Friday, July 30, 2004
Thursday, July 29, 2004
Generic Diflucan For All!
This is the best show ever! Today, Ferny thought he wasn't really Irish because his dad came from Spain! Piggley thought he was ultra Irish because HIS parents were Irish, but then his Mom told him that Granny was from Germany! Dannan discovered that she was also Danish and Welsh! Then Cobi Jones showed up and drove the point home somehow! Jakers! JAKERS!
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
He Burns the Jungle for No Reason
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
See? Women Don't Really Pay Attention to Politics.
And to think that I liked the cut of his jib. Bug's ear. How I embarrass myself. Oop, look at the time.
Shut Up For a Minute
Monday, July 26, 2004
I've Been Busy, and For Nothing. Nothing!
Sunday, July 18, 2004
I've Missed the Hell Out of You, My Darlings
Where did dear old Stanislaus disappear to? He was off to camp the Adirondacks and he never came back. Moreover, he had my only copy of TV Guide’s '1000 Most Exciting Television Moments.' And yes, he tended to have bad breath, and his hair was falling out due to his extreme fear of mountain cats. But was he all bad? Let us consider his other issues:
-His taste in rugs and window treatments was unconscionable
-He maintained massive inventories of over-the-counter medications
-When he farted, he blamed it on his shoes
-When he wasn’t large and in charge, he was large and sleeping heavily
-He did not notice when the city water had an odor
-He could barely speak for weeping
-The local tavern carried special freezer steaks just for him
-Mother’s health was all a joke to him
-When Walter Mondale was in town, he was nowhere to be found
-He took his interest in tunnels too far and collapsed the root cellar
-To this day I’m paying off his Ax-Man account
-Eight years of Little League taught him nothing
-He had “actionable ideas” for outwitting the Amazing Randi
-Tight socks concerned him
When I stop to really think about Stanislaus and where he could have gone, I usually fall into a larger, more metaphysical think-hole. Where have ALL my friends and acquaintances gone? Sigh. I suspect that spiders have eaten a great many of them. Probably because of something I did.
Saturday, July 17, 2004
Nobody In Here But Us Anchovies
I rarely eat brie cheese. When I do eat brie, I do not eat the rind. I eat up to the rind, and then I stop and move on to other things, like the grapes, or television. This seems to baffle regular brie eaters, who, upon noticing my uneaten rinds, stare at me from behind their feedbags in confusion and hurt. When they come to their senses, they usually eat my rinds for me. This pattern has repeated itself for as long as I’ve known brie.
I would like to tell you more about my experiences with cheese, but it’s very difficult to remember cheese anecdotes. While you’re waiting for my next anecdote, why not enjoy these loosely phonetic lyrics:
HEY, durDAY, BABY I GOT chur MUHnay DONcha WURRay, durDAY
BABY I GOT chur MUNnay, said HEY, (x2)
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Accept No Invitations to My House
Sunday, July 11, 2004
This One's For the Ladies
No amount of ram-sacrifice or idolater-slaying will lift the plague on the term “bimonthly.” Does it mean twice a month? No. Does it mean every two months? No. It means that every tomfool or dictionary I consult has a different effing answer for me. This naturally raises a sensitive issue: are the triumphs of medical science destroying natural selection and ruining our chances of evolving into gigantic, sexy, emotionless brainpods with wheels for legs? Maybe. And, since I am obviously opposed to the progress of medical science, does that mean that I want all asthmatics to die preventable deaths? Hell, no! Not the asthmatics I know! But all those asthmatics who’ve made no attempt to get to know me? Eh.
Why do birds suddenly appear every time I am near? The answer is simple: I am a one-stop bupkis shop.
Saturday, July 10, 2004
Modern Art Ruined My Summer
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
Sunday, July 04, 2004
It was a remarkable feeling, that feeling I had. There I was, posed on the stair like a decorated hero, glaring into the wind and suppressing the urge, when, like a lozenge to the throat, the soothing reached the strep: something that used to blight me was gone. Not only just gone – it had been gone for some time, and the blissful interval between the exit and the realization was as a second youth wasted. It was foolish, really, to let a milestone of such rare quality pass without a jolly drunk or a tray of cookies.
And who was this grisly offender that passed silently in the night? Was it Emmy Award-winning “Frasier”? Was it the California recall election? Was it George magazine, trucker hats, or Greta Van Susteren’s first face? No, no, nothing like. It was merely the passing of that hideous vintage clothing fad.