Let the weekend begin.

(Before you get into to it, yes, this is one of those, "What's up with us on the blog" posts. So if you're bored by this sort of thing, scroll down a few posts and check out the news about Tyra Banks breasts. Word on the street is that they're real!

...You have no idea how much the words "Tyra Banks' breasts" drive up the search engine hits on this site.)

It's late Friday and things are warming down for the weekend a bit, though I intend to have a few bits up over the next two days (Not my "personal bits", just in case you thought to ask.)

Stew continues his quest to see how many variations on Saddam Hussein in his underwear we can actually get away with. Answer: An infinite amount...not just because it's amusing to see a vicious dictator prancing about in his skivves like an Oh Calcutta cast member who couldn't bring himself to go all the way, but because it's our blog and we can do whatever the hell we want to do. Fart. See, I can type that and the FCC won't do a thing. (No, Zimpter, this doesn't mean you can do your photo essay on your stint as a Laker Girls shower repairman.)

Juan Carlos is still missing, presumed biking for health. Although, if he's been biking for one month straight, he's probably withered away to skin, bones, and dark, stylish facial hair. Biking for one month straight...He's like Forrest Gump on wheels, only with empenadas in his knapsack instead of a six pack of RC Cola and a Tupperware container full of shrimp gumbo.

Zimpter? Who knows? The man is a mystery, working his TV gigs, exchanging meaningful networking nods and pointing (The point with the hand slightly down means, "Let's do lunch!" The point with the finger straight and a smile means, "Congratulations on that Emmy Bill Shatner!" The point with the middle finger straight up means Bill doesn't like you pointing at him.)

So, all is quiet in DOUI land. On a serious note, our thoughts and prayers are with those faced Hurricane Rita right now. Take heart. The great thing about people is that, no matter what they go through, most of them always find a way to laugh again.

We plan on helping, if we can.

Yes, that was incredibly sappy. Blame it on the Moosehead and lack of sleep. Cheers.