As children, neither of us went to the type of schools where every kid goes home with a trophy on track and field day and even if you don’t win the 100-meter dash, you still get to go home with a “compos mentis” ribbon affixed to your shirt. It’s probably because of these rough childhoods full of recognition only won in principals’ offices that we place such a premium on awards of any type, even those for which we have little respect or any hope of winning, such as the Shorty Awards.

The Shorty Awards have nothing to do with the hip hop use of the term to refer to women, including, we would assume, some who are taller than the speakers. Presumably they have their awards show sometime around the Oscars. The Shortys recognize Twitter users for the “Best producers of short, real time content 140 characters or less”, or, what you’d rather not hear when haggling with your insurance company and they hang up on you.

We are now, like a bird that’s flown into a bay window, tweeting more than ever, (click here for our Twitter page) but we still see the whole enterprise as a kind of never-ending Facebook status update purgatory. That said, we welcome your Shorty votes for us in the humor category –  Here is the link. We promise to bring it down from the inside if we take home a plaque and if we win, to Frisbee-style, hurl it off the balcony. We also vow to shout 140-character-plus  obscenities over the band trying to play us off. (Note: You can also vote for us in the “year’s best egocentric person” category too, even though there are technically [and by any other measure of reality] two of us).

The following is our Interview with the Shorty Awards, in true Twitter form, restricted to 140 characters or less (we weren’t being curt with the interviewer).

What’s your best tweet?
Don’t know, but it would take a disreputable pet store’s worth of dead budgies to replicate.

What are six things you could never do without?
blood flow to the brain, water, food, a toothbrush, pliers and a fake passport.

How do you use Twitter in your professional life?
To shamelessly promote ourselves, our writing, our website and our proven way to lose inches off your waist

What’s your favorite Twitter app?
The term ‘app’ is enough to make anyone throw app

Twitter or Facebook?
That is like choosing among your children, if one of them wasn’t dead… so Twitter.

What was the funniest trend you’ve seen?
The overwhelming juggernaut that is thesharkguys.com. The internet is the levee to our ‘Hurricane Katrina of comedy’ website

What feature should Twitter add?
The ability to become self-aware.

Who do you wish had a Twitter feed but doesn’t?
God. Example Tweet:  Currently prepping the next tsunami.

What are some words or phrases you refuse to shorten for brevity?
Quotes from Sir Winston Churchill. “It is a good thing for an uneducated man to read books of quotations” but he was not referring to Twitter

Is there someone you want to follow you who doesn’t already? If so, who?
We don’t know but they better undergo a criminal background check first.

Have you ever unfollowed someone? Who and why?
You cannot ‘unfollow’ someone. The opposite of following is running in random directions and there is no word for that.

Why should we vote for you?
Because The Shark Guys are unquestionably the finest thing to hit Twitter since JD Salinger hit the floor

Terms you wish would start trending on Twitter right now?
The phrase ‘A hematoma is characterized by swelling of the injured area’

What’s the most interesting connection you’ve made through Twitter?
That it counters Camus’ ‘passionate world of indifference’—sort of

Hashtag you created that you wish everyone used?
We don’t know what that is, but it’s illegal to be caught with it in Singapore.

How do you make your tweets unique?
By liberally misquoting the Book of Mormon

What inspires you to tweet?
A neural impulse traveling from the brain (generally a good place for neural impulses to generate) makes our fingers type out things.

Ever get called out for tweeting too much?
Yes, but bear repellent is equally effective on humans.

140 characters of advice for a new user?
Do not hesitate to post incriminating photos of people in powerful positions in various positions.

How long can you go without a tweet?
Depends on whether the facility is medium or minimum security

What question are we not asking here that we should?
Will Tweets eventually bring about World Peace or cast the yoke of oppression off the people of Tibet? In a word, yes.

Who do you admire most for his or her use of Twitter?
Michael McKean because This is Spinal Tap is possibly the greatest movie ever and he Tweeted one of our posts.

Why’d you start tweeting?
The more important question remains, when are we going to stop?

Has Twitter changed your life? If yes, how?
It’s irrevocably altered the way we view the color ‘teal’.

What do you wish people would do more of on Twitter?
Tweet during minor surgical procedures or better yet, from the electric chair

How will the world change in 2010?
Average global temperatures will either rise or fall.

What are some big Twitter faux pas?
Describing bowel movements using forlorn adjectives

What will the world be like 10 years from now?
Nostalgic for 2010 when Tweets were 140 characters instead of 63 a decade into the future

VOTE FOR THE SHARK GUYS HERE

2. I resolve to approach desired weight loss like a Global Warming cap-and-trade system where my gym membership is the carbon credit.

3. I resolve to return all DVDs to Blockbuster on time—so that Season Six, Episode Nine of Entourage is available for one more completist before that movie chain buys the pine condo mid-way through 2010.

4. Since quitting cigarettes is difficult, I resolve not to set any accidental fires while smoking

5. I resolve to quit drinking—at a maximum one-hour after last call or whenever impatient bar staff ushers me out the door, whichever comes first.

6. I resolve to register to vote, then take a pass when polling stations open, comforted in knowing that I could’ve exercised my democratic duty should the situation have called for it when people in other, less fortunate countries cannot.

7. I resolve to report a small portion of my gambling winnings to the proper authorities, should these earnings be high enough to noticeably influence my lifestyle or as part of a plea bargain.

8. I resolve to continue not watching most sporting events, but making impassioned arguments for how some team can improve their pitching should all other topics of bar conversation be exhausted.

9. I shall continue to run up a massive credit card debt, especially if the card is not my own, or spending is only on essential items whose essential-ness is based in large part on loyalty reward points that can be accrued at a liquor store.

10. I shall resolve not to make any New Year’s resolutions that could conceivably be broken by the time a week has passed, which is to say all of ‘em.

Happy New Year

All the best in 2010.

We thank you and look forward to bringing you more raucous fun in the new year. See you then.

The Shark Guys

We will return to our regularly scheduled programming on Monday.

a certain pride here

Charles Bukowski (Open All Night)

I don’t care to have my writing

praised too often:

it’s dangerous for the writing and

for me.

Writing is what one does,

it’s like a spider spinning its

web.

you do what you have

to do.

yet, regarding praise, I sometimes

weaken,

say when they write me

from the prisons that they

like my stuff.

or I like it better yet

when they write me

from the madhouse that they

like my stuff.

the bit I liked best, though,

was when the

madam of a Nevada whorehouse

wrote me

that she and the girls

liked my stuff

and anytime

I was in the neighborhood

I could have all of it I wanted
for free.

that beats

any notice I might get

in the N.Y. Times

hands

down.

As some of you are no doubt aware (we’ve spent the better part of a year and a half intermittently shilling for it), this is the official blog for our humor book, which comprises a Great White’s snaggle-toothed mouthful of a title:  “The Man Who Scared a Shark to Death and Other True Tales of Drunken Debauchery” (to be known henceforth as ‘The Shark Book’, in the interest of energy conservation and somehow reducing our environmental impact on the high seas).

That we are known as ‘The Shark Guys’, should come as no surprise either, not because we’re fond of the phrase ‘We’re gonna need a bigger boat’ (though we are) or slurp enough fin soup to risk endangering them;’ rather, this is what marketing genius gurus refer to as ‘branding’. We sincerely hope you like it, as it’s far too late to change it now and it’s preferable to, though not as accurate as, ‘The Drunken Debauched Guys’.

This site is updated thrice weekly. Why three you ask? Well, some really good things come in threes: threesomes, celebrity deaths, a Bronze medal (we’re Canadian, it’s the best we can hope for), jazz trios, six-man tag-team matches, [Please See our Worst Masked Wrestling Gimmicks] and it’s the atomic number of Lithium. [August 3rd is also auspicious in our home province as it's a holiday]

Along with our notable  Top 10 Lists, product reviews, travelogues, beer tastings, movie reviews and reasons why you should not bring the Turbo Jam DVD set to the office,  The Shark Guys site will provide information about the authors: freelance journalism, radio appearances, press, readings, outstanding arrest warrants, and of course news on the next book. Speaking of which, we are currently working on that book. Some of you might have noticed the posts have been getting shorter lately: this is not to reflect people’s diminished attention spans or laziness on our part, but rather, diligent toiling toward our deadline.

Heads up: Next week, we will be in New York City for matters relating to said book and perhaps updating research on our post ‘New York City Versus Toronto’, though we believe it’s entirely accurate and in no way misleading. As a result, expect a Monday post and then a short hiatus as we take the Staten Island ferry out for a joyride, scale Lady Liberty’s heights and get some R&R in the East Village and Brooklyn. The last time both of us were in NYC together, it was the week of September 11.

This mini vacation could not come at a better time, especially if the Toronto City Council votes down the strike resolution and those of us in the downtown core continue to be overcome by the fumes emitted by the garbage.

Thank you to our growing readership and feel free to spam as many friends and acquaintances with links to this site.

Have a great weekend and on a related note, enjoy Shark Week on the Discovery Channel.

The Shark Guys

Michael Jackson was the king of the tabloids (who until yesterday were referring to him as “The Self-Proclaimed King of Pop” – get ready for more shameless post-mortem backstepping than after Diana’s death), the wellspring of more checkout-aisle drivel than anyone who has ever lived – yes, we stand by what would be hyperbole about anyone else – and the punchline to more late-night monologue jokes than OJ Simpson and any two American presidents you got combined. Hell as recently as Monday, we were pulling out of the gift-that-keeps-giving Jacko joke bag.

But we’re also children’ of the 1980s, a decade that thankfully preceded the YouTube generation. Had somebody’s mobile phone camera been trained on us back in those days you might have seen one or both of us in those leather jackets with zippers, pitting a Michael Jackson doll in an uneven fight with a Mr. T action figure, or wearing one glove (doing so and coming through Canadian winters with all fingers accounted for was just good luck). Neither of us would ever own up to behind-closed-doors moonwalking, but let’s just say that Michael Jackson was as much a part of 80s childhoods as He-Man, bad cinema, and insatiable yuppie greed that shat on the hopes and ideals of the two decades that preceded it.

Chris remembers hearing Thriller for the first time at his cousin’s house and it blowing his mind. Noel remembers a running feud with an older neighbor kid who ridiculed him for saying (in the chirpish voice of youth) that Thriller and Bad were awesome. The neighbor insisted that Michael Jackson was just a poor man’s Lionel Richie and was not afraid of doling out a noogie to get his point across. (If that guy’s reading today, let’s just say that, Thriller, the best-selling album of all time – which in effect is an untouchable record because computer piracy has killed the album – well, it wasn’t put out by Lionel.) What we both remember are sounds that will forever be there in our minds. We think back to our childhoods and remember this music and – unlike the majority of 80s television and the second Terminator film – it stands the test of time, and we give ourselves credit for not having tin ears at that age.

Of course, then there were the 1990s. Michael Jackson’s musical output deteriorated and things got from cute weird – who wouldn’t want a pet chimpanzee (though maybe not to hang around with an aged Liz Taylor) – to the kind of weird that made liking him as a musician an awkward thing to admit.

It seems that if you’re a celebrity from a humble start, that included in the welcome gift bag you get upon entry into the club of the super fabulous is a posse of bloodsuckers incapable of giving advice other than “I think it’s time you sign the monthly pay slips, boss.” Throw in a mind that is not exactly a specimen of sound health and the results are inevitable – Howard Hughes insane and pissing in specimen bottles while his fortune crumbles, Mike Tyson boxing tomato cans for the minimal cash that’s in it, Michael Jackson building the Neverland Ranch, and inviting children into a world that screamed, “We find on behalf of the plaintiff”.

The charges against him lose some steam when you look at those making them.  What manner of person sends their kids for pajama parties at the home of a pop star who is, at best, a troubled middle-aged man who thinks cotton candy should be available on demand?

We’re not the types to look back on Annie Hall or Hannah and Her Sisters with a perspective skewed by the Soon-Yi affair – they remain classics… though we will drop Woody like a turd from a tall horse if he does another film with Scarlett Johansson. (Some things are just unforgivable). A creative work of merit stands above and apart from the personal shortcomings of its creator. Thank the pharaohs for that or we’d be in trouble.

For those of us who grew up with his sounds causing us early ear drum damage, his music gets the first two or three tracks of our life soundtracks.

Michael Jackson produced more great music between the ages of six and eight than any of the Idol programs will produce in their entire run. R.I.P.

For those of the “God must’ve been angry at New Orleans” natural variety, some folks choose to hunker down, stay vigilant and throw their weight behind and on top of whatever neighbor is still defying gravity, while others find that defying death is just the moment to seduce the missus.

In a bit of inspired writing that doesn’t normally grace newspapers unless freelancers bust through union restrictions limiting their use, a scribe at the Houston Chronicle noted that there’s been “a curious bump in the number of women who are rounding out their third trimesters of pregnancy”. This two time double entendre turn of phrase is much preferable to the ‘throwing the baby out with the bath /flood waters’ that might’ve otherwise passed the tired eyes of copy editors.

Yes, it seems that doctors who work in Houston’s busiest maternity ward say they’re expecting an especially hectic June, due either to the big storm or spouses’ attempts at wresting husbands away from the onset of the NFL season.

Apparently, it’s been eight months since Ike blasted the region, knocking out electricity and leaving many with no television, Internet access or stash of pharmaceutical distractions that would otherwise pass the time.

It seems obstetrical practices like The Woman’s Hospital of Texas (word on the street has it that it’s a great place to pick up chicks) are doing double duty these days and that this baby boom could be the result of diminished pharmacy hours during which time you’d normally replenish a batch of expired condoms.

This leaves us with one inescapable conclusion: People left to their own devices, when there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do, practice unprotected sex.

As one Houstonian put it, who is much more given to cynicism than we are: “Anyone can procreate. Actually, stupidity and vanity rule in the ‘I can make a baby’ department. Oh, wow, people had sex during a hurricane, stop the presses. There was the “I need to party and screw” mentality, and there were others who got out and helped their neighbors.”

“You are like a hurricane
There’s calm in your eye.
And I’m gettin’ blown away”

Like a Hurricane, Neil Young.

Well, despite what you are reading here, this is typically a non posting day. Yes, in the interests of keeping things fresh, like produce brought to market before being unloaded to the nearest foodbank, we maintain a strict posting regimen of three times a week, Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Of course, in the event of an occurrence so momentous it requires our immediate attention—the Obama inauguration, the air strike in Gaza, shortlist for best Lowland Terrier at the Westminster Dog Show, rest assured we’ll be at our keyboards, in our respective home bases of Toronto and Bangkok, bringing you the funny.

As depicted in the artwork above, today is a day devoted solely to research, not of the type that determines what makes the human genome tick, muscle density loss in outer space or how to build a better fuel cell, but researching what we’ve become known for: our very unique Lists. [For our previous lists, click here].

Since then, we’ve amassed the Top 20 Worst Masked Wrestling Gimmicks of All Time, Top 10 Exploding Animals, Psychic Predictions that were Hilariously off the Mark, Top 5 Moments in Junk Science, Top 10 Drinking and Driving Songs, Top 10 Psychic Predictions, Top 10 Songs about Gin and 20 Worst Christmas Ornaments Found on Ebay. These can be found here.

If there are any lists you’d like to see here, we’re open to suggestion and welcome using other people’s ideas on occasion rather than generating our own. Feel free to email us at admin@thesharkguys.com

That’s all for now, join us tomorrow for more merriment.

Cheers,

The Shark Guys

Grech does our nation proud

As far as we can tell, which, in terms of distance is about from here to the computer screen, Canada has failed to capture gold at any Olympic games it’s hosted.

While this would embarrass any other nation, especially one whose mastery of sport should go beyond hockey or the shuffleboard on ice that can be played while on dialysis, otherwise known as curling, it hasn’t really bothered us—until now, that is [Editor's note, we don't particularly care one way or the other, as we haven't participated in any competitive sport since 8th grade badminton got us out of afternoon school commitments, 'us' refers to our fellow Canucks]

Own the Podium is a venture devised to help Canada earn more hardware than any other country, as we prepare for the much anticipated birth of that baby white elephant—the 2010 Olympic Games in Vancouver, several mob-affiliated cement trucks’ worth of debt that will sink the capital of Canada’s Lotus Land into the Pacific.

At least with Own the Podium, we can take home said podium once athletes from other countries have graced it, the podium being the only structure that won’t soon have moss sprouting out of it once those three week games are said and done.

Our great nation might be a perennial Olympic loser, however that doesn’t mean we don’t produce great athletes—MMA cage king Georges St Pierre, assiduous point guard Steve Nash [Click here for our somewhat related list of Ten Best NBA Names], ‘Kid Poker’ Daniel Negreanu and now Ryan Grech, bug-eyed TV viewer par excellence.

Grech, an Ontario man, with an intrinsic advantage of living somewhere that is mostly inhospitable for 8 months of the year, set an unofficial Guinness Book record for continuous TV viewing, at 71 hours and 2 minutes in front of the set (with 15 minute bathroom breaks granted every 3 hours). He did this at a Toronto shopping mall, when he sat through the complete seasons 1-5 of ‘24’, causing mall security to extend the hours during which they normally hound teens out of the food court.

“I had a game plan from the beginning”, noted Grech. “I looked at the food that they were serving and I’d say ‘Well, if I eat this I’m going to have to use the washroom”, words of wisdom familiar to anyone who’s taken a long haul Greyhound or had to fly with American Airlines.

This feat earned him $24,000, or, roughly twice what a prospective Olympian has to live on while they train.

From the comfort of the sofa, beside which a cooler has been chilling cold ones for just such an occasion, we raise a glass to you Mr Grech.

We would’ve posted yesterday, however we were busy fine-tuning our How to Survive a Hangover: Holiday Tips in preparation for what will undoubtedly be another booze-soaked year, and found that some of our advice may have wanting.

Perhaps it wasn’t so much the advice itself, as it was that between us we’d consumed enough beer and cheap wine to stun an ungulate.

Still, we figured we’d continue to test the limits of the human kidney today, swill bath loads of strong coffee, and re-fortify ourselves for a Friday post in keeping with the production schedule our readers (who’ve become accustomed to free thrice-weekly comedy postings, those ever-demanding ingrates) of Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

In 09, The Shark Guys will, despite the economic downturn that has ravaged those of you with real jobs, continue to bring you the funny.

We’ve cut back on those $500 stipends doled out to interns, demanding the funds be returned and showing them the door and we’ve outsourced some of our Top 10 Lists to Southeast Asia, but rest assured, we will translate phonetic Vietnamese into what will hopefully continue to be the type of high-end, hilarity you’ve come to know, love and add to your newsfeeds.

So, we shakily raise a mug of orange pekoe tea to everyone and look forward to bringing you Cuban refugee boat loads’ worth of mirth for another, this our second, year in operation.

The Shark Guys