The War Against Hobo Spiders

Yeah. Spokane is smoky right now. I get that. It’s horrible. It’s not fun.

But I’ve already solved that problem with Cory’s Clean Air in a Jar!

We have more important things to worry about right now: A war.

Not a war with North Korea. A war that rages on every year around this time.

*Lights up a cigarette and slowly takes a drag…*

A war with the Hobo Spiders.

The other night, I’m watching some television and my trusty bloodhound, Georgia, is on the floor when suddenly, she jumps up like she’s just been shocked with a cattle prod and runs across the room, seemingly chasing something.

It freaked me out, but then I see her start to bat at and play with something. What was it?

I walked over there and see she’s playing with a no good, dirty rotten, worthless, creepy crawly, overly aggressive, serving absolutely no function or purpose on this earth other than to give me nightmares, stupid, jerk hobo spider!

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love all living creatures on this beautiful planet with a few exceptions, hobo spiders being one of them.

Other spiders, I’m OK with. I’ve adopted a “you stay away from me and out of sight, then I saw live and let live.”

These hobo spiders, however, they don’t even make an attempt to co-exist! They come in your house, uninvited, and make themselves at home while they look for a mate to make other worthless spiders with.

They’ll even actively seek you out and pick a fight.

In my youth, I would’ve been a little less worried about this, but I have a wife and a new child to protect.

So I laid some traps for these monsters around my house, using things I know hobo spiders like in an effort to bait them into certain death.

For instance, in this trap, I’ve cleverly disguised it at a music venue, featuring the kind of music something that sucks as bad as a hobo spider probably likes:

NICKELBACK
So far, they’ve avoided this one.  Even hobo spiders have better taste in music than my friend Nichole Mischke. 

This trap I disguised as a restaurant featuring “Uh-oh Spaghetti-Os Saturdays,” because
who doesn’t like Spaghetti-Os? Hobo spiders apparently. Empty.

SPAGHETTIOS

I also tried a sports bar featuring the expensive NFL Sunday Ticket from DirecTV.

HANGOUT

I might have jumped the gun on this one because obviously the season hasn’t started yet, so the hobos know this one is a fake. I’ll let you know how it does after this Sunday.

But there’s one trap, one establishment that seems to be having success, and it makes sense because hobo spiders are free-loading cheapskates: Free beer.

FREE BEER
Look at that! There’s two of them in there! Two of them who walked in and expected to get something for nothing, and instead they got got!

Here are all of the traps I’ve tried:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Smoky Spokane Got You Down? Here’s the Answer to Your Pollution Problems

It’s actually been a pretty good year for wildfires in Washington, at least by comparison to years past (knock on wood).

We have a few wildfires burning in our state, but the Evergreen State has largely become the Smoke State in the last few weeks thanks to fires burning in Canada.

The result for us in Spokane has been some of the worst air quality in the nation. Literally. The Spokane area has been ranked as the 2nd worst air quality in the United States, second only to San Bernardino, California.

Clean, breathable air has been hard to come by in the past few weeks in the Inland Northwest. Well, necessity is the mother of invention, so… I have the solution.

Here you go.

(Potential investors feel free to contact me.)

Coffee and Rabies, Sheriffs and Squirrels

This is a true story. The events depicted in this film took place in Idaho in 2017. At the request of the survivors, the names have been changed. Out of respect for the dead, the rest has been told exactly as it occurred.

The coffee was lukewarm, but the waitress was on her way back to freshen it up. Idaho Sheriff Clint McGovern peeled back the second page of his newspaper to make sure she didn’t overfill it this time.

“Room for cream, Sheriff?” she asked.

“Now wait. Take a look at that cup, darling. Does that look like black coffee to you?” he asked.

“No. Looks like you dumped a whole truck full of cream in it last time,” she eagerly replied.

“Well, then. You just answered your own question, didn’t you?” Sheriff McGovern sarcastically laid on as thick as the cream he put in his coffee..

“How’s the wife?” the waitress innocently asked.

Contemplating if he wanted to get into the specifics of his broken, and now ended marriage as seen on page 9 of the local paper under the classified section, McGovern simply raised up his ringless finger and said, “Couldn’t be better.”

The joke was lost on the waitress, who simply smiled and moved on to the next cup of coffee sitting in front of a truck driver down the bar.

On the front page of the paper was the news everyone in the small town couldn’t stop talking about.

“Rabid Squirrel Attacks in Park”

Sheriff McGovern didn’t even read the article. He took the report. He responded to the scene. He knew who he was looking for. Wasn’t confident he was going to find him, but he knew.

Plus, he didn’t trust the media anyways.

“They’ll screw this one up,” he mumbled under his breath when he picked it up on his way into the diner.

The woman said a “rabid” squirrel attacked her and her child. First, the squirrel went after the child and then after the mother when she tried to intervene. Not much to screw up, but Sheriff McGovern was confident they would.

Most times when a squirrel attack was reported, Sheriff McGovern paid it no mind.

“You know how many squirrels are out there? And they all look alike!” he’d tell his wife when she asked why he didn’t even bother.

But based on the description, Sheriff McGovern knew who he was looking for.

You see, there aren’t too many one-eyed rabid squirrels in the small mountain town.

This particular assault could’ve only been one squirrel: Jesper Higgins.

Jesper had a rough life. A life of crime and violence. You don’t live a life like that and still have both eyes.

Jesper lost one eye fighting another squirrel to win the favor of a special lady. He lost. Not just his eye, but his woman.

So he turned to the bottle. Then to the hard drugs. One night he shared one of his needles with a bat doing heroin. Rabies came next.

Jesper supported his black tar habit by burglarizing other squirrel dens of acorns and precious milk jug lids (squirrels love plastic milk jug lids). Sure, he got arrested multiple times, but you know the system. Overcrowded squirrel jails have no room for petty squirrel thieves and junkies.

Jesper knew it and Sheriff McGovern despised it.

Quickly back out on the street, Jeper finally crossed paths with the wrong marmot and ended up doing serious time in the clink for “Gopherslaughter” while defending himself in a bar fight. It wasn’t murder, but Jesper did 7 years (which is only like 2 weeks in squirrel years), and got help while inside. He got proper treatment for his rabies. He got clean and came out refreshed and ready for a new life.

Jesper even fell in love with one of the squirrel prison guards. A pretty squirrel named Marci Bellatone. Marci was divorced and already had 12 litters from 11 different squirrels, but she cleaned up her act too and wanted nothing more than to start a new life with her new man, Jesper.

Things were going good for a while. Jesper found a job working in the nut factory and Marci quit her job at the prison for a job at a salon closer to home.

But one day Jesper got invited out to the chestnut bar by his buddies at the nut factory.

“Hey slick,” Jesper said to his best friend at the factory, Kevin Huffinfiggen. “We’re heading out to grab some chestnuts. You want to come?”

“No, man. But thanks. I gotta get home and move acorns from one side of my living to another four times,” Kevin replied.

“Important work there, man. You need any help?” Jesper offered.

“I’m good. Thanks.” Kevin said, a bit apprehensively.

Jesper let Marci know he’d be a little late and this is where things took a turn for the worse.

Things were going great at The ‘Munk, the local pub next to the the nut factory. Drinks and laughs were flowing, good times were being had by all. Even the arrival of a barn swallow couldn’t keep the nut factory boys from having a good time. They hated barn swallows, but they loved getting squirrel drunk more.

But Jesper had a few too many and too fast. He began to feel a bit under the weather and told his buddies he was heading home.

“Damn,” he said looking at his moped. “I can’t drive that home.”

It was a good call because Jesper was beginning to wonder why he now had two mopeds.

“Better walk,” he decided.

As stumbled up to his treehouse door, he tried the knob. It was locked.

“Weird,” he thought to himself.

He pulled out his keys. Fumbled with them before they dropped. As he bent down to pick them up, Jesper heard panicked mumbling and scattering about from inside. He found his key and frantically opened the door just as a naked Kevin Huffinfiggen, his best friend from the nut factory, was trying to escape through the back window.

Marci, still in bed with the sheets covering her up, pleaded with Jesper.

“Jesper! It’s not what you think!” she yelled in desperation.

Jesper rubbed his eye, and even lifted up the eye patch on his bad eye, purely out of instinct, to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

Marci was caught. Kevin was almost out the window, but his fluffy tail was stuck on the curtain rod.

“Jesper, take it easy, man,” Kevin begged. “It just kinda happened.”

Jesper’s blood began to boil as he walked across the room with the same intensity of Jason Vorhees stalking a naive camp counselor who should’ve been gone the moment she saw her fate heaving in a hockey mask armed with a machete.

Jesper grabbed an acorn on the dining room table and smashed it on the corner without missing a step. The shell fell to the ground with the exception of one small, bulky piece. The force of the Jesper’s smash turned the shell into Kevin’s blunt and sudden execution.

But just as Jesper raised the shell, the curtain rod gave way and Kevin fell out of the window to a branch just outside the home. He scattered away. Naked. Jumping from limb to limb. Wire to wire. As he made it to the grass below, he looked back.

Jesper was still standing in the window. His adreniline pumping and blood flowing from his hand.

Jesper raised the shell and casually tossed it below.

“How could you do this to me, Kevin!” He screamed in agony. “We were best friends!”

Kevin scampered off, tail a little lower to the ground.

Jesper’s world was crushed. Again.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Marci managed to muster up through a face full of tears. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

Jesper stands motionless. He picked up one foot and consciously had to think about picking up the other one. Again and again as he made his way across the room. One thing he didn’t have to think about was the bottle macadamia nut rum sitting on top of the fridge.

With his head low and his tail lower, Jesper mindlessly walked across the hardwood floor, grabbed the bottle just as he had grabbed the acorn that he planned to murder his best friend with, this time with the same passion, but less intensity.

“Jesper, wait. No. Don’t go,” Marci whimpered, still sitting shocked in bed with nothing but a white blanket. But that’s all she could say. There was nothing else to say. It was over and she knew it.

Jesper dragged his feet out the door gently closed it behind him. His tail was caught, but only for a moment as it bounced off the heavy oak door. Marci could only breakdown, wondering how she ruined another relationship. How could she do this again, especially to such a good squirrel like Jesper?

Now walking the streets of Moscow  on a Wednesday afternoon with a half-empty bottle of macadamia nut rum, the other half in his stomach, Jesper started to feel a rage inside him he hadn’t felt in years. A rage that laid dormant since he went away to squirrel prison and got clean.

The macadamia nut rum took its toll and began to mix with his rabies medication. Jesper knew he wasn’t suppose to drink heavily while taking it, but he knew of no other way to numb the pain of a broken heart.

As he passed the park, he stopped. He turned toward the women and children playing and the rage continues to build, like pressure from a volcano. The foam began to flow out of his mouth. The transformation was happening.

“Hey you okay,” Jesper heard coming from the ground.

“Who’s there?” he snapped.

An earthworm wearing a red bandana appeared from a small hole.

“I said are you okay? You don’t look too good,” the worm said – more as a statement than an actual expression of concern.

“No. I’m not. I just caught my best friend and my wife in bed. I almost killed him. I.. I… almost killed him. My life is over,” Jesper said with a blank stare.

“Nah, it’s not over,” the earthworm replied with a smirk. “I got just the thing for you.”

The earthworm pulled out a bag. Jesper had seen it before. Cocaine.

“I’ve never done that. I’ve done just about everything else, but not that,” Jesper said with a trace of hesitancy.

“Well it sounds like the right time, my friend,” applying more pressure.

Left with only one eye, rabies and recovering from a nasty smack habit, Jesper assessed his life. No more friends, no more wife. He knew he couldn’t go back to the job. Not after this.

So with the courage of a broken squirrel, and half a thimble of macadamia nut rum in his system, Jesper snatched the bag of coke from the earthworm, ripped it open and laid it out. Line by line he snorted it up his little nostrils until it was all gone.

“What is this? What’s happening to me,” Jesper asked as the panic set in.

“What do you mean? You just snorted like 50 milligrams of bath salts! I got them from the dumpster behind the Bed, Bath and Beyond,” the earthworm shouted. Or at least it sounded like a shout to Jesper.

Raging on a broken heart and a load of bathsalts (10 mg is a TON for a squirrel), Jesper’s vision began to turn sour. Even with only one eye.

“You’re a bad worm!” he whispered.

Just then, Jesper heard a laugh. A laugh of joy. The laugh of a child having a great time in the park.

He didn’t even think about it. He raced toward the child, mouth foaming, eye red with fury, and attacked.

Screaming for help, the child’s mother raced to rescue him. Just as Jesper was about to sink his teeth into the kid’s ankle, he felt a hand swiftly scoop him off and went flying across the park to the monkey bars.

The force knocked some sense into him, but the rabies and bath salts had already taken their hold. Jesper turned back and hissed at the shocked mother and child before fleeing the scene.

Sheriff McGovern was called, but Jesper was never found. McGovern says he’s still on the lookout for him, but so far, Jesper remains on the loose.

There were no pictures taken that day, not that Sheriff McGovern needed one, but he had an artist rendering commissioned just to put the public’s mind at ease.

rabid squirrel

Many reports came in from people claiming they’d seen Jesper, but most were unreliable and Sheriff McGovern lacked the motivation to care.

“I’m hoping Jesper gets back on the right track. I’m hoping,” Sheriff McGovern thought while taking a sip of his newly poured cup of creamed coffee. “I’m hoping they don’t find him face down in a gutter with a needle in his arm. He fixed himself up once, he can do it again.”

As he listened to the background noise from the other diners all talking about the “dangerous monster of a squirrel,” McGovern sat stoic, reading about how the town’s minor league baseball team blew a 4-0 lead in the 9th.

McGovern knows Jesper has to pay for the assault on the mother and child, but with the right frame of mind and the right support system in place, Jesper has already proven he can overcome his demons, and that’s what drives McGovern to find Jesper. Justice, but not punishment.

McGovern finished his coffee, grabbed his cowboy hat sitting on the chair next to him and as he placed it in just the right spot on his head, he stood up, dropped a $1.34 on the table for a tip (generous for the service, he thought), adjusted his eye patch and walked toward the door.

Sitting in the booth was a tiny little squirrel wearing pulled down a baseball cap and sunglasses, avoiding the same article as Sheriff McGovern.

McGovern looked at the disheveled squirrel and the squirrel glanced back. McGovern stopped for a moment, the squirrel lowering his head hoping not to be recognized. McGovern stared, took a deep breath and said, “Sir,” while tipping his cap.

“Sheriff,” the squirrel threw back.

The bell to the diner door chimed as McGovern walked out. There would be no arrest today. Only healing.

 

 

 

 

CRAYON NEWS: A Brilliant (?) Plan to Catch Some Mail Thieves Backfires

“Caught the wrong person.”

Nicolas didn’t show any remorse when his strategically placed mousetrap caught the wrong person getting into his mailbox.

Nicolas thought either the drug dealers across the street or the woman who runs a house of prostitution was stealing his mail. So he hatched a plan. A bad plan. And now he has to deal with the consequences.

The rest of the tale told through my artistic talents (?) here:

 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Tired of men gawking at you at the pool? This should take care of it

It’s been seen on Buzzfeed, Cosmo, and MTV and now it’s catching it’s ultimate break by being featured on coryhoward.com!

In a world of jeans covered in fake mud selling for $425, jeans with “clear knees” selling for nearly $100, or rocks wrapped in leather for $85,  this latest fashion offering shouldn’t surprise me, but it still does. But at least it’s reasonably priced at $44.

The folks at Beloved.com are offering up the hottest (read: Most disturbing) swimsuit you’ll find this year, if you’re brave enough to wear it.

The “Sexy Chest” one piece swimsuit will surely turn some heads around the pool or the lake this summer, and at only $44, it’s totally worth it.

If you’re brave enough, please feel free to send a photo. 🙂

And if you’re into hairy things, but not necessarily looking like a hairy dude, don’t forget Hairy Banana merch is up for sale now! Get yours HERE.

Happy summer!

swimsuit chest hair

beloved.com

swimsuit chest hair2

beloved.com

Ski equipment or cocaine? The DEA’s 2017 Drug/Slang Words Unclassified

You know how sometimes you see lame news articles aimed at parents about the “secret language your child may be using and you don’t even know it”?

“The emojis your teenager is using and what they mean”

“Decoding your child’s text  or ‘sext’ messages”

“How your child may be talking about drugs around you and you don’t even know it”

You know, stuff like that. The media thinking parents are oblivious and need to be educated on what their kids are actually talking about. Pretty sure no matter how sneaky I was, my parents knew about all the shady stuff I was doing. Of course, we didn’t have cell phones so it was easy for my dad to just pick up the other line and listen in, then make fun of me for reciting Led Zeppelin lyrics to some girl I was trying to impress (“If the sun refused to shine…” Never worked.)

The point is that most of these articles you see are pretty “No duh” and riddled in common sense.

Most parents paying attention know that “420” means weed, or “Smack” means heroin. We don’t need local news to tell us that. But there are so many more slang words used for drugs that even parents in the know will be surprised about, and what better source to get them from than the agency who deals with drugs every day? The DEA.

Back in May, the DEA unclassified a report showing all – literally all – of the drug slang terms they are aware of. And it is fascinating.

Is your child talking about “Friskie Powder” or “Oyster Stew”? I’m sorry to tell you, they are doing cocaine.

Does your co-worker asks you if you’d like any “Grape Parfait”? He doesn’t mean grapes and yogurt. He means LSD. Most definitely.

Did your wife ask you to get her some Blue Bell Ice Cream recently? She doesn’t mean actual  Blue Bell Ice Cream. She obviously is talking about meth. You should schedule the intervention now.

The agency released the slang/code words with the caveat, “Every effort has been made to ensure the accuracy and completeness of the information presented. However, due to the dynamics of the ever-changing drug scene, subsequent additions, deletions, and corrections are inevitable.”

The slang words are, if nothing else, hilarious and a great way to expand your vocabulary while simultaneously confusing your friends into thinking you’re either crazy or have a drug problem. Or both. Fun times.

And if you’re looking for a name for your new band… you WILL find it in this list.

Check it out here:buscemi

DEA DRUG/SLANG WORDS 2017

Own Moldy Mickey Mouse for only $31K… and other cool items for much cheaper

I’ve recently developed a bad habit of playing the lottery. I know that I’m not going to win, but as it was so eloquently put in a recent episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, it’s just the hope that the ticket represents. Shelling out $5 a week for the hope of becoming a millionaire in my back pocket is worth it to me. 

But perhaps I’m fishing in the wrong hole for my dreams of wealth. Perhaps I need to look no further than the back of my fridge – or in my desk drawer – because there is a guy selling a moldy sandwich on eBay for $31,000. 

As Rick Harrison from Pawn Stars would say, “That’s what they’re selling it for or that’s what they’re getting for it?” 

Shut up, Rick. I know your game and I know when a piece of mold is worth more money than my truck. I bet if I told you it was once in the field bag of General Ambrose Burnside during the Civil War you’d appreciate it. 

But this sandwich currently up for grabs wasn’t owned by some famous General. It simply sprouted some mold in the shape of a familiar cartoon. One you’ve probably seen on TV or in your pancakes: Mickey Mouse. 

“Miracle Tuna sandwich, mold naturally grown on the sandwich is shaped like Mickey Mouse and is truly one of a kind! Sandwhich is frozen for preservation,” the listing says

1

The insane seller says he’ll donate half of the money to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital if it sells. That’s nice. A worthy cause. But you’re still making out with more than $15,000 for having nothing more than a sandwich that kinda resembles that annoying mouse. 

Hard work and perseverance are not the way to wealth. Unfortunately, it isn’t looking like the lottery is either. Moldy sandwiches are the next big thing. Buy as much stock in them as you can! 

I’ve recently purchased three loaves of bread and set them up in a hot and humid environment in hopes that at least one of the pieces of bread begins to sport some resemblance to someone famous. If a cartoon mouse can get $31K, imagine what I could get for a moldy Kim Kardashian sandwich? Or a green and fuzzy portrait of the late, great Bill Paxton? 

Until those items come to fruition, I need to supplement my inevitable income with other unique items. Here are a few off-the-wall things I’m peddling right now. 

First, this hairy banana. I peeled this banana a few days ago and forgot to eat it. Happens all the time. Next thing I know, it’s growing hair! So here’s a hairy banana to add to your collection… for only $7! Buy it and start a band named “Hairy Banana” and use it as your mascot. Or your first album cover. If you do that, I need a cut of the profits. 30/70 at least. We can talk about that. 

Hairy Banana Merchandise is already up and going! Get yours HERE!

2

Hairy Banana. How did that happen? Is that Sasquatch hair? Maybe. Maybe it’s Bloodhound hair. You won’t know until you buy it!

Next up is a bag of hair! But not just any hair. I was told by the gentlemen who sold this to me that it was magical Sasquatch hair! It hasn’t done much magic for me. It just sits int he bag, though I haven’t really tried to get any kind of magic out of it yet. I’m not looking to scam anyone on this item and really just am looking to break even, so if you want it, I need to get back at least what I put in to it. $8000. Firm. 

3

Magical Sasquatch hair! Paid $8000, need to get that back. Firm.

If you’re reading this and thinking, “Come on, Cory. Hair and bananas aren’t the financial future of the free world. I got to have mold.” Well, you’re in luck. The next item doesn’t looking like anyone famous, but it is a moldy piece of bread. Due to the fact that it is just mold and doesn’t hold any sort of sentimental value, I’ll let it go for only $5, instead of $31,000. And if you buy one moldy piece of bread, I’ll throw in another for free! That’s TWO pieces of moldy bread for the price of one! Try beating that value at any of the big, fat cat corporate mold dealers. My mold is farm to table. Organic. 

4

But wait, if you’re here to buy something that looks like someone, check this out. I bought this tortilla and quickly realized it resembled acting great Mark Wahlberg! The tortilla is mold free at the moment, BUT if you buy it now, that means it can only go up in value once the mold begins to grow! Slap it on your face and watch the look on your friends’ faces when they suddenly say, “Whoa, where’d my friend go and how am I now hanging out with Mark Wahlberg?!” 

Buy it now for only $3 and watch your investment grow to $50,000 in just a couple of weeks! Probably. I don’t know. If Mickey Mouse mold is selling for $31,000, imagine what Mark Wahlberg mold will sell for! It’s really an investment in your financial future. 

5

“Say hi to your mother for me.”

Hit me up on my Facebook page if you’re interested in buying any of these items. 

RUNNING WITH CORY: Stroller Edition

The sun actually came out yesterday and Bloomsday is this weekend, which means it’s officially running season. I’ve been trying to run all winter, which just seemed to end two weeks ago, and it’s been ok, but there’s nothing like spring and summertime running in the Inland Northwest.

Last year, I thought I’d share a few tips with you that are absolutely guaranteed to make you a better runner. In case you missed them, here they are:

While these tips are still a staple of any good runner and a daily part of my cheetah-like regimen, there is one major change coming my way this year that will be a bit of an adjustment: A kid.

But just because you have a kid, doesn’t mean your running needs to suffer. Here are 6 tips for runners who want to still get radical, but need to find a way to incorporate a stroller into their running gnarliness.

Enjoy, everyone and remember, “Lots of Miles, No Big Deal.”

And just for giggles, here’s a video I made running with the Flying Irish in Spokane last year:

We Gave Nick Viall Three Chances on The Bachelor, Can We Please Give This Rhino One?

The fact that we’ve reached this point is, honestly, infuriating.

One male northern white rhino left in the world? Seriously? But Tinder is hoping to help a rhino find his queen. Or at least get a baby white rhino out of the deal.

“Sudan” is the only male white rhino left, and one of only three left in the world. He has two female companions, Najin and Fatu, but at the age of 43, they are unable to breed due to complications that include old age.

Too bad we’re not trying to repopulate Earth with Mick Jaggers, right?

So the Ol Pejeta Conservancy in Kenya has teamed up with Tinder, hoping to raise $9 million for research into breeding methods (science ones, not just the Rhino Kama Sutra), in an effort to save the white rhino from extinction.

Sudan is now rightfully being called “The Most Eligible Bachelor in the World.”

And with Tinder in 190 countries and over 40 languages, that goal of $9 million doesn’t seem so far-fetched.

A suggestion if I may?

Turn this into a reality TV show. It’s the only thing people pay attention these days.

 

If you need evidence that this will work, simply look at the millions of people who just watched on a daily basis a giraffe walk around a pen for three months waiting to give birth.

We may need to spice things up a bit. People might be a little over saturated with wildlife reality shows these days.

I’m thinking of a mashup between April the Giraffe and the actual show, The Bachelor.

“From the man who brought you Point Break Beavers

point break beavers

comes… Bachelor: White Rhino Edition!

Of course with only two rhino contestants, we’ll have to throw in some other animals. Of course, giraffes are hot right now. I’m thinking a few zebras, an elephant or two. Hippos, lions, etc. An insecure and paranoid antelope who is really out-of-place in the middle of a room full of predators.

Obviously, since this is about saving an entire species, we’ll make sure Sudan picks only one of the two rhinos (just like the real show!)

Sudan can stand up on some podium in a room lit only by candlelight (and off camera studio lights) while Najin and Fatu and the other animals wait patiently – wondering who Sudan is going to give his horn to (they use fake rhino horns instead of roses on this show).

Seth Rogan or Bill Hader can voice Sudan. Fran Drescher and Sofia Vegara can voice Najin and Fatu.

They can go on dates.

“Today, I’m so excited to go to the watering hole with Sudan,” Najin can say. “I think I’m falling in love with him.”

On night two, Fatu can say “I think tonight is the night I tell Sudan that I’m falling in love with him.”

Of course, we’ll need drama, too.

“I’m here for Sudan, Fatu! You’re just here to get famous! You don’t even really love him!” Najin will definitely scream at one point after drinking too many glasses of wine mixed with tequila shots.

Then of course, Sudan will cry after realizing he has to send one of them home.

“I just *sob* can’t believe I have to *sniffle* send one of these beautiful women home *tears*… pause… I’m sorry. I need a minute.”

Who will Sudan pick? And one contestant makes a surprise return… next week on Bachelor: White Rhino. 

*Spoiler: He picks both of them and impregnates both of them and they’re cool with it because… you know… they have to save their own species.

So… who’s in? Come on! If Nick can go on The Bachelor three times and find fake love, surely we can save these rhinos from going extinct!

Solving United Airline’s Image Problem – A Four Step Plan

There are bad weeks and then there are United Airlines bad weeks.

I don’t want to recap everything that happened in the course of 7 days to the folks over at United, as I’m sure you already know, but it goes without saying that forcibly (that’s a kind term) removing a passenger from a flight and knocking him and his two front teeth out in the process, and then having a scorpion sting a passenger all in the span of a few days is… a bad week. A public relations nightmare.

Unless you have the right public relations team in place. Which, United cleared does (did?) not.

Taking three tries before even offering something that resembled an apology to the man who was publicly beaten is unacceptable. It’s beyond repair, honestly. It’s not a public relations problem anymore. Now it’s a humanity problem.

But one you can recover from, United. If you have the right people in place. People such as myself. I have the solution. I have the answer of how you can get your customers back.

United is not surprisingly looking for new PR specialists, so here’s my unsolicited job interview that includes my four-step plan to getting back in the good graces of the American public and ultimately, the world.

If you don’t like watching videos, or don’t know how to watch, here’s my plan in text form for your reading pleasure.

People aren’t dumb. Well, okay, some are. A lot are. But most people can sniff out insincerity from a mile away like some sort of sincerity bloodhound. People don’t respond to “We’re sorry” anymore. Especially when you’re on your third attempt. Actions. Actions speak louder than words (and I’m a man with great experience), so you must act. Not talk.

First, free stuff. I suggest cake, but it could be anything. Offering up free cake, pizza or alcohol on flights will bring people back. And don’t hide the cost in your fare prices. You’ve got to spend money to make this work and unfortunately, after the latest scandals, you’re going to have to bite the bullet and spend a lot of it.

Secondly, more free stuff. Give us our checked bags for free. Stop nickle and diming us every chance you get. I flew United once and on top of paying for my checked bag, they then wanted to charge me for it being 2 pounds overweight! Yet for some reason, when I took those two pounds our of my bag and put them in my wife’s underweight bag, the charge disappeared. WHY? The exact same weight went on the plane! It’s just another excuse to squeeze an extra $25 out of me. And don’t tell me it’s for  the sake of baggage handlers. Those are strong, tough folks who won’t blink at an extra two pounds over their minimally required 50. No more charging for checked bags. I know this will hurt your bottom line, but sacrifices must be made to bring people back.

I would say that top executive heads should roll after this, and perhaps after some half-assed apologies from your CEO, they should. But I also know that telling the boss of a company they should be fired during a job interview is no way to get hired. So I will not suggest that Mr. Munoz should step down. This is the time for him to step up and show the country he’s making real change. Not the kind that politicians promise. Actual change.

How do we make that change work for us?

Ah, glad you asked.

This is where it gets really interesting, yet absolutely necessary.

Daily lotteries.

You collect thousands of fares every day. My plan entails taking out a penny, a dime, a dollar… whatever, out of every fare you collect, put that in a pot and have daily lotteries. A passenger’s ticket is their entry. Every day, you hold daily lotteries where random people are singled out – in a good way – as winners of the jackpot!

Think about it. People have many choices when flying (your attendants using remind us of this at the conclusion of our flights), but what makes them pick one over the other are the perks. And I can’t think of any better perks than free food, free checked bags and the chance to win thousands, if not millions, of dollars, simply by clicking that United tab when booking my flight.

And finally, and this is probably the easiest step to execute: be people. Be real people who actually care about other people. If you screw up, admit it, genuinely apologize, explain a plan to never let it happen again and move on. If that doesn’t work, repeat steps 1-3.