A lot of people don’t like to think about what would happen if they died. How they’d be remembered, celebrated, or honored. But, for some reason, I’ve thought about this.  So, here is how I envision my funeral. Discalimer: Before I get any messages about my well-being, I’m fine, and this is a goof. Now, let’s all have a laugh together, shall we? *** A solemn crowd waits inside the Wells Fargo Center which has been rented out for the occasion. The occasion in question is my death; brought about by a bizarre gardening accident, not unlike former-Spinal Tap drummer,  John "Stumpy" Pepys.  The authorities said that it's best left unsolved. The solemnness that permeates the crowd is broken by a rumbling from within the bowels of the arena. A quartet of Budweiser Clydesdales pull my casket onstage. The casket is opened… But, it is empty. A hush falls over the crowd.  Who forgot to put Matt’s body in the casket? They had one job, for th

I've spent too much time on this question (honestly, any time is too much), but I think it's important that we arrive at a definitive answer. Who would win in a fight between Bigfoot and The Loch Ness Monster? I can't be alone in wondering this. If it were available on Pay-Per-View, you'd order it in a second without looking at the price (which would probably be astronomical) and invite all your friends. First, we must establish ground rules. I've thought a lot about what sort of venue the fight would have to take place in. Home field advantage is off the table. Everyone knows that Bigfoots can't swim, and Ol' Nessie would be a sitting duck in the mountainous terrain of the Pacific Northwest. It wouldn't be a fun fight if Bigfoot drowned immediately or if The Loch Ness Monster got KO'd because she couldn't drag her giant body over a log. We need a neutral site that would not give an unfair advantage to either combatant. I'm thin

Betrayal hurts, especially when it's someone, or something, you thought was on your side. I had that happen over the weekend, and I'm still reeling. Let's rewind. I started growing a beard the second I could because let's face it, I have a really dumb head. It's big and blocky, with a jawline that isn't so much chiseled out of stone as it is made from Play-Doh, At some point I realized that you could use a beard and the wonders of illusion (h/t Doug Henning) to make people think that you have a regularly shaped human head. This was not an endeavor I would undertake alone. I had a partner on this journey: a beard trimmer. For some reason, one of the best ways to make a beard grow is by trimming it. Think about that for a second.  To make something grow you have to cut it. Weird, right? We should have the scientists take a break from trying to cure cancer or keeping the world from melting to figure that out. My beard trimmer was my pal and helped me

I really can't believe it's taken me this long to write about my favorite family (except mine of course... maybe). I love The Simpsons. Anyone that knows me to pretty much any degree is well aware of this. If there's an anecdote told in my presence, more often than not, it's followed up by me chiming in with, "That's like on this one episode of The Simpsons where..." For Simpsons fans like myself, there is perhaps no better time of year than Halloween, because it means a new addition to the esteemed annals of the "Treehouse of Horror" series. Even better, the old episodes are played ad nauseam throughout the month of October. With this year marking the premier of "Treehouse of Horror XXX ," (coincidentally, it will be episode #666)   it means that there will now be 90 individual "Treehouse" segments. With that in mind, I've decided that I needed to sift through the 30 years of "Treehouse of Horror" t

I'm looking forward to Halloween SZN. The weather cools off, hockey is in full swing, and every channel is playing your favorite horror movies. It's fun, but the prospect of partaking in one of the hallmark Halloween activities still fills me with dread to this day: the walk-through haunted house. Let's rewind to my youth for a second. As a li'l fella, I wasn't a fan of Halloween. You see, I was a very spiritual young man who did not want any part of a satanic/pagan ritual like Halloween, with its roots stretching back to the Gaelic ritual of Samhain... ...just kidding. I was a total pussy who was scared of everything. Being dragged shopping from Labor Day until the calendar flipped to November was an utter nightmare for me. I would circumnavigate an entire store to avoid the Halloween aisle. Plastic skeletons, masks, and pumpkins with maniacal laughs lined those shelves and I wanted no part of it. As I got older, I warmed up to Halloween and now