Ake's Pains debuted in the University of Akron Buchtelite in September of 1977. The school's reputation as an institute of higher learning has still not recovered. Ake's Pains returns after a brief 32 year hiatus. It's back, baby!

Monday, April 30, 2012

World Peace Threatens the World Peace!

Everything in the world was going fine (okay if you ignore Syria, North Korea, Iran, Afghanistan and several other countries which are too difficult to spell) and then the unthinkable happened.


I am not making this up.  It is the absolute truth:


A bit of clarification is in order.  Before the pro basketball season began, Ron Artest of the Los Angeles Lakers legally changed his name to “Metta World Peace”.  He did this either to promote love and harmony on the planet or because he is an attention whore.  He was having a very peaceful season until recently when during a game; he violently elbowed an opposing player in the head giving him a concussion. And therefore:


If you are going to carry the name of World Peace, your mission in life becomes to promote world peace everywhere and in everything you do.  And that includes when somebody tries to steal the basketball away from you.  If your name is World Peace, you absolutely cannot go around elbowing people in the head.

Because of this shocking incident, I believe there should be qualifications if you change your name to something of significance.  In this case, if you want the name “World Peace” you should have to prove you are fully committed to the cause.  That’s right; I would only give this name to a dope-smoking hippie. 

You would be required to have long hair, a headband and a beard.  But you would have to bathe at least once a week (difficult to promote World Peace is you smell offensive).  And you would have to pass a drug test.  Of course this drug test would be unique in that you would have to test positive for marijuana, the higher the content, the better.  This would prove you are a genuine hippie and it would also mean you are mellow enough to not elbow someone in the head.  And as you know this is important because:


I think as punishment World Peace should be forced to change his name to: “I Elbowed Someone in the Head”. This name would be more fitting and would serve as a deterrent in case you were tempted to elbow someone in the head.  This new name would be very cumbersome when filling out forms.  It would be awkward when introducing yourself to new people and it would be embarrassing when ordering pizza.

And he should be punished.  President Obama has worked very hard to establish world peace, except for in Syria, Iran, Afghanistan and those other unspellable places.  Now all this has all been ruined because:


What type of example do we set when we have World Peace getting all irritated and going off like a madman and elbowing someone in the head?  Do we really expect the tyrants in Darfur to respect us when we have this type of hijinks occurring? Come on America, we are so much better than that!

And now as a result of this incident something even worse has happened.  The NBA commissioner has suspended World Peace for seven games, which is about two weeks of time.  You read that correctly, please do not panic, but:

Now you know all types of hell are going to break loose around the world because of this.  We may not even have to wait for the Mayan calendar to expire before the apocalypse hits.

Because WORLD PEACE HAS ELBOWED SOMEONE IN THE HEAD, the following things have happened:

North Korea has threatened to give South Korea a noogie of “unprecedented and peculiar means”.

Iran is making plans to poke Israel in the eye.  

Even Switzerland is rumored to be considering kicking Austria square between the Alps

All this needless violence, just because:


Monday, April 16, 2012

Warning: Do Not Hold the Wrong End of the Chainsaw

A few days ago on my “Dumbest Things Every Said” daily calendar was this listing from a product warning label: “Warning: Do Not Hold the Wrong End of the Chainsaw”.  Yes, that is very dumb and it did cause me to chuckle. 

But then I started to think about those times in life that I held the wrong end of the chainsaw.  The situations when you think you are winning, but you are really losing.  When it looks as if everything is working out, but it’s really falling apart.  Of course you have no clue that you are holding the wrong end of the chainsaw.  You grasp it firmly until suddenly someone fires up the chainsaw with disastrous consequences.  That’s when life hurts really badly and you never knew what hit you.

Situations such as:

·       Finding out your wife is having an affair with: 

A.     Her Boss

B.     Your Business Partner

C.     Another Woman

D.     Your Priest

I have had friends and associates who have experienced all of the above.  All these guys were holding the wrong end of the chainsaw but never knew it.

 I had a friend who was part of a four-person finance department consisting of a male boss, two female co-workers and himself.  Even though he got along well with his boss and did superior work, he could never understand why he never got the choice assignments nor received adequate raises.  It was only after he left the job in frustration that he found out that the boss was sleeping with both women.  Every day at work he was “holding the wrong end of the chainsaw.”

It would be so much easier if life came with warning labels. 

Labels such as:

· “Warning: If You Eat This Left Over Chinese Food, You Will Get Food Poisoning” (Could have really used this one two years ago)

· “Warning: This guy seems wonderful, but he break your heart and grind it to dust”

· “Warning:  This great job offer includes free admission to ‘Corporate Hell’ ” 

And this brings me to the main topic of this blog post. Recently there was a big controversy because Jenna Talackova wanted to compete in the Miss Canada beauty pageant.  The problem is that TaLACKova did lack something.  That being a second “X” chromosome.  Contestants are supposed to be “naturally born females”, but Jenna used to be known as “Walter”.

Now you might think that Jenna would not have a chance in this contest until you see Jenna.  Dude just doesn’t look like a lady.  Dude looks like a smoking-hot beauty queen.  More importantly, remember Jenna is competing against Canadian women for Miss (or maybe now near-Miss) Canada.  Canadian women have evolved to provide warmth and comfort during cold Canadian nights and to clean fish and dress moose during the day.  This natural “ruggedness” provides great domestic benefits but not much success in beauty pageants.

This is all so weird because in most these cases (like athletics) there is a concern that a transgender has unfair “manly” advantages, but in this case Jenna may have unfair “womanly” advantages.  Jenna had hormone therapy at age 14 and then “Gender Reassignment Surgery” by what has to be the Michelangelo of this craft, because he produced a stunning piece of a, piece of a, piece of art.  I guess the female contestants could also have had “work” done.  I don’t know what the rules are here, but if Donald Trump wants to hire me as an apprentice to examine the contestants for authenticity, I am ready to serve. 

But my main concern is the guys that may encounter Jenna at a bar, a party, or wherever.  Yeah, they are going to be hitting on that.  And they are going to grabbing at many things, including the wrong end of the chainsaw.  So I think Jenna should be required to wear a warning label.  It doesn’t have to be visible to everyone, but should be strategically placed so that anyone who ventures there is clearly aware of what he is getting into.


Monday, April 2, 2012

Billie Jean’s Not My Problem

Recently I received a very disturbing phone call on my answering machine.  It was from a very despondent, young woman who was almost to the point of tears apparently because I would not pay for her birth control pills.

This in turn was very alarming to me because in the words of Bill Clinton: “I did not have sexual relations with that woman”.  Whoops, bad example. But honestly, I am not stuffin’ that muffin.

She sure was upset though, maybe she had the wrong number.  Maybe she heard the rumors about me and Snookie and is trying to cash in (Snookie).   But I don’t know her; never met her and we are not dating.  I will henceforth refer to her as Billie Jean.  Because Billy Jean’s not my lover, she just a girl that claims that I owe her some.

Rest assured that if Billy Jean was my paramour, I would pay for her birth control pills.  This is very rational.  No married man wants to turn his chicky-babe into a chicky-mama.  Oh no, I would buy the pills and not just cheap generics.  It would be high-quality, name brand stuff.  And it certainly wouldn’t be the brand they sell at Wal-Mart with the Flintstones on the bottle.  That brand has a photo of Wilma sporting a baby-bump with a circle-slash over it.

But as I said before, I am not involved in any dalliances with Billie Jean, Snookie or any other woman.  Heck, I am not even sleeping with a Kardashian.  I know that is difficult to believe and it puts me in the minority.  I’m sure I could if I wanted, but I am just too busy to do it.  I sure do hope that the Kardashians use high-quality contraceptives, because the last thing this world needs is more Kardashians.

Instead of calling me, I believe that Billie Jean should talk to her boyfriend and get him to pay for her pills.   Guys who refuse to do this are stupid and irresponsible. It’s just like at the amusement park where you have to buy a ticket to get on the ride.  The ticket helps pay for a safe, pleasant experience, without any unplanned consequences. They want you to stay happy even after you get off and go home.

Billie Jean told me that I should immediately call my congressman to help her get her contraceptives.   I have no idea why.  I really need to keep this thing on the down lowet and don’t want to involve the government.  I have heard that many politicians do have sex with younger women.  Billie Jean, if you are having sex with the congressman, then by all means, he should be buying the pills.  This is standard procedure.  I’m sure Bill Clinton has paid for more birth control than a small free clinic.  If you are calling to set up a threesome with the congressman, I am not into “that” as I think I made perfectly clear in a previous blog post (Comedy Club).

She also suggested that I call Rush Limbaugh and complain to him.  This is ridiculous.  Under no means am I going to discuss this on the radio before millions of listeners.  I am also not going to contact my bishop like she asked.  I don’t even have a bishop unless I am playing chess and I tend to lose those pieces first.  I am not going to tell any clergyman that a young woman is upset with me because I won’t buy her contraceptives lest he think that Billie Jean is my lover.

So if you are reading this Billie Jean, please, please, no more phone calls.  I do not want to explain to my wife why young women keep calling me about providing birth control pills for them. I don’t want to dance, or moonwalk, around this anymore.  And Snookie, please stop calling also.  It’s over; it’s time to move on.    

Billie Jean is not my lover
She's just a girl who claims that I owe her some
But the bill is not mine, son