Comic Wonder has asked me to do an occasional blog.  I’ll start by saying that it’s usually a rule of mine to NEVER work on holidays.  Although today isn’t a traditional holiday it is an important Anniversary.  This entire month is actually the 40th Anniversary of the introduction of the cubicle.  The moment that we lost our sense of individuality and gained our inner office privacy.  At least from the front and sides.  That aside, I am celebrating this milestone anniversary by doing what most cubicle enslaved droids do when they want to be productive….I’m working from Starbucks.  Despite the recent news of downsizing you can still find a few.  I came to find some inspiration for this blog and I realized that my subject was wiping the raw sugar packet crystals from the bistro tables.  A charming silver haired gentleman was cleaning up after the morning rush.  He was whistling like only someone of his generation could.  It’s a lost art.  I think our tongues have evolved to a less sophisticated design because I have never come close to whistling like my grandad could.  I began feeling sad for this man because here he was in the twilight of his life wiping up coffee drips.  Not that it’s a bad job but it seemed to me that he shouldn’t be working at all.  It’s easy to admire this generation because of all they have been through.  They are known as “The Greatest Generation” because of their experiences with World Wars, The Great Depression (even worse than our current oil crisis) and making due with however little life dealt them.  They are an amazing breed of people who make up for their lack of deodorant with a flare for colorful clothing.  Embroidered hearts and suspenders with jeans are a trademark.  Today’s fashion is a bit more provocative.  Swap the embroidered hearts for sayings like “juicy”and “hottie.”  Then place those slogans on the rear end of tight pants.  You get the point.  This Greatest Generation have bruises and veins that seem to have stories to tell.  Stories of struggle, perseverance and pride.  They are to be honored and celebrated.  The Greatest Generation by Tom Brokaw is a great testament to this idea.  It’s this well intended introduction that leads me to my controversial point.  If you visit a community pool on a regular basis you will likely appreciate my concern.  It pains me to say it but…The Greatest Generation has the WORST BODIES!  I know this first hand because I frequent a community aquatics center that is literally teeming with senior citizens.  Stripped down, completely, totally and utterly nude senior citizens.  It’s definitely a generational thing.  Public showers are to the Greatest Generation what ipods are to Gen X & Y.  They MUST use them.  They are compelled to.  When swim trunks will do, they opt for stark nudity.  You know the bank of showers that you’ll find in the average locker room?  That’s where you will find them.  Forget the showers featuring curtains or partitions.  Nope, they choose the wide open spaces.  Good long showers that leads to a great deal of lather and body fold inspection.  We all know the graphic reality of a thorough wash up but we usually reserve that for the privacy of our home.  Alone.  No innocent bystanders to traumatize.  This generation seems to be as comfortable waltzing nude across the entire locker room as they are complaining about the poor quality food they “just paid $4 dollars for at the Golden Spork Buffet.”  Their spider veins, mole clusters & oozing hair sprouts are all the armor they wear in these situations.  It’s the complete and utter nudity that is the issue here.  Proctologists have dealt with less graphic scenarios.  Even the walk to their locker is done in the buck.  I’m not sure they even own towels.  To be totally honest?  I am insanely jealous.  It’s not for the thrill and it’s not anything sexual.  It’s simply the greatest generation doing something they do naturally.  Very naturally.

Golf season is finally upon us and the Comic Wonder members are getting in the spirit by signing in and telling their favorite golf jokes. I put together a list of my favorites - if you’re a golfer, I think you will definitely get a kick out of these:

• A woman gets stung while golfing by Tommyboy
• The barn and the ball by grandpa bob
• Perfect golf by wellsy
• FORE!!!!!!!! by sideshow1331
• A hole in one by captainhilariousness 
• Slow golfers by Adubya
• Par for the course by sideshow1331
• Long golf game by RareBlueMonkey
• A Rabbi, a Priest and a Minister by trouth2o
• Golf with the boss by Adubya 
• Jeff and Mike are golfing by RareBlueMonkey

It’s that time of year, golfers are hitting the greens and golf jokes are starting to come in on our site. I am not a golf expert, actually I have never even played golf. But, I live with a golf pro whose motto is if there’s no snow on the ground, it’s open season to golf.

The funny thing about golf for me is that everyone gets excited to go out and golf, “let’s get some beer, some cigars, and have a great time on the course,” I hear the guys say. My husband will wake up early, go through some pretty bizarre pre-game stretching rituals and heads to the course smiling, prepared to have one hell of a day and golf better than all his friends, I’m sure. But, it always sounds like something very different happens when they actually get to the course.

This sounds more like their golfing days…after the first shot is fired the first f-bomb is also fired into the air, and soon after that the first club is tossed further than the last shot traveled. They all stop talking, and my husband’s most mile mannered friend turns into the incredible hulk and every shot sends him into more and more rage. Often times the words “I hate this game” or “why did we even come out here” are muttered. Now, maybe I’m just not getting it, but this doesn’t sound like much fun to me. But, one thing seems to always save the day for them - just when they think the day could not get any worse, from the distance comes the beautiful sound of a cart headed the wrong way up the fairway. Now when this happens I’m sure their eyes get wide, the smiles come back, and they begin to salivate. The cart brings the only thing that could possibly calm them down and that, as we all know, is an ice cold beer from the cart girl. Then, when the first beer is cracked they begin talking about the 19th hole. Regardless how bad they played that day, they sit back, relax, and drink the bad shots away and say their what-ifs…what if I didn’t hit that one out of bounds, what if I would have made that putt, what if I just wouldn’t have chucked that one. Ahhh, the 19th hole.

Then, even if they played awful they begin to think about the next time they can get together and do it all over again. So stressful and yet so fun.

For some great golf jokes, click here.

Professional athletes are, by virtue of their trade, good at sports. Most of them can rightfully be called “super-humans” in terms of raw physical ability; they can run faster, jump higher, and hit harder than most of us could ever imagine. If you’re an armchair quarterback and often find yourself thinking “I could do that if I really wanted to” as you watch the professionals play football on Sundays, you need only reference SpikeTV’s “Pros vs. Joes” (current season’s episodes air at 11pm Eastern Time), in which amateur athletes are matched up against the likes of Hall of Famers Jerry Rice and Bo Jackson in various competitions that simulate pro football. It’s kind of like American Gladiators, if you stripped AG of its professional wrestling theatrics (goofy nicknames, even goofier outfits) and replaced the gladiators with real athletes and not just muscle-bound steroid freaks. On the whole, the “Challengers” on American Gladiators—the amateurs, that is—tend to fare much better than the “Joes” on “Pros vs. Joes.” That is to say: the Joes usually get the shit kicked out of them.

As it turns out, most of us regular Joes—no matter how dutifully we work out—can’t hang with the Pros for more than a step or two, if that.

Unfortunately, a professional athlete’s ability often bears no correlation to his mental ability. Many pro athletes are as dumb as they are good—or even dumber if you’ve followed the headlines in the past year. There are various schools of thought when it comes to this—too much money, too much attention—but to me, it all comes down to this: one’s ability to avoid would-be tacklers while running with an oval-shaped sphere invariably says nothing of one’s ability to avoid drunkenly speeding in a Ferrari or slapping hookers. Granted, being smarter can make you a better football player, but being a better football player cannot make you smarter.

I can live with that. Pro athletes didn’t sign-up to be role-models or NASA engineers; they just signed-up to play and make millions of dollars (and slap hookers, depending on who you ask). But what I can’t stand is when professional athletes lose all sense of perspective, when forget that they’re “playing a child’s game for a king’s ransom” in the words of former NFL star WarrenSapp, and start acting like whiny turds. Which brings me to the following clip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zc11PUnFgkQ.

As you just saw, this clip shows Milwaukee Bucks center Andrew Bogut high-fiving himself after making a free throw. “Is this simply an act of lunacy?” you ask. “Is this just more evidence to support the hypothesis that being born in war-torn Croatia and raised in whacky Australia will inevitably lead to an irreconcilable inner battle of Nature vs. Nurture?” No. It’s just that usually when a Bucks player makes a free throw, all of his surrounding teammates high-five him. It’s customary. But in this case, Mr. Bogut has to perform an act of congratulatory masturbation because the rest of his teammates are too busy wallowing in the depths of a another miserable loss in a long, miserable season.

This clip is funny, but it is NOT laughable. Bogut’s teammates should be ashamed of themselves. It’s okay to lose; in fact, 50% of all pro athletes are losers after any given match. But it’s not okay to lose like a Soviet athlete that must return to his Communist country bound for a life of hardship and disgrace, when in reality you’ll be returning to your Mercedes Benz coupe that has tires worth more than most of us regular Joes make in several months.

I think those turd-like Bucks players should be featured on a new show on Spike TV (that I just came up with): “From Pros to Joes.” Yeah! Try blogging for a comedy Website for a living, Mr. NBA All-Star. We’ll see how much you appreciate your little game then!