Puntabulous

So I was in the car driving to the train station this morning singing (loudly) along to my favorite Madonna song. And I was thinking to myself: “This is by far the best Madonna song ever. How could this not be everyone’s favorite Madonna song?” And then I thought: “What if it isn’t everyone’s favorite Madonna song?!”

So for those of you who couldn’t think of a debate topic to debate with me, I’m giving you a freebie. If you feel passionately about a Madonna song, e-mail me the song title and if you’re the first person to e-mail me with a song that isn’t the one I’m talking about, we’ll fight for the title of best Madonna song in a heated Puntabulous Debate.

The next person to participate in my ass-whoopings… I mean Guest Debates is Jester who writes the fantastic blog Jestertunes. In today’s whoo… debate, we try and decide which is better, dogs or cats. Jester is on Team Dog, I am on Team Cat.

Jester: I can not believe that you think cats are better than dogs. What kind of Wal-Mart brand discount crack are you smoking? I have two words for you, “undying loyalty”. Haven’t you ever seen that episode of Futurama where Frye’s dog sits and waits on the sidewalk for a thousand years?

Craig: Yeah, I’ve seen that episode. And you know what I think? I think it’s pathetic. Come on dog! Get a life! Dogs are all like “Love me! Pet me! Coddle me!” What losers! You would never see cats lowering themselves to that level. Cats have more respect for themselves than that. If they want to be loved, they’ll come to me. If not, they’ll do their own thing and leave me the hell alone.

Jester: Sure cats have respect for themselves, and NO respect for others whatsoever! They feel entitled to sleep all day, meow all night, drop nasty frothy hairballs all over the place, kick litter halfway across the room… and I swear they secretly plot to kill their owners in their sleep. If I wanted that kind of treatment, I’d get back together with my Ex! Dogs, on the other hand want nothing more than to make their owners happy! “Let me guard the back yard!” “Let me scare away the creepy mailman!” “Let me keep your feet warm!”

Craig: Let’s see…When you say they want to “Guard the back yard” I hear “Bark all day and be annoying”. When you say they want to “Scare away the creepy mailman” I hear “Torture a poor old soul and be annoying”. When you say they want to “Keep my feet warm” I think “Ouch! You bastard! What are you doing on my feet?!” Cats deserve to sleep all day since being so damn cool is exhausting! I should know! I require, like, zero sleep! And that frothy hairball you find so disgusting? It was a present you ungrateful bastard!

Jester: Remind me to get off your Christmas list! Look, every cat I have ever met has had mental problems. Seriously! One minute they want attention and rub all over your lap; the next they become screaming balls of teeth and claws. In. Your. Lap. Dogs just want to lick you while you pet them. That’s not entirely unpleasant, in fact, some people pay big money for that. Have you ever been licked by a cat, Craig? It’s like a tuna-scented sandpaper body scrub!

Craig: You know what a screaming ball of teeth and claws is good for? Guarding your house! Burglars can easily distract dogs with tasty treats, but cat’s aren’t as easily fooled, because they aren’t stupid! One morning I woke up to a dead burglar in my living room. I looked over at my dog who was eating a bone, and then looked at my cat who just looked back at me with a glimmer in her eyes and gave me a thumbs up. True story.

Jester: Oh please, my cats greet every visitor as if he is wearing catnip and salmon pants. You didn’t mention what kind of bone your dog was eating… I’ll wager a guess that it was one of the burglar’s vertebra. Your cat was merely acknowledging the greatness of the mighty dog who protected you both. Let me ask you something… when’s the last time your cat came up to you with a leash and a ball in her mouth begging you to get off the computer and go outside to play?

Craig: First off, cat’s don’t have leashes because they are too cool for that. Why do dogs need leashes? If dogs love you so much, why do you need to tether them to you?! Because they are too stupid to know that they shouldn’t run away, or attack local school children, or poop in the neighbor’s garden. Which brings me to another awesome thing about cats: They clean up after themselves! They’re practically toilet trained! Have you ever heard anyone complain because they stepped in cat poop? Nope!

Jester: Dogs need leashes to keep them from spreading their love and joie de vivre to every single person they meet along the way. Seriously, if my dogs weren’t leashed when we’re out for a walk, we’d have 8 hour leg humping and heavy petting sessions with all the neighbors. And you KNOW I get tired after the first hour! And since you brought it up, I don’t think there is a chemical on earth that comes close to being as toxic as cat pee. God help you if your cat starts using an area in your house (like the top of the refrigerator!?!) that you don’t notice for a day a two. It makes your eyes burn, your face melt, and I’m pretty sure it’s a leading cause of the “great hair migration” from your head to your shoulders.

Craig: Um, if by “spreading their love” you mean “spreading their seed and leaving wet spots on my leg” than yes, you are correct. And do you live in some sort of bizarro world where dogs humping your legs aren’t considered annoying and disgusting? Because last I checked, it’s not a pleasurable experience! Unless you’re into bestiality, which if that’s the case, your arguments in this debate should be considered a conflict of interest and thrown out the figurative window.

Jester: Just how long do you allow a dog to hump your leg that he leaves wet spots? Hello, Pot, it’s Kettle calling! While I will admit to having dated some “dogs” in the past, they were always the human variety. They were just as inclined to hump the neighbor’s leg, however. Dogs don’t really need me sticking up for them in this debate; just look at all the famous dogs out there: Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, Eddie (from Frasier), Benji, Marmaduke, Snoopy, Odie, Shithead (from The Jerk), Pluto, Astro, Scooby Doo, Brian Griffin… this list could go on and on. Compare that to the cats: Heathcliff, Morris, and Garfield. Oh, and that cat that mauled Roy Horn.

Craig: Hmmm, let me introduce you to some cats I know: Lion-O, Jaga, Tygra, Panthro, and Cheetara. You would have been Mumm-Ra’s bitch by now if they weren’t out there protecting your ass. What good is the love and affection of a dog if they can’t protect you from evil intergalactic forces? Sure, dogs may be a man’s best friend. But what if the man is evil? Bam! Evil dog. Dog’s are too stupid to know the difference between good and evil. You can train them however you want! They have no minds of their own! “Here Fido! Take this nuclear weapon and bury it in the neighboring country. Good boy!”

Jester: Wait a second… I thought this debate was about which was better, cats or dogs, not who was a bigger geek (you will obviously win that argument!). I would never count on a dog or a cat to save me from intergalactic forces; I have my trusty tin foil hat for that. I think I win this debate based solely on your concession that an evil man with a dog makes the dog evil, which conversely must also mean that a good man will have a good dog. Everyone knows that all cats are evil no matter what kind of owner they have.

Craig: Cat’s aren’t evil. They are cool. There’s a big difference. Like those kids that used to put me in a headlock everyday in junior high. They weren’t evil. They were cool. I can see how the difference may be difficult for the untrained eye to detect, but there is definitely a difference. In conclusion, dogs require too much attention. I am far too self serving to be responsible from something that requires that much attention. That’s why I like cats. And babies.

So who do you guys think won?

Think you could do better? Send me an e-mail with a topic you’d like to debate with me! For more Puntabulous Debates CLICK HERE!

So I put out a call for Guest Debaters, and Polt of Polt’s Palace answered that call! In today’s Guest Debate, we try and decide which sucks more, living in a Rural area, or living in an Urban area!

Polt: Rural life, Craiggers, sucks, and I ought to know. I’ve lived all my nearly 40 years in the same town of 9,000 people. Why does rural life suck? Let’s start with shopping. You want to buy something in rural America, you can choose from Wal-Mart, Wal-Mart, Wal-Mart, oh, and lest I forget, Wal-Mart. High quality there, my friend!

Craig: Lest? Who the hell uses the word lest? Oh this is going to be too easy! City living sucks approximately three times as much ass as rural living. Yes, let’s start with shopping. “I want to go shopping! Let me go to one of those trendy boutiques that are so much cooler than Wal-Mart! Oh wait! I have no spending money because my rent is so damn expensive! No shopping for me!”

Polt: Rent? Rent as in an apartment? Oh that would be nice having people near you. Here in the country we live out in the woods, where it takes a compass to find your way to your mailbox. And you better bring along some snacks, cause if not, you’re liable to starve on the arduous trek to get the bills. And on your way, you get to smell the lovely odors wafting over from the farm next door. Nothing like sucking in the sulfurous smell of pig and cow manure whilst on your hours long trek to get the weekly newspaper from the box!

Craig: Um. Because the city is so well known for it’s glamorous urban smells? I don’t think so! And what’s so good about having people around? That trumpet player who lived above me was a blast! Literally! Oh, but he wouldn’t play after 10. Wasn’t that nice of him? You know, because trumpet playing is only annoying after 10. Now multiply that by EIGHT MILLION!!!!

Polt: Funny you should bring up music! Cause out here, all we’ve got is country music. Twanging, my- wife- left- me- and- my- dog- died- and- the- truck- needs- new- tires- and- I’m- outta- beer- money country music. In the city, you want music, you have the symphony, or opera, or all kinds of cultural enrichment. Here, the only culture we’ve got is yogurt and whatever that green stuff is growing in the old bathtub on the back porch. For entertainment, we have watching the grass grow, talking about which of the high school girls has the most teeth (cause you know she’ll be the Homecoming queen), NASCAR and shooting empty beer bottles off tree stumps at 100 yards. Yee-HAW!

Craig: Um, I don’t know what kind of dorks you hang out with but I am NOT going to the opera. Snooze-a-rama! At least you have grass! If we want to go see grass, we have to trek all the way to Central Park! Oh wait! The subways aren’t running this weekend! And I can’t have a car, because only crazy people bring their cars into the city! So I guess I’m stuck in my apartment! Hmmm, let’s see what’s on TV. Reruns of the Dukes of Hazzard! Woo! Living in the country looks like so much fun!

Polt: The Dukes of Hazzard, ah yes, now you’re onto another great thing about the country: fashion! Daisy Dukes, there’s some elegant apparel, something that we gay men can appreciate…as long as a cute guy is wearing them. And let’s not forget Uncle Jessie, an old fat man in bib overalls. Bib overalls, flannel shirts, belt buckles the size of Rhode Island and cowboy boots (even worn to weddings), quite the fashion plate eh? And let’s not forget, being thusly attired, one MUST have a glob of chewing tobacco in one’s cheek. There’s nothing like seeing a man with honking huge bulge in his cheek spit out wad of black snuff/saliva that could drown a large dog.

Craig: I think you’re missing the best part of being surrounded by a bunch of poorly dressed hicks! It just makes you look that much better in comparison! As long as the top and bottom of your Champion brand jogging suit matches, you’re already ahead of the pack! In the city you’re surrounded by flocks of immaculate metrosexuals, which is bad for two reasons: 1) You can’t tell the straight ones from the gay ones and 2) They make you look like crap in comparison! Two metrosexual eyebrows equals one Craig eyebrow. It’s terrible!

Polt: One eyebrow, two eyebrows, whatever. I got two words to show you why urban life is better: Indoor and Plumbing. Outhouses, what a marvelous invention, especially in the middle of January at 3:00 in the morning when your stomach’s rumbling from last night’s meal like a 67 Chevy without a muffler. Nuff said.

Craig: Please. Don’t even try to tell me there’s still outhouses where you’re from. I don’t believe you. You live in a rural area, not a fourth world area! You want bad plumbing? Try showering in the morning when the rest of your apartment building is showering at the same time. Drip. Drip. Drip. What’s that? Oh that’s just Craig trying to get the soap out of his eyes!

Polt: Ooo, an actual standup shower! How much sweeter would that be than sitting in a metal tub filled with tepid water, soap suds and your own filth, dumping steaming water from a pitcher onto yourself to wash off! And look, just because I don’t happen to use a tub or an outhouse doesn’t mean they don’t exist out here. And they, along with all the other factors I pointed out above, make it obvious that rural life is worse than urban life. I would think that would be obvious even to you, you broke, apartment-dwelling, no car driving, uni-browed, drip-drying city-boy you!

Craig: Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Let’s get one thing straight before we end this debate and declare me the winner. I have two eyebrows! They may be enormous! They may put Peter Gallagher’s to shame. They may be a lot of things. But there are two of them. TWO! Alright. In conclusion: living in the city sucks. Mass transit never works. Half your salary pays for your crappy apartment. And the suckiest part about living in the city, you ask? Everyone else in the city loves it. The city is their baby. And you’re the lone asshole who thinks their baby is ugly.

So who do you guys think won?

Think you could do better? Send me an e-mail with a topic you’d like to debate with me! For more Puntabulous Debates CLICK HERE!

Remember those debates me and Olivia used to do? Well I think it’s time we bring those back with a little spin! I’m going to bring on a series of guest-debaters to debate hot topics with me. But you’re going to be the one picking the debate topics! Send me an e-mail with a topic you’d like to debate with me (e.g. what’s the cutest baby animal? who’s the most badass transformer?) and I’ll pick my favorites and the winners will debate their hot topics with me.

1. Debates will be performed over e-mail. You’ll send an e-mail with your opinion regarding your debate topic, I’ll reply, you’ll reply, I’ll reply, and so on, until we have a series of statements (about 6-7 each). Then we’ll each take pictures of ourselves that reflect each of our statements and compile them into a complete debate post.

2. You have to be willing to have pictures of yourself posted on my site.

3. The back and forth e-mail should only take a few days, so you have to check your e-mail at least 2-3 times a day so you can reply in a timely manner.

4. Be funny!

5. No political topics, obvs!

6. Check out our old debates so you can have an idea of what I’m looking for! Olivia was a pro!

7. If you have a blog, send it to me with your debate topic so I can scope it out.

8. So for now, just e-mail me a topic, and if I like it, I’ll send you an e-mail about when we’ll begin our debate! The more the merrier!

It’s that time again! Olivia and Craig go head-to-head over one of society’s most important issues:

WHICH MEAL OF THE DAY IS THE BEST?

Olivia: Let me lay the scene out for you: you’ve just awoken from a night of bountiful dreams of glory, and those have worn you out. You look to your side, awesome, a beautiful stranger is there. What do you need to get your day started after such a tiring night? Breakfast…the meal of winners. Breakfast is amazing on around twenty seven different levels, and you’re about to experience a good lot of them.

Craig: You know what breakfast says to me? “Hey! You’ve just woken up! You’re still half asleep and totally groggy! Let’s stuff your face until you want to vomit!” Who in the world wants to eat right after they wake up? Not to mention who in the world has time to eat breakfast in the morning? Dinner is by far the best meal of the day. Glorious meat-filled dinner!

Olivia: Sure, I see your point there. But it’s a terrible point, so I choose to look over it. Dinner is a meal you can have only once a day, it sucks. It’s the meal of losers. But breakfast is bountiful and also very versatile. Breakfast for dinner, delicious!!! IHOP and Waffle House have taken this to the max, wonderful, mystical, breakfast-based dining experiences! Dinner, well…you can get dinner anywhere. It’s not special.

Craig: Not special?! Christmas DINNER! Thanksgiving DINNER! Romantic DINNER for Valentines Day! (So I’ve heard!) I don’t hear of many people celebrating the holidays with a fantastic breakfast. “Hey, what are you guys doing for Memorial Day?” “Oh we’re going to take the boat out, shoot some fireworks, and then have some scrambled eggs.” Um no, that doesn’t happen. Because breakfast isn’t special enough for celebrations.

Olivia: Well I am sorry that your parents did not love you enough to make a nice breakfast on Christmas, the day of Jesus, where Jesus’s first meal was breakfast, where he, as a baby, because he is Jesus and can, said “Wow, breakfast kicks dinner’s ass, so, so much.”

Craig: Don’t try and spin the Bible’s words around to work in your favor! That is an abomination! Baby Jesus’ first meal was not breakfast, it was so completely and utterly dinner. The three Kings brought him frankincense and myrrh, which I’m pretty sure is aramaic for burgers and ribs. Those barn animals at the Nativity didn’t stand a chance!

Olivia: Fine, let’s suppose that you’re right about THAT. But hey, what was the meal that got those three Kings ready for their day of baby Jesus gift giving? Some hearty cornflakes at breakfast! Maybe some eggs, toast, I don’t know, the possibilities are endless. The fact of the matter is, without breakfast, no one can properly start their day, including Jesus.

Craig: You know when it’s really hot out? And they say you can fry an egg on the sidewalk? Well an egg would mean it’s breakfast right? And you know what place is REALLY hot? And where they must be frying loads of eggs on sidewalks? Hell. That’s right! Hell. Eggs, and therefore breakfast, is the food of Satan.

Olivia: Yeah, sure, and WHEN has that actually ever happened? And WHY would there be sidewalks in Hell? It’s Hell, Craig!!! You don’t walk a dog on a sidewalk in Hell!!! And how about in 300 (great movie, by the way) when Mr. Buff goes “Tonight…we dine…in HELL!!” What was that key word?? Ohhh HELL! Wait, I mean TONIGHT! Night is when you have dinner, dinner is Hell.

Craig: Don’t try and distract me with talk of 300 and computer generated abdominals! Of course they have sidewalks in Hell! Where else would Satan walk his three-headed dog, and not pick up after it? You know what else is amazing about dinner? It’s followed by dessert! Dessert is God’s way of saying, “Hey Handsome! Wasn’t that yummy?! Let me reward you with even more yumminess! Have some ice cream! Oh, and breakfast sucks!” That’s right. He says all that.

Olivia: I’d like some sort of documentation of God saying all of that, because the last thing God said to me about dessert was “Dessert makes my thighs blow UP! I cannot eat any of that Hot Fudge Cake, pass me some delcious pancakes though!” And really, I was like “Jesus, God! Pancakes make you fat too!” But then God was all “Ya, but breakfast is way better, so it’s totally worth it. Oh, and Dinner sucks!” So really, what you just said doesn’t check out at all…

Craig: Your face doesn’t check out! I’m sick and tired of your lies! The only good thing about breakfast is the maple syrup needed to cover up the taste of all the disgustingness. Dinner requires no such magic cover-up liquid! And let’s think about maple syrup for a second: Aunt Jemima and Mrs. Butterworth. Hmmm, why are you supporting a meal that upholds the sexist idea that women are supposed to be serving us? Why, Olivia? Why do you hate women?

Olivia: NO sir!!! I am sick and tired of YOUR LIES! Dinner requires no cover-up delicious liquid? How about gravy?!! Gravy has to help all kinds of dinner-disasters! And about me hating women, I LOVE women!! I AM a woman I love them so much! You, however, are not, therefore, are a sexist pig. Get a vagina, then accuse me of hating women.

Craig: I would get a vagina, but since they are God’s most disgusting creation, I will opt not to. And now that I think of it, you know what gets made in vaginas? Eggs. Yeah, kinda like the ones you eat for BREAKFAST!!!! Aw yeah! It all comes full circle! Hold on, I’ll let that blow your mind for a second.

Olivia: And you call ME the woman hater?! Fine, whatever. Let’s check out the facts: One cannot begin one’s day without a hearty breakfast in one’s belly. Breakfast is the meal Jesus craves, and if you hate breakfast, you are hating the Baby Jesus. Dinner is the meal of vagina haters, therefore a sexist meal, and probably unconstitutional in some way, if not every way.

Craig: There you go again! Taking a historical document and twisting it around for your own evil purposes! First the Bible! Then the Constitution! Soon you’ll be saying that The Cat in the Hat supports your breakfast dogma! Is no writing safe? Dinner is amazing because 1) It requires no magic cover-up juice, 2) Is followed by dessert, and 3) Doesn’t involve anything that comes out of a vagina. Dinner rules!

For more Puntabulous Counter Puntabulous Debates: CLICK HERE!

Time for another round of Puntabulous Counter Puntabulous! Craig and Olivia go head to head over one of society’s most important issues: Which fictional character has the best super powers?

Be warned: Some Heroes spoilers if you’re not caught up!

Craig: If I were to have someone’s super powers, it would totally be Nathan Petrelli’s from the TV show Heroes. I mean, come on! The ability to fly is TOTALLY the best super power in the world. Plus, if I were Nathan Petrelli, I’d be all suave/corporate business man who looks totally hot with his shirt off and gets to have sex with online porn stars.

Olivia: Forget that jerk, I’m all for Peter Petrelli! You think flying is fancy? Well Peter can fly too, along with anything else anyone he meets can do! Nathan is a terrible brother to poor sweet Peter, and totally cheats on his wife with your treasured online porn star. You are a sick man, Craig.

Craig: First off: Cute! We’re brothers! Second: Let’s focus less on the philandering, and more on the awesomeness of flying! Plus, Nathan isn’t invincible like Superman, all he can do is fly, which takes a lot of responsibility off of him. If a bad guy starts shooting a gun, he can be all like: “Don’t look at me, all I do is fly!” And then fly away. And clearly if I’m gonna have a super power, it’s not gonna be to help people, it’ll be to have fun. Which is more important. Note the lack of a question mark. Not a question, a statement.

Olivia: He WOULD say something like “Don’t look at me, all I do is fly!” And you know why? Bad person. Let’s look at Peter, hey, he just saved the world! Wow! That seems like something that anyone would do if given the chance, oh wait. I’m forgetting a certain Nathan Petrelli who tried to prevent Peter from saving the world, and, in fact, didn’t really care after he did. Oh, and what’s this I hear now from Jesus who is telling me? WOW! AND CLAIRE IS THE ILLEGITIMATE LOVE CHILD OF NATHAN? The same Nathan that didn’t really care if she died? Oops, that baby daddy messed up! But don’t look at him, all he can do is fly. Uncle Peter’s got cho back though.

Craig: Hmmm… Now that you say “Uncle Peter” it just makes that little flirtation they had going when she went to visit him in jail all the grosser. Plus, if I could fly, I wouldn’t need to drive anywhere anymore. Think of all the gas I’d be saving! That just goes to show how much I care about the environment! Does Peter care about the environment? No. His whining and complaining about not being able to control his powers sounds like a lot of hot air. Hot Air = Greenhouse Gases. Greenhouse Gases = Huge Hole in the Ozone Layer. Thanks a lot Peter! I hope he’s willing to pay for my SPF 5000 sun block!

Olivia: Peter WOULD be willing to pay for your sun block, that’s just the kind of person he is. And flirtation? No sir, that was the care and love of an uncle. And I noticed you have no immediate response to my pointing out of the fact that crappy Nathan was going to let his daughter die! You know who else doesn’t care if his daughter dies? Satan. Nathan = Satan. And oh! They rhyme! How cute!

Craig: Well I think we can both agree how cute we are. But! It’s not like Nathan knew Peter was going to save his daughter Claire. All he knew was crazy Peter wanted to go put himself in danger’s way. He was just trying to protect his little brother! He’s like a mama bear protecting her young. But a hot man mama bear who can fly! But you’ve failed to mention why Peter’s powers are so cool. What are they again? Super Mega Whinyness? Mighty Morphin Emo Hair?

Olivia: I will not agree on how cute we are for the simple reason of wanting to disagree with you. And yes, actually, Peter DOES have Mighty Morphin Emo Hair, and I think out of all the Emo Hairs, that is the best kind to have. Peter can fly, be invisible, paint the future, regenerate, read minds, and spontaneously combust. Peter could kick Nathan’s ass any day of the week, then fly away, get eaten by an eagle, regenerate his arm that was eaten by the eagle, turn invisible so that the eagle can’t see him, and then read the eagle’s mind for the heck of it. Twenty. Times. Cooler. Than. Stupid Nathan.

Craig: See, the problem with having too many powers is that people will start expecting too much from you. If you read one eagle’s mind, suddenly everyone will be coming to you asking to read their cat’s mind, or their dog’s mind. And then all of a sudden you’re the freaking pet psychic. And you’re on some Animal Planet show hosted by Mario Lopez. Yeah, real cool. Woosh! Woosh! What’s that? That’s me flying around all cool and stuff.

Olivia: Not impressed. I’m sorry, but Peter is too busy saving the world to even care about what pets are thinking. Last time I checked, he was partially invisible, no one can even find him. Woosh, Woosh! What’s that? Oh, it’s Nathan Petrelli being a jerk and associating with mobsters or something, whoever Linderman is. Oh, stab, stab! What’s that? Nathan getting killed. Snap, Crackle, and POP sir!

Craig: If Nathan associates with mobsters, I’m sure it’s just for the benefit of his family and/or cleaning up after his crazy brother Peter’s public displays of lunacy. Nathan has the coolest powers because 1) He can fly, 2) He can ONLY fly and how can anyone be expected to save the world when all they can do is fly, so he can spend less time saving the world and more time having fun and flying, and 3) Who said having the coolest powers had anything to do with being a good person?

Olivia: Peter is about twenty six times cooler and more amazing that Nathan. And more hardcore. Peter absorbs powers, and not in a hobo way. Peter is way nicer than Nathan, more heroic, and saved Nathan’s daughter, how’s that for a slice of fried genius?! And as you pointed out, Peter has Mighty Morphin Emo Hair, and I like that. There’s no Average Joe haircut there, Nathan. Peter’s an individual, and noble. So there, Good day, Sir.

In today’s edition of Puntabulous-Counter-Puntabulous, Craig and Olivia go head to head over this seasons most important question. Which Christmas Carol is the best?

Olivia: The Twelve Days of Christmas is indubitably the BEST Christmas song there is. It covers everything Christmas related, and is sung to a snappy tune. It’s not just a short, sissy Christmas song either, it’s long! To sing it takes mad skill.

Craig: Are you kidding me!? Anyone in their right mind knows that The Little Drummer Boy is by FAR the best Christmas Carol. If by “snappy” you mean that the listener will “want to snap their head off out of boredom because the song is so freaking long and repetitive” then I would have to agree, your choice is snappy indeed.

Olivia: Little Drummer Boy?! Are you serious!!?? The singer of the song has to sing the drumming! That’s cheap! Rum bum bum BUM!? Rum bum bum suck is more like it! The Twelve Days of Christmas has something for everyone, my favorite, “fiiiive golden rings.” Every sane person loves to sing that part. I assume that since you’d want to snap your head off while listening to The Twelve Days of Christmas I will assume you are a crazy person. I can’t take your word for anything.

Craig: Oh. My. God. Not only is that song the worst, but that verse is even worser! Five Golden Rings! That is the point of the song where everyone who sings it, actually THINKS they can sing, and they accentuate, exagerate, elongate and any other “ates” out there because they think they are actually good singers! The Little Drummer boy is about a poor little boy who can’t afford to get Baby Jesus any gold, frankincense, or mir and can only give him the music from his drum. Anyone who doesn’t love that hates poor people and Baby Jesus.

Olivia: Sounds like something a crazy person would say to me. Twelve days of Christmas is about TRUE LOVE! Last time I checked, true love conquers all. Do I even need to keep debating? Yes, yes I do. But not because I didn’t make the greatest point ever there, but because I wish to verbally abuse you. Check it out: geese a-laying? maids a-milking? That’s right, you have eggs and milk from that song, you won’t go hungry. Poor little drummer boy can’t get you food, only shitty drumming, he’s poor!

Craig: It would seem that my suspicions are correct. You DO hate poor people. Poor children even! This “true love” that’s always sending crap to the singers house must be like a gazillionaire or something, which I suppose is the only reason why you love it so much. You love money! If this really were “true love” as you say, then why does the person need to buy their love with all those ridiculous presents? Pa Rum Pum Pum Pum comes from the heart, directly through my soul and into the heart of Baby Jesus.

Olivia: I call it like I see it. I do love money, because I could buy Baby Jesus presents if I had to, I wouldn’t have to go through the town drumming and waking everyone up, including Baby Jesus who was newly born and probably taking a nap!! Baby Jesus hates random drumming! But he loves two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

Craig: Actually, there was no one in the vicinity of the exquisitely beautiful drumming because money hungry monsters such as yourself wouldn’t give Baby Jesus’ parental units a room in any of the inns because they were broke! So they were in the ass crack of Bethlehem, where only themselves and farm animals were around to appreciate such fine drumming. Also, Baby Jesus wasn’t napping because there was too much saving-the-world to do. I’m pretty sure the Bible says that the drumming acted as his “thinkin’ music”.

Olivia: Your sacreligious defense of The Little Drummer Boy makes me throw up in my mouth! I’m relatively sure now that the Little Drummer Boy was probably the Antichrist anyway, who else would drum to wake up little Baby Jesus who was trying to take a nap before saving the world, etc.?? The Twelve Days of Christmas didn’t wake up Baby Jesus! It’s about presents! Who doesn’t love presents!? Sinners! That’s who! You know what else sinners like? Little Drummer Boys.

Craig: You’re right. The Twelve Days of Christmas didn’t wake up Baby Jesus, or anyone for that matter because it is the most boring Christmas Carol in the whole wide world. It doesn’t wake people up, it puts them to sleep! Eleven Pipers Piping! Ten Lords a Leaping! Nine Ladies blah biddy blah blah zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Wait. What was that? The gentle drumming of a poor little orphan boy? I’m suddenly awake and interested again! Yay for little boys!

Olivia: I beg to diffa. (Like on American Idol.) Twelve Days of Christmas or one stupid drumming idiot child that wakes up towns and Baby Jesus and whom Jesus hates. If you don’t agree with me on this one, Jesus hates you also. And so do I. Twelve Days of Christmas has something for everyone!!! Ten Lords a Leaping! I LOVE lords! I love birds in trees! And so does God.

Craig: That’s it! I couldn’t figure out who you reminded me of, but your American Idol reference totally jogged my memory! You’re like Paula Abdul! You have no idea what you’re talking about! The Little Drummer Boy is the best because it proves that you don’t have to be rich, to be my messiah. And unless these Lords are leaping directly into my lap, I’m afraid that I don’t give a damn about them. Ladies Dancing? Nope! Not interested! Oh, and a partridge in a pear tree? Sorry! Return to sender!

Once again, Puntabulous goes head-to-head regarding some serious issues!

In today’s edition, we decide which Disney Princess is the biggest Hoochie Mama.

Craig: Although it is painfully obvious, I would like to declare what everyone around the world already knows: Princess Ariel from The Little Mermaid is the biggest cartoon hoochie mama to have ever been drawn.

Olivia: As if, Craig. As…if. Painfully obvious my bum, the only thing painful about it is how wrong you are. The biggest hoochie mama among the Disney Princesses is, of course, Cinderella from Cinderella.

Craig: Pa-sha! Right! Cinderella is a southern belle compared to Ariel! (hey that rhymes!) At least Cinderella has the decency to wear clothes. Ariel is all hooched out in those purple clams that hardly cover up those ghetto jubblies of hers. Oh and memo to Ariel: a fish tale does NOT constitute pants. She should be ashamed of herself!

Olivia: Uh, Hello?! Let me crack an egg of knowlege over your head; Cinderella is obviously a prostitute, and her “step-mother” is obviously her pimp. That’s why she wouldn’t let her go to the ball, because she already had two (the “step-sisters”) hookers workin’ the ball! Cinderella was the pretty whore, and would detract business from the other two.

Craig: At least Cinderella was hanging out with other women! Ariel didn’t want any part of that homoerotic burlesque show King Triton passed off as his daughters performing! This Ariel hoochie wanted a show of her own, so she insisted on surrounding herself with guys, or as I like to call them (flavas of the sea). Let’s see: Flounder: Guy; Sebastian: Guy; Scuttle: Guy. Sensing a pattern here?

Olivia: Fine, let’s see if you can wrap your mind around this one: Glass Slipper=sex. Cinderella is easy, she puts out on the first date. The Prince got her glass slipper, and it was so good he had to find her.

Craig: Not only has my mind been wrapped by this, but it has also been bored and put to sleep by this. You know what’s more interesting than far-fetched sexual metaphors? Bestiality. That’s right. Bestiality. Ariel duped Prince Eric into having sex with a half human half fish. Half fish still equals whole bestiality!

Olivia: Far-fetched my ass, your face is far-fetched! Ariel was being totally forced to get all up on Prince Eric, duh. Ursula was going to take her soul if she couldn’t get him to fall in love with her! What would you do in a situation like that!? Cinderella just had to be back by midnight, her curfew, obviously. But that skank couldn’t even do that, she was busy getting hot and heavy with Prince Charming. And he was “charming” her dress right off, but she’s easy, so it wasn’t that hard for him.

Craig: I think you mean to say that my face is fetching. But I’ll let that slight miscommunication slide this time. What I can’t let slide is your slandering of poor, sweet, gentle, Cinderella. We all know that Cinderella was the poor unsuspecting victim of a rufie, slipped to her by Prince “Charming”. Ariel is anything but a victim. She stanks of fish and is in a constant state of moistness. I can only imaging the diseases that awaited Prince Eric on their wedding night.

Olivia: Dear sir, I cannot believe YOUR slander of MY slander of that whore, Cinderella. First of all, she lives in an attic and is friends with mice, mice carry loads of diseases, ie, bubonic plague? Exactly. Ariel is half fish, and hangs out with sea creatures, nothing weird there! And wedding night disease? If she’s such a skank then there’d be some pre-wedding night Dermocystidium (a fish disease that leaves lesions on fish).

Craig: Don’t try and confuse matters with your slanderous slander of my counter slander! The facts remain, Ariel is the biggest hoochie mama going. Let’s go down the facts: 1) She hardly fits her clams into her clams. 2) She duped Prince Eric into peforming Bestiality. We all know one thing leads to another! What next? Duping him into gay marriage!? 3) Her constant smell of the sea. Something smells fishy in the house of Disney! And it’s coming from between Ariel’s fins!

Olivia: You hooligan, you have got to be taking crazy pills. Let’s review: Cinderella lets her glass slipper just fall off for anyone, Cinderella is a hooker, Cinderella has mice for friends because she has so many diseases those are the only friends she can get. Ariel was a forced whore, therefore, ruling her out of the whoriness. Cinderella conquers the hoochie mama battle.

Welcome to another edition of Puntabulous-Counter-Puntabulous! In today’s edition, Craig and Olivia go head to head over one of the most important issues facing our times. Who is the best disgustingly skinny celebrity?

Here we go!

Olivia: As all of the world knows, Nicole Richie is the greatest star of our time. She is not only talented, but is an inspiration to all young girls for how to keep your stick-like figure!

Craig: I’m afraid I’m going to have to disagree. Actually no, I’m not so afraid. I’m for Kate Bosworth all the way. She’s like the dark horse of the skinny actress competition. No one expects it from her. She’s Kate Bosworth after all! She was in Blue Crush! But have you seen her lately? Wham! Disgusting!

Olivia: You must be joking dearest Craig. Nicole Richie was the original skinny celeb. Her boobs are melting away, THAT’S skinny! And she’s quite a joker, after being pointed out as super-skinny, she and her dear pal Lindsey Lohan joked about it on MTV. Oh, Nicole, you slay me!

Craig: What does being the original have to do about being the best? Was Richard Harris a better Dumbledore than Michael Gambon? Was Farrah Fawcett a better Charlie’s Angel than Drew Barrymore? Was Optimus Prime a better Autobot leader than Hot Rod? Okay, maybe that last one is a bad example. But the case remains, being the original does not equal being the best.

Olivia: Let’s go over some amazing originals followed by total crap. Original M&M’s, followed by crap crispy ones. Original Cap’n Crunch, followed by nasty crap Crunch Berries. The Orignal All-American Rejects album followed by the okay Move Along album but the first album was way better. Oh, and Nicole Richie followed by that whore Kate Bosworth. Knock-off.

Craig: First off, Crunch Berries is delicious. Are delicious? I’m not sure. Secondly, why the hell is Nichole Richie famous anyway? She contributes absolutely nothing to society. Oh wait, I take that back, she did appear in episodes of “8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter” and “Eve”. So she actually contributes negatively to society. Kate Bosworth was Lois Lane for goodness sakes! And not it that Goes-Psycho-in-a-Suburban-Community-Margot-Kidder way either!

Olivia: This is not a Crunch Berry Debate Craigory, this is a skinny celeb debate! Nicole Richie put herself into the shoes of others in multiple seasons of “The Simple Life.” Has effing Kate Bosworth done that?! No, no she has not. She parades around all “Ohhhh, I’m Kate Bosworth, I’m SO skinny! Look! I’m Lois Lane too! Weee!” Like a crazy person! Kate Bosworth=crazy person.

Craig: Let’s see, the first season of “The Simple Life” was funny, while the other two seasons were not. Oh wait, Nicole Richie got skinner with every season! Nicole Richie was not skinny when the good season of “The Simple Life” aired, making your point moot. But it appears as though you are not going to give up on this. So I see I need to bring out the big guns! Kate Bosworth has two different color eyes! Eyes! Two different colors! Bang! Bang!

Olivia: Oh yeah? Well Nicole Richie used to be a man! A MAN! That’s right! He then decided to be a feminist, but had to be a woman to do so! He/She went THAT far to put herself into the shoes of another! Then she wanted to see how the children affected by famine in Africa felt! BANG BANG Craig! What now!!!???

Craig: Yeah! Well one time! Kate Bosworth pretended to work as a cashier! To see how it feels to work her life away in front of a cash register! But then she won a contest to go on a date with this really hot celebrity that she was totally crushing on! But he turned out to be a jerk and she ended up with Topher Grace instead. That was totally awesome! So Kate does her fair share of charity work! I mean, who else is gonna dump Josh Duhamel for Topher Grace!

Olivia: Hmm, let’s see famine… cashier…. famine… cashier… FAMINE! Nicole Richie totally reinvented herself in the name of starving children. She even took out her extensions to show that she meant business. And she’s adopted, so she started on her journey to see what it’s like in others’ shoes very early, she wanted to see what it was like to be adopted by a music sensation! Did your precious Kate start that early? No sir…

Craig: The only reason Nicole Richie is so interested in starving children is because SHE IS A STARVING CHILD! Oh wait, so is Kate Bosworth. Moving on, you know the old saying, “Don’t judge a book by it’s cover”? I couldn’t agree more. Instead, we should judge people upon the people they date. Let’s see, Kate Bosworth dated Orlando Bloom. Orlando Bloom! Legolas for fucks sake! Nicole dated DJ AM. Who? Yeah, exactly!

Olivia: Whatev. Nicole Richie could kick Kate Bosworth’s ass. Or the bone that’s in the place of her ass, you know, because they’re so skinny and all. Nicole Richie is skinnier, more charitable, more understanding, and all in all better than stupid Kate Bosworth. Seriously, who has a name like BOSWORTH! She’s not Bos-Worth my time.

Craig: Oh please! Kate Bosworth is courageous (see Superman Returns), adorable (see Win a Date with Tad Hamilton), and tough-as-nails (see Blue Crush). Nicole Richie is moronic (see The Simple Life), idiotic (see The Simple Life), and insect-like (see her anytime). Besides, the only thing Nicole Richie could do to hurt someone is ask them to take her seriously.

Welcome to the first of many Puntabulous Counter Puntabulous Debates!

In today’s furious debate, Craig and Olivia go head to head over the age old question: “Which is the best color gummi bear?”

Craig: It is a known fact throughout the vast reaches of the universe (which formed a mere 6,000 years ago) that green is the best color gummi bear.

Olivia: No, dear Craig, you are completely and utterly wrong. Everyone knows that since the beginning of time the red gummi bear has reigned supreme. There are records of Jesus, dinosaurs, and William Shatner all affirming this fact.

Craig: Oh Olivia, so young, so naive. While it looks as though William Shatner has had his fair share of gummi bears I cannot take the word of a made-up species conceived by left wing liberal crazies as an attempt bring society further away from God. Besides, green is the color of the Incredible Hulk, and HULK SMASH RED GUMMI BEARS! RAARARAARRR!

Olivia: Silly Craig, you MUST know that not only did the liberal wackos make up these “dinosaurs” but also the Incredible Hulk to represent freedom of religion. You see, the Hulk has the freedom to smash, crush, and generally mess things up, just as religions other than those who fear the almighty God, are obviously terrorists, hate freedom, and generally enjoy bombing things. This is a prime example of why green, the color of that wacky green party, is a worthless gummi bear. Red represents America, and Freedom, dear sir. Do you hate freedom?

Craig: How dare you imply that I hate freedom! I adore freedom! If freedom were a really hot guy, I would make out with him! That’s why I believe we all have the freedom to pick our favorite gummi bear flavor. (But only if it’s green.) Now consider this: When teachers grade papers, they mark it up in evil red ink. Wrong Answers = Red; Red = Evil; Evil = Wrong Answer; Wrong Answer = Red Gummi Bear.

Olivia: You must remember though that you only get bad red ink marks when you get a question wrong. If you get a question wrong, you are uneducated and therefore have nothing to contribute to society. If you hate red marks and take it out on gummi bears, you are a clear failure in life. Failures in life like green gummi bears.

Craig: Oh yes, green is certainly the color of failure. Let’s count all the other wonderful things that are green shall we? Plants: the givers of precious oxygen; Christmas Trees: the givers of Christmas presents; Grass: the givers of soft lawns. What’s red you ask? Bloody stumps of flesh after a shark attack. That’s just disgusting.

Olivia: See?! You have even admitted that green is, in fact, the color of failure. Not only failure, but gangrene, vomit, sometimes feces, and germs. Do you like germs? Green is also an eye color, do you want to eat someone’s eye? Red is the color of love, anyone with a heart would love red gummi bears.

Craig: Actually I do like germs. They build up anti-bodies and make my immunity stronger. So thank you green gummi bears, thank you for giving me anti-bodies and making me a healthier and stronger human being. The only thing I’ve gotten from red gummi bears is a broken heart. And crabs.

Olivia: So this hatred of red gummi bears is personal then? You say they gave you a broken heart, nothing you say can be trusted now. You cannot take part in a serious gummi bear debate with your personal life stuck right there in the middle of it! Green gummi bears are for those who are vain, envy others, and love money more than Jesus. Good job, Jesus hater.

Craig: How dare you imply that I hate Jesus! I adore Jesus! If Jesus were a really hot guy, I would make out with him! Plus, how could I be vain AND envy others? I may be vain, but the only other person I envy is myself. And what’s so bad about money? Maybe if Jesus had more money he’d be able to afford something other than sandals and an old robe. CAJBFFAEAE: Craig and Jesus, Best Friends Forever, And Eva, And Eva.

Olivia: I see you have no more reasons as to why green gummi bears are better than red! Shall I consider this a surrender? Or that I have beaten you with my red gummi bear intellect? Red is the color of blood, which flows to my brain in order to provide oxygen through osmosis as well as cell respiration. This in turn makes my brain function highly for heated debates such as this one.

Craig: Let’s weigh the evidence, shall we? Green = 1) Money, 2) Anti-body building germs, 3) The Incredible Hulk. What do all these things have in common? Success. Red = 1) Bloody stumps of flesh after a shark attack, 2) Bloody stumps of flesh after a bear attack, 3) Bloody stumps of flesh after a wild boar attack. What do all these things have in common? Failure. If you want to be a failure, then by all means, eat red gummi bears. But don’t come crawling to me asking me to donate one of my limbs to you. Because I won’t. I’ll be too busy rolling around naked in an anti-body infested bed of 100 dollar bills with Eric Bana. I rest my case.

Olivia: Although I believe the greatness of red gummi bears speaks for itself, I will provide a review of the reasons why they are so great. Shatner loves them, George W Bush loves them (and may I add he has NEVER been wrong about anything), and Jesus loves them. They are the gummi bear of freedom, you commy! Viva la red gummi bears! Red=Love. You will have no love in your life if you like nasty crap green gummi bears. None! I will have SO much love! Callum Blue, here I come. And you know why? Red gummi bears.