Oh, yellow man. Oh, yellow man. We understand, you know we understand. He keeps his money tight in his hand. With his yellow woman he's a yellow man. Got to have a yellow woman when you're a yellow man. - Randy Newman buy it for uncle poon's!

Remember That Nike Jet Fiasco? This is where you insert your own Krusty the Clown defeated grown. Yes, folks, I have once again gone into - and come out of - hibernation. My stories are iced cold coffee, my outlook on life is drearier than ever and my rash still hasn't gone away, but the good news is that my jokes still suck ass. Jokes?

Family In Iraq Regretting Their Decision To Buy That Sand-Colored Hummer. But they are dying with the Joneses. http://news.yahoo.com/fc/world/iraq

Always Perps In The Toy Aisle. Always. Child Molester lets it all hang out in the toy department of Wal-Mart. http://www.whns.com/Global/story.asp?S=4143888

2005's Hot Toy List! Toys you just have to buy your niece or nephew. http://www.toysafety.org/worstToyList_index.html

Today's Blig Brought To You By: Paul's Message. Not to be confused with Grandmaster Flash's. http://www.toysafety.org/pdf/paulsMessage.pdf

Furman Student Spent His Thanksgiving Regretting a Bet He Made. The sophmore student rode his Segway across South Carolina to raise money for disabled people who will never get the chance to ride a Segway across the Palmetto State at a blistering rate of 11 mph. Yep, instead of standing up and going slower than a Zamboni (no shit), they'll have to sit down and ride a Rascal or Jazzy or something like that across our state. A thought that no doubt helped the do-gooder come to this conclusion: "Katrina (relief) is good and everything," Hammond said. "But keep the home fires burning." Wasn't that an Alabama song? An awesome Alabama song? http://www.wyff4.com/news/5374811/detail.html

In Realted Rascal News: Rascal Scooters Accused Of Dirty Business. An attorney for the New Jersey-based company said it doesn't exploit, mislead or coerce its customer base. At which point everyone in the room burst into uncontrollable laughter, well, except for the few Rascal customers on hand; they passed away. http://www.wyff4.com/money/5372115/detail.html

In Related Awesome Country Music News: What the fuck is up with that new McDawltry Gentrified song they keep playing? I hit the scan button on my car stereo the other day and stumbled upon this lyric, sung in what I hope was an affected twang: And pickin' up tha Sunday Times. I hit the scan button to stop the dial as fast as possible. Indeed, I landed on a winner. The lyircs that followed made that one gem of a line seem even more like a black man in a Subaru, which was no easy task seeing as how "Sunday Times" was delivered from Cleetus himself. The lyrics in all their glory and entirety:

Raymond's in his Sunday best, he's usually up to his chest in oil an' grease.There's the Martin's walkin' in, with that mean little freckle-faced kid, who broke a window last week. Sweet Miss Betty likes to sing off key in the pew behind me.

That's what I love about Sunday: sing along as the choir sways; every verse of Amazin' Grace, an' then we shake the Preacher's hand. Go home, into your blue jeans; have some chicken an' some baked beans. Pick a back yard football team, nothin' much of anything: That's what I love about Sunday.

I stroll to the end of the drive, pick up the Sunday Times, grab my coffee cup. It looks like Sally an' Ron, finally tied the knot, well, it's about time. It's 35 cents off a ground round. Baby, cut that coupon out! That's what I love about Sunday: Cat-napping on the porch swing; you curled up next to me, the smell of jasmine wakes us up. Take a walk down a back road, tackle box and a cane pole; carve our names in that white oak, an' steal a kiss as the sun fades, that's what I love about Sunday, oh, yeah.

Ooh, new believers gettin' baptized, momma's hands raised up high, havin' a Hallelujah good time, a smile on everybody's face. That's what I love about Sunday, oh, yeah. That's what I love about Sunday, oh, yeah.

Okay. Let's think about this for a sec. The guy, the one luvin Sundays, is Craig Morgan. Craig is a god-fearin', m'am-sayin', tobacco-chewin', cane-pole-ownin', ground-round-eatin' Southern gent. Yet Craig gets home delivery of the Sunday Times? He must have taken out a second mortgage on his trailer. Plus, the last time I read the Sunday Times, I didn't find many stories that praised God. Or many coupons for ground round. Somebody get Craig an editor. Or the Banjo Minnow.

New CPR Guidelines Emphasize Digging Graves Between Breaths. http://www.forbes.com/lifestyle/health/feeds/hscout/2005/11/28/hscout529366.html

Canadian Girl Dies After Felating Mr. Peanut. But I could be wrong. I didn't read the story. http://www.nydailynews.com/front/story/370028p-314687c.html

Money Doesn't Buy Everything. But it was enough to buy this Kentucky couple a very funny, disturbing story. I Know George Washington, and you're no George Washington . . . http://edition.cnn.com/2005/US/11/26/powerball.death.ap/

Virginia Metcalf Merida's son discovered her body Wednesday. Police were awaiting autopsy and toxicology results before announcing a cause of death. When the woman and her husband, Mack Wayne Metcalf, won the jackpot, they told lottery officials they were going their separate ways to fulfill their dreams.

Merida planned to quit her job making corrugated boxes and buy a home. Metcalf, a forklift operator, wanted to start fresh in Australia. He never did.

Metcalf died in 2003 at age 45 while living in a replica of George Washington's Mount Vernon estate built in Corbin, Kentucky. His death followed multiple run-ins with the law, including a child-support dispute from a previous marriage and a drunken-driving charge filed before he hit the jackpot.

Thode trades her Yellow Tail for "A Night With Chad Rucker" at the EP gift exchange. Much to the chagrin of Cvammen.