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I could show you pictures of Brandenburg Gate, The Reichstag, or what’s left of the Berlin Wall, but you can look all that stuff up using the mighty power of the interweb. Instead, I’ll show you some wicked awesome stuff.

This hasty post was inspired by my friend who just wrote a post on Zombies vs. Vampire, check it out.

While I waited outside of the Skydome (aka Rogers Centre) yesterday to watch the Blue Jays face the division rival New York Yankees, I threw my hands up in the air (as I’m known to do sometimes) and I said, “A. O. Gotta let go,” and then I stated, with no shortage of gusto, “I wanna celebrate and live my life,” and then added, “A.O. Baby, let’s go.” A beat seemed to rise from the streets, a mic was thrust into my hands, a crowd surrounded me, and I sang dammit, oh and we danced, oh yes. It was a moment only Ferris Bueller (or maybe Parker Lewis) could have pulled off. That’s how I remember it anyway.

The story you might hear from others (all hogwash), was that a man in low cut red shorts, white tank top, yellow headband and a beautiful fake mustache with a brief speech, grabbed the attention of the crowd. Behind him, from a white van parked next to the curb, music began to play. The song was Taio Cruz’s Dynamite. A choreographed dance ensued. Choose which version you want to believe.

These Flash Mobs are a truly a great idea and a lot of fun to randomly witness. I can’t imagine anyone not enjoying a group of people dancing in a public setting with no other reason than to entertain and surprise others. So if anyone from that Flash Mob reads this, thanks a lot. You rock. Also, I’d also like you to pay attention at 1:21 of this video, because you can see the greatest jacket on the planet belonging to the gentleman in the black cap in the foreground.

In case you’re curious, here’s how the ballgame played out: Yankees, fired up from the pregame dance party take a 1st inning 1-0 lead. In the 3rd inning, Blue Jay, Jose Bautista spanks league leading 39th homerun, back-flips around the bases, Jays lead 2-1. Jays’ pitcher Morrow fans 12 over 6 innings and the game is tied 2-2 when he decides he might as well go for a soda, so of course he leaves immediately. Later on, a Yankees pitcher, obviously upset Bautista can hit a ball really really really far, decides to try and take off Jose’s head with a fastball. Tempers flare, words and recipes are exchanged, benches and bullpens clear (as seen below), and at this point I expect a white van to pull up on the field, Dynamite to start playing, and the two teams to start dancing, but unfortunately, it was not to be.

In the 8th inning, a choreographed dance deprived Bautista, gets another at bat and kabooms another homerun into left field giving the Jays a 3-2 lead and eventually, a victory on a beautiful, dance filled night.

Throughout the blockbuster hit, Magnum PI, there were questions of whether Jonathan Quayle Higgins III was actually Robin Masters, but that was never a question I had about Higgins. I always asked myself, “Does Higgins even know who I am? Does he love me the way I love him?”

Those that know me might be surprised I love Higgins so much when it is common knowledge that my love for Magnum PI and his mustache runs deeper than the Grand Canyon, but love, like many aspects of life,  isn’t always cut and dried and love triangles are not a rare occurrence, especially when it came to Higgins and Thomas Sullivan Magnum. Alas, I’m here to talk about Higgins, and just how much I love him, we can talk about Magnum another time.

Serving as a Sergeant Major with the British Army during WW II, Higgins knew a thing or two about discipline and I’d often lose myself in thoughts of being subject to such discipline. On top of being a high ranking officer, he also holds the title of Baron of Perth. Can you imagine being in love with a Baron, with a man of such high nobility? I can.

Higgins and Magnum would often butt heads, as is the case with such contrasting personalities, but you can’t blame Higgins for wanting to settle down the impulsive private investigator. It must have been heartbreaking for Higgins to watch Magnum bring home countless women in the cherry red Ferrari 308 GTS, while Higgins yearned for a mustache ride from Magnum. I know that desire has fluttered through the minds of anyone, man or woman, who has seen Magnum. There I go again, talking about Magnum. Sorry.

Sometimes I imagine Higgins and I, deeply in love,  living in a cozy beach house in Hawaii, sitting by the ocean, watching the lads, Zeus and Apollo (Higgins’ Dobermann pinschers) frolicking in the surf. I think maybe Magnum would show up one day to say hello. We’d ask him to stay for dinner and some drinks. We’d shoot the shit for a while, then Higgins would go to bed early, because he got a little too much sun and I’d tell him,  “I’ll be right in.”

When the light of dawn poked through the bedroom blinds, Higgins would awake, rub his eyes, yawn, and slide his hand over my side of the bed only to realize I wasn’t there. Then he’d call out for me as he searched the premises. Eventually, Zeus and Apollo would lead Higgins past a trail of carelessly strewn bottles of Coops beer (Mag’s fave!) to the Ferrari, where He would find Magnum and I curled up in the front seat together. He’d say, “I always knew the day would come when Magnum came between us, I just always hoped it would be him and me together.”

At that point he’d reach past our sweaty entwined legs, open the glove box and take out Magnum’s trademark M1911, semi-automatic handgun, put it in his mouth and pull the trigger. As Higgins’ lifeless body fell forward, leaving a dark thick trail of red on the hood of the Ferrari, Magnum and I would look at each other and smile, because hey, love conquers all, dude. Did you know Higgins had a doctorate in Mathematics from Cambridge University? Ya, I’m impressed too.

Thanks to TS Hendrik of The Non-Review for suggesting I “Write about [my] unbridled love of Higgins from magnum P.I.” Check out his site if you haven’t already. TGIF.

Oh Steven, I know you might be under the impression you’re above the law, but shooting children simply because they’re not hard to kill is neither funny nor beneficial to your career, which, by the way, is already constantly under siege by critics, but don’t worry my friend, I still think you’re the best and I’m sure these kids were up to no good and you were simply out for justice as usual. Most actors would agree that there was a time in his career where taking a questionable role put him under siege 2 err too. Just don’t be surprised when you’re marked for death by some of these children’s parents, Mr. Glimmer Man. By the way Steve, the exit wounds in this clip are pretty graphic and I think you’d best make an executive decision not to blow the lunch meat out of anyone under 18 in your movies anymore.

Was that cheesy? You bet. But cheese and Steven Seagal go hand in hand. By the way, this isn’t completely out of left field, it’s about this cleverly edited video I saw on YouTube, which is embedded below. Remember everyone, it’s just ketchup. No children were harmed in the making of this film.

Heads up: If you’re not someone who finds humor in morbid or dark comedy this clip is not for you.

Now, you shouldn’t need six reasons to go to Toronto’s Beer Festival when it’s a festival dedicated to drinking beer. Beerfest hosts 100s, if not millions of international and local breweries who want to get you drunk off your ass and have their way with you. On top of that, there are plenty of great food vendors and music acts, but those are the obvious reasons. Here are 6 more not so obvious reasons you shouldn’t miss Toronto’s Annual Beer Festival.

REASON #6: THIS GUY IS AWESOME! (Ignore my awful camera work, please. I had a couple-few beers).

It Tony was my best friend we’d talk about his days as a 2nd baseman for the St. Louis Cardinals and just how heartbreaking it must have been to go from a Major League Baseball player to a housekeeper in Connecticut. He would tell me that life can throw you some curveballs sometimes. I’d enjoy his timely baseball analogy and nod in agreement. Life can be tricky.

While noshing on Tony’s homemade veal sandwich we’d compare secrets in removing common and uncommon household stains and as always, Tony would know far too many housekeeping secrets. Is there anything he’s not good at? What a swell bestie Tony is.

Perhaps over a few beers I’d ask him just how bad things got between him and Angela when he took the teaching job in Iowa and if, in the end, it was worth it.

I might inquire if he had any nude photos of Mona hidden away that I could take a peek at or just how much he misses his blue van. That Mona was smoking hot and that van was super classic. Two old beauties that I wish could last forever.

“Has Jonathan come out of the closet yet?” I’d ask at Billy’s wedding.  Tony would probably laugh and say, “No comment.” He usually says the right things.

I’d probably get drunk one time and tell him he could do better than Angela and that he should go after Samantha. “She’s a hottie and has a nice rack,” I’d confide only remembering that Samantha is his daughter after he sent me reeling with a powerful right jab. “Don’t pretend you never thought about it, Tony!” I would yell angrily as I crawled away, pissing myself in terror. We would never speak again. You’d think Tony would understand that mistakes happen. After all, he did slide into home that one time and was out by a mile. What was he thinking? What a jackass.

For those of you who don’t know, Phil DeFranco, or sXePhil, is a famous YouTuber who often garners more than a million views per video he uploads. He’s responsible for 3 different successful YouTube channels and his full-time career is, yup you guessed it, a YouTuber. I have been watching Phil DeFranco’s vlog for over 6 months, and I consider him a pretty funny guy, so when he Tweeted a link to a new post on his website, I replied to it both via Twitter and directly on his website. To be clear, this was a website post, not a video post. The video post was yet to come.

Phil’s website post shows a t-shirt with a racist remark, which Phil isn’t denying is racist, but is using more as a platform for the joke seen below.

In response I replied on his website under the handle: C. Camel (below)…

and via Twitter (below) in hopes that he would read at least 1 of the 2 messages (sad, I know).

The funny part is, I reposted a link I had pilfered from his site later that very day before knowing he had used my joke, but the difference being that I gave him full credit and included link to both his website and his vlog! (you can see that post here). I’d like to clarify that I know this isn’t the best joke on the planet, and that someone, somewhere in the world might have made it before. Anyhow, later that night, and well after I’d posted the joke on both his website and Tweeted it to him, sXePhil posted his video (his Facebook announcement of the video pictured below) and reused his aforementioned Comic Sans joke he made on his website, plus 40 seconds in, he added a new joke that sounded very familiar and very much like the joke I had posted to him twice (video below).






While using other people’s links, pictures and ideas isn’t necessarily anything new on the internet, it makes sense to, at least, mention where you got the joke from, or do a shout out, especially if you’re a public figure on the internet. Thinking this was an oversight by Mr. DeFranco, I sent him an email letting him know what had occurred, and that it would be cool if he gave me a shout out. Today I received a response from Phil saying that he thinks this joke is from an old Mad TV or In Living Color episode and it fit the context. Maybe that’s true and maybe that’s a reply you can give anytime someone accuses you of stealing a joke, but it’s a bizarre coincidence that he’d use this old obscure joke hours after I had Tweeted it to him and mentioned it to him on his website. I’m sure Phil used it not really knowing why the joke was fresh in his mind, but it would have been nice to hear, “You know, maybe I did get that joke from you. Sorry about that. ”

So did Phil DeFranco steal my joke? Not knowingly I don’t think, but maybe. Am I making a mountain out of a mole hill? I don’t think so, or else I’d be calling Phil a asshole and a thief, and I don’t think he’s either of those things. In fact, I’ll be watching his vlogs later today for a laugh or two. I just thought this was a story worth mentioning and so that’s what I’m doing.

Anyway, my name is Corrupt Camel, and you’ve just been .. Corrupted? Doesn’t work quite as well as it would if my name was Phil.

In what seemed like a pretty cool gesture, Fat Mike, lead singer of the punk band NOFX and also, my personal hero, poured and handed out a tray of Patrón shots to the audience at his SXSW show in Austin, Texas. Free shots of premium tequila, what a great guy. But as you know from reading the title of this post, this was not your ordinary Patrón. Fat Mike then proceeded to show the audience a video he taped moments before the show, and that appears unedited, of him pissing into the bottle of Patrón and then pouring and handing the shots out to the crowd. The good news is that Fat Mike is an alcoholic, and his piss is mainly tequila anyway. Yum!

When TMZ questioned Fat Mike about his actions he said, “I confirmed that urine was not classified as a biohazard waste and not subject to the risks of legal ramifications of blood, semen, or feces.”

I’ve seen NOFX live many times and am happy to say, I’ve never accidentally, or purposefully drank any of Fat Mike’s urine…Except for that one time.

To see the video, click this link. Thanks to Alex for sending me this story.

Like many young lads I used to collect comics. Every weekend I’d scrape together my grass cutting money and take it to the local comic store to buy my monthly comics. Many, many years later I was invited to the 2010 Toronto Comic Con. Not something I’d usually attend, but I still have a soft spot for comics, and more importantly, it meant reuniting with an old friend, and for that it was well worth it.

This particular Comic Con taught me that this is where old wrestlers and hasbeens go to make some extra coin signing autographs and posing for pictures. It was sad. Really, really sad. Mainly because no one cared that The Million Dollar Man and Virgil were there. Nobody. If you’ve seen the movie The Wrestler, Comic Con showed just how accurate that portrayal was.

More than a few Ex-WWE Divas sat patiently, caked in make-up to cover up their age, waiting for fans to boost their deflating egos, demand pictures, and ogle at their fake tits spilling out of the top of their dresses. Again, no one cared.

The real spotlight of the Comic Con was the cosplay (short for “costume play”). Avid fans dressed as fictional characters and were more than happy to pose for a picture for free, unlike former WWF star, The Honky-Tonk Man, who charged $15 for a picture with him and $20 if you wanted the WWF (that’s right, WWF) belt on your shoulder. Sorry Honky-Tonk Man, $20 can buy me a pitcher of beer. Besides, I’d prefer a free picture with Cobra Commander thank you very much (psst, don’t tell Lady Jaye!).



B-list celebrity couple Christopher Knight (AKA Peter Brady from the Brady Bunch) and Playboy Playmate Adrianne Curry manned booths side by side at Comic Con. A big plus to the lovely Ms. Curry for allowing both me and my friend a picture with her for free as she donned a sexy Wonder Woman costume (Google her if you want to see her naked. It’s the first thing I did upon returning from Comic Con. Go ahead, no one’s watching). A minus to Mr. Knight, her husband, who pleaded with her to charge $25 for the photos (Google him if you want to see him naked. It’s the second thing I did upon returning from Comic Con. Go ahead, no one’s watching).



I think the tell-tale sign that a comic con isn’t that good is that the biggest attraction, and I kid you not, was Ernie (The Black Ghostbuster) Hudson. This may have been exciting if he too was wearing a wonder woman costume.



Like I said before, the best part of Toronto Comic Con, besides Adrianne Curry, was the fans. This guy’s Cobra Commander costume was stellar. His lady friend’s costume was pretty great too. I wonder if they use those costumers in the bedroom. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find anything on Google this time.



I know there are better comic cons, but this one was a bust. A big, saggy, Ex-WWE Diva bust, but it was worth it. Good seeing you again, Earl.