Well, for starters, I'm pleased to announce that I am FINALLY off of my probation after a 17-month ordeal. I don't have enough time to get into any particulars. Otherwise, this column would turn into a book. However, suffice to say that I shall talk at length about the whole rigamarole at a later date, and that I am pleased to be FREE AT LAST, FREE AT LAST, THANK GOD ALMIGHTY, etc.

Nashville comedy continues to grow by leaps and bounds. It seems like there's a crapload of shows coming up here in town, and I figure to be in at least half of 'em. Head on over to www.nashvillestandup.com, even if you live in Connecticut, and do your part to advance my career, because lord knows I don't stand a chance if I have to rely solely on talent.

Last night, I was watching a show called "World's Greatest Commercials." It was the usual delightful network crapfest, a one-hour special that showcases commercials, with occasional interruptions by more commercials. It was co-hosted by the beautiful yet seemingly robotic Heidi Klum, and an astonishingly pathetic Arsenio Hall. The Arsenio parts were truly gruesome with a car wreck-like intensity. For one thing, he no longer had the "Arsenio" cut. Instead, he had this big, billowing, Buckwheatesque afro, that was just odd. It was so odd-looking I just sat there in shock. Every time he opened his mouth, it just got sadder and sadder.

Plus, Arsenio and Heidi had about as much chemistry together as Osama and Dubya in a closet, forced to play Seven Minutes in Heaven. At one point, Arsenio told some lame joke, and Heidi muttered some lame response, and then their interaction just stopped, the aura of lameness hanging in the air. Heidi was then cutting to commercial, and as the camera was panning away, Arsenio was glumly staring down at the ground, with a look of "Sweet Christ, kill me now" written all over his face. It was genuinely sad watching this man pine for the days when he could have sycophantic interviews with Al Sharpton. Do not cry, dear Arsenio, a grateful nation still loves you. You had me at "WHOO-WHOO!", Arsenio . . . you had me at "WHOO-WHOO!".

This was just the newest in my compendium of The Strangest Things I've Ever Seen. Everybody has a list of their own of weird crap that they've dealt with over the years. In order to fill up some more space, I'd like to share some of the strangeness I have witnessed with you, my Dear Reader and Faithful Fan. Take my hand, we're off to Never-Never Land.

- "The Last Waltz" is probably the greatest concert film ever made. It documents the last concert by The Band, one of the great bands of all-time, and features guest appearances by Muddy Waters, Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton, Van Morrison, Neil Young, Emmylou Harris, and tons of other great wonderful people. Oh, and Neil Diamond. The Neil Diamond segment is definitely my pick for the Sorest Thumb in Film History. After an hour and a half of amazing, rocking music, Robbie Robertson introduces "one of the great songwriters of our time" (why yes, large amounts of cocaine CAN make you delusional and narcissistic), and out walks ol' Neil in a blue polyester suit, matching lavender scarf, and a pair of Blu-Blocker sunglasses. He looks like The Band's Uncle Neil, who asked if he could "cut a rug" for his family at the reunion. Neil then proceeds to sing one of the stupider songs of our time, "Come Dry Your Eyes", while everybody else in the Band (except Robbie) are looking like they are playing at a Martian wedding, and they have no idea how they got there. Thankfully, Neil is gone soon thereafter, but this is certainly my choice for Most Fast-Forwardable Moment During a Great Movie.

- I saw a guy riding a horse downtown, followed by an abandoned baby outside a massage parlor. Click here for details of that.

- Finally, a personal favorite memory:

During one summer while I was going to UT, my friends Clay and Matt and I went on mini-road trip, driving Clay's friend Damien to Cookeville so Damien could hook up with his girlfriend. On the way down, we passed the exit to Crab Orchard. We all said derogatory things about Crab Orchard, as is our custom. We then kept on going.

After we dropped Damien off, we were on our way back. Clay was cruising along, when we started hearing a strange wobble. Clay pulled his car over, and we saw that his tire was getting flat. We decided to try and gut it out until we could make the next exit. What was that next exit? Ah yes, you have been paying attention. It WAS Crab Orchard!

Just off the exit, there is a BP. It is commonly known as the Crab Orchard BP. We pulled in, and got out, trying to figure out what to do. Clay didn't have a spare, so it looked grim for the Clinton Three.

Just then, a beat-up car pulled up. Like two winged angels in the night, out stepped a very fat man named Don, and a scrawny, toothless scuzzbucket named Bob. I could tell which one was Don fairly quickly, since he had a tattoo that said "Don" on his arm. I guess he was forgetful or something, like a redneck version of the dude in "Memento." Anyhoovins, Bob and Don were spending a quiet evening driving around listening to the police scanner, when they spied us and our quandary.

"Hey, you guys need help?" asked Don, the prime negotiator for the duo. We proceeded to tell him our plight, and Don kindly offered to help.

"I'll do 'er for twenty bucks," Don said.

We didn't have that kind of money.

"Hmm . . . well, how 'bout that watch?"

Clay then handed over his 5-dollar watch to Don, and Don was on the case. Don went to go get a tire, while Bob stayed behind, I guess as our "collateral." In the meantime, we struck up some engaging conversation with Bob. Here now are some samples:

Bob: "Where you guys from?"

Jesse and Matt: "Knoxville."

Bob: "Whoa, buddy . . . I don't like that town. Too many damn federal buildin's up there."

Jesse and Matt: (awkward laughter)

Bob: "But I tell ya one damn thang that Knoxville's got that Crab Orchard don't got . . ."

Jesse: "What's that?"

Bob: "A big ol' damn boxcar load full o' (n-word)s!!"

Jesse and Matt: (stunned, awkward silence)

Here's another excerpt:

Bob: "You ever do any slap boxin'?"

Jesse: "No, what's that?"

Bob: "Where you stand toe-to-toe and slap the piss outta each other?"

Jesse: "Uh, no."

Bob: "Oh yeah, we do that all the time here, Crab Orchard's a wild town . . . especially the ladies. Now, it ain't as wild as KINGSPORT, but it's still wild."

Jesse and Matt: (more awkward laughter)

Bob: "You ever bet on an ant race?"

Matt: "Uh, no."

Bob: Where you put the ants in a circle and see which one leaves first?"

Jesse: "Uh, no."

Bob: "Oh. Okay, then. It's fun as hell."

Thankfully, Don soon came back, with a delightful tire in tow. He was kind enough to put the tire on for us, and then Clay drove around the parking lot. Success! So, Clay comes back and we're about to head out. But not before thanking Don for his help:

Clay: "Thanks alot, we appreciate it."

Don: "Ah, it's no problem. I got it off my brother's Malibu."

Matt: "Really?"

Don: "Yeah. I mean, he was ASLEEP, but he's a good guy, he likes to help out."

Before Don's brother could come and shoot him, or us, we hopped into the car and sped on down the road, stunned and laughing at what he just saw.

If you have something really damn weird that you've experienced, feel free to drop me a line and perhaps I'll put it in a future column. Or, I might just horde your memories and claim them as my own. Ah well, either way, it's good for me! WOOHOO!

This is the MangyDog, over and out.