I spent Halloween this year as I have many others: sugar-high and wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling until 4 AM, and vowing to rid the world of the evil geniuses behind Banana Laffy Taffy. That stuff seriously needs to stop existing. The first nation to weaponize Banana Laffy Taffy will have its boot on the throat of
Over on reddit, someone asked users to recount their "best one-liner moments". This is easily mine: I was in a high school humanities course, and the philosophy instructor was talking about the "essence" of things. For example, he said that a clock which stopped telling time could no longer be considered a clock, because the telling of time is the
A friend loaned me his copy of MadWorld for the Wii. Fun game, but ridiculously, comically, waaay-over-the-toply violent. If Congress ever sees this game they will outlaw pixels. It's so bad that I've been hiding it from my wife like porn, playing it only when she's elsewhere in the house. Which has led to some awkward moments. I frantically fumble
I'm not sure who should be more embarrassed in this scenario: the auto mechanic for leaving the car stereo set to "Warm 106.9" when returning my Corolla, or me for listening to the station on the drive home and, upon hearing "Jessie's Girl" classified as a "Soft Favorite", exclaiming "that's fucking BULLSHIT!!"
I just went for a bracing winter bicycle ride and am now hella braced. One interesting thing about rides this late in the year is that you find yourself simultaneously sweating profusely and chilled to the bone, a condition that otherwise only occurs if you (a) have contracted hypothermia or (b) are reading a Stephen King novel while fireside. It
I got a professional haircut today. This was my first since ... oh, dunno. Like May of 2003, I reckon? (Yay blog) When I told the stylist on the phone that I hadn't been to a barber in six years, she gasped in alarm. "I don't have six years of hair," I added. Even so, she continued to sound flummoxed.
I glanced up from my laptop to find my five-year-old son standing nearby, gripping a bottle of Elmer's glue. He had removed the cap and was holding the container upside down, watching, fascinated, as the viscous white substance drooled into a ever-growing pool on the kitchen floor. "What are you doing?!" I barked. "Put that down!" He jumped, startled, and
Allan, a friend of mine in college, was in a neverending battle with the folks who lived in the dorm room adjacent to his. I never knew the specific dispute, but it was probably noise-related--his room and theirs shared a wall through which sound passed unimpeded. One evening I stopped by Allan's place as I headed off-campus. He and his