Watch Out for That Trashcan, Mark!

My prediction for the next Mark Trail plotline: Mark trashes his house in a drunken rage after poachers replace the bottled water in his fridge with moonshine. Although he only has a sip, the destructive powers of alcohol prove cataclysmic as Mark spears a badger with a fork and sits on it like a whoopee cushion. After he sobers up, he realizes he lost his pictures receipt and spends the next two weeks (36 panels) looking for it before the plot can advance.

[looking under seat cushion] "Is it here? Nope." [inside sock drawer] "Is it here? Nope." [under mail] "Is it here? Nope." Tomorrow: Will it be under the rug???

Extended Company Slogans

Enterprise: "We'll pick you up. Unlike your stinking friends."

Arby's: "What are you eating? No, really. What are you eating? We don't have a clue. Meat?"

Budweiser: "True. False. False. True. Statements: Budweiser tastes like horse urine, Budweiser contains no horse urine, Budweiser contains absolutely no horse urine, you're drinking horse urine. "

If you post your own ideas, I'll be happy to steal your slogans and eliminate all traces of your creativity by deleting your comment. I can do that. I have the power.

One reason for the sparse posts lately is that I'm working on a column. It has been more difficult to churn out than I thought it would be. I feel like I'm in college again, distracting myself by web browsing and suddenly urgent tasks like alphabetizing the books on my shelves so it will be easier to find Ray Romano's memoir "Everybody Loves Me" when I need it.

Hey, Pea

Hear ye, hear ye. From this moment forth, all posts shall be written using the style guide of The Associated Press. Any editors or neurotics are given free reign to waste time in an attempt to find stylistic flaws in my perfect prose.

In other words, I'm trying to learn AP style and, after the rage dies down, I'll be grateful for any help pointing out my mistakes.

Search Engine Fun

Dear person who found this site searching for "who+told+you+you+could+eat+my+cookies":

Arnold, Gray Davis told me I could eat your cookies. And guess what? Davis just passed a 47% cookie tax...on high-faluting, fancy cookies. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. Because of you, he's a man with nothing left to use. Tomorrow: 117% increase on car models with 'mm' in its name. Bummer, huh? Also, if you compare tax dollars to cookies beforehand, this would make a great line in a debate: "I have one thing to say to Gray Davis. Who told you you could eat my cookies?"

Dear people who found this site searching for "mo+rocca+pictures", "pictures+of+mo+rocca", and "mo+rocca+gay":

1. I don't know if he's gay. Really. I don't. I checked the guidebook. He's not listed.

2. Are you sure you're not looking for porn star Mo Cocca?

3. Well, OK then. If you're going to come here anyway, you might as well get what you're looking for.



Dear people(!) who found this site searching for "poop+on+a+pancake":

I can't believe I'm doing this.

Saruman and Crabs

Once, while eating in a crab restaurant, I remarked to a friend how leveling our wooden mallets against these creatures served in caskets of Old Bay was as close as we would come to the caveman. Felling a tiger with a spear has been replaced with bits of shell hitting our bibs and the floor where grass once lied underneath.

An insightful observation, I thought. A few seconds later, almost out of earshot, I heard a man make almost the same comment. He didn't overhear me. I realized what I said was an obvious observation, one that comes to most people who have eaten crabs and know the caveman archetype.

On that note, I searched for "saruman hamas leader" in Google. Six hundred hits.

Cate's Crazy Comments

I just want to point out that some crazy person left a comment for each post on the front page.

Hurricane Wasabel

The past two days have been sunny and gorgeous. And the D.C. weather forecasters are going through hurricane withdrawal.

BOB RYAN: "Storm tonight. Will there be high wind gusts? Tune in at 11:00."

SUE POLKA: [spinning a weather map on a pencil] "Uh-oh. Looks like a hurricane is coming."

DOUG HILL: [twirling around the studio] "If you were in the Bahamas now, this is what would be happening to your house. [picks up Maureen Bunyan's notes, scatters them across studio. As he stumbles towards the camera, Hurricane Hill crashes to the floor and enters into a tropical depression. The sports reporter makes fun of his tears.]

Update:



Just kidding! Doug's A-OK! And he's backlit more than Jesus.

Dead Sexy

One blogger has a Cute Dead Guy of the Week section that shows portraits of men from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. One of the men looks surprisingly modern. Perhaps it is a coincidence that he was an anarchist. Perhaps not.

I Just Have One Question

When did Saruman join Hamas?

How To Fireproof Your Baby

How did that get in there?

Those Crazy Conservatives

One of the most interesting times in politics is the first few weeks of a campaign of a threatening candidate like Clark. The extra media attention reveals early campaign flubs and waffling that go unnoticed in traditional campaigns.

Also, you get to see the miscues of his opponents as they work out the best way to attack him.

I have no opinion of Clark yet, aside that it's odd that a man who considered running for several months has only started to develop his positions on domestic issues. But this attack on Clark made me smile.

The fun version: Read this opinion piece in The Daily Standard, and then the first paragraph of the Newsweek essay (by conservative Howard Fineman) it links to as a reference. Figure out the logical fallacy. Laugh.

The easy version: Read this summary of what happened on TPM.

Today's Photoshop

I have sunk to a new low.

And I Could Have Gotten 60 Clothes Hangers at the Dollar Store

Since I so publicly called Isabel--what was it, oh yes--a pussy, and bet my Mom five dollars its effect would be no worse than a severe thunderstorm for D.C., I'm due to say that I was absolutely, completely wrong. Many people are still without power, and Fairfax County water was only recently declared safe for drinking. Mom, you win five dollars, and I'm glad my trash-talking mouth didn't add a 'ty' to the amount when we made the bet.

Having said that, you know the idea that you "create your own reality"? I am now a believer. Contrary to houses in surrounding areas, my townhouse never lost power, our water remained untainted, our virgins unspoiled, and few branches fell in thine neighborhood. And perhaps all because I denied the power of this tropical storm in the face of all reasons. In other words, it was worth the $5. And now I know what it feels like to be a creationist.

Civil Union Marriage Transformer Fighting Machine

The "marriage vs. civil union" debate pops up in gay cultural regularly. Should we (we being dem gays) fight for marriage, or for civil unions that have all the rights of marriage, but for some reason are more palatable to certain people. I guess it's like how I now support The Patriot Act, but not when it was under its original name, "Underskirt Cam" (Details on www.ashcroftspanties.com.)

A few arguments against focusing on civil unions is that it institutionalizes a "separate but equal" status for gay people and legitimatizes the bigotry that fuels gayer hatas in the first place. Good arguments. And the idea that more Americans, when actually faced with the issue of legal recognition for gay couples, would support marriage in effect as long as it wasn't called marriage sounds specious.

But, nevertheless, this is what I think the gay community should do:

1. We fight for civil unions, or country unions, or The Joining of Al'Kathuzl, with the same legal rights as marriage.
2. We get these rights.
2a. Big party.
3. We say "Gotcha!" and always refer to it as marriage.
3a. And when we talk about straight people getting married, we use air quotes over "married."

Sample script:

STRAIGHT PERSON: "Barry! I haven't seen you in a while. What's new with you?"
GAY PERSON: "Good news. I'm going to get married next month."
STRAIGHT PERSON: "Married? You mean 'civil unioned', right?"
GAY PERSON: "Ha ha ha. Silly breeder."

I think nomenclature is just a straw symbol of the real reason some people are against gay marriage. But if everything is identical except for the name, I'd rather get a civil union certificate and a bottle of Wite-Out rather than wait a few extra years.

It's So Crazy, It Just Might Work

I'm praying to Allah sitting on the shoulders of Vishnu (spotted by God) that this political event comes to pass.

Those Crazy Scientists

A "researcher" posted an ad in the Wanted section on craigslist requesting people send him stories on their addiction to Internet porn. "I'd like to hear the intimate details. What's your M.O.? How does it make you feel. Does your spouse know about it?"

Methinks someone is addicted to Internet porn addiction stories. But maybe this is legitimate. So I sent this email. I'll let you know if I get a response.


Dear Scientist,

I am into Internet porn. Big time. (If I knew how to make the font bigger, it would be BIG TIME. But in a bigger font.)

I have been keeping a diary of my travails in the "final frontier"...of PORN! I would like to type the pages and send them to you. Should I take the dirty parts out? Highlight them? I want to help. Also, I don't cyber, but I was wondering, do you cyber? Also, I'm not a woman, but I was wondering, are you a woman?

Your research sounds interesting. Which research organization are you part of? I must say, if you are part of The Heritage Foundation, I am not sending you anything. Those guys are dicks. (They told me to stop calling.)

Looking forward to hearing from you. May the Starship Enterprise take you to where no one has gone before!

"Frank"

YAM

Yet Another Photo:

Walk in the Park

YAYAM 1 and 2:

Lizzie's Back

Roosevelt Island

Newstoday

Newstoday is kind of like FARK for graphic artists. They have a public broadcast section where you can usually find links to sites of talented computer artists and Internet randomness, like this Halloween costume.

It's the type of site that's good because not a whole lot of people know about it. Go ahead. Fill in the joke. (Hint: It has something to do with my five visitors a day.)

20 Questions

I played an online version of 20 Questions. Guess what the object is.

1. Is it an animal, plant, mineral, other, or unknown? Other.
2. Is it heavier than a pound of butter? No.
3. Can it fit in an envelope? Usually.
4. Is it hard? Sometimes.
5. Is it made of metal? Rarely.
6. Is it made of plastic? Rarely.
7. Can it be used more than once? Sometimes.
8. Is it straight? Usually.
9. Is it multicolored? No.
10. Does it come in a pack? No.
11. Do you use it at work? Sometimes.
12. Do you hold it when you use it? Sometimes.
13. Can you buy it at a store? No.
14. Do you use it in your home? Yes.
15. Can you lift it? Yes.
16. Can it be used for recreation? Yes.
17. Do you clean it regularly? Usually.
18. Can it scratch? No.
19. Are there many different sorts of it? Yes.
20. I guess it a urethra? No.
21. Was it invented? No.
22. Do you use it in public? Rarely.
23. Can you use it at school? Rarely.
24. Does it come from something larger? No.
25. Does it live in African grass lands? No.
26. I guess it a muscle (body part)? Close.
27. Is it comforting? Usually.
28. Can you smell it? Yes.
29. Does your mother know what you are thinking about? I am not allowed to talk about stuff like this, but,
I am guessing that it has something to do with sex? Yes.

Urg. [ahem] Erg. [one second] Arg. [there we go] Arg. Arg! ARG!

To celebrate Talk Like a Pirate day, here is What's Your Pirate Name?

-Fat Frank Skinner

Effects of Hurricane Isabel

"In Virginia alone, more than 1.5 million people lost power by late Thursday and more than 16,000 people filled evacuation shelters. Six people were killed in a pair of weather-related traffic accidents in the state; two were killed by falling trees. One man drowned while canoeing." (AP)

It's not scuba diving, but it's close.

Have an Amazing Hurricane Isabel Photo?

"washingtonpost.com wants to see your Hurricane Isabel photos. Attach a jpeg, no larger than 1MB and/or 600 pixels (8 inches) wide, in an e-mail to submitphoto@washingtonpost.com. Please include your name, phone number and a caption. Photos become the property of washingtonpost.com."

Pancake City Legal Notice

All comments made and emails sent to me become property of Pancake City. This includes emails from my Mom asking when I will show up for dinner. Pancake City also owns all subjects mentioned in said comments and emails, including related concepts, like lunch and dessert.

Are you writing a book? Could it fit in the comments section of one of the posts? Property of Pancake City. The monitor you're viewing this page with? Property of Pancake City.

What did you have for breakfast? Pancakes? No? Perhaps something with flour in it? Property of Pancake City.

Bake a cake? Subsidiary of Pancake City. Bake a cake in a pan? Welcome to the Pancake City LLC family.

Attention readers of this sentence: readers of that sentence ("Attention readers of this sentence") grant full and unconditional lifetime agreement of said notice. Plus rights to second child or Playstation 3, whichever comes first.

Thank you.

Link-a-dinks

Send your $10,000 bills to these candidates.

Writing is Hard

So here are some photos! Brightness/Contrast adjusted for night sky photos.

Night Sky 1

Night Sky 2

Lizard

Say Hello...

...to the new, Chad-friendly logo. Cause if your logo isn't Chad-friendly, then you might as well take a picture of your crap and put that up. That way, at least Crappie's parents will like your logo.

Isabel

I was going to write a post detailing my reasons for why Isabel is a hoax, it's going to be 72 degrees and sunny tomorrow, and we should all head for the beach. After all, Pat Robertson is 7 for 7 in turning away hurricanes this year. (Don't remember any hurricane watches? That's why.)

But I feel bad for making fun of something that, while I think people in the D.C. area are completely overreacting to, could collapse houses and endanger people much closer to the shore. So maybe for Hurricane Jorge, but not this time. I did bet my Mom $5 that Isabel's effect on the D.C. area would be no greater than a bad thunderstorm. This is based solely on the fact that the people around here are reacting the exact same way to Isabel as they do to a "major snowstorm", i.e. 1-2 inches. And you know how weather forecasters are fond of torturing kids on rainy November days by saying: "If it were three degrees colder, this inch of rain would have been almost a foot of snow. A foot of wet, virtually unplowable snow."? Well, the rule of thumb is that 1-2 inches of snow melts into 1/10 to 1/5 feet of rain. So, according to my D.C. fear conversion meter, that's how much rain we're getting. Possibly an inch more.

I understand why everyone near the coast is worried about this hurricane. But is everyone else already bored worrying about terrorists? Osama's kicking over a table right now. "Damn these Americans and their attention spans! What do we have to do, put our threats on DVD?" Is getting worked up a twisted part of the 9/11 healing process, or has it just been a slow summer?

And yes, I'll eat an extra helping of crow on the likely possibility that I'm completely wrong.

Wishful Thinking

It's too bad you can't use MapQuest to get out of a speeding ticket.

POLICE OFFICER: "Why the hell where you going 94 miles per hour?"
YOU: "MapQuest said I could get there in 14 minutes."
POLICE OFFICER: "Give me that." [snatches directions] "...What? It told you to take the Franklin Bridge? That's been shut down for repairs for the last two years."
YOU: "I know. I had to build up speed to jump over the gap."

Um, Liberal Media? Hello?

Here is something I never thought I'd see. The AP story about Rumsfeld's comment came out roughly 12 hours ago. As of now, a link to it is on the front page of FOX News. But not on The Washington Post's front page. (Or on The New York Times's site. Or CNN's, for that matter.) How much crazy stuff does this old man have to say before he gets some media attention?

New Email Address

As you can tell, I changed the site design. I also changed my email address because I'm tired of getting spam. To stop email harvesters from getting my address, I have added 'NOSPAM' to it, which you will have to remove before sending email. I also added another 'NOSPAM' for extra protection. Only remove the irst-fay 'NOSPAM'. Thanks.

Wow

Brace yourself. This may actually make you like Rumsfeld. A bit.

Rumsfeld sees no link between Iraq, 9/11

In a way, Rumsfeld stated the obvious. There is a laughable amount of evidence to support the connection. Except that 69% of Americans believe Saddam Hussein was probably involved in the 9/11 attacks. Partially because everyone else in the Bush administration has either strongly hinted or come out and said there is a connection. (The AP article has some good examples.)

I'm not sure why Rumsfeld was being honest. Is he planning on leaving soon? Did he slip up? Does me--it pains me to think this--have integrity? I can't wait to see if there's going to be any fallout from this in the next few days. What do you do when one of your chief spokesmen says something exactly the opposite of what you've been saying for the past year?

American Athlete

I didn't feel like going swimming today because it was cold. But I felt like showering less, so I went swimming.

Hurricane Isabel

I'd just like to point out that after Hurricane Isabel was called a biatch yesterday by Pancake City, it has dropped from a Category 3 hurricane to a Category 2. Hurricane center meteorologist Eric Blake says "people should not let their guard down even though the storm is weakening." Neither should you, Blake. Cause I'm gonna "hurricane" you in the balls.

I don't know that means, but once I do, it's going to happen.

I hope while Hurricane Isabel is spinning in the ocean it picks up some sharks and flings them across the U.S. I loved Summer of the Shark. It was the only summer when I went to the beach and saw people scared of dolphin fins. "AUGGH! Sharks! And they're playing with a beach ball!"

Tom the Dancing Bug

One of my favorite comics is Tom the Dancing Bug. Tom the Dancing Bug is Tom the Shiznit. His comics are either very funny or very funny while making a point.

If you're in the D.C. area, you can find Tom the Dancing Bug in the back of the Washington Post's Weekend section (comes out on Fridays). Otherwise, check out his syndicate's website.

Night Window

I set my camera's exposure to 15 seconds, propped it on a chair, and took a photo of my window in the middle of the night. The result turned out better than I expected.

I like hobbies that require so little effort. Hence my love for digital photography and video games. And my hatred for gardening, manual photography, multi-note instruments, and, well, just about everything else.

But what about writing? Writing is work, right? Yes it is. Good luck finding more than two posts over 200 words.

Hurricane Isabel is a Pussy

Hurricane Isabel was a Class 5 hurricane. Then a Class 4. Now it's a Class 3, and this overblown Tasmanian devil won't even hit the East Coast for at least three days.

That's why I'm calling you out Isabel. You're a pussy. An overgrown flushing toilet combined with a bunch of warm air. You ain't going to do shit to D.C.

You think I'm playing? Hell no, dawg. I don't have renters insurance. And I ain't getting it. Cause I got my chump goggles on, and the warning light is flashing red when I look to the Atlantic. By the time your swirly ass limps to D.C., you're going to have less gas than Iraq after Haliburton.

I'm 30 miles inland. What'cha gonna do to me, make me wet? I got an umbrella. And it has a duck handle. Biatch.

So bring it on. If you're even able to make it up here. I'll be in the pool, wearing suntan lotion.

I Thought it Would be Different in Canada

Can't government do anything right?

Photo

Do you see the fish?

Lawn Mowing

I never knew how deep my passive-aggressiveness ran until I looked over my Mom's lawn that I just mowed, saw tufts of grass and weeds sticking out from dozens of spots that I missed, and realized that this was how my hair looked as a kid when she cut it.

Feeling Down?

If you are feeling a little depressed, click on this link. It will cheer you up.

Happy Birthday Mom

It was my Mom's birthday yesterday. Her age can be summed up in this conversation between her and my sister Tina.

MOM: "I'm 40!"
TINA: "No, you're not. You're ancient."
MOM: "40!"
TINA: "Ancient!"
MOM: "40!"
TINA: "Ancient!"
MOM: "40!"
TINA: "Hey. We haven't bugged Jason in three minutes."
MOM: "Oh, yeah. Jason, get a job!"
TINA: "Yeah, you bum. No dinner unless you get a job."

Michele (sister #2) got this flower arrangment for my Mom, sans the sloppy photo editing.

Small Miracles

Dear J-Lo and Ben,

Thank you. Thank you so much.

Sincerely,
Your Almost Future Child

Other Cliches

I don't know the back of my hand very well, but if I did, I'd know you as well as the back of my hand.

There's no place like home. Unless you live in the suburbs. Then every third house is like home.

Time flies when you're throwing clocks at children.

Birds of a feather flock together, especially when they are possessed by the spirits of dogs and are trying to sniff each others' butts.

You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. Even if you could, why would you want to, you fucking sicko?

Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater. Unless it's a bad baby. That'll teach it.

Three is the optimal number of heads to have.

We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, unless "that bridge" is a metaphor for a bomb under a bridge.

There's no use crying over spilled milk. Unless you're a mutant that cries milk. Then, crying makes sense. A LOT of sense.

Stainless Steel

I have never had silverware. That is, silverware containing silver. My cutting and poking utensils have always been made out of steel. Stainless steel. Cause I ain't a peasant.

Has silverware ever been made out a non-stainless steel? Did this conversation often occur decades ago?

GUEST: "There's a rust spot on my fork."
HOST: "Oh, that? Don't worry. It's stainly steel."
GUEST: [bites into fork] "Actually, it's chocolate."
HOST: "I'm so embarrassed. I couldn't afford stainly steel. I was hoping no one would notice."
GUEST: "The only thing I noticed is that it's delicious. Pass me a serving spoon!"

The Day is Young

So far, I went on a walk, ate breakfast, lunch, read the paper, cleaned my room, washed two loads of laundry, had a mid-afternoon snack and chatted with a friend. I'm not sure what I'm making for dinner. I'll see how I feel in fifteen minutes. I was surprised there weren't a lot of birds out during my early morning walk today. Here's one of the photos I took.

Not Enough Time

My alarm didn't go off today. I just woke up. I am still in shock. I would have preferred to have slept an extra twelve hours and wake up bright and early at 7 a.m. tomorrow. Before I saw the time, I looked outside my window and thought, "Gee, that's a weird sunrise." This is really depressing.

Makes me feel like going back to bed.

Photos

I borrowed my Mom's digital camera. It was a perfect day for taking photos. Here are a few of them.

Cicada

Window Blind

Where Are My Nuts?

Phobia #23

Is there a word for always being worried that you're on a hidden camera show? A more nuanced form of paranoia? I saw a four-year-old talking to his friend on a cell phone today, and my first instinct was to check the bushes for a camera.

I'm sure children have been using cell phones for years and I'm just out of touch, but to me, the scene was like seeing a little kid in a business suit and holding a briefcase. "Awwww. He's trying to embezzle money from his grandma's 401K. That's so adorable."

Missed a $100

I replied to an ad about a web site usability study. $100 for 2 hours of web browsing. But I got screened out. It's moments like this I wish life had save and restore buttons. I would have aced the screening questionnaire the second time. Instead, this happened:

WOMAN: "How often do you use the web? Less than 2 hours a week?"
ME: [snicker]
WOMAN: "2 to 5 hours a week? 5 to 10 hours? Or more than 10?"
ME: "More than 10 hours a week, or more than 10 hours a day? Well, it doesn't matter."
WOMAN: "I'm sorry. The demographic you're in is full."
ME: "Wait. By web, you mean spider webs, right? Because I run a spider farm. Is there another "web" out there? Also, I live in a cave. But not a terrorist cave. An old fashioned cave, the way grandma used to make them. Yup. That's my motivation."
WOMAN: "Go away."

A Crime of Passion

"I" received a mysterious envelope from The Washington Post yesterday. But before I go on, I'd like to share some interesting facts about my favorite pronoun, "I".

1. "I" is a multisymmetrical beast.

2. "I" is a homonym of sight and the cry of sailors.

3. Often, its meaning is clear and unequivocal.

4. Except when "I" get cool envelopes from The Washington Post that I want to open.

5. In those cases, who am I to judge who "I" should be? "I" could be me. "I" could be you. Or "I" could be Dr. Michelle A. Rivera, the person's name on this envelope, an envelope with "FIRST CLASS MAIL" on it and definitely has something cool in it oh god I want to open it now.

So, if you want to be technical, I am not Dr. Michelle A. Rivera. Neither are my roommates, Dan and Matt. I asked. Nor is any former roommate a doctor, much less Dr. Michelle A. Rivera, who, for all we know, is Doctor of Baby Eating.

And the envelope has my address on it, so it's not like I can put it back through the mail slot. (Although returning your mail and writing "WRONG!" on the letters would be a fun way to torture your mail carrier.)

Okay, we all know where this is going. I teared opened the envelope, having fantasized for hours about what treasure laid inside. Could it be it a prize from The Style Invitational? A letter from Gene Weingarten? Maybe an application for an unadvertised writing position. Or a survey, deliver to only twelve readers, asking for our opinion about the comics page.

And the envelope contained...a copy of The Washington Post magazine. Oh. That's nice.

Here's my question for you. Did I commit mail fraud? The letter wasn't addressed to me, or a previous occupant of the house, but it had the house's address. I have no moral qualms (of course!), but it's an interesting legal question.

A question "I" should find the answer to.

Guess Who's Back?

Back again?

Berkeley's back. Tell a friend.

Now all we need is G-Lar and Watterson.

But Wait. There's More!

Tonight at 2:30 a.m: "Instant Democracy"; infomercial.

Sample clip:

BUSH: "Here's what you get. Funding to rebuild the country's infrastructure. Security to ensure the success of the rebuilding process. And a future U.S. ally that will emit powerful "democracy waves" to surrounding Islamic countries, stabilizing the Mideast, removing bird poop from windows, and bringing an era of peace unseen in that conflict-torn region for millions of years. All for the low price of just $79 billion!"
AUDIENCE: "Booo!"
BUSH: [stumbles back] "Hmm. I'll tell you what. If you call your representative in Congress in the next 15 minutes and demand little Congressional oversight, I'll ask them to approve an additional $87 billion, bringing the final price to $166 billion!"
AUDIENCE: [tepid applause.]
BUSH: "Come on. I can't go any higher."
AUDIENCE: [murmuring] "Come on!" [applause]
BUSH: "[slyly looks around, leans in to audience.] Well ... [whispers] I could pretend our allies like Monsieur Smelly Pants will pay for the rest, and when they don't...I'll have to ask Congress for another $55-$75 billion, bringing the grand total to almost a QUARTER OF A TRILLION DOLLARS! HOW DOES THAT SOUND?!"
AUDIENCE: "YEAH! AND WE CAN PUT IT ON A CREDIT CARD! WHO HAS THE LOLLIPOP NOW, CHILDREN OF THE FUTURE? Dub-ya! Dub-ya! Dub-ya..."

Good News!

I love the Weekly World News. I buy it several times a year and have never been disappointed. This week's story about Hillary Clinton's continuing relationship with alien hunk P'Lod sucked me in. The WWN is funny, and intentionally so, although I'm not sure all of its readers get the comedy of this week's horoscope for Sagittarius: "Avoid root vegetables."

Even the classifieds are funny. Under Money Making Opps.: "HOW TO get one million people to send you $2.00. Learn my easy method! Plus receive proof this method works. Rush $2.00 to..."

The Problem of Happiness

''Things that happen to you or that you buy or own -- as much as you think they make a difference to your happiness, you're wrong by a certain amount. You're overestimating how much of a difference they make. None of them make the difference you think. And that's true of positive and negative events.''

The New York Times has a great article detailing a psychologist's research on happiness. The article won't be as good as you think, but the pain fo registering to read the article won't be as bad as you think.

Dear Religious Friends

You may want to skip this post...

Inspirational Sayings

* Jesus didn't nail one arm to the cross. He finished the job, and then he came back for more.

* You can give Vishnu a high-five, and then one behind the back, but if you stop there the job is only half done.

* Don't be a Rabbi to new opportunities. Be a RabHello.

Funny Blog

You can never go wrong with a story about fried Twinkies.

WTF?

Pop quiz! Which of these methods is still a legal way to execute people in Utah?

a) If she floats, burn her.
b) Giving them the evil eye until they hang themselves in shame.
c) This.

What's next, "Carnegie Launches New Dirigible Service"? "The West Coast Will Soon Be Ours!" Declares Billionaire.

Dave Barry, Olssen's Bookstore in Arlington, Wed. 24

He is reading from a collection of his columns. (Olson's Bookstore is by the Courthouse Metro stop. For those of you who aren't familiar with D.C., I will put this in perspective: the Courthouse stop is next to the Roslyn stop.)

My love of Dave Barry, combined with my greater love of free stuff, means I'm going. If anyone is interested, I'll post details a few days before the event.

(Actually, I love Dave Barry in the same sense that I love The Simpsons, meaning it's something I used to be fond of but rarely keep up with anymore. But who knows what havoc "font size=+1" after the second "love" in that sentence would have played?)

Demons, I Exfoliate Thee!

Inspired by "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy", I bought my first face product to exfoliate my skin. An exfolitaor, I learned, and this may also come as a surprise to some of you, is a giant jar of salt. Scratch that. Lavender-scented salt. While it made for one of the tastier products applied to my skin (the others being "Mountain-Scented Irish Spring" and "Avalanche-Scented Afta After Shave"), I did feel silly rubbing greasy salt on my face.

The directions didn't help. "Gently exfoliate dry, dull skin from the surface revealing the radiant, healthy skin beneath." That's not a direction. That's marketing copy. It's like if this were on the back of a DiGornio's pizza: "Step 2: Mouthwatering pizza will leave you warm and satisfied." Product directions are usually insipid ("Put pizza in oven? Now I get it.") but when it comes to borderline alien lifeforms like giant jars of sea salt, I want to know where to stick it, where not to stick it, and how long to let it stick for. Because my skin is definitely not radiant, and considering the salt pellets stuck to my pimples, forming larger, lavender-scented pimples, calling my skin healthy is also a stretch.

Trader Joe's

I pointed out to the cashier that he charged me twice for a $2.49 box of cereal. He countered with a "Forgot to charge you for the salmon" ($4.29). Damn. When did the turnaround on karma become so efficient?

Junkfood Olympics

I wish there were a Junkfood Olympics. I ate a box of Ho-Hos in two days and, after scarfing down the last chocolate swirl coffin and pounding it down my cake-crusted esophagus, I was ready for more. Keep in mind, I am a triathlete. At the same time, I emptied a clip of 10 mini-sized Kit-Kats in my stomach and balanced the high sugar intake with some nutritious chocolate chip granola bars, which, to a homage to the granola that inspired it, were not double-dipped in chocolate.

What would the Junkfood Olympics news coverage be like?

SWEDISH OLYMPIC TEAM WARMUP BROWNIES LACED WITH THC; WHOLE TEAM ELIMINATED

RUSSIAN DISGRACES COUNTRY, EATS APPLE
'I am a fraud', cries Sergei.

U.S. VICTORY BITTERSWEET; TEAM CAPTAIN HAS HEART ATTACK, DIES, STILL FINISHES PIE

The Mendacity Index

The Washington Monthly asked a group of pundits and journalists to pick the most serious lies made by each of the past four Presidents. The magazine then picked the top 6 results for each President, and asked a panel to rate each lie on a 1-5 scale.

For me, Clinton ignoring the massacre in Rwanda and Bush Jr. entering the U.S. with a war on Iraq on false pretenses stand out far and above as the worst cases, even more than how the panel ranked these respective lies. And Reagan deserves a Lifetime Comedy award. Killer trees! That's pure genius.