These guys are New York City’s answer to Kids in the Hall:
There’s more at YouTube, of course.
D.
Why leave adolescence behind when the humor is so awesome?
(From Cracked.com. And on a different note, some people really take their American Idol seriously.)
D.
We need one of these.
And this is for you chemists and physicists.
And for Shaina and my other lantslaite, JewTube.
D.
From Jewz N The Hood.
Best exchange? When the Hasids say,
“What are they, gentiles?”
“No. RECONSTRUCTIONISTS!”
Read about reconstructionism here.
D.
Michelle Duggar ought to be popping out #18 any day now. High time we revisited this old favorite (old favorite of mine, anyway!) From May 9,
Michelle Duggar is pregnant with number 18, which means it’s time for me to unleash more Duggary goodness. If you read that article, you’ll note that Michelle decided to break the news to her kids on the Today Show.
Guess she could have been more tactless. Guess she could have announced on Maury Povich.
Media junkies. Since the Duggars wanna be the rock stars of extreme fecundity, I thought I would give them a few glamour poses . . . a chance, perhaps, to catch Hollywood’s eye.
See you below the cut.
I was feeling stir crazy yesterday and wanted to see ocean. Jake must have been bored with his usual computer games, so he took a rare break from the monitor (hey! I almost called it a CRT!) to come with me.
It’s a quick drive from here to the coat — 20 minutes, perhaps? And pretty, although when you’re used to a more northern coastline, this particular brand of “pretty” feels rather thin. Still, I had high hopes.
We were greeted by the bellow of bull sea lions before we even saw water. They had flocked to the shoreline by the dozens, and two huge bad boys duked it out over a young female with a very attractive set of flippers. She wore a bit of seaweed on her head like a tiara, and you know those fancy reusable shopping bags they sell for a couple bucks at Trader Joes? She must have found one in the surf, because she carried it on her right flipper just like the latest Louis Vuitton handbag, and she used it to slap one of the bulls upside the head if he showed any signs of cowardice.
Sea snakes of all colors had swarmed the tide pools. There were lime greens and emeralds, magenta with creamy stripes, teals and mauves and puces, and one lonely spumoni. Young boys clothed only in Speedos dove into the pools for nickles and dimes thrown by jeering tourists while street vendors loudly hawked sno-cones and churros. A good time was had by all.
We drove up the coast, looking for something less commercial, and found a colony of sea otters. Here, too, dozens of day-trippers had gathered, and there were vendors selling dripping wet muslin bags. We parked and got out to take a closer look. Fishmongers loaded the muslin bags with live mussels and oysters, and folks were tossing these to the otters. Seemed like a fun idea — how often do you get to feed sea otters? But it wasn’t like that at all. The otters had learned to macrame kelp into satchels and hanging baskets. We watched in amazement as a Marinite in black Vuarnets heaved a muslin bag out to sea; one otter made off with the loot while another swam to shore, tugging a kelp afghan behind him.
Yeah, Bodega Bay sucked ass. We stopped off at a gift shop, bought some salt water taffy, and came home.
Sometimes the fantasy is better than the reality.
D.
September 19 . . . it be more than just the prelude to yer humble narrator’s impending birthday . . . it be TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY!
But this pirate’s flying to Chicago today (on the back of a roc — ain’t that how real pirates fly?) so ye’ll be gettin’ me reruns from OMFG FOUR YEARS AGO. Have I really been blogging that long?
Follow below the fold, maties. Back when I had me some creative spark . . .
Yup, that’s my name, don’t wear it out. Or at least that’s what my name would be if Sarah Palin were my mom.
Sarah Palin has picked out an All-American set of names for her children. There’s Track, Trig, Bristol, Willow, and Piper.
Ever wonder, What would your name would be if Sarah Palin was your mother? Well now you can find out!
You can discover your Palin-name, too, at the Sarah Palin Baby Name Generator. Karen is Khaki Salmon Palin, and Jake is Timber Challenger Palin.
Guess you know what I’m going to be doing the rest of this evening!
Hat tip to Daily Kos.
D.
It’s all in the delivery.
Here’s my proof to Jake. Earlier, I took a break from my Word Twist duel with Lyvvie to put my forehead down on my keyboard’s wrist-rest. Jake said — well, you’ll see.
Tonight’s exchange, transcribed, lacks humor:
Jake: You look tired.
Me: You think so?
Jake: Yes. I can tell.
. . . but trust me, he was funny. Funny as his old man. It’s all in the delivery.
In Sophomore English, we broke up into groups and each group took on a different Shakespeare play. My group had Hamlet. At the end of four weeks (or something like that), each group chose a spokesperson to explain their chosen play to the rest of the class. That’s how I was placed in the enviable position of summarizing the Dopey Dane to a roomful of 10th graders.
By the time Ophelia killed herself, everyone was laughing.
It’s all in the delivery.
D.
If this Palin runs with McCain, I might even vote Republican.
The wife and I consider this one of the best comic scenes ever. It has it all, the writing, the acting, but above all else the timing. We find it vewwy . . . wisible. And it never stops being wisible, no matter how many times we watch it.
The move and the new job has killed my drive to write. Used to be that if I wasn’t writing, I was at least thinking about writing. I would be thinking about a particular story or looking for new stories. But not now. The muse is in stasis.
Meanwhile, I’ve taken on more critting assignments than I can probably handle . . . but I really really want to read Summer‘s new book (which isn’t on that page — whuddup widdat?) And Paul Meloy’s collection, Islington Crocodiles, is finally out, and Meloy is a stupendous writer . . . and Jackie’s gonna send the Furies after me if I don’t review her new book . . .
Oy.
D.