• Larry grew a beard, then shaved it into the worst, most redneck facial hair ever: the Franz-Josef. He said next Christmas he’s totally going Hulihee — or will it be Chin Curtain? I enjoy the sheen the artist included on all the beards as well. (more…)
This was my view from the sideview mirror on the way to Memphis on Christmas Day:
Her gums were flapping in the wind like panties on a clothesline.
Sunday’s New York Times Magazine featured biographies of lesser-known people who died in 2005. I didn’t read all of them, but the ones I did read were amazing. My favorite was this one about Joseph S. Frelinghuysen:
What felt perverse was how beautiful the setting was. Frelinghuysen would later describe in his memoir the stunning beech and oak forests of those valleys in the region called Abruzzi — the flaming colors of autumn and the toylike villages stacked into the hills.
I’m going to have a great Christmas holiday. You know why? ‘Cause gorjus gave me this last night.
And The Elements of Style Illustrated! And a Morrissey DVD!
I gave him coal. Bacon-wrapped coal.
So basically, imagine this: it’s Christmas eve, and Larry, Lulu, Pete, and I are snuggled up on the couch watching and rewinding, over and over, all twelve chapters of the R. Kelly goodness. So far the only part I have memorized is this:
oh my god a rubber (rubber) (rubber) (rubber)
I have a long way to go if I’m going to have my performance piece ready for New Year’s.
Mrs. Floon used to housesit for a very strange professor and her much-older-than-her husband. (She was 50; he was 85 or so — and the rest of the department referred to him as “The Cadaver.”) Besides the gap in their ages, there was apparently a large gap in their brains as well, for they were hoarders.
And one day we decided to count things. (more…)
Tomorrow is J. Bubba Cots‘s birthday, and what better way to celebrate this fact than to tell you all about his whim-wham? (more…)
I’ll be out of the office Thursday bossing people much older and wiser than me around, so instead of a cryptic (disappearing) post about a cowboy song, here is a picture of Pete in his new favorite spot. (more…)
So picture this: it’s Christmas morning 1975, and you’re wearing the dress and pinafore that your mother made for you to match your Raggedy Ann doll, and while it appears you have a sassy pixie cut, you really just haven’t grown much hair yet. (more…)
So, moments after I wrote last night’s post I started watching America’s Next Top Model and didn’t realize until then that it was the season finale! Way to go, advertising team. (more…)
I just have to report a very awesome thing.
Someone called me today and asked for Jack the Ripper’s address and phone number.
Lady: He’s a real person, you know.
Me: Oh really?
Our internet connection was down at the moment so I sadly directed her elsewhere. I didn’t ask a bunch of questions since I had no means of finding the answer — um, assuming there was an answer to find and all. She did say that if she can’t find it herself, that she’ll call back in a few weeks. I can’t wait! If I were a teenage boy in the early nineties, I’d say, Score!
I was looking for information on some dude (this is, in essence, what I do for a living) and I came across the birth, marriage, and divorce records for some other dude who has the same name as the first dude. And dude was busy! Pay close attention to the dates here. (more…)