"All these pills are enough to kill an elephant--never mind a man."

This story sounds like a grain of truth wrapped in a tumbleweed of B.S., but the quotes in it are hilarious:

Rush Limbaugh in pill probe

Ahh. Kicking a man while he's down.

Now that I think of it, "grain of truth wrapped in a tumbleweed of B.S" is a pretty good description of Rush.

Right in the balls!

The Link is Mine, Potter

I found this cool preview of the next Harry Potter book all by myself. Alan Rickman sure is hot as a puppet!

Schadenfreude Comes in the Fall

Is it just me, or have the past few months been a good time to be a liberal?

* Franken lays the smackdown on the right.

* BEST BUY CUSTOMER: "Mr. Bush? Um, about the three-year extended service plan for Iraq..."

* Hollywood spy movies fuel public anger about scandal--only bad guys rat out their country's agents.

And Rush Limbaugh makes an ass out of himself again. While talking about sports.

In the arena where "They were hungrier today" rivals Nietzsche, Limbaugh somehow found a way to say something stupid. His comments about African-American NFL quarterback Donavan McNabb:

"I don't think he's been that good from the get-go. I think what we've had here is a little social concern in the NFL. I think the media has been very desirous that a black quarterback do well. They're interested in black coaches and black quarterbacks doing well. I think there's a little hope invested in McNabb and he got a lot of credit for the performance of his team that he really didn't deserve. The defense carried this team."

I italicized those sentences to break Limbaugh's remarks into two sections. The first gives us a glimpse of his attitudes on race, which is consistent with statements he made before (see the article for some good examples). Some people, including a few presidential candidates, are calling for Rush to be fired based on his remarks in this section.

I'm calling on Rush to be fired based on the non-italicized section. Anyone who thinks Donovan McNabb is carried by his team is an idiot and doesn't deserve amplification equipment. McNabb is having a crappy year so far, but he's also a three-time Pro Bowl quarterback who led the Eagles to the NFC championship game in the last two seasons. I haven't seen him this season, but in the past, his ability to scramble with the ball forced most teams to dedicate a defensive player to keep an eye on him. In the seasons that the Eagles weren't doing well, McNabb was one of the few things they had going for him.

I wonder what's going in the mind of a fan fond of both the Philadelphia Eagles and Rush?

FAN: "McNabb good. Rush good. Rush say McNabb bad. McNabb say Rush bad. McNabb pass for 312 yards in one game. Rush pass gas. Ummm..."

Update: Rush resigned. Huh. That was fast. Damn you, liberal media! You already made my post outdated.

Thanks to the Grammar Granny, This is Now the Fifth Version of This Joke

Snack foods is one of the few industries where the question "How many z’s does cheez have?" is appropriate. The other industry--soy products.

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.

Just Curious

For those of you that I don't know, how did you find out about this site?

a) Fascinated with 1words.com through 1000words.com. Decided to take a chance.

b) Saw URL on tattoo (or "tat").

c) Guy with spiked tail and pitchfork told me. Said his name was Jesus. He talked the talk.

d) Mistyped "mancakecity.com". I want my man cake!

e) Looking for hot "aimal sex". Decided lukewarm comedy okay substitute.

f) (None of the above) ________________

Tomato Toes

Why isn’t there a brand of corn called "Children of the Corn"? This is just the type of nutritional shortsightedness caused by a lack of vitamins that makes me angry. Drug czars and pine green giants lament that kids don't eat more vegetables, yet there isn't not one corn company brave enough to draw little faces possessed by an evil force on all the kernels.

Of course, if you are a super-intelligent German, perhaps created by Nazi scientists in the 1930s and recently awaken from your cryogenic chamber, the solution is obvious: Herr Grosse Dollars, bilden diese produkte!

Peas in a Rod—A white rod with this on it: "Hey kids! Sugar inside!" The rod is stuffed with peas. That'll teach those muthafuckers.

BroccoDoReMi—Move over Snap, Crackle, and Pop. Broccoli stems and singing sensations Do, Re, and Mi are going to Vitamin K-ick it old school.

Mixed Vegetballs—Chunks of carrots, squash, cauliflower, and tomatoes, joining forces for the first time in a duct-taped ball. Dunk it in the hoop, then in your mouth.

Mystery Bag: This bag is covered in colorful question marks. It has no name, no logo, no nutrition facts, and no UPC code. Sometimes it appears in the freezer section. Other times in seafood, or inside a box of Cocoa Puffs. What wild surprise could it be? There's only one way to find out! And that way is to read this next sentence: the bag always contains brussel sprouts.

Iraqi Blog

A young Iraqi recently started a blog called Badghad Burning. Whatever your ideology, it's worth reading. What she says is much more illuminating about the Iraqis perception of the fallout after the war than the scattered one-sentence quotes from Iraqis that have made their way in newspaper stories or the nightly news.

Wow

I loved playing this adventure game . It takes about 15-30 minutes to complete. Sure, you may be at work, but it's Friday. Everybody plays adventure games on Friday.

Pickup Lines

When you ask someone, "Do you come here often?" aren't you really asking that person, "Are you a drunkard?" There has to be a better way to introduce yourself. Like, "Hey. A/S/L? Or, "I want to pop you like a zit on a teenage delivery boy." As long as you don't use a cliche, you're bound to do okay. Here are some examples on what not to do:

"My name is [insert name]. Remember it, because you'll be screaming it all night. Oh, crap. I forgot to insert my name."

"i've had my eye on you ever since I saw you from the bushes outside your apartment."

YOU: "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"
PERSON: [face and body charred] "SFJXEERARR!"

"I don't have a phone, because I hate technology, and I write manifestos and send them to newspapers, but if I get one, and I lose my number, can I borrow yours?"

"Psst. Cover me. I just farted."

"You're so hot that you melt the elastic in my Underoos. My Superman Underoos."

YOU: "Can I borrow a quarter?"
PERSON: "Sure."
YOU: "Can I borrow another quarter?"
PERSON: "Okay."
YOU: "Can I have another one?"
PERSON: "Why?"
YOU: "Because I'm going to call my Mom and tell her I just met the most beautiful person in the world. But then I remembered pay phones are now 50 cents. And then I thought, "What if she isn't home?" You see, the answering machine is set to pick up at two rings, and..."

YOU: "Can I take your picture?"
PERSON: "Why? So Santa can know exactly what you want for Chirstmas?"
YOU: "Actually, I'm just perverted."

Why I'm Single

I just called someone who responded to a personal ad a friend of mine put in the City Paper. He wasn't there. BEEEEP. I was about to leave a message when I realized I couldn't remember my phone number. ME: "Ummmmm....[click]"

I'm going to call back in a few minutes in a different voice.

I Made a Movie!

Coming in Summer 2004

(Movie maker link from little. yellow. different.)

Hey, Kids

Don't bother visiting Heineken's web site if you are under 21. You'll never make it through their impenetrable security procedure.

You Write Like A Girl

The Gender Genie says it can guess your gender based on a sample of your writing. I entered a passage from my blog. The program said I was a girl. I tried a few more entries. Female, female, female. Time to rig the result. I wrote, fifty times: "I have a nutsack. It is large and hairy." Female.

Passages from several other blogs? All female. Washington Post article? Female. Passage from Maxim's web site? Female. Comedy Central's description of "The Man Show"? Female.

Frustrated in my failure to find a selection of writing this algorithm finds manly, I decided to pull out both of my NRA-sponsored shotguns and write this:

Mmmm. Steak. I like football. And shooting things. Like deer. I can crush a beer can on my forehead. But it hurts. Long sentences suck. You know what else sucks? Your mamma. Ha ha ha. Alpha Phi rules!

So, what do you think? Female or male?

To Do

Note to self: Dye blue underwear...bluer.

Dumped

This entry is only loosely based on real events.

My therapist dumped me today. He said our relationship was going nowhere and he wanted to see other people. I reacted desperately, which, I suppose, being my therapist, he expected. "It’s the constant napping, isn't it? I’ll stop, I swear. I'll get a job. A real job, not an imaginary lemonade stand. I'm through selling imagination. Really. Trust me."

Of course, he couldn’t trust me. I have less follow-through than a Gary Coleman uppercut. (Look, give me a break. It’s 1:45 A.M.) This is the conversation we had 15 minutes before:

THERAPIST: "You said you would apply to three temp agencies last week. How did you do?"
ME: "Temp agencies?"
THERAPIST: "Yup."
ME: "Hmmm. That's a good idea."
THERAPIST: "You said that last week."
ME: "Oh, yeah."
THERAPIST: "And the week before that."
ME "Has anyone ever told you that you have an excellent memory?"
THERAPIST: "What stopped you from applying to any temp agencies?"
ME: "God?"
THERAPIST: "God stopped you from applying to any temp agencies?"
ME: "You said it, not me."
THERAPIST: "Look, I don't want to be the bad guy--"
ME: "Thanks! So, how about that sport team? Man, they look really, uh, sporty this year."

So it’s over. I feel as depressed as I did two years ago when my hair stylist threw down her scissors and yelled, "You give me nothing to work with!" before storming out the door, crying. As the door squealed shut, a gust of wind swept over my hair, waving the few remaining follicles on my forehead back and forth. Goodbye, goodbye.

Anyone Need a Wig?

I trimmed my body hair today, quashing Sasquatch, Deconstructing Harry, and giving my two albino nipples the gift of light. I also shaved my back hair using the beard trimmer on my electric razor. Do you know where those spots on your back are that you can’t scratch? I do. For $5 I’ll take a photo and send you the road map. For $7 I won’t send the photo. (Bada-bing!)

The benefits were immediate. No more towel burns from drying off. I now run faster than the lowly cheetah. And I finally found that tattoo I got one very blurry night in Ocean City when I was a freshman in college. It’s a good thing monkeys wearing diapers that say “Bad Boy” on them never go out of style.

So You Want To Be Employed

Guess what step 1 is for this Federal government writer-editor position I am applying for? I'll give you a hint: it invloves answering 156 FRIGGIN' QUESTIONS. I haven't check what step 2 is because THESE INANE QUESTIONS HAVE CRUSHED MY DESIRE TO LIVE. Who the hell remembers what grade they got in their high school oral communication class? "Have you owned and successfully managed your own profit-making business?" Yes, yes I have. It's called Suck My Nutsack, Gov'mint (Inc). We're open for business 24 hours a day.

You know you're career is going downhill...

...when a stripper sues a tabloid for saying she had sex with you.

Remove Meal from Oven with Glove

If I worked for a frozen food company, I would write really dumb instructions for the boxes, just to see if people would follow them.

“Wrap burrito in tin foil. Put into microwave for five minutes. Come on, do it. Don’t be a pussy.”

Eight Is Not E-nuff

Is Schwarzenegger trying to assemble a political team or a sitcom? First Warren Buffet joins. Then George Schultz. Now there's a rumor that Rob Lowe is going to hop on the Bahnwagon. And this is ignoring Gary Coleman's recent comment that "it would be cool if he could join the Schwarzenegger campaign."

On that note, this web site has several funny articles about the "Little G for Governor" campaign.

Update: Lowe is in.

Guess Which Presidency?

"We are here plunged in politics funnier than words can express. Very great issues are involved...But the amusing thing is that no one talks about real interests. By common consent they agree to let these alone. We are afraid to discuss them. Instead of this the press is engaged in a most amusing dispute whether Mr. Cleveland has an illegitimate child and did or did not live with more than one mistress."

--Henry Adams, 19th century political commentator, quoted in A People's History of the United States (pg 258).

Great Movie, Great Song, Great Book

I just watched Solaris (revised version). It's an atypical science fiction movie about choice, loss, and a deep desire I suspect we all have and are able to suppress solely for the fact that it can't be fulfilled (in the real world).
Warning: Movie contains no aliens, no laser guns, and occasional periods with no dialogue.

"The Shy Retirer" by Arab Strap (CD info)

A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn. This is the most revealing history book I have ever read. Okay, I've only read two history books, but this one is definitely the shiz-nit. I'm only a third of the way through it and already it has helped me understand the other forces behind the creation and growth of this country. For example, it may be obvious that people with power and wealth will do what they can to keep their power and wealth (and gain more), but this is the first history book I read that uses this principle to explain part of the motivation for America being formed, rather than idolizing the founders of the country as being solely motivated by a passionate belief in freedom and liberty.

I'll post a few quotes from the book in the next several days. I highly recommend buying a copy, but if you read it and didn't like it, I'm interested in knowing why.

Graphics Request

This chart of military hand signals is pretty funny. I'd like to try captioning a chart like this. Does anyone know where I can get a graphic of a similar instructional chart (e.g. airline safety)? I would offer to rename the site a moniker of your choosing for a few days, but you can already do that.

FOX News Loves Al Franken

Stories like this make me happy to be alive. This lawsuit is almost too funny to be true.

What Blog Personality Are You?

This test is a short version of the Myers-Briggs personality test (the one that classifies you as one of 8 personality types-- INFT, ESTJ, etc.) The results are rewritten to tell you what type of blogger you are. It's only four questions but I agree with the answer (see comments). So, what blog personality are you? (Thanks to Sorting Thoughts for the link to the test.)

Mysteries of the Universe

How does Colin Quinn get work? I ask this question seriously. It keeps me up at night. I can speak better than him, and I stutter. Someone should give him a medal for being brave enough to write his own jokes, and them whack him with another medal to make him stop. What does this twitchy ball of energy do before delivering every one-liner, snort one?

If C.Q. were a magazine, it would be written in crayon, a third of the pages would be numbered, and every issue would have a 16-page photo spread of three chimpanzees and a movie monkey flinging crap at each other. Mysteriously, it would only sell four issues a month but still be published for three years.

Last night in his monologue, he complained that he has never gotten invited to host an awards show. How about instead being grateful for the existence of inertia? Colin Quinn should hire a conceptual artist to make a statue representing inertia and one-up the Muslims he makes fun in every show by kissing its ass six times a day.

Okay, my crankiness is over. Thanks for reading.

Another Reason I Love My Mom

I ate dinner with my Mom tonight. She made soy-marinated fish and a bowl of pesto. Afterwards, we talked about work and death. Her mother passed away last week, and a few days ago, she started a potentially permanent position in the FDA that has more pay and responsibility than the one she is on leave for.

You know how there are a few thoughts that are more difficult to share than others? I hesitated before I told her this: I worry a lot that people I love will suddenly die. My mom reassured me in a way that only she could:

MOM: "Don’t worry. I’m not planning on dying. I just got a promotion."

Mom, thank you for being such a nut.

(Afterwards, when I asked if I could write about this on my web page, she clapped her hands and said: "Yes! I’m going to be famous!")

No Problem!

I love taking Yahoo news headlines literally.

Unabomber seeks return of papers, bomb

"Unabomber Ted Kaczynski has asked the government to return his personal papers and other materials, including a bomb seized by the FBI."

FBI AGENT1: "If we give you your bomb back, do you promise not to use it?"
KACZYNSKI: "Yes."
FBI AGENT2: "Cross your heart and hope to die?"
KACZYNSKI: "Yes."
FBI AGENT1: "Stick a needle in your eye?"
KACZYNSKI: "I promise."
FBI AGENT2: "Okay, Ted. Here you g--"
FBI AGENT3: [from behind one-way glass] "Murphy, wait! He has his fingers crossed!"

Somebody explain this to me

On the billboard of a local gas station:

"$17.95 Oil Change! Ladies Day!"

LOL!

Which of these headlines appeared on AOL today?

a) Armless child embraces life

b) Armless but not harmless: paraplegic killer strikes again

c) Armless child embraces life...without arms! No, really. We're fuckin' serious.

My Mom, Stealing Laughs

My mom was born to be a professional heckler. A sample of her comments Wednesday night at the comedy club:

COMEDIAN: "I haven't been doing well lately. My girlfriend broke up with me."
MOM: [to us] "Lucky her."

(in the middle of the act of one lame comic)
MOM: [loudly] "Let's go!"

During the last comic, Michele kicked me to get my attention. I turned and saw my Mom, pretending to be asleep. The comic saw her and had a sad look on his face.

After the show, Mom found a youth group having a late pizza dinner in the hotel. She and Michele barged into the room and zeroed in on the pizza. One of the adults asked her if she was part of the group. I forgot what answer she said she gave him, but whatever it was, it had absolutely no effect on them each walking out with a slice of pizza. The two of them then badgered Evan (Michele's boyfriend) to steal them some more pizza.

M & M then prodded me for the next five minutes to show my blood allegiance by stealing a slice. Keep in mind, neither of them were the least bit hungry at this point. They just wanted to make sure I was still committed to the clan. Now, I have no moral problems redistributing free food. It makes me feel like Jesus. But I was tired from pre-performance stress and I have a knee-jerk reaction to peer pressure, so I picked this as my one monthly fight I get to win.

Eventually, their chicanery-induced adrenaline highs subsided and they let up their attack. We ended the night sitting on the curb outside eating slices of a decent vegetarian pie while Mom gave us tips on how to eat for free if we ever become homeless.

Ah. Family.

Schwarzenegger for Governor?

The campaign speech:
"It's time for a recall—A Total Recall. Ha ha ha ha."

The stressful week before the election:
"Who told you could eat my cookies?"

The day after the election:
"You people are soft! You lack discipline! Well, I've got news for you. YOU ARE MINE NOW! YOU BELONG TO ME!"

Interviewing people for government posts:
AIDE: [whispering] "Sir, perhaps we should base our hires on qualifications rather than--"
SCHWARZENEGGER: "Shut up! We will do this my way. [to applicant] Who is your daddy, and what does he do?"

Two years in the term:
REPORTER: "Mr. Governor, about your recent health problems--"
SCHWARZENEGGER: "It's not a tu-mor!"

Back in a Day or Two

I have family visiting so I might not post for the next few days. I don't even have time to find an animated GIF of a monkey dancing for your amusement. Sorry.

Archenemy

After reading my post on a personal ad, my archenemy, unprovoked and for absolutely no reason other than to inflict another cruelty upon myself, placed a personal ad in the CityPaper under my name. The ad, as you can see for yourself, is absolutely devoid of truth, wit, and creativity. Its only two notable traits is that it manages to take a crap on the English language in less than 50 words and, unlike 90% of said archenemy's writing, is miraculously free of misspellings.

Okay, the ad is mostly true, but that's not the point. The point is that I am a wonderful person who treats all my friends kindly and never, ever does anything mean like play practical jokes on them. Any comments otherwise are complete lies, probably said by Lenny McLiar of Liartown.

Acres of Hilarity

I just got back from doing stand-up at WiseAcres. My confidence was shaken from a couple bad experiences I had in a row, so I wrote and practiced my routine every day for the past week, stacked the audience with my family, and went up hoping for the best. I'm happy with how it turned out. Most of my material got a great response. I stuttered more severely than I would have liked, and it got in the way in a few places, but I did a decent job making jokes about it with the audience.

As much as I hate bombing, at least those times give me funnier stories to write.

I'm not planning on putting an mp3 of the performance or any ones in the near future. It's kind of like the fifth kid in the family who gets screwed with the baby pictures. Wow. Another baby. Woo. Take it to Sears for a family photo once a year and be done with it. But if you still want to listen to it, I'll digitalize it and email you a link.

Personals

I'm going to sign up for a few online dating sites soon. I've been thinking of lines that will make me sound both sexy and mysterious, like Barry White sung in Cantonese. What I have so far:

Things You Should Know About Me
I like mittens. They’re gloves without problems.

GET OFF MY HEAD, PANTS!

Drinking/Smoking Habits
The only thing I smoke is the pipe—The Pipe of Not Smoking. And I stuff it with the Tobacco of Occasionally Drinking.

Celebrity I Resemble Most
Hitler. (Note: My member name is Hip Hop Hitler and my photo is Hitler with a Rastafarian cap.)

Occupation
Breakdancing Fool that will take you to school*
* Sir Mix-a-Lot Elementary. Principal: Grand Master Flash

Comments

I added a comments feature. Now, instead of screaming and angrily shaking your fist at the monitor, you can write comments like "This post is so funny that it made me do the Maori Happy Shake Fist Dance." Or: "I love Captain Piccard too. Set phasers to love." What fun! I use this feature to leave obnoxious comments on my friends' web sites. (Read comment, then read next day's comment.)

New Title

Sammy requested that I change the blog title to "Glass Squash for Pumpkin Bob." I turned to my Number 1 and said in my best Captain Piccard voice: "Make it so." Although my Number 1 is a balloon with a grumpy face and "JONATHAN FRAKES" scribbled on the forehead, "Make it so" is still fun to say. In fact, it's so enjoyable to say that I have integrated the phrase in my life.

WAITER: "Would you like another coke?"
ME: "Make it so."

CASHIER: "With a regular fries and coke, it's $4.13."
SISTER: "Get it supersized so I can have some of your fries."
ME: "You know the magic word."
SISTER: [sigh] "Captain, I recommend that you supersize the meal."
ME: [to cashier] "Make it so, Number 1."
CASHIER: "I used to be more than a number."

SEWING MACHINE REPAIR PERSON: "What do you want me to do?"
ME: "Make it so."

Sammy says there is an interesting story behind the blog name. I'm guessing a Cinderella tie-in. Sammy, what's the story?

The Dark Underbelly of Harry Potter

As I mentioned before, over the past month I have been pleading, arguing, and cajoling my sister Michele to give her copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix to me, a true Harry Potter fan, instead of my bandwagon sister Tina, although Michele did promise to lend Tina the book first.

After a fortuitous mishap with Michele's move from L.A. that required her to use my services, I was able to secure the treasured tome on the condition that I refrain from mentioning our backdoor deal to Tina, who, although as an H.P. pretenda has no real reason to gripe, would do her equivalent of a Howler (punching me and Michele in the stomach) if she found out. (Actually, it's mostly punching me. She likes punching me better than Michele for some reason. I suppose it is my four daily sit-ups.)

Although I joked about telling Tina about the deal, I wasn't planning on doing it. Okay, I was planning on doing it, but I wasn't planning on doing it today. I wanted to finish the book first before alerting her and risking it being stolen before I was done. Then I got this call from my Mom:

MOM: "It's me."
JASON: "Hi Mom."
MOM: "I'm going to blow the whole lid off your operation."
JASON: "What?"
MOM: "I'm writing an email to Tina telling her all about what you and Michele planned."
JASON: "You can't do that."
MOM: [laughing, clapping hands] "Yes I can! It's all written. I just have to press send."
JASON: "Just give me a few hours. I want to call and read her the first page. It'll be funny."
MOM: [glum] "Okay. I'll give you until morning."

I mention this story in case any of you ever come in contact with any member of my family (sans me). If you do, do not ever, ever, ever tell them a secret or any fact even remotely related. ESPECIALLY anything related to birthday or Christmas presents.

In fact, don't even let on that you know a secret. They (okay, occasionally me too) will use a series of extremely clever and almost unresistable secret-breaking devices, such as "What if I die tonight?" and the classic, "You distract him / lock him in the bathroom while I search his room for our presents."

This is not an exaggeration. The night before Mother's Day, Mom asked if she could have her presents now. Tina said no. Mom said, "What if I die tonight? Won't you feel guilty that I died and I didn't get my presents before I went?" Tina's mouth dropped in shock. Our dad passed away when we are young, and all of us have a lingering fear that our Mom will leave us just as suddenly as Dad did. I laughed. I never knew Mom could hit so hard below the belt.

And the best part is, Mom couldn't care less about the $20 shirt that we got her. She just wants to get it when she's not supposed to. We all do. Michele could be happy getting a ball of tape as a present as long as it is expertly wrapped and she got it a day early by listening to Tina mumble away its secret hiding place the night before in her sleep.

(I wasn't planning on getting into this much detail. I already have a few more paragraphs I'm not going to post yet. It'll be in a future column.)