I Can't Believe It's Not Butter

I Can't Believe It's Not Butter

Nothing on the blog for a couple of days. I've been pondering something pretty deep.

I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.

I just can't.

Have you tried it? I Can't Believe it.

If I did believe that it isn't butter, I fear I'd be tried for heresy.

A question?

They have a light version of the product.

Shouldn't they call it I Can't Believe It's Not I Can't Believe It's Not Butter....

Or do they charge by the letter?

It's a little late. These are the things that are on my mind.

Dear Dusty

Dear Dusty

Dear Dusty,

Yesterday, I watched a baseball contest played between the clubs from Milwaukee and Colorado. Coincidentally, it is the same Colorado team that you are playing today.

I saw the Milwaukee club (The Brewers, or Brew Crew, if you will) bludgeon Colorado very nearly to death.

In Milwaukee's victory, they ran like mad over the Colorado pitching staff. Specifically, in beating upon the starter, they forced Colorado to pitch a goodly number of the innings of the game using relief pitching.

As such, I would bet that a great number of their relievers are a little tired, today. Ineffective, even. Even moreso than they have been this year.

That said, I turned on my television this afternoon, just in time to hear that Rockies starter Jason Jennings had just relieved the Cubs in the fourth inning on four pitches.

Four!

Now, I'm not very adept at my maths, but if he were to average 4 pitches an inning, he'd just have to throw the ball 36 times.

Granted, four is a low, and maybe something of an anomaly.

However, if I may, I would like to offer you and your hitters a word of advice. Three words, even. You may have heard, because I just hollered them at my television set:

Take a Pitch.

I left the obscenity I yelled out, because such words are not polite.

Even a shithead like you deserves respect in polite conversation.

Take a pitch, I say again. Take a few pitches. Here's the thing: The Colorado batters can't hit anything, here lately. I know this owing to that I had about 7 of them on my fantasy team, so far this season.

So, while I appreciate aggression, and I realize that you can't win without scoring runs...the runs might be a little easier to get if you'd just tell your batsmen to ease up at the plate, and let the Rockies starter wear himself out, so that we might feast upon the juicy innards of the Rockies' bullpen.

You see, if the Cubs are using four pitches in an inning, Mr. Jennings could concievably throw upwards of 30 to 32 innings. Which would be a record, I would guess, outside of a W.P. Kinsella novel.

So. We'll never see that bullpen unless we get the batters to take a few pitches.

One more thing:

Just because the Rockies have been losing on the road doesn't necessarily mean that they will lose, just because they're playing in the Friendly Confines. (In fact, the Rockies are "winning" right now.) Hence, you probably shouldn't be taking your brain out and playing with it prior to the game. You might need to use it come game time.

Even if it is the Rockies.

So. That's all I have to say.

Hug the family for me, you big dope.

Tommy

Today's Funny

Today's Funny

Danielle has looked into public sentiment on the matter of Tom Cruise on Oprah.

Don't know why it's funny. It just is. All I know is that I watch a piece of one episode of Ms Winfrey's show, and I get Two Whole Posts out of it. God Bless America.

Personally, I still like the idea of Oprah getting tired of the whole interview and ending the thing by using her mind powers to simply shut his mind off.

A late night link

A late night link

The other day, I wandered into a room where somebody was watching Oprah, and in this episode of the Oprah Winfrey Show, she was interviewing Tom Cruise.

Not that I let myself get dragged into watching an Oprah interview or anything, but I kinda let myself get dragged into watching an Oprah interview. Danielle had much the same opinion of Mr. Cruise's demeanor that I did.

He's got a little too much energy. He's a little too touchy-feely. Trying a little too hard to be the Tom Cruise Who Just Loves People. And when he got asked about one (or maybe more than one) of his kids being bi-racial, he gave an answer that had all the right words, politically speaking. But they came out in a tone of voice that was...well...not in line with the words that were coming out of his mouth.

I felt like it would have been appropriate for Oprah to have ended the interview right then.

"Right words, wrong tone of voice," she would say. Then she'd snap her fingers. And then Steadman would emerge from offstage and kill Tom Cruise. Because I believe that's what Steadman does. He crushes people with his giant hands.

I know that last part because my Mom went to high school with Steadman, and she saw him crush people with his giant hands.

There is only one part of that last sentence that is true.

Possum

Possum

You know, in the dictionary, it's spelled opossum. Which is ridiculous. English being the evolving, ever-changing beast that it is, I say we all agree to make a conscious semantic leap forward, and just start spelling the North American marsupial "Possum," and be done with it.

I bring the possum up because I saw a live one on my drive home from work tonight.

It's kind of a rare thing for me.

See, I've seen plenty of possums in my time.

But most of them have been dead. Crushed to death on a road, somewhere.

Is possum Latin for roadkill?

Tonight, I saw a live one.

On the road, actually. In the other lane.

We locked eyes as I passed. I think in passing him by, I saw in that possum's eyes that I may have denied him his destiny.

Maybe possums live in a strange warrior-type society, where the only way to possum heaven is under the tires of a passing automobiles. A possum who dies of old age is not a true possum. He will spend his eternity at the gates of Possum Valhalla, never to sup at the Warrior's table.

Maybe. I don't know. There just hasn't been enough scientific study into the religious implications and belief structures of possum society.

If I had to think about it, and even if I didn't have to think about it, I'd say that I've seen just a handful of live possums in my life. Maybe a dozen, give or take. They're nocturnal. I'm basically a day person. They're woodsy. I like the woods, but mostly I sleep indoors. And really, possums and I just don't run in the same social circles.

Conversely, I've seen several dead possums. In fact, I would think the ratio would run somewhere close to 8 to 1. Maybe even 10 to one. It seems excessive, but I think the math would bear me out.

Just thinking out loud.

A couple of questions that I ask myself, here at 1:30 in the morning.

1.) Is it possible that there are possums, alive, that I am not seeing? I'm thinking this is probably the case.
2.) If there are live possums that I am not seeing, I wonder how many of them there are.
3.) And as a followup to that, those possums that I cannot see, why are they hiding from sight? Are they planning something? Should I be doing anything to protect myself from a possible possum plundering?

Ah well. I don't have any real way to tie up this bit of nonsense, so I think I'll close by saying I think "Possum Valhalla" would be an awesome name for a band, or perhaps a bar.

Field of Dreams

Field of Dreams

Just wanted to point you in the direction of a really nice post: Sheila's thoughts on Field of Dreams.

Wrasslin' Thoughts

Wrasslin' Thoughts

Got to sit down and watch tonight's Raw live, for the first time in a couple of weeks.

The ECW PPV is coming up here in a few weeks. So what do we do? Squash a former ECW Champion with a guy whose time in the spotlight should be limited to Sunday Night Heat. That's disappointing enough. But if ever there were a perfect time to do an ECW Arena Style Lights Out/Lights On reveal, it would have been when Masters had Stevie in the nelson. Lights come back on to reveal, I dunno, Sandman standing in the ring with a kendo stick. Or Tommy Dreamer.

Or how about Sabu? I'm thinking Raw needs Sabu.

Put a few of the ECW faces on camera. See if you can get an extra two or three thousand buys for the PPV. It can't hurt.

Also: The crowd has largely been indifferent to Chris Masters. For months now. It seems to me that Project Masters has failed. But I've got a feeling he'll be on our TV for a long, long time.

Okay.

There were a couple really good segments, I thought.

It's nice to see a Shelton Benjamin/Chris Jericho feud finally shifting gears and moving foward. Benjamin has the tools. He needs a talent like Jericho, who is one of the better in-ring storytellers of this generation, to show him exactly what it means to tell a story in the ring.

Now they can do it.

Also? It may have been cheesy, but I enjoyed the hell out of seeing Vince McMahon, Eric Bischoff and Paul Heyman in the ring at the same time. I had to wonder what if felt like to be Eric Bischoff, and have McMahon out there reminding you about what it percieved to be your greatest career failure in front of the audience, God and everybody.

I guess so long as he's getting paid.

You know Vince had to enjoy that, being the boss of the other two members of the Big Three promotions of the 90's, and lording it over them in the middle of a WWE ring.

Lastly? How much crap did Matt Hardy break at his house, watching Edge and Lita do their promo? What if Lita had slipped when giving her sermon on Kane, and said "Matt?"

We were thinking there's a TV in North Carolina with a bullet hole in it right about now.

Geek, Dweeb or Spaz?

Geek, Dweeb or Spaz?

Today, I've managed to trip on a smooth, tile floor. I've shut my shirt in my truck door. And I realized that I've been walking around for about three hours with a dryer sheet sticking out of my left sleeve.

Today? I am King Spaz.

Today's Funny

Today's Funny

Crying While Eating.

Pete had the link.

Ladders

Ladders

Okay, so I just got up a few minutes ago, and I'm seeing this commercial on the TV for the Little Giant Ladder System, which is a ladder that folds into several different positions. You can use it in the house, out of the house.

Fold it one way to use as a step ladder.

Fold it another to be able to reach the tallest guttering on your house

You can use it as scaffolding!

The commercial tells me to Imagine what I can do with this ladder, and it shows a constructive, driven feller doing things like painting the top of a wall in a room, then cleaning the gutters, and then hanging Christmas lights.

Imagine what you can do!

Personally? I'd imagine that all those things look like work.

Sounds to me like, if I don't have a multi-folding ladder, I have the perfect excuse not to paint the ceiling, clean the gutters or hang the Christmas lights.

If I were marketing this amazing folding ladder (which advertises itself as being 24 tools in one), I'd market to the viewers at home that not having a ladder doesn't keep you from having to do these chores. I'd drive that point home.

Here's how I'd market it:

The commercial opens with a voice over: "You know you have work to do, right?"

I'd show a feller, jeans and a t-shirt, trying to watch the game in his recliner.

"Yeah, right," he says, as he cracks a beer and sticks a hand in the front of his pants, Al Bundy style.

Then, I'd show his wife screaming about getting the chores done.

"Clean the gutter!" she'd say.

And you see this guy traipsing around the house, and pulling the big giant ladder out of the garage.

You see him finish the difficult chore, perhaps nearly falling in the process, and then sit back down.

His wife then screams "Paint the Ceiling!"

This feller, whom we haven't named yet but whom we will henceforth refer to as Cecil, wanders to the garage, gets the big tall ladder, won't have it fit in the house.

"You idiot!" his wife says.

Then, Cecil gets the smaller ladder. He paints the ceiling.

As Cecil sits in his recliner again, he hears "Hang the Christmas lights!"

Cecil gets the small ladder. As he climbs, he pulls a Clark Griswold and breaks a window.

"You imbecile!" his wife yells.

The next shot you see is Cecil getting red faced and angry. Then he runs violently, with malice on his face, off screen.

And the very next shot you see is Cecil, behind bars.

The voiceover says "If he had the Little Giant Ladder System, Cecil wouldn't be facing the death penalty today..."

Then you show all handy uses for the Little Giant Ladder System.

"If he had the Little Giant Ladder System," the voiceover would say as the shot goes to Cecil in the recliner, "Cecil would be sitting here,"

And the voiceover would finish:"Instead of here." The last shot of the commercial should be Cecil being strapped into the electric chair.

I really think that would drive the point home, just how much we need a Little Giant Ladder System.

Me? I've got a folding ladder system. And I've never been on death row. Not once.

Though it's not a Little Giant Ladder System.

On the strength of my own advertisement, I'm thinking of getting one. Just in case.

Tagged

Tagged

From Barry:

1) Total number of films I own on DVD/video:

I'd figure a hundred or so on DVD, give or take a few. I've done several culls on the VHS, so I'm probably down to a dozen.

update: I counted just now. I was off by about 41. 141 movies on DVD, and that's not counting the dozen TV Seasons (Simpsons, Futurama, West Wing, Penn & Teller's Bullshit....)

2) The last film I bought:

I got Team America at Best Buy last week, and picked up Jurassic Park III on a splurge while checking out.

3) The last film I watched:

I started The Rapture yesterday. Kevin Smith recommended it in one of his essays, based on David Duchovny's performance. I'm about an hour in.

4) Five films that I watch a lot or that mean a lot to me (in no particular order):

This time we'll say:

Star Wars
This is Spinal Tap
Young Frankentstein
Dr. Strangelove
Ghostbusters

A Milestone

A Milestone

Reached a milestone this evening.

The two-hundred-thousandth milestone, to be exact.

Answering a Meme Challenge

Answering a Meme Challenge

Chris at A Large Regular asked for people to follow up.

Here goes:

Q: Total volume of music files on my computer:

668. Didn't think it was that many. Must be all those multiple recordings of the soundtrack to Annie.

Q: The last CD I bought:

I've bought more here in the past couple of months than I have in the last three years. A couple of Waifs CDs. I found a couple of Mojo Nixon discs used the other day.

But remember how I had Pat Benatar's "We Belong" going through my head? I was contemplating getting it out using a drill, but I found her greatest hits CD at the used CD store the other day for sixty eight cents. So I bought it.

I put that sumbitch on repeat, and listened until I got sick of it.

It worked. So far.

Q: Song playing now:

I've got the TV going in the background. ESPN Classics is showing some old baseball newsreels. They're going on about Casey Stengel right now. They're playing a "Yankee Doodle Dandy" riff in the background.

Q: Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me:

Here Lately I've been listening to:

A Boy named Sue, as performed by Johnny Cash
It's a Great Day (to whoop somebody's ass) by Paul Thorn
A live version of R.E.M.'s Man in the Moon
Cecilia, by Simon and Garfunkel
A live version of Crazy Train, as performed by the Waifs.

I'm looking for 5 bloggers to continue the meme - so if you'd like to volunteer to answer these 4 questions on your blog - please let me know in the comments and I'll link to your responses on this post.

Rob plays along....

The Late Night Out Of Context William H. Macy Quote

The Late Night Out of Contest William H. Macy Quote

Coming to you live from from 2:26 in the morning:

From the Jurassic Park III, making of documentary:

"We got our asses rolled."
---William H. Macy

and....

"We were banged....."
----William H. Macy

Jurassic Park III thoughts

Jurassic Park III thoughts

I stopped by Best Buy the other day to buy my copy of Team America.

There was but one checkout open, and I found myself in queue (a word/turn of phrase funny perhaps only to me--honestly, I've been laughing for minutes...no word should be allowed to have that many vowels in a row.) next to the the impulse splurge rack. You know, where they keep all the things like the cokes, the earbuds for your MP3 player and the cheap DVDs.

I stood, waiting to check out, next to the cheap DVD's. What should be right there in my line of sight but the widescreen edition of Jurassic Park III?

Well, finding myself surprisingly open to suggestion, I pulled Jurassic Park III off the rack.

Now, bear in mind that I've perhaps had a few too many beers while watching said movie, but there is but one thought I have to offer on a movie I haven't seen since I first saw it in the movie theater.

Seriously...if I'm trapped on an island full of lizardly predators, I can think of roughly 3 billion people I'd rather have on my side than a character played by the late Michael Jeter.

I mean, seriously. Why not have the plane piloted by a guy played by Jean Claude Van Damme? At least then you get to have a cool fight scene. Wouldn't you pay good money to see Jean Claude throw down with a raptor? I mean, we know he couldn't whup a Stegosaurus, but a Velociraptor might be a good fight.

With Michael Jeter, all you get is screaming with a southern accent.

I get that at least twice a day from myself, because nobody around McMinn County knows how to use their turn signal.

Star Wars Reading

A Shout Out

Barry does good work over at Inn of the Last Home.

It's posts like this one, brought on by the opening of Episode III in the Star Wars series: a look at the parallels being drawn between his and his son's life, that serve to remind me why I make his site a regular read.

Barry blogs from the heart. And that's not me being a doofus. He does good work. Go check him out.

Thursday

Thursday

You scored as Postmodernist. Postmodernism is the belief in complete open interpretation. You see the universe as a collection of information with varying ways of putting it together. There is no absolute truth for you; even the most hardened facts are open to interpretation. Meaning relies on context and even the language you use to describe things should be subject to analysis. Postmodernist 75% Cultural Creative 63% Existentialist 56% Idealist 50% Materialist 44% Romanticist 38% Modernist 31% Fundamentalist 6% What is Your World View? (corrected...hopefully) created with QuizFarm.com

Seen at Sheila's.

Stegosaur = Badass

Stegosaurus = Badass

Today's reading:

Some scientist type says Stegosaur plates and spikes were for looks.

Now, I don't have any kind of formal training or experience when it comes to things dinosaur. But I have knowledge in my soul that I need to share with you people. Something I've known better than my own name, for all my life.

I'm here to whip some knowledge at you, some truth, if you will, about Stegosaurs.

Facts:

1. Stegosaur is a badass
2. Stegosaur can speak many languages
3. There are no Stegosaurs in the land of Oz.
4. Stegosaur can whip your ass.
5. Stegosaur has three opposable thumbs.
6. Those plates? Badass.
7. He'll stab you with his tail spikes. So watch it.
8. Some Stegosaurs are vampires
9. Badass vampires.
10. Stegosaur doesn't need a hole in his head to breathe, like Brachiosaurus. Stegosaur just beats the water out of the pond, and then wanders into it. Because he's a badass.

History:

Stegosaur was my favorite, when we learned about dinosaurs in kindergarten.

One of my earliest introductions to the B/S that is the educational process was getting in trouble for how I did a color sheet of Stegosaur fighting a Tyrannosaur. I colored the Stegosaur the correct color. Stegosaur is blue. I colored the tyrannosaur green, with great blobs of red mixed in. This, I believed, portrayed damage the tyrannosaur would have taken in a fight with the mighty Stegosaur as well as I could. See, the color sheet was white, and I tried to make a viewer believe that Tyrannosaur had bones sticking through, a result of his ill-advised fight. But my talents weren't yet fully realized.

Anyway, back to the point. Tyrannosaurs are pussies. What with those tiny arms. Everybody knows that.

Everybody except my kindergarten teacher, who expressed dismay at my interpretation of the coloring scene.

She insisted that the two weren't even fighting.

Bullshit. Stegosaur would whip Tyrannosaur's ass. The tyrannosaur respects this fact, but sometimes Stegosaur has to bring the thunder anyway.

Also, when we went to hang the pictures, I insisted that mine be turned sideways, so that Stegosaur would be on top. I still believe that everybody would get what I was saying.

Yeah. Stegosaur whipped Tyrannosaur's ass, and then was standing (or, perhaps, lying down) upon Tyrannosaur's bloody corpse. Victorious.

My request for proper respect was denied.

My rebuttal to the denial led to my not getting to play outside at recess.

This is neither here nor there, but our play area in kindergarten was right next to the water/sewer filtration tanks at Riceville School. These big roiling tanks of toilet water right next to where five-year-olds are playing. How do you like that?

Anyway. Now, some 23 years later, I have some ninny scientist splaying out his guesswork in a white coat, telling me some crap like Stegosaur's plates were for looks. No better, perhaps, than protective coloration.

Yeah. I'd like some pansy scientist to say such a thing to stegosaur's face.

Between you, me and this computer monitor? Saying something like that about a badass like Stegosaur? And waiting to do that until Stegosaur's been dead a quite a few million years? That's a small, petty man who throws that kind of thing out there. He's probably still getting beaten up by sixth graders for lunch money.

But we know, don't we?

Just wanted to throw that at you.

(Story on Fark, which I love like the circus.)

My current position on the Cubs

My current position on the Cubs

Alright. I've had enough of this Dusty Baker bullshit. I've been slow to come to this conclusion, but seeing Big Z wander out of Saturday's game needing an MRI on an elbow was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Fire him. Send him and his toddler packing.

The last couple of years, we've coming into the season with what should have been the most impressive and dominating pitching arsenal that baseball's seen for years. Used and guided correctly and responsibly, the names Prior, Wood and Zambrano could have combined with the Mad Dog (who we'll address in a second) for 70 wins. 7-0.

The problem is twofold, as I see it.

We have that talent, right? That raw power. A smart manager would look at these youngsters and say "with the right guidance, these guys will be great." But Dusty's wielded them like a kid who's found his Dad's gun. He's sat on the bench chewing on a toothpick, calling himself a player's manager until he's blue in the face, all the while running his three hosses into the ground. Because talent is apparently all you need to win. Because he wants a gamer out there.

This warrior mentality? It's outdated and its bullshit. I don't care how we used to do things. I want pitchers who win. That means we have pitchers who are sound mechanically, who have a pitching coach they can communicate with, who can in return give them guidance on what it means to be a pitcher on the Major League Level.

I haven't seen that from Dusty, and and I haven't seen it from the coaching staff.

What I've seen is a bunch of raw talent pushed out there every fifth day, the manager mumbling around his toothpick "yer muh boy," secure in his belief that all you need to pitch on this level is talent.

Here's the thing. I know that we've been understaffed in the bullpen, and that we've needed maximum production from the starters. I understand that a Carlos Zambrano after 115 pitches is preferable to a fresh Will Ohman or a Michael Wuertz. What I'm talking about is having the right person on the staff guiding the pitching staff, leading and teaching these young guys, teaching them how to pitch on this level. Getting them conditioned for the long haul, but also teaching them little things like the psychology of standing on that mound, or the fact that the umpire is not out there to take food out of your family's mouth, or (this is a favorite) the fact that you don't have to throw the ball as hard as you can every time.

Let's play Jeopardy! for a second.

The answer is Greg Maddux.

The question: Who would I rather see trotting out there to the mound than Larry Rothschild to talk to these guys during a game?

Can we have a player/pitching coach position?

You know, Mad Dog's getting older, and he doesn't have the skills that he may have had three years ago. But I'll bet my left nut and my 83 Donruss Ryne Sandberg card that you'll not find a guy who's still managed to maximize the returns on his talent, who knows how to work the mound and a game like Greg Maddux.

He doesn't have the ability that a Prior or a Zambrano or even a Mrs. Wood. Yet somehow, he managed to wander out there and win 16 games last year, and he kept the Cubs in quite a few more than that.

How does that work, Dusty? He doesn't go out there with a cannon, yet he manages to win and not get hurt. How the hell does that work?

We've had the talent on that pitching staff. For a couple and three years, even.

Injuries happen, yeah.

But when looking at the injuries to Messrs. Prior, Zambrano and Wood, I see guys whose injuries are related to both stress and mechanics.

These are hard throwers. That puts stress, yeah. For the first part, if we can drill the Leo Mazzone message into these guys' heads that you don't have to throw as hard as you can, I think we're three quarters of the way there.

But if we have a watchful eye on that staff, who can spot and correct any delivery issues before they become a real issue.

And by real issue, I mean things like M.R.I.s, missed starts and several week stints on the disabled list.

Like I said, I realize that injuries happen.

But the similar injuries shouldn't come up on the same pitching staff.

There's one more thing I want in a pitching coach. I want a guy who will kick their asses if his pitching staff doesn't do what he says. I want a guy who's gonna keep a couple of egos in check. I want a guy who's gonna knock Jesus Christ down a peg. I want somebody to get in Zambrano's face to remind him that tantrums against umpires aren't part of a grownup's game. I want somebody to get Kerry Wood to step up, and stop riding that 7-year-old 20 strikeout game, and take control of what could be a Hall of Fame career.

So. My perfect pitching coach seems to be a combination of Mad Dog and R. Lee Ermey.

Let me change the subject for a minute.

The problem is also related to the amount of support these guys get from the offense.

I have never seen an offense that is more unwilling to adjust, more bullheaded in its belief that it is doing the right and correct thing than this Chicago Cubs offense under Dusty's watch.

It's the same problems over and over. We are told that aggression is the key, but every time I turn around, we see the opposing starter working into the seventh and eighth innings because we aren't working the count and making the opposing pitcher work for his paycheck.

It's the belief that certain players belong in certain roles, yet they aren't guided in how to perform there, and they aren't moved out when they don't perform there. We learn by making mistakes? Well, we've had two and a half years to learn from them.

We don't hit. We don't manufacture runs. We don't move runners along. Players aren't taken in hand when they make mistakes on the basepaths.

It's the same thing, over and over.

We don't score runs. The pitching staff has to work harder.

You know, if you're up by 5 in the eighth, it hurts a lot less when Will Ohman or Roberto Novoa give up a couple.

I've been rambling.

I've grown tired of the Dusty Baker Experience.

Let's all move on, please.

Samuel L. Jackson, as Frozone

Samuel L. Jackson, as Frozone

I referred to Samuel L. Jackson's performance as Frozone as a key factor in putting The Incredibles at the top of my list of favorite superhero movies. This argument, between Frozone's alter ego Lucius Best, and his wife, makes me laugh every time I hear it:

Lucius Best: Honey? Where's my super suit?

Honey Best: What?

Lucius Best: Where - is - my - super - suit?

Honey Best: I, uh, put it away.

Lucius Best: Where?

Honey Best: Why do you need to know?

[helicopter explodes outside]

Lucius Best: I need it!

[Lucius rummages through another room in his condo]

Honey Best: Uh-uh! Don't you think about running off doing no derrin'-do. We've been planning this dinner for two months!

Lucius Best: The public is in danger!

Honey Best: My evening's in danger!

Lucius Best: You tell me where my suit is, woman! We are talking about the greater good!

Honey Best: 'Greater good?' I am your wife! I'm the greatest good you are ever gonna get!

You Know You Want One

You Know You Want One

Have you bought a T-Shirt yet?



Judging by my sales figures, you haven't. Unless your name is Gooseneck, or Jerri, or somebody who will remain nameless out in California (throw a shout out, if you're reading).

I know what you're thinking.

"Tommy, I don't want to be like all those other goofuses who are wearing the One With Nature T-Shirt."

Well, let's do the math.

I'll just talk America for a second. What do we have here in this country? 300 million people? So far, a mere three Americans (or should we count Iowans?) have bought the shirt.

So, say you're the fourth.

300 mil divided by 4 is 75 million.

You'd still be one in 75 million.

The chances are virtually nil that you'll meet up with somebody wearing the One With Nature shirt. That is, unless you all happen to attend the first annual BSTommy Convention and Yard Sale, to be held in the Fall of 2008.

So. Buy a shirt. You know you want one. Contribute to the Tommy Needs Food Fund.

My Cafe Press store.

Now with several new products.

I say again, that it is time for a couple of you to put your money where your mouth is.

The One With Nature T-Shirt.....

List: Things I do that Piss Me Off

List: Things I do that piss me off

This is, by no means, exhaustive or complete.

1. Hide the remote control.

Dude! Put the frigging thing back on the table where it goes. Why is it in the bathroom? What good is a remote control if it's sitting next to the TV? I don't even want to talk about the time in college when, for whatever reason, I put the remote in my coat pocket, and then didn't wear the coat for weeks.

2. Don't put away my laundry

Is it any wonder you look like a hobo? Yeah, you wash the clothes, but is it so much trouble to fold the shit? Seriously. You wash it, you dry it. Leaving it on the laundry table or in a basket leaves me looking rumpled and crumpled.

Also? Sometimes, I forget which basket is clean and which is dirty. So I have to do the "Does it smell clean?" test more often than a 28-year-old should.

So, hanging stuff up or folding it and putting in drawers is something of a problem.
Which is, frankly, ridiculous. Folding laundry is only slightly harder than breathing or going to the bathroom, both of which you've been doing passably for years.

So fold your friggin' laundry.

3. Buy books when I don't read the ones I have.

Working at Goodwill for the time I did, I picked up so many books. But they were a dollar! At that price, I don't know how I couldn't afford to buy them.

Even so, even though I have entire shelves of books I haven't read, I still find books to buy.

I especially hated it when I moved. Because books are ever friggin' heavy.

But I still buy books, even though I have no idea when I'll get around to reading them.

4. Don't listen when people tell me their names.

Jeez! It's like, the most important part of a conversation with a person you've never met! But nine times out of ten, I'll meet somebody, and two lines into the conversation, forget completely the name they've just told me. I realize, with silent horror, that I have no idea what this person's name is.

Usually, I'll apologize and say I wasn't listening well enough right there in that conversation. Somehow, the person isn't as offended that I've forgotten their name early in a conversation as they are if I meet them again, and they realize that I can't remember their name.

5. Get a weird craving for Krystals.

A Krystal, for those not acquainted, is the southern cousin of the White Castle. Alike in most respects, they are tiny burgers that cost something like 45 or 50 cents apiece.

They're a little heavier on the mustard, and the bun is different, a bit heavier and sweeter.

But they are alike in the respect that the are mostly grease and sawdust. The sawdust gets into your stomach, and expands. The grease gets the intestinal tract all slicked up, and everything in your digestive system slides right out of your system. Here's the thing...I've heard White Castles called Sliders, but jeebus. White Castle never sent me to the crapper like Krystal does.

Still, I get the weird urge twice a year or so. I'll decide that I want Krystal.

Because apparently I like sitting on the toilet.

Another List: My Favorite Simpsons Episodes

Another List: My Favorite Simpsons Episodes

1. Homer in Space

This one jumped up here recently. Two things: Homer's call to NASA (How come I can't get no Tang 'round here?), his later call to The White House, and also his attempt to one-up Barney's sober singing by doing a limerick while somersaulting.

2. Bart gets an Elephant

This one makes me laugh pretty much every time I see it. From Homer telling Bart to push Marge down, to Homer being overcome by cleaning fluid fumes, and their mascots, to the Elephant Song, which reminds Jasper of Elephants. All kinds of good stuff.

3. Marge vs. the Monorail

I call the big one Bitey.

Leonard Nimoy's guest appearance is one of the series' best guest appearances.

4. Bart vs. Australia

For the whole Austria sign being used, but with the "al" penciled in.

Also, for the bit about the prime minister in the pool.

5. Treehouse of Horror II

I really get a kick out of the Bart-omnipotent-being/Twilight Zone parody.

But Mr. Burns, putting Homer's brain on his head and doing the Davy Crockett impression? That's genius.

List Day: My Favorite Superhero Movies

List Day: My Favorite Superhero Movies

1. The Incredibles

God bless Brad Bird. God bless him because he made the superhero movie that moviemakers should have been making for years. He respected the audience, and told the story without feeling like he had to fall over himself, and apologetically cowtow to us by giving us an hour and a half of exposition on how the superheroes discovered their powers and how they got to be how they are.

He just gave us the credit that we might be able to comprehend a little bit of make believe without it needing to be rationalized for us.

The animation lent itself to that, I guess. Maybe Joe America was a little more willing to accept flying and stretchy people if they're cartoons.

Plus, the whole argument between Samuel L. Jackson's Frozone and his wife for his superhero suit is comic gold.

2. Unbreakable

This one's wandered up onto my personal favorites list. I liked it when I first saw it, but it's grown on me quite a bit, even so. It's one of those I like more each time I see it.

It does pretty much the opposite of The Incredibles, in that it's just an origin story. Since it doesn't have any comic-based mythology it's adapted from, it's able to tell its story without having to do any particular thing to appease the comic fanboys.

Plus, it's got the benefit of a creepy Samuel L. Jackson performance. I like the whole bit where Mr. Glass is explaining the piece of comic art to the potential buyer at his studio, explaining the artistic rendering of the villain (enlarged head, bigger eyes), and you have Samuel, with his poofy villain's hair and his giant eyes telling all this. I just liked it.

Just a note: both the top movies have Samuel L. Jackson in key roles.

Coincidence?

Who can say?

Only Samuel knows.

3. X-Men 2

This was the movie, as a former X-Men fanboy, I was looking for. And with the second movie, it got past all that nasty origin, where we had to explain what mutants are, and who the X-Men are, and who Magneto is, and who Wolverine is, and who Rogue is, and who Robert Kelly is, and all that jazz. This one, like most superhero movie sequels, is able to jump right into the story.

Plus, it had Nightcrawler. He's one of my favorite X-Men.

My favorite bit? Rogue, Pyro, Iceman and Wolverine are cornered by the cops, ratted out by Bobby Drake's brother. Pyro attacks, and you can see in his eyes just how much he's enjoying the carnage he's causing.

4. The Specials.

Go see this movie, if you haven't. I like the humor. It's a team of C-list superheroes who, in spite of their abilities, are perhaps even more petty and small than a normal person might be. Thomas Haden Church and Paget Brewster are particularly good.

Not a superhero movie in the traditional sense. Still, a good one that doesn't get enough love, for my money.

5. Batman (1989)

I'm a Batman freak. Been reading Batman comics for right on 20 years now. So when Tim Burton's movie was coming out, I was stoked. It was really my first big fanboy moment. My friend Nigel and I spent most of the spring talking about what little bit we'd seen in commercial snippets, or on any of the entertainment TV shows. Leading up to the movie, neither of us liked Michael Keaton for Batman, and we weren't enthusiastic about a couple of the pieces we'd seen where Bruce Wayne were to say "Alfred, let's go shopping," or any of Robert Wuhl's readings as Allie Knox.

Still, we both had to admit that it looked cool. And, at 11 and 12, I wasn't yet on the whole kick on who makes the movies, but somehow I'd made the connection that the same guy who was making Batman had made Beetlejuice, which was a movie I'd enjoyed very, very much.

I saw Batman 5 times in the theater, over the course of the next three or four months. It ran in the Plaza Twin in Athens for weeks. And in a small town with 4 movie screens, with so many movies coming out, that's a long, long time to run a movie. So I wasn't the only one coming in multiple times.

It still holds up, mostly. The whole Victorian/Gothic Gotham City thing gives it an identity. I've heard people complain about that, but I kinda liked it.

6. Superman 2

I was going to stop at 5, but this one's got a goofy charm. I always enjoyed the interplay of the dual personalities Clark/Superman has to use. It's goofy, and it's not realistic. I mean, if I take off my glasses, I don't become a different person.

Or do I? All those neighborhood pets have been disappearing....

But that's neither here nor there.

The bit where Clark has to admit to himself that Lois has figured him out is one of the great moments in superhero moviedom. There are a couple of emotions there that I really appreciate. You see Clark frustrated, first, that he's been found out. Then, he admits it to himself, does a shoulder role, changes his posture, holds his head higher. In that moment, you can see that he's no longer Clark Kent. He's wearing Clark's clothes, he's in his shoes. But even without that Superman Suit, you can see that Clark became Superman.

And then there's one more emotion, and it plays out over the course of the scene, and really for the movie.

You can see Clark's relief. At the very least, for not having to keep that secret, at least from this person he cares about.

I always appreciated Christopher Reeve for that. For showing that Clark and Superman aren't the same person, but they have to be, sometimes. And you get to see how painful that is, sometimes, for the Man of Steel.

I also like General Zod and his Kryptonian compatriots.

What damns this movie, and what keeps it from being in my personal top 5 is the whole thing where Superman gets his powers taken away to be with Lois, and the implication is that he can never go back. He's making an unimaginable sacrifice.

And then, an hour later, when he's needed again, he gets his powers back. It's a little cheap.

I once argued at length with a co-worker who loved what I called the damning factor. He said it made the movie feel like the Silver Age books he'd read growing up, where these huge, monumental things would happen, but at the end of the book, the status quo is pretty much achieved. I can identify, because it's what I liked about shows like The Simpsons, back in the day. So that's cool with me.

Still, I like the movie.

Kneel before Zod.

Friday the 13th means I make lists

Friday the 13th means I make lists

Friday the 13th? I intend to ward off the bad luck by making a few lists.

Why?

1. My blog.
2. I make lists. When I'm bored. Don't know why.
3. I feel like making a few lists.
4. Can't think of much else to write. Not a lot interesting going on. I mean, even less though than usual.

Thursday

Thursday

Whadup?

A quick check of where I am this morning:

This morning's snack? Corn Nuts. Ranch flavored Corn Nuts.

I keep getting things in my eyes. Shampoo. Soap. Dust. Ranch flavoring from Corn Nuts.

I've had Pat Benatar's "We Belong" in my head for two days now. I may try to yank it from my skull Total Recall style before too much longer.

Soup

Soup

Hungry? Got more money than sense?

Over in London, you can get yourself a nice, steaming bowl of "Buddha Jumps Over the Fence," a tasty, painstakingly prepared shark's fin soup. That bowl, by the way, can be had for the low, low price of 205 dollars.

Called "Buddha Jumps Over the Wall", the shark's fin soup -- which must be ordered five days in advance -- is made with whole abalone, Japanese flower mushroom, sea cucumber, dried scallops, chicken, Hunan ham, pork and ginseng.

I will tell you that I misread that last line in the ingredient list. Did a double take when I thought I'd read "Human ham."

At least ham made of humans might explain the cost.

You know, at that price, they could almost be competitive with the food prices at your local movie theater.

Or the ballpark.

Yeah. I now expect to see bowls of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall next time I'm at the ballpark, right between the eight dollar beers and the 4 dollar hot dogs.

Warren Ellis had the link...

The Working Life

The Working Life

My work schedule's changed around a little bit here recently. It'll end up happily for me, with a bit more money and a bit more free time. It'll give me time to go back to school, and it'll give me time to do a bit more writing.

Which is good.

Mostly, it'll mean no more pulling my big ass out of bed at 4:45 in the morning.

Now you know. And knowing is half the battle.

Tuesday Morning Wrasslin' Thoughts

Tuesday Morning Wrasslin' Thoughts

Not much to say about last night's show. I watched it with half an eye. It wasn't much of a show, from what I saw.

I missed the first half-hour or so of Raw last night, and judging by what Coach said to Eric Bischoff later in the night, I probably missed the most interesting portion, or at least, what interested me most of all, an ad for the ECW Reunion PPV in June. I'm interested to see how the WWE promotes a PPV that doesn't have bearing on either brand or any storylines.

I will say that I was happy to hear that NWA-TNA has allowed the wrestlers they have under contract to appear at the reunion show. If you named the top 2 names in ECW's run, in terms of stories and personalities that shows ran around for much of the promotion's history, those two names would have to be Shane Douglas and Raven. So, it's cool to see those two get a release to perform.

And Jerry Lynn? He's another who should appear. Jerry Lynn's awesome. A personal favorite.

As for Raw itself?

In the space of a week, I've really turned on the whole Viscera thing. I don't want him taking up that kind of TV time. Not because I'm not entertained, but because I'm afraid it'll lead to Summer 1995 all over again, with Viscera rising to the top of the pack, and headlining a PPV or two. Vince has a minor mad-on for big fat guys in the ring. And Viscera's the only big fat guy on the Raw roster.

Hopefully it'll all end with Batista running down to save Lilian Garcia, here in the next couple of weeks. And He Who Wears the Trash Bag Cape can wander back on to Sunday Night Heat, where he belongs.

Also: Yeah, Shelton Benjamin's great. Everybody respects him and all that jazz. Put him a good feud, now.

Sunday

Sunday


:: how jedi are you? ::

I think I'd done that one before, and gotten a different answer.

I won't argue with getting a Samuel L. Jackson answer on Mother's Day.

Shaft or no Shaft, Sam is the baddest mother around.

Reminded of the quiz at Amkeli's World....

I'm trying to wake up

I'm trying to wake up

I'll answer one of these things, from Right Thinking Girl, seen at Sheila's:

1. If you were a writer, what kinds of books would you write?

Is that some kind of shot at my laziness? I'm serious. I'll fight you.

2. Do you expect to ever be famous in your lifetime? If yes, what do you expect to be famous for?

I expect to be harmlessly infamous. I expect that at some point in the future, a famous photo will be taken somewhere in the world. Think something like Jack Ruby shooting Lee Harvey Oswald, or perhaps that photo of the kiss between the girl and the guy returning from WW2. In this photo, I'll be in the background, but I'll be doing something mildly embarrassing. I'll be mid-bite on a hot dog, or I'll have just spilled something/had something spilled on my crotch, making it look like I pissed myself.

So it'll be a famous picture of the next president helping the old guy who's fallen, but everybody's eye for years will be unconsciously drawn to me, standing in the background, with a big giant pee stain on my pants.

3. Say something liberal.

I hates me some conservatives. They're bad for America.

4. Say something conservative.

I hates me some liberals. They're bad for America.

5. What did you dream about last night?

I don't remember any of last night's. Which is weird for me.

6. What have you read this week? Include everything: magazines, emails, blogs, books, etc.

I'm still reading on Bill Bryson's The Mother Tongue. I started Christopher Moore's Fluke.

I've read the local newspaper a couple of times, especially on Tuesday, which is the day the locals Sound Off in phoned-in snippets on the opinion page.

I got a collection of J. Michael Stracynski's Supreme Power comic, and I read that one yesterday morning. The new Detective Comics. The big Countdown to Crisis thing that DC did, where Max Lord kills the Blue Beetle (which was something of a letdown for this old Keith Giffen Justice League fan). More Comics: Joe Lansdale's Dead in the West and Warren Ellis's Ministry of Space

And one more thing that will need its own post to discuss.

7. Tell me about your worst date ever.

My worst date was made bad by me. I'll just say that it involved a screening of the movie Blues Brothers 2000, and the fact that when I get nervous, I get obnoxious. I was very nervous.

8. Name three of your bad habits and three of your good habits.

Bad:
I can't seem to get the dirty laundry into a hamper.
I don't eat as well as I should.
I dwell on regrets. (Sheila wrote that one, but it works for me...but I'm working on it...)

Good:
I'm polite
I keep the fingernails trimmed. It's the only grooming habit I obsess over.
I drink a lot of water.

9. Tell me something you're very proud of.

No prison for me. To this point.

10. Give me a piece of wisdom that I should pass on to Parker Grace (who is now twelve weeks old).

Don't take things personally. Anything.

See if somebody follows their own advice, if they're giving it to you.

Some people are just pricks. They're unhappy, and they can't stand that you are happy. They're too cowardly to live their own lives. They, consciously or unconsciously, want you to screw things up in your own life so they don't feel so bad about their failings. Fuck them.

Forty-Two

Forty-Two

Saw the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy tonight. What a great flick.

I was worried before last weekend. A lot of positive word came through. Got the night free tonight. I enjoyed this one immensely.

Safe Men may have brought me to the church of Sam Rockwell, and Welcome to Collinwood may have made me stay. But Hitchhiker's Guide converted me. The guy's got that thing, that one little indescribable thing, that just gets me laughing every time.

And Zooey Deschanel? Can't complain a bit. Not one bit.

Superman

Superman

Here's an interesting take on Superman, and why he does what he does, from Mark Waid, who's one of the (if not the) best Superman writers out there.

Teacher Dave had the link....

Corrections and Retractions

Corrections and Retractions

Everybody makes mistakes. I make glorious blunders. Here, I try and try to correct them:

1. James correctly pointed out that I was in error when I said Chris Benoit lost his match to Triple H Monday. Don't know what I was thinking. Perhaps I had a rant against Triple H all worked up and didn't want to get the truth tangled up with my hollering.

Benoit did win, making Triple H tap, with Batista keeping the Cerebral Assassin from grabbing the ropes.

Actually, I said what I said because I'd been drinking during Raw. Also in the morning. Truth be told, the past 3 years, if I've been awake, I've been drinking. So my memory isn't what it should be.

2. I mis-spoke. I do not have 20 gallons of buckminsterfullerine in my garage. That's housepaint. My bad.

3. I forgot to attribute all the proper credit to Diane, who "works" here, when I posted the chicken coupe joke. All jokes flow through Diane. All jokes told on the internet began with Diane, simply even if she's heard them before (it's obvious that if you tell a joke, you must have heard it from her).

You would do well to remember that.

I say the gods should bless Shyam, who is forced to make sure Diane's genius is successfully harnessed every day.

4. There is no state called West Kentucky. Again. Drinking. My bad. These states also do not exist: South Texas, Old Hampshire, Tomorrowland, Frontierland, Puerto Copula, Woody Paige or Ur.

Also, Old Mexico should actually just be called "Mexico," and it is actually a sovereign nation, with its own laws and customs. Had to learn that one the hard way.

5. Most of the multiplication tables do work. However, I stand by my statement that the tables lie once you get to eleventeen.

6. I spoke incorrectly most of my life when I said my middle name was Earl. It is actually Sinatra.

Today's Funny

Today's Funny

Q - Why does a chicken coupe have two doors?

A - Because if it had four, it would be a chicken sedan.

A special nightmare for you arachnophobes

A special nightmare for you arachnophobes

You know, I don't mind spiders, but this gave me the creeps.

Via Laurenn McCubbin

Tuesday Morning Wrasslin' Thoughts

Tuesday Morning Wrasslin' Thoughts

That Shelton Benjamin/Shawn Michaels match last night may go down as one of the year's best. I don't know if this match was better than the Jericho/Benoit match they had to open the Raw from Tokyo recently. But Japanese crowds aren't as vocal as American crowds; most American crowds aren't as vocal as the Boston crowd was last night. So Benjamin/Michaels had the crowd into the match, feeding the intensity.

I liked very much that the finish came suddenly. If there's anything I wish that wrestling would get away from, in general, is the Mortal Kombat finish. Every Match ends with a wrestler calling a finishing move nowadays, and it's been that way for a long time. Which is fine, to a point. It's all story telling. But it's something I liked about guys like Benoit, Angle, Jericho, even Michaels. They can tell a story without needing the exact same finish every time.

That said, it's nice to see a match like Benjamin/Michaels end all of a sudden (albeit, Michaels did use the crescent kick, but it wasn't the called finisher, where he stands in a corner and stomps like a horse for a minute before finally kicking somebody in the face).

I like the intensity of a match that can end at anytime. And given the attention we've been giving Shelton, I was convinced that the match could have ended either way. The WWE needs more of that.

I can't argue with Michaels going over. I've gained a lot of respect for him as a performer and a showman that I may not have had in years past.

I'm a Bret Hart mark, and I can hold a grudge.

But I've moved on.

Moving on.

A brief word on the tournament itself. I like tournaments. I think it's a way to set up stories. My problem with the three or so tournaments the WWE has held in the past few months (two on Smackdown, and this one on Raw, that began last night), is that there hasn't been much coming out of the tournament beyond the end result. It's an opportunity to start a couple of months worth of story between somebody like Jericho and, say, Kane, who don't have much to do with each other, but could move forward together under the right circumstances.

The WWE did a little of this, with a small Christian/Flair angle after Christian lost to Kane. So I won't gripe much.

(While I'm on the subject of Kane, his story-wife Lita made me happy to be a heterosexual male last night....)

I surprised myself by admitting that I can't be ill at Triple H moving forward in this tournament thing. I wish it hadn't been at the expense of Chris Benoit. But I've come around to the school that Triple H has been set up much the same way Ric Flair was in the NWA of the 80's. A heel who was champion more often than not. It makes sense for him to be at the top of the title race.

Like I said, I wish it weren't at the expense of Chris Benoit.

Chris Jericho got something of the shaft, too, I thought. I'm not going to bitch about it, though. It seems like I've read that he's getting close to the end of his contract. Maybe the powers that be reason (correctly) that it's not worth pushing a guy who's not necessarily a given to re-up with the company. Especially when there's not a real domestic, monetary alternative, at present.

Last couple of thoughts:

I desperately would like one of these indie guys they're pulling out the crowd for the Chris Masters Masterlock Challenge to shoot on the kid. Drop out of the nelson, slap a drop-toe-hold on the guy. Wrench a knee. Pull him into an armbar. Something. I really want Chris Masters off my teevee.

Also:

I was all for the minor push of Viscera, especially if he's being funny. However, it struck me that we had a very similar turn of events in 1994 and 1995, leading even to Viscera (or Mabel, if you will) winning King of the Ring and getting a main event at a couple of the summer of 1995 pay per views.

There's a place for Viscera. It's called a 4 minute match on the undercard.

Trust me. You do not want Viscera vs. Batista at the July PPV.

I don't even want it main eventing Raw in the time of the Smackdown and ECW Reunion PPVs.

Them's the thoughts.

Fourteen?!?!?

Fourteen?!?!!??

I didn't pay all that much attention to the whole Jennifer Wilbanks/Missing Bride story this past weekend. I generally stay about 20 minutes behind the times. Usually on purpose.

But there was something that caught in my ear, and had me thinking about it a good part of the weekend.

The crazy woman's wedding, right? 14 Groomsmen and Bridesmaids?

What the crap?

Steven and I talked about this a little, last fall, when he was part of a wedding party that was four or five strong on each side. I'd have a hard time filling that bill of four or five other guys to be a groomsman.

But FourFrickingTeen?

Jeebus.

At a loss to come up with friends and family to stick in those 14 slots, here are the 14 professional wrestlers (past, and present) that I would like to have as my groomsmen:

1. Bret "the Hitman" Hart
2. Ric Flair
3. Rowdy Roddy Piper
4. Chris Benoit
5. Chris Jericho
6. Arn Anderson
7. Tully Blanchard
8. "the Fallen Angel" Chris Daniels
9. The Big Show
10. Dirty Dutch Mantell
11. The Great Muta (Keiji Mutoh)
12. Taz
13. Sting
14. Ricky "the Dragon" Steamboat

And I would have them come to the altar in full ring attire. Time permitting, I'd like ring entrance music. I think it would be entertaining, and these 14 would be able to protect me, should any fake fighting break out.

Granted, it's a different social setting, and from everything I see, it looks like the wedding was going to be more of a social event than anything.

Me? I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I'm getting married just like my folks. In jeans and t-shirts, by a justice of the peace in the back of a five and dime, all at the urging of a loaded shotgun....

An Anger Management Problem

An Anger Management Problem

I was drawn to this headline:

Man Punches Mom to Death for Not Moving

Investigators said the man approached his mother, who was living with him, at about noon on Friday and said, "Don't just sleep. You've got to move yourself." When she refused, he allegedly punched her several dozen times, then kicked her in the chest and other parts of her body, killing her.

I've added the emphasis there. He punched her several dozen times?!???!??!!

Wow. It just got to be a battle of wills, didn't it?

Me? Somewhere between the third and fourth dozen punches, I'm just gonna give up and let her sleep.

Tonight's Simpsons

Tonight's Simpsons

Dude. Time will tell. But my initial reaction is that tonight's first episode of The Simpsons was probably the best in years.

I do not exaggerate. Years. Many seasons.

That was wonderful.

I laughed:

--Homer's Rube Goldberg/Hot Wheels water evacuation device.

--Homer's thought balloon Beer + Homer equation

--Ray Coming Down with a Case of the Shingles

--The Whole hospital sequence was great.

--Homer's initial outrage, while strapped and restrained, is his lack of shoes.

--Dr. Hibbert doling out the discipline

--the Robin Hood/historical inaccuracy bit.

--"I'm a Raythiest" (Another stupid joke, but I was in a good mood by then)

--The No-Sue/Parking Validation bit. Check and mate.

--And the whole Homer/Ray conversation about Monday, CBS, 9 o'clock bit. That was comic gold.

My Name is Tommy, and I'm Somewhat Normal

My Name is Tommy, and I'm Somewhat Normal

You Are 55% Normal (Somewhat Normal)

While some of your behavior is quite normal... Other things you do are downright strange You've got a little of your freak going on But you mostly keep your weirdness to yourself

How Normal Are You?

Heh. Shows how much they know. Didn't ask one question about scab collections. Nor is there any reference to the strange mystery of how car parts, lawn decorations and pets keep disappearing from my neighbors' homes, where ever I live.

And don't get me started about how I start crying anytime I hear "The Downeaster Alexa" by Billy Joel. And not just weeping, either. Huge, rib-cracking sobs.

Congratulations

Congratulations

My friends Jill and Chris had a baby boy early, early this morning. I just wanted to tell them congratulations, and that we're all fairly sure that, genepool notwithstanding, it'll probably grow eyebrows eventually.