Sunday, September 30, 2007


I ordered food from Jesus' Taco today. The food lived up to the name of its origin.
"...blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven" - Matthew 12:31
My digestive system must have committed this unforgivable sin about an hour after I ate the burrito and quesadillas. I deduce this because from my backside flew piles and piles of dark "unforgiveness."

At first, right after I ate my meal, I thought that I wouldn't be able to fit into the pants for at least a week. But considering how much I shat, I think the pants may actually be too big.

So, stay calm, babes.

Saturday, September 29, 2007


I see car commercials, and I'm thankful that I don't have a car.

I see lawn care commercials, and I'm thankful that I'm not a jack ass who gives a damn what his grass looks like.

I see life insurance commercials, and somehow I'm thankful that I don't have some naggy, average wife bitching at me about money.

I see Summer's Eve commercials, and I'm thankful for Little Elvis.

Friday, September 28, 2007


Excited about getting A Day at the Races
I learned to tie my shoes when I was 8.
I learned where babies come from when I was 12.
I had every Queen album by the time I was 13.

Which of these should embarrass me the most, and why?

Thursday, September 27, 2007

On the Contrary, I Should Be Proud

I was asleep, and then my phone rang, waking me up. I noticed I had a huge chub. For some reason I was afraid to answer the phone because I assume that the caller knew this information. I am embarrassed by this.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

A Mother...With Children

I was told I remind some friends of this person...

My friends suck.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

"O, Cloudy Sky"

"Subterranean Homesick Blues" by Bob Dylan
"O, Cloudy Sky" by Hannah Cranford

Monday, September 24, 2007

Paper Bags?

Damn Erlers.
Well, it looks as if the Oilers are going to beat the Saints. I thought K-Ville meant something. Congrats to Warren Moon and the gang. Electric slide all the way back to the House of Pain.

I won't go so far as to wear a paper bag on my head for the rest of this dismal season. But I will wear paper bags as underwear.

Monday Night Football's crew is great, but I totally wish it was just Kornheiser and Wilbon in the booth. "Oh, here you go, Wilbon. Ya boy, Olindo Mare, who's a missed extra point away from sitting on a love seat with Chuck Lohmiller and an urn containing the remains of George Blanda--who, by the way, was always an underrated quarterback and may actually still be alive--is lining up for a 47-yarder. He'll make this the day my hair starts falling out on Bandstand."

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Sunny Weathers and Why He Will Burn in Hell

Still fuming over the Jena 6-on-1 and expressing it with Dana Gould's jokes.
Sunny Weathers wins the award for 2007 Bone-Chillingly Tasteless Sports-Related Text Message of the Year. The text messages (that's right--there were two):
"The South Carolina quarterback is white. Does that make the LSU defensive line the Jena 6?"
That was at about 3pm. At about 9pm, when Alabama benefitted from a bad call against Georgia, I texted Sunny, "God, I hate Alabama," to which the hellbound Mr. Weathers replied:
"Where's a Marshall airplane when you need it?"
This one sent chills up my spine, and it was so offensive that somewhere, 1000 miles away, Matthew McConaughy got severe cottonmouth--and he wasn't even high.

Congratulations, Sunny. You are one sick bastard.

Note: This entire blog was copied verbatim from the jokes of Dana Gould. I have never met Ms. Gould, but I'm sure she is very funny.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Baggage (a dialogue)

Hey, Adam.
Hey, Kiss.
I saw that you friended me on MySpace.
Yeah, thanks for the add.
No problem. I'm glad that we're friends, Adam Wilson.
I noticed on your profile, you listed your body type as "a little extra baggage." You weigh like 115--do you seriously think you have "a little extra baggage?"
I meant the emotional kind.

Friday, September 21, 2007

For the Ladies

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Pepsi Jazz

Good. Yes, good.
I was on the way home last night. When the dream came, I held my breath with my eyes closed. I went insane like a smoke ring day when the wind blows. Now I won't be back till later on, if I do come back at all.

Sorry about the obscure Buffalo Springfield reference. No more.

Before I got home, I called Uyetake, who used to live in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. The lights turned on and the curtain fell down, and when it was over it felt like a dream.

Ok, seriously. No more. And by "no more," I mean "one more" because comedy of threes is king.

So Uyetake asked me, "You used to live in Louisiana. Why did you leave?" I said, "Go away to stay. Get out of my life. You've been my wife. I've been a Jew."

And, there.

I dropped into a grocery store and bought a bottle of Pepsi Jazz Caramel Cream zero-calorie soda. I bought it as if it were a dare, like if I saw a chewed-up stick of gum with a bloody dead rat and a few maggots attached to it, and somebody dared me to eat it.

Well, I tried it, and it was good. And since there are no calories in it, I am still thin.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Ding Dong

Adam Wilson is a (bell rings, humorously drowning out the utterance of the word "nigger.")!
I was on a date with a girl a while back, and she said--get this--:
Adam, I don't get it. You're from Louisiana, but you're actually really smart. How could you come from there and be as smart as you are?
I now honestly can feign being qualified to speak as a black American who has undergone harsh racial persecution.

If you're going to Jena to protest tomorrow, just know the the rest of the Jena 7 and I appreciate everything you've done for us.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

College Football.

I've started a college football rankings blog, and nobody likes my rankings this week. Well, nobody should like them because it's only week three. Well, here's my top xiv. I hope y'all don't compare me to Tommy Santora.


Monday, September 17, 2007


Has always made me wet myself; will always make me wet myself.
I had a nightmare about somebody last night.

Remember the really bad, 2nd King Kong from 1976 where when Charles Grodin's posse took Kong from his island in the South Pacific (apparently even in 1976 we thought there were gorillas in the South Pacific), and then Jeff Bridges says something like, "Look what you've done to the natives, Charles Grodin. You've taken away their only reason to live. Sure, they fear Kong, and sure, he can kill them all, but he was all they had. In two weeks these people will be nothing but a bunch of fat drunk bored sonofabitches," or something like that. It was kind of like that when Spurrier was coaching the Washington NFL club (the one with the racist name). We SEC fans had no one to fear.

Now he's back. And though urine soaks my tighty whiteys and hardwood floors thanks to my subconscious encounter with him last night, I feel alive.

I have predicted the score of this week's game between South Carolina and Louisiana State:


Sunday, September 16, 2007

We're Home

There was a Gilligan's Island movie once, and the castaways somehow were discovered and brought back to civilization. The castaways found out, however, that being where they'd always dreamed of being wasn't all it was cracked up to be. The Professor's theories were ridiculed; Mary Ann's family's farm was sold; Ginger was asked to do a nude scene in a movie; The Howells couldn't keep their millions "honestly"; nobody needs a skipper and first mate.

They decided to hang out on the Howells' boat and catch up; by now they hadn't seen each other for weeks. Sure enough, a huge storm kicks up, and the new Minnow was shipwrecked on an island. And of course they landed right next to a piece of the old Minnow, so they'd been shipwrecked to the same island. They were upset and confused for a minute, but then the Skipper said, "Wait a minute, guys--we're home!"

It's kind of like the Saints. Last year they kicked all kinds of ass, but something about it just wasn't right. The Saints are 0-2, and they look horrible.

We're home.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

My Generation

I've never met a man with a stuttering problem and not thought, "He's faking it."

Friday, September 14, 2007


Are you feeling sad? Depressed? Here's an idea. Take the most expensive thing you own, and torch it. You have too much stuff.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Emotionally Abusing Your Jack Russell (a dialogue)

(picks up phone and uses "phone voice") Hello?
Hey, KT. It's me, Adam.
Hey! I haven't heard from you since the Autobot's wedding.
Yeah, well, I've been busy. We should talk more, you know.
Yeah, really. I can't believe we've been friends for 15 years now.
You know, that really is a long, long time.
So I, hold on. (to Carnaby, the dog) Carnaby, be good. Stop. No. Bad. Bad dog. (to Adam) Sorry, Carnaby wants some attention or something.
So kick him.
Adam, that's horrible.
Ok. Sorry. Then put on a Michael Vick mask.
Adam, that's worse.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007


In xxxix days I will be x (10,000) days old. I want to celebrate. How should I do that?

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Taking Down the Freak Flag (That Means Getting a Haircut)

It must have been a sad sight for the commoners to see...a white man, losing his hair at the age of xxvii, looking for a barber shop in Harlem.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Remembering 9/10

Two-thirds of the way there.
Today is September 10.

A year ago today, I watched The Simpsons season premier.

Ehh, we'll take it.

Two years ago today, I watched LSU beat Arizona State in Tempe, thanks to a bad call in LSU's favor. Nice "catch," Early.

Three years ago today, I performed at Perks with The Family Dinner. I'll never forget that night.

Four years ago today, Jonathan Stokes and I debuted our Stokes/Wasiloski/Wilson-penned folk-rock hit "Three-way" at Richoux's at the Downtown Comedy District.

Five years ago today, I met Jonathan Harb. That's right--the Jonathan Harb!

Six years ago today, I skipped three friends' birthday parties and listened to Exile on Main St., if you know what I mean.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

Whores in the Night

On June 1, mcmlxxv, my dad went to the LSU Assembly Center (to be renamed after Pete Maravich xiii years later) to see the Rolling Stones open the Tour of the Americas (a misnomer since their shows in South America--Venezuela, to be precise--were cancelled). I recently found a bootlegged copy of that show.

This show is famous for being the first one featuring Ron Wood on lead guitar; Mick Taylor had recently "left" the band (a shame, too; his work on "Sway" changed my life when I first heard it in Summit County, Colorado, on January 13, mcmxcv).

Let me know if you'd like a copy of the bootleg; I'll direct you in the right direction.

Saturday, September 8, 2007


Today is 9/8/7. I will watch football. Geaux Tigers.

6/5/4 began with me and some friends dining at Denny's in Baton Rouge; we were celebrating my birthday (the day before) and a show I did with John Dardenne, Sunny Weathers, and Jeremy White.

On 3/2/1, I had "a cup of tea" for the first time. I drove around with some babes and listened to Tool. I thought, at the time, that Tool was amazing. The next day I called a buddy and borrowed his Tool cd's. It was that day that I made up my mind that Tool really sucks. They basically picked up where Rush, Genesis, and Emerson Lake & Palmer left off in terms of suck.

Friday, September 7, 2007

I Was Right and Wrong

Will go 15-1 in 2007. I guarantee it.
My score prediction from last night was right, except the exact opposite. God decided to play a little joke on me. Before the game, I sent out a mass text to some friends:
Who is the man who claims to be able to defeat the Saints?
I got a few funny replies:

Who dat, bitch?
-Wonky Chastened Pleb

Well played.
-Sugarlike Oddball Gem

Mike...not ditka, but the tiger!
-Joy Men Jeers

I do not know this man. I would ask who dat is?
-Halt Jaunty Horror

Cunty McSuckass?
-Degrade Worth Sewerage

Final score from last night:
Cunty McSuckassxli
New Orleansx

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Saints @ Colts


I guarantee the Saints will win tonight. (looking skyward) You hear that, God? Not even you can stop the Saints tonight!

Official prediction:
New Orleansxli