The Reg-O-Meter©—Week Ending April 5

Gordon Dillow totally calls us out in his column. The graph in question, with translations:

“And then there were the blog comments from a certain Orange County ‘alternative’ weekly newspaper . . .”
[Translation: OC Weekly, though if I have to actually say/write their name, I’ll burst into flames/lose bowel control/grow hair.]

“. . .whose writers routinely claim that any columns I write about guns—or cops or the military or whatever—are rife with what they call ‘homoeroticism.’”
[Translation: Uniform fetishes and phallic symbols? Hot.]

“Of course, I'm just a simple country boy . . .”
[Translation: You know, like the gun-toting hillbillies in Deliverance.]

“. . . so I'm not sure exactly what that means . . .”
[Translation: Those hogs and sheep sure are purty-lookin’.]

“. . . but I think they're saying that I . . . that I'm a . . . well, I think they're suggesting that I'm playing for the other team. And after a lifetime of loyal service . . .”
[Translation: The sores went away after a couple weeks.]

“. . . to my naturally assigned side, you can imagine what a terrible shock this alleged revelation is to me.”
[Translation: I’m hung like a Ken doll.]

•The Reg is holding a contest. Here's the extremely overexcited copy as printed in today's ish, scrawled with all the enthusiasm of someone whose lifelong dream is to snag that coveted Associate of the Week parking space: “The game is simple. You take a cat photo. You upload it. You vote for the coolest cat. Then, at the end of it all, we'll print some cat photos in the paper.” Craaaazy!

•How hepped up on ‘roids are readers of the Reggie’s sports pages? (And yes, there really are words in the sports pages—it’s those things that decorate the section’s hooker ads). A reader poll asks “Who will win the NL West this season?”—and 32 percent pick the Barry Bonds-less Giants. Elsewhere in sports today, a bevy of homoerotic photos (strangely, none of which depict Gordon Dillow in nipple clips or riding a butt plug). Really—there’s Dodger Jeff Kent copping a feel of Andruw Jones' left titty; there’s Angel Mike Napoli's head shoved up between the legs of the Twins' Adam Everett; and there’s a couple of UC Irvine baseball players acting out some photo editor's nude-Jello-wrestling fantasy.

Frank Mickadeit writes today's column about Carm's Coneys in Costa Mesa. Gee, I wonder what could've given him that idea?

•Zany old Kimberly Edds’ question of the day (which she asks herself, then answers) in her “Safety” column: “How can I survive being kidnapped?” And isn’t that something we all worry about whenever we’re in Brea?

•Frothy-mouthed Reggie loyalist Shari Carter of Orange can patronize her favorite Home Depot once again, and she has Orange mayor Carolyn Cavecche to thank. What did the mayor do for Carter? Did she donate a kidney so Carter could live? Did she build Carter a house with her huge man-hands? Did she offer to chauffer her around on a frenzied Orange Circle antique-buying spree? Hells no!
“Mayor Cavecche . . . did our town a great service when she helped us move day laborers off our streets: I once again can go to Home Depot. Thanks, Mayor Cavecche.”

Letter of the Week: “. . . the life-or-death issue of abortion is a social suicide far more devastating to our nation than the entire history of slavery . . .” Thank you, Charles N. Marrelli of Irvine!

•Excerpt from a Barry Koltnow interview with actor Abigail Breslin, even though, judging from all the bold type, it appears that Barry did most of the talking. Some of Koltnow’s Mike-Wallace-in-his-prime attack-dog interviewing technique:

Koltnow: Do you have any pets?
Breslin: I have two dogs, two cats and a turtle.
Koltnow: What kind of dogs?
Breslin: German shepherd and dachshund.
Koltnow: What kind of cats?
Breslin: Siberians.
Koltnow: What kind of turtle?
Breslin: Russian tortoise.

Fuck yeah, Barry! Make the little bitch sweat! Or just do everyone a favor and take the next buyout, wouldya?

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