In my attempt to have the most successful blog possible, I've done a lot of research, all of which has lead me to believe that one of the many keys to popular blogging is overly sentimental photography. It is for this reason that I introduce to you my Nephew, Micheal Francis, to jumpstart my proud new photography focus on the site. All photography featured here will eventually be pictured in the pictures section, as well, which I plan to revitalize quite a bit.

Here's to the beautiful futures of my nephew, this blog, and those obnoxious people who oooh and aaah over baby-related photography. My new best friends.

On with it.

Ryan needs fresh blood.

The above link leads to what I find to be a hilarious conversation between me and my friend Ryan, the Plasma Donor. In it, you will read in-depth description of the vampiric world of plasma-donating, most of which I think (or hope) is pure bullshit. Still, his desperation is both tragic and funny, so it makes for a good read, if you've got nothing better to do.

As per our agreement in the conversation, I will be adding Ryan's site to the "people" section in exchange for him putting a link to my site on his. I like to think of this arrangement as being a little less questionable than the plasma-related ones, and I'm trying to increase traffic as of late, so if anyone else would like to exchange links, please e-mail me. And once again, mention this deal in your subject line so it doesn't get lost in a sea of spam.

And once again, my favorite spam subject line of the week (even though I'm fully aware it hasn't been a week since the first one): Simply stated, "SEX WITH ANIMALS!" What does it advertise? Well, there's only a link in the e-mail reading "click here" with no context other than the subject line, so one can only assume. Point being, I haven't been there yet. I mean, I haven't been there. Yet. I mean...


On an unrelated note, I transcribed the lyrics to Chonky, but as of yet, Andy Milonakis has not e-mailed me back his list of corrections. My suspicion is that I am being punished for making fun of how quickly he responded last time, as in his last e-mail he said, quote, "Writing, editting videos, working on my website, looking at porn. All of those important things are done on my computer. Next time, I'll take longer to reply. SMOOCHES." I assumed the use of the word "SMOOCHES" implied that he wasn't really angry, but perhaps I was wrong. To this I say: It's been longer then twelve minutes now, Andy! You can go ahead and reply! It's for the good of our collective fans!!

If what you want, Andy Milonakis, in exchange for the corrected lyrics is some sort of massive sacrifice of dignity on my part, name your price. Do you want begging? Ass-kissing? Pictures of me making out with supermodel Paige Butcher (featured cover model of this Month's Maxim)? Just name the time and give me her address-- I am willing to go that far for the integrity of my "journalism". Or for any other reason that you can think of.


...please think of a reason...



...please?...





...on with it...

Quick! There's still time to sign this petition accusing wal*mart of doing things that are perfectly legal!

The link I have just posted leads to a petition on "e-thepeople.org", a charming little pun if I ever read one, that's asking the federal trade commission to investigate that the Wal*Mart Corporation:

-May be *intentionally* locating stores in low-income area, thusly establishing a market for themself.
-May be using-- gasp!-- marketing strategies to convince people to buy things they don't nessecarily need.
-May actually be trying to make a profit!

The petition also suggests that Wal*Mart may be encouraging it's manufacturers to make low-quality products that break easily so that people will have to continuously buy replacements. Oh, no. You buy a motherfucking coffee maker for five dollars and it breaks-- shocker! Most of these things come with a warranty, brilliance, it's just that you didn't keep it! Why? BECAUSE THE DAMN THING ONLY COST FIVE BUCKS TO BEGIN WITH.

Another example of a viscious cycle eating away soceity's moral: There's a Wal*Mart opening in your community. Your community is a low-income community. The people in your community are low-income because they don't make a lot of money. They don't make a lot of money because they're uneducated, or maybe because they're just plain stupid. I don't want to be cruel, but a pretty good percentage of the time, it's the latter. So, being the kind of people that they are, they think "Wow, five pairs of panty hose for ninety-nine cents? Boy-howdy. Too bad I don't have a skirt. Hey! Skirts are only 5 dollars! Too bad I don't have a vagina-- Hey! Sex Changes are only a hundred bucks! Wal*Mart really *does* have everything!" Thusly, Wal*Mart has reason to open in your damn community.

I'd like to be more sensitive, but my policy is pretty much this: Our population is too large to be conducive to genuine equality. There aren't enough resources for all of us, and thusly, some of us thrive and some of us fall. I don't like it any better than you do, because we're all born, in a way, equal. Some of us are born with superior DNA *insert winning smile here*, and some of us like country music. Either way, it was all supposed to be part of the plan. Natural Selection. This is the stuff that Darwin was talking about. Then that Jesus Feller got all involved and glorified human life, and got us all working to save one another. Now, a kerchillion years later, things aren't working out too well. Some of us are starving, some of us are eating, and some of us are working the night shift at Wal*Mart. That's all Wal*Mart's really doing, anyway, is giving us a special place for those of us who have no genetic right to be here. (And yet, they sign the petition.)

And who started this mess? I'm looking in your direction, Jesus.



Right now, I can actually *feel* the alienation of dozens of my newest visitors. You know that wheazy feeling of swallowing too much chlorine? It's kinda like that!

Christians, etc.-- Don't take me too seriously, it's not that I don't like Jesus. He's God's son, and God's done plenty of good things. And, for that matter, plenty of great things. And....ah, man, where was I? I got distracted by the idea of those two having sex...

Yay God!


On with it.

I am posting a retraction of the statement I made last night, a misunderstanding I've help for quite a while. But why should I write about it when everybody's favorite internet-based junior rapper already has:

"Hey, Since you sent me your website I checked it out. Saw that you
posted the lyrics. Just one correction, I'm not the Man Show Boy. I work on
Jimmy Kimmel Live as a correspondant and I got the job from my retarded
website videos (The Superbowl Is Gay) video to be exact."

Once again, that's from Andy Milonakis.


This has got me all tingly. I recently bought some advertising space on Wil Wheaton's site, and I guess he had to approve it before he put it up, so he's probably been here. That makes two second-rate celebrities who have been to my blog in the past couple of weeks-- rapture! Truly, this is the way dreams come true.

...Which doesn't speak highly of my dreams, now that I come to think of it. Ah well. I'm still getting way more hits than Casey.

On with it.

Here's a fun little service budweiser is offering. Check it out if you've got time to waste...which, let's face it, you do.

Oh, but if you're new here, check out this site first. Because I'm so sweet and lovable...okay, alright, because I'm so meek and desperate. Happy now?

On with it.

So I'm always pretty interested in finding out where my hits come from, and lately when I've checked, I've gotten more than my fair share of people looking for Andy Milonakis lyrics. Three or four people a day have been coming here looking for them, but their was one tiny, little, Gary Coleman-sized problem: I didn't actually feature them-- there was one post a while back with like two lines from "Crispy New Freestyle", but nothing else. Still, I didn't want to go and disappoint these people: after all, potential readers for this site are about as easy to come by as undoctored naked pictures of TV's Frankie Muniz....uh, just trust me. So I took it upon myself to search online to find lyrics I could link to, and found that, surprise surprise, there's absolutely no where to get these things, which explains the outpouring of tired, weak, huddled masses yearning to...read senseless lyrics as writtien by the Man Show Boy. All right, so it's not exactly the American Dream, but if it's what the Google-searchers want, it's what the google-searchers get. I decided to do it myself.

Big mistake.

I thought it'd be pretty easy, and started out with the most popular search, "Crispy New Freestyle." Within the five three lines there were about six things I could not make out for the life of me. This, incidentally, is pretty much what rap is to me. Fifty Cent could be rapping about ducky whores, and I just would not know.

So I e-mail the man (show boy) himself:



From: Linda H.
To: andym@angrynakedpat.com
Subject: Your Lyrics
Date: Mon 02/09/04 09:19 PM


Dear Andy-

I run a weblog at www.SuedeCaramel.com, and once, a few months ago, I
mentioned you and transcribed some of the lyrics to "crispy new
freestyle."-- just the first few lines to give my readers a taste of
what they can expect of your work. Since then, however, my site has
been getting hit after hit of people searching for your lyrics on the
web. Apparently, nobody has wanted to go through the trouble of
transcribing your lyrics, so they aren't available, and a large amount
of desperate people have been hoping they're at my site.

Here are my questions to you--
1) Is there a place on the internet where your lyrics are available, to
your knowledge?
2) Do you plan on making them available in the future on your site?
3) If not, might I transcribe the lyrics of some of the more popular
songs and put them on my site so that your fans will have a place to go
for them?
4) If I may, will there be a chance of my being able to asking you to
identify the lyrics I just can't quite make out, if you happen to
remember them?

Thank you for your time.

Your fan,
Linda H.



And I get an e-mail back.



From: "Andy Milonakis"
To: suedecaramel@dog.com
Subject: Re: Your Lyrics
Date: Mon 02/09/04 09:31 PM


Hey, I forget what website it was but someone transcribed the Crispy
lyrics and I corrected them and sent them back........so here are they are. I
don't have any other freestyles transcribed but if you need help with more
lyrics let me know, I'll fix errors and stuff for you if you write them down.



Note the time on these things-- 9:19 pm and 9:31 pm. 12 minutes. For a celebrity (of sorts), this guy doesn't have a lot to do, apparently, but it was pretty cool of his to send me the Crispy Lyrics, which I've put in the Guest Writer's Section until I have time to put up a new section just for his stuff. My intention at this point is to transcribe one or two of his "songs" a week and get his corrections, then put them up here. But I don't know which ones to do, exactly, so if you have any requests, please e-mail them to SuedeCaramel@dog.com, and make sure you put his name in the subject line, because I am having a bitch of a time navigating through the junk mail recently, thanks to MyDoom. Incidentally, my favorite spam subject line of the week is, and I quote, "sudan adrenaline dogfish flowerpot affricate carlin spaniard biography motley sequitur chronograph ", as sent from someone advertising some shady place where you can get a degree without actually having to have done any schoolwork. Like Notre Dame. (If you're as interested as I am, here's the 24-hour number: 1-646-304-8069)

In addition to putting up the lyrics, I'm also adding Andy's Website, Angry Naked Pat, to the Places list. It's my way of saying "Thank you, Andy." I hope I can give him as much traffic as he gives me.

Because that would mean I was getting a lot more than I am. On with it.

A viscious cycle: Companies hire big-name actors to do their commercials. Big-name actors sign contract to do these commercials and, simultaneously, they instantly become washed up. Companies end up with washed-up actors to do their commercials, and consumers end up getting James Earl Jones pretending to be the one who's doing the fancy dance moves as he tells us about the Verizon freedom package. And there ain't no stopping this, now.

This is the mistake the big-name telephone companies all seem to simultaneously be making today, U.S. Cellular with Joan Cusack, MCI with Danny Glover, and T Mobile with Catherine Zeta-Jones (who is far too hot to be stooping this low, am I right?). Two ways I see around this-- ING's blatant acknowledgement of the situation was a wild success in my mind, if you know the commercial I'm talking about: A man and a woman in the park, the woman sitting on a bench that read 'ING Direct'. The man, standing, asks the seated woman, "What's that?" and she proceeds to explain, "ING? It's a stock trading agency...(etc.)" To this, the man replies, "No, I know what ING is, what's that?" and points beyond her to a man at a table arm-wrestling some other guy. The woman looks and replies, "An affordable celebrity." At first, I found this rather confusing, but once my mom explained to me that the man was Lee Majors...I was still confused. But once she explained that he was in "The Six Million Dollar Man"...and then explained that "The Six Million Dollar Man" was a popular TV show from the seventies, then I began to see the genius of it.

Alright, I can see I've underminded my point somewhat, but I don't think my age group is ING's target demographic.

Still, not every company can go around all willy-nilly acknowledging things like that...heaven forbid a dangerous trend like truth in advertising should break out. ("Nike: We can't make you run any faster, but at least we're giving good jobs to thousands of asian 9-year-olds.") So my nominee for the best solution to the washed-up actor dilemma is this: breath new life into the career of a long-forgotten (but still sexy) celebrity. I'm talking, of course, about 10-10-987 and the gift they've given the women of America in bringing John Stamos back on the air. We all know Uncle Jesse is long-dead, but the loving messages he dispensed to us every Tuesday at Eight live on within our hearts: messages that help us to overcome sibling rivalries, petty disputes, and the prejudice that mullets cannot be hot. (Because he made it work, baby.)

Now a more mature John Stamos is walking into our lives, bursting into our homes to ask us if we're satisfied with our long-distance service and filming commercials during our weddings, and I gotta tell you, my telephone isn't the only thing I'm dialing a little more often.

It's this kind of brilliance in advertising that gives me hope-- because, let's face it, that's what commercials are all about. They sell us hope, even when they do not succeed in selling us dish detergent. Hope that our clothes can be just a little whiter. Hope that our bills can be just a little lower. Hope that James Earl Jones can do a jazzy dance spin on his head despite being an old, broken man. Hope, in summation, for a better, cheaper tomorrow.

On with it.