If you talked to them, you'd find out that I could be a real bastard in the workplace. Some people at my last job were apparently afraid to talk to me when I thought they'd messed up, or at all. I made at least one producer at the Sesame Street website cry. Mind you, I'm not proud of this. No, wait, actually I am.

Over the past week or so, I've watched the recent film In the Loop three times on DVD. Besides its scathing, cynical view of the political process that lubricated our way into Iraq, I can't get enough of Malcolm Tucker, the angry, profane press secretary who never encountered a functionary he couldn't intimidate or a problem he couldn't spin his way out of. I want to be Malcolm Tucker, or at least be that articulate when I'm enraged.

Tucker, as played by Peter Capaldi, is also a character on the BBC comedy series The Thick of It. That's the source of the short video clip below (decidedly NSFW in its language), which pretty well sums up the Tucker philosophy.

I think you'll agree, there's a little bit of Malcolm Tucker in all of us.

Hey, look! There really is a tea towel with that embroidered on it:

Fuckity bye.

"Hello, and what seems to be the problem with your 1-800-FLOWERS online order, sir?"

"Well, I'm not really sure. All the voicemail told me was there was a problem and I should call."

"All right, sir, I can help you with that. Let me just look up your order. One moment."

"Thank you."

"Okay, sir, um, well, it seems the problem is that the florist can't print that word on the card."

"Ah, makes sense, okay, I see."

"Is there, um, something we can change that word to, sir?"

"Well, how about just 'mothers'? Will that work?"

"Yes, sir, 'mothers' will work fine. Let me just make that change. We'll get this back to the florist and get your order out right away."

"Thank you very much."

"Thank you for using 1-800-FLOWERS, sir. Have a nice day."

Shit piss fuck cunt cocksucker motherfucker tits.

Not to be a stick in the mud, but just because "fuck" and "shit" are bleeped out doesn't necessarily mean a song is "clean."

I've always been fascinated by the continuum where language, thought, and sensation intertwine, and how it's possible for them together to create in essence a subjective reality. For instance, how is it that words alone, spoken in a movie like The Aristocrats, can induce such phyiscal spasms of nausea?

This is not to criticize The Aristcrats, a movie I thoroughly enjoyed, and which had me laughing until, in pain, I couldn't catch my breath. If I didn't already love Bob Saget after his guest appearance on Entourage, his rendition of the joke would have made me a convert. It certainly made me forget Full House. And Gilbert Gottfried. I never thought I'd say this, but damn.

Not Howie Mandel, though. That guy's just not funny, even with a shaved head.