When Dave's brothers were young, his oldest brother Dan had a favorite toy, a big yellow Tonka truck. In every picture of him at age 3, he has it in his sticky little mitts. Some kids have stuffed sheep, some have blankies, Dan had his Tonka.
What his parents didn't realize until it was too late was that he didn't play with it the way one generally would a toy truck. Instead of rolling it along the ground in simulation of actual truck operation, Dan would go to brother Steve's crib, say "TRUCK!" and smack him over the head with it. This went on for a long time before Mr. & Mrs. Holmes noticed the treadmarks on Steve's scalp and took the truck away.
And when they finally did, they told him, "we're taking this away until you learn how to use it in the way it was intended."
And tonight, we're doing the same thing.
Women of America, you are no longer allowed to use the word EMPOWERMENT.
This week, production began on "Bratz," the live-action movie version of the popular line of thick-lipped, bare-midriffed, shopping obsessed dolls for young girls. And sure enough, the producers lay it on this with the E word.
Yes, girls, you are now empowered to have eating disorders and to hate the clothes your parents can afford to buy you. You've come a long way, baby. You don't mind that we call you "baby," do you? You do? Shut up.
We realize many of you women grew up watching the Spice Girls claim that jumping around wearing tight clothing is "empowerment." And frankly, their brand of snaggletoothed women's lib wasn't completely off the mark. Yes, there was the aforementioned tight clothing, but no stripper poles, no open mouth kissing of one another, no presentation of their breasts like angry members of the 4-H club, trying to win the blue ribbon for a prized sow. No, they insisted that if suitors wanted their future, they would have to forget their past, and that their potential lovers would also "have to get with their friends." I'm not sure where zigazig ha falls into all this, but I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. What I'm saying is, rules were laid down by the Girls of Spice. Parameters were set. And perhaps, this was empowerment.
Alas, there has been an inflationary pressure upon the word, and with every year, women have been using it wronger and wronger.
Webster's Dictionary defines empowerment as "to promote the realization of one's ultimate potential."
In today's America, there are many ways to empower oneself. Voting, for example. Learning, volunteering, mentoring. Even taking fashion risks by wearing a dress that looks like a dead swan. The Pussycat Dolls, however, empower themselves by dancing like Bangkok hookers hepped up on meth, trying to earn enough pennies to buy their freedom Pimpsako, while they sing songs taunting other women that they will spirit away their steroid juiced, hair-product encased, "No Fear" t-shirt wearing boyfriends possibly by challenging the girls to a waist measurement contest.
This is not empowerment.
Here are some good rules of thumb: if men are masturbating around you, what you're doing is not empowering.
Brats are not empowering; Pippi Longstocking IS.
Any words worn on your ass other than "Save Africa" are not empowering.
Dancing on the bar at Big Wang's is not empowering.
Being in Big Wang's is not empowering.
Reading Cosmo, instead of merely looking at the pictures, is not empowering.
Meredith Grey is not empowering.
Spreading wide while exiting a car without underwear is not empowerment.
There has yet to be an energy drink specifically marketed to women, but it is coming. It doesn't matter what it's called, "You Go Girl" or "FemmElectric" or "Double X" or "Virgina Slimbull"... it will not be empowering.
Acting like the silver gal on the mudflap is not empowering.
So that's it; we're done. Ladies, no soup for you. No more saying empowerment and acting like you're in a Motley Crue video. It's over.
Now, if you'll excuse us, we two college-educated men in our mid-30s have to do a show where we make fun of people and drink beer.
xoxo-
Dave & Scott
THIS FRIDAY...
ONCE
She's beautiful, she's talented...and now she's $40 richer. 
I remember when Wes Anderson's film "Rushmore" came out. I went to see it at CityWalk, and sitting behind me was an agitated teenager, no doubt drawn in to see the film by the onslaught of MTV promotion. While the audience laughed, I would hear her whining. Sounding frustrated, she'd say to her friends, "Why are people laughing?" Of Max Fisher she said, "He so stupid" and, my favorite, "He's retarded."
Oh, what a night! Nicholas Pavlos and Meryl Chambers gave their level best, but in the end, only our own JON CROWLEY had what it took to win the 40 bucks. And hey- he's bought us a drink or two in the past, everything evens out. 
Yoooge week for album releases. Modest Mouse, LCD Soundsystem, Ted Leo. It must be like Christmas morning in the Pitchfork offices; hipster after hipster racing down the stairs in their footie PJ's (aren't they hilarious? got 'em at American Apparel!) to check under the tree. Was I cool this year, "Santa?"
Doing some research on Hollywood and Highland (you don't want to know, really), I came across a 2002 article about a twenty one and under nightclub. It begins with this:
