hot.

AMERICAN MOVIE -- My wry comments and perpetual smirk mask the crippling fear that I may be hollow inside.

200 MOTELS -- I smell very, very bad.

LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING -- Fgnaworngw rgnrninin rgojojojwg. Wpkpkwe’kfl df epkpajkefpkf, aefpkpkp oefpkpk wefpkpsskpaef! Aepfkpkpkae!! Fhaakjpkpkaef pkpkspakf kpkerf afihiae fvbxfgi, sgpujopjsvg sdojpojopjgv fgnaworngw. Rgnrninin rglojojoqjwg wpkpkwe’kfl; uoff epkpajkefpkf aefpkpkp! Fjkhllh!!! ...What? Oh, I'm sorry--I assumed you spoke Elvish.

SOMETHING'S GOT TO GIVE -- Older women are sexy! Older women are sexy! No, I am not listening to you! I am not listening!! I'm sticking my fingers in my ears! LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!!!!!!

BEHIND THE GREEN DOOR -- I don't masturbate. I "masturbate".

LADYHAWKE -- You speak Elvish, too? Wow! My name is Katie, but people call me Shadowmyst.

Friday, January 09, 2004


What can I say, folks--it's been an ungodly busy week. Sorry about the lack of hilarity. I will try to write something worthwhile in the morning, but I honestly can't make any promises. I'll explain myself and make amends sometime in the next few days.

Just a reminder, though: I rule. You drool.

Try not to forget it.

Wednesday, January 07, 2004


A couple of days ago, I went in to record a short little voiceover thing for a feature film a friend of mine is directing. It's about a radio call-in show and he needed me (and a few other people) to be the callers. So I went in to the booth and laid down what I thought was the vocal smackdown. Well, I just got an Email from him thanking me for my work and letting me know that my work was great because "it had that creepy 'is this guy gay' quality to it."


I will state for the record that no way was I attempting to affect a 'gay' voice. Nope, that's just me.


Tuesday, January 06, 2004


Clear off an hour or so on your schedule today and behold the majesty of "Whack-an-Oates".

My high score? A rather unbelievable 250. But that was just a freak occurrence--most of my scores were in the 100-125 range. A good strategy? Keep your eyes peeled for Adam Ant and resist the lure of Morris Day.

Sunday, January 04, 2004


One Night with Bronson Pinchot

142nd Street

Starlight Express II:
More Douchebags Rollerskating

Restraining Order!

Les Muffdiverables

Over the Top:
The Musical

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamthong

Smelt It, Dealt It

Thoroughly Syphilitic Millie


Anything Goes (Other Than Ass-Play)

Jesus Christ Relatively Obscure Character Actor

On the Rag!

A Bunch of Gay Guys Pretending to be in Love with a Bunch of Annoyingly Cheery Women

Guys and Blow-Up Dolls

Friday, January 02, 2004


You know, they say the best part of waking up, no.

What is the deal with....fuck.

If I was president, I'd make it illegal, that's not funny, either.

The thing about Ben Affleck, I've got nothing.

So I saw that new reality show...and,, why do I bother?

The best thing about Ramadan, this is so weak.

You know, a weird thing happened to me yesterday at the gay bath house...I should really consider a career in flower delivery.

Orange Alert? More like...I hate myself.

This is going to be the best year ever! Whoooooooooo!!!!!!!