You damned, dirty ape.
If you ever have a sense that someone in your life might be making tickmarks in a notebook concerning your alleged misbehavior, remember, you might be right.
This fellow seems to be a bit confused about the traditional notion of “chasing a little tail.”
Not feeling fresh enough? Maybe you ought to shove a lit candle up your butt.
Ever feel the need to bathe in Jello? Yeah, me, too.
The Unemployed Philosophers Guild offers a number of compelling products, including Dorothy Parker martini glasses and a pillow printed with the Last Supper that plays “Hey Jude.”
With the election and coronation of Bush II, ‘Our Long National Nightmare Of Peace And Prosperity Is Finally Over’. And thank God — or at least the Supreme Court — for that.
I got yer pope, baby. Yeah, you know.
No, I’m not talking about me.
The Austin Chronicle’s Harvy Pekar has cut loose on Ken Burns’ Jazz documentary. While I am enjoying the film for the most part, Pekar makes some valid points that are worth discussing (including the by-now-oft-noted point that Burns essentially stops in 1960; the last 40 years are crammed into the final episode). Long, but worth a look.
Ol’ Tom points out that 1962’s most famous bikini is up for auction. When Ms Andress emerged from the sea in said item, Kennedy was president and “shaken, not stirred” wasn’t a cliche.
Someday, when one of your children asks this important yet awkward historical question, you can just send them here.
International playboy and raconteur Chris Mohney, the driving force behind that largely (okay, completely) forgotten online zines WordGun and Xora (neither of which even exist as dead sites anymore), has made himself a short movie, and he’s a-hawkin’ it on the Internet.
Check out Piper, starring Joey Norwood and Karsten Propper.
I’m not sure there’s anything I can say that can prepare you for these people.
The good folks at the Modern Humorist have had their way with another of our childhood icons, teen detective Enyclopedia Brown (God love ’em). I encourage you to take a look at Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Supreme Court Showdown.
Now, really, how early is too early?
The good people at The Spark have provided the Death Test. Accordingly, I expect to shuffle off this mortal coil on February 11, 2048, just shy of my 78th birthday. I’m reasonably confortable with this; it’s the 9% chance that the cause of death will be “electrolysis” that bothers me, not to mention the 5% chance of “wild animal mauling.”
In keeping with the theory that the most amusing things about the U.K. are the bits they got wrong (for example, ), I provide this glimpse via the Arizona Republic of the famed London Guardian’s Corrections and Amplifications section.
Or, at least, don’t use my microwave.
There are times when I wonder about my decorating skills — as opposed, of course, to not giving a damn about my decorating skills, which is most of the rest of the time. Using this site as a reference, however, allows me a certain degree of confidence.
In the event you find yourself becoming amorous with a Victorian, the standard moans and wails may not be appropriate. Fortunately, someone has addressed this pressing issue.