Journey's 'Separate Ways' - the literal video

From dascottjr, the Youtube master of literal music videos, here's Journey at their best.

"count my close-ups, here's #2 . . . 3 . . .4 . . turn head left, watch the chords in my neck protrude, dude"

What's Up?

What's up with all the military jets coming out of Mitchell today? They keep buzzing overhead, even with the current rain showers. - Me

Me and Jonah heard them when we were at the park w/ Smiley.  - Lisa

Smiley runs afoul of the law

Ok, when we took my nephew for his haircut there was a 45 minute wait list, and so we got back in the van and went shopping for a dehumidifier. Smiley was buckled into his booster seat in the 3rd row.

A few miles down the highway I looked into the rear view mirror and saw a flash of orange - his shirt color - streak past.

"What the hell? Smiley! You get back in your seat NOW!," I said. While not oblivious to the wrath he was going to incur, he was intent on finding whatever it was he'd lost in the van - probably a small bouncing ball he got out of a vending machine earlier.

"Smiley! NOW!" I said. Screw it. I hit the turn signal and headed for the nearest exit, with the little guy still tearing apart the second row of the van. As we were stopped at a red light on the off ramp I looked up into the mirror.

I guess that piece of shiny glass had it in for me. There was a sheriff's deputy right behind us. A moment later she hit the siren and pulled us over.

The deputy strolled over, asked for my license, and went over the obvious: she'd seen the boy bouncing around the car on the off ramp. In our increasingly intrusive society, the mere sight of anyone without a seat belt on is legal justification to pull you over, even without antother violation.

[And let's be honest - it's also a way for cops to pull you over on a whim, if they "think" they saw you without a belt.]

I explained that he *had* been buckled in when we got on the freeway, but that he'd taken it upon himself to unbuckle. Thinking it might do some good at home if the boy got a good scare in him, I told him he'd gotten us into trouble with the police.

"He didn't do anything wrong," said the Deputy. "You did. You're the adult, it's your responsibiltiy to make sure he remains in his seat."

Yeah. Sure. I'll get right on that, as I'm going down the expressway in rush hour traffic.

The price of the ticket? No points, but $206.

At that, I balked. Kindly, politely, calmly, but I balked. My story wasn't even a story, it was legit. After all, hadn't I drawn the deputy's attention by actively trying to get him back in his seat?

Wadaya know, the deputy seemed to debate this point, and asked to examine our car seats. Thank heavens I'd already dumped the bodies and had nothing to hide, so I said sure. Four car seats/boosters, neat and tidy. One point for me. She asked Smiley how old he was and he answered "four" but that was the last understanable statement out of his mouth. I'm no fan of his speech problems but the garbled answers seemed to lend credence to my tale of chaos.

The deputy went back to her jeep and we waited some more. When she returned there was a ticket, but not for $206. Instead of citing me for Smiley, she wrote me up as the offender. I was wearing my belt, but I didn't complain. A driver gets only a no point, $10 ticket. They much prefer if you endanger yourself instead of others.

"I've got two kids of my own, and the youngest makes as much trouble as yours," she said. "So I'm going to give you a break this time."

Thank you Deputy. I mean that. $200 might as well be $2000 right now.

Then she asked to speak to Smiley again, and laid into him with a lecture on listening and staying buckled. He seemed strangely unimpressed, almost blase, and I'm not sure how much sunk in.

Not that his troubles ended when we pulled back onto the road, no sirree. Mom and I had something to say about it, that's for sure.

* * * * *

Neat bit of trivia: We hadn't been to Sport Clips since last September, when I took the same two boys for a back-to-school trim. While Smiley and I waited today a very hot young receptionist came over to us. "Oh, he's sooo cute. I remember him. He has the speech problem right?"

Ten months go by, and the girl remembers him. That echoes tales we've all heard about the Little Man. Just the other day one of his teachers bumped into Lisa at a store. She said that a staff member from his summer school location had made a special point to tell her all about this adorable little boy she taught for the summer - Smiley.

Play on playa, play on.

The Haircut

You may remember seeing this picture of my nephew/Godson in the First Communion posts. Note the long flowing hair. I hate that look, but in the end I'm just the middle-aged Uncle, and so it stayed.

Until today. He's staying with us for a few nights and asked if I'd take him for a haircut. Since we owed him a birthday present, I agreed. Smiley and I accompanied him to Sport Clips and the fun began.

Here's the final result. As I said to him. "Good. At least now you're more Jonas Brothers and less Demi Lovato"

It's a great improvement, and I hope he agrees!

Meanderings of a Cluttered Mind

Well, just to complete my Jedi training in Dork, I called the phone number in the spoof ad on the cover of "Monster", the book I reviewed yesterday. Calling 212-364-1177 connects you to the switchboard for Cryptobiological Containment and Rescue Services, est. 1977. As you "continue to hold" you are offered prompts to order humane traps to snare all sorts of mythical creatures. My phone died out before I heard all the options.

Quite a hoot. Not as much fun as dialing 867-5309, but a nice way to pass 30 seconds while you pick your teeth with a matchbook cover.

Moving on . . .

* * * * *

A crazy few days here. On Saturday evening, as YaYa and I drove to church, we ran over a large screw and got a flat tire. Good luck finding someplace to patch it on the weekend, right? Wrong. Wal-Mart's tire center was not only open, but charged half as much as I'm used to paying.

RIP Sam Walton, ya done me right this weekend.

While we were waiting YaYa was a doll, which surprised the hell out of me. Hell, I was bored. But she acted like it was a grand adventure and even told me how nice it was to browse the store together. We picked up a freeze-dried ice cream sandwich from the camping section, and were surprised as heck to find it tasted pretty close to the real thing.

* * * * * *
I've got a splinter lodged deep under my pinkie nail. I trimmed the nail back as far as I dare and removed what I could, but some of it will just have to work its way out. Man oh man, there's a reason that's considered a real, honest-to-goodness torture technique.

* * * * *

I left today to walk an errand with YaYa and my niece, with no plans in the works for dinner. I came back 15 minutes later to find Lisa had scrambled together a steaming plate of sumptuous BBQ chicken breast, carrots, and salad. It was easily one of THE BEST pieces of chicken I've ever had, and I bow to her heavenly cooking skills.

Looks like Lisa rocks in *two* rooms of the house ;)

* * * * * * *

Smiley's bus was more than 45 minutes late dropping him off from school today, and I won't mince words: my head was a bleepin' mess of nerves and worst case scenarios. Ugh. All I can say is at least I don't let those fears control my whole world, as I still let him hop aboard each morning.

* * * *

Speaking of the school bus, it pulls out of here in six hours. Time to hit the sack. Later!

Monster by A. Lee. Martinez

Monster, the human hero of this novel, is a cryptobioligical containment specialist; in plain English, an exterminator that deals in magical and demonic beasts. He's got a Demon as a girlfriend, one who's not sure if being with him is better than returning to hell. His partner is a being from another dimension who manifests himself as a piece of origami. His skin changes color daily, the result of a nasty crypto bite, and with each change he temporarily obtains a different power.

In Monster's world magic exists, but has largely been forgotten by the world. Many people cannot see it or its effects at all, while others can view it but quickly forget. Judy belongs to the latter group, and her life to date has been one calamity after another.

Together, they must save the universe from an immortal virus seeking to overthrow reality.

This isn't high end literature, obviously, but it's quick, it's relatively original, and most importantly it's entertaining. I'm not sure they left adequate room for a sequel, but I'm hoping Martinez can pull one off, because these are characters I'd like to visit again.

Well done.

3.25 out of 4.

"One Small Step" - on the 40th anniversary of the Moon Landing, and why we need to go back

Given my fascination with history it seems incredible that in 1994 I lived through the 25th anniversary of the Moon landing without paying the slightest bit of attention. I had a good reason though, as the Slapinions family was a bit preoccupied: that day featured the birth of my oldest nephew/Godson.

Happy Birthday Jonah!

* * * *

Today marks the 40th anniversary of the first moon landing. To me the events of July 20, 1969 stand as an incredible accomplishment, and a lasting testament to what can be done when science and human desire merge to achieve the impossible.

I was born five years after Apollo 11. For me, walking on the moon was a subject found in history books, not science fiction. Unfortunately, it has remained soley a thing for the history books. In my lifetime - which again, began so shortly after that great day - a human being has never walked on the moon, nor even approached it in orbit.

I'm still left shaking my head as to where we went off track. (The space shuttle, remember, was and is more a PR tool than an advancement, as it can only stay in low Earth orbit.) How did we strain so hard, rise above so many obstacles, triumph so spectacularly - only to sulk off into the shadows and lie content with what amounts to retirement?

What went wrong?

Well, for starters we 'won'. We beat the Soviets to the Moon, we accomplished JFK's ambitious goal, we scored the propaganda coup. Few things fertilize apathy more than success, and I'd say this was a prime example.

There is also the fact that this was an American endevour, fueled by national pride and creating more in turn. Yet even as Apollo 11 was en route to fufill JFK's quest, his youngest brother would drive off a bridge and a young woman would drown, ending the Kennedy's quest for the crown and our confidence in their perfection. While Armstrong made his historic walk a newscaster named Cronkite would describe the scene. A year earlier Cronkite had stepped outside the bounds of journalistic neutrality to render a verdict on a war. Inspired by this suprising breach a new generation of journalists would publish the Pentagon Papers and, later, take down a sitting President.

I myself have never felt it, by I'd assume in the wake of those events it was a bit harder to root for the home team.

I can understand those factors. I don't necessarily agree with them, but I understand. What I have never been able to grasp, what I hope NEVER to understand, is the foolish notion that space exploration is a waste of resources best spent here.

Whether we venture into space or not, some things are writ in stone. There will always be some degree of poverty. There will always be sickness. There will always be a natural disaster, or a war, an epidemic or a cause celebre to advance.

That was the case when our species first left Africa to migrate across the globe. It was the case when Europeans first ventured across the Ocean. It was true when America expanded westward, when the Wright brothers abandoned their bike shop to soar in the air, and it will be true a thousand years from now when we first set foot on a world revolving around a distant star.

To grind progress to a halt, to silence the inate curiousity that has been the hallmark of our species is madness. It's cowardice and an inferiority complex masquerading as idealism and compassion. Frankly, it doesn't even make sense. The amount of money spent by NASA is a drop in the bucket to any number of foolish and short-sighted programs we sponsor every year - even before the days of the 'stimulus'.

And for the record: in the nearly forty years since we stopped visiting the Moon, have we cured any major illness of note? Have we stopped poverty, or hunger? Have we ended wars, settled our cultural differences, or even united behind a single, viable economic theory?

Spend money on NASA, or spend it on something else: either way I guarantee you the answer to the above questions will be the same in a half century.

We need to return our focus to the future, and that lies outside this globe. We need to return to the moon - and beyond.

10 years later - The Assasination of JFK, Jr.?

Today marks the 10th anniversary of JFK Jr.'s death. That just seems unbelievable, doesn't it? I was going to post this later in the year, but it obviously deserves to post today.


I think I told you before that I live in a very nice, very left of center neighborhood, one that likes to believe it is bohemian and cultured and West Coast. There are gay bars and bike paths and ratty little coffee houses/theaters. The menus here invariably feature at least one veggie burger and a gluten free alternative, and there is the worlds largest Rainbow flag display not 3/4th of a block from me.

I enjoy the atmosphere, as a matter of fact, although I believe it largely based in fiction. The area is still comprised mainly on blue collar types who like beer and brats and listen to 'TMJ in the morning. Nothing wrong with either group.

Anyhow, there is a fashionable little burger joint within walking distance. In a box on their counter they keep several DVD's, all of which can be taken home on the 'honor system', and you are encouraged to burn a copy and pass it on. These are 'Truther' DVD's, the ones where aliens or Bush or the CIA are said to have rigged the Towers to implode on 9/11, and a collection of other odd propaganda. On my latest visit I picked up a copy called "The Assassination of JFK, Jr."

Wow.

I can't find the strength to view the film again to snatch verbatim quotes, and I'll be up front about turning it off before it was over (per constant requests from Lisa and a guest). But let me give you the rundown, with absolutely no editorial changes in tone.

First, the Kennedy's were and are a noble and intellectual clan. JFK Sr.of course, wanted us out of Vietnam (then why put us there?) and so was slain . . . by Jewish bankers who were financing the military/industrial complex. They had George Herbert Walker Bush arrange the deed.

[Dangit, I promised editorial honesty. They weren't called "Jewish" bankers, they were "Israeli" - in this context, what I view as simply a transparent euphemism.]

Then Bobby was killed, and Ted was drugged to frame him for Chappaquiddick.

Cue up JFK, Jr. John, we are told, was not a no-good useless rich guy (their words, but reduced 90% in vitriol), but a deep and intellectual man who believed all of the above conspiracies and was slowly but surely gathering power to overthrow his enemies.

For this reason, George W. Bush left a campaign stop in Iowa and disappeared from the public scene for three days. In this time he arranged and orchestrated for someone on the plane (?) to close the fuel valve and intentionally plunge the plane into the icy waters of the Atlantic, killing themselves and John in the process.

In short, Dubya assassinated Jr. in the latest round of the fifty year old Kennedy-Bush shadow war (which, apparently the Bush's won hands down, if this guy was even half right).

Now I'm going to assume, Dear Reader, that you have some common sense and write this off as paranoia. But even so may I point out that there is no explanation, no good explanation, why a (then)current Presidential candidate would seek to assassinate a man who, by the admission of the film itself, would not be seeking the office for years. Nor would said candidate have to personally arrange the deal (not while ol' Rove is still around ;) or vanish from the public eye to do so. And the Kennedy's, if they had half the honor and power the film grants them, would never let the death quietly pass from attention.

I understand the Cult of Personality surrounding some politicians, then and most assuredly now. But much as I liked John Kennedy Jr. - and I sincerely did - to label him a closet intellectual silently gathering power while avoiding the attention of the demonic Bush clan . . . well, that's loony.

For much of his life, bless him, he *was* just your average rich man's son, stumbling through life worried about his looks, women, a lackluster career, and more women, and not in that order. Nothing wrong with that life if you can get it, and all the power to him for enjoying it. Maybe after twenty years of 'clean living' he'd have pushed forward into the Presidency, but we'll never know.

Here's what we do know: avoid the film.

Thursday Night Mutterings

If you didn't go out and buy a copy - and shame on you if you didn't - here's a link to my column in the Journal-Sentinel.

* * * * * * *


Bravo TV's The Fashion Show cut Reco just before the finale. What the heck was that? I had the feeling that's where they were heading when they took pains to highlight every flaw on the runway. Apparently his work is inferior to dark, gloomy, "fashion" based on "aborginal people wearing Western Clothing". Again, how the heck did James-Paul advance over Reco?????

Here's hoping he gets his own label and buries the yahoo's that were chosen over him (although I liked Anna's [admittingly disjointed] collection).


* * * * * * * * *

Some misc. local news.

First, the Patrick Cudahy fire appears to have been accidentally set by two brothers, one a Purple Heart recipient in Iraq, who fired off a military grade flare during a holiday BBQ. According to their Mom, they were "just being idiots". The flare landed on the plant's roof, setting off the $50 million fire and idling 1800 jobs.

Way to party responsibly guys.

* * * *

We got a letter today from Milwaukee Public Schools urging precautions, but not panic, in light of the continuing strength of the Swine Flu here. Just a few days ago the virus claimed its fourth victim here, a 13 year old girl.

Milwaukee has recorded 3,268 confirmed cases, 700 more than the entire state of California. That's a disturbing fact, one that has brought attention from The Harvard University School of Public Health, which hopes to isolate the cause of the outbreak here.

What's worse is that health officials are acknowledging that the number of cases will "ramp up" again in the fall.


* * * * *

I saw WI Senator Russ Feingold (D) question Supreme Court nominee Santomayor on the question of the 2nd amendment and the right to bear arms. Her response, which was replayed in full on a local newscast, went round and round in circles and told us nothing at all about her legal or personal opinions. I have no doubt she'll be confirmed and replace Souter in the left-wing of the Court, but how sad is this process? It's all just a sham, where the person who can keep their mouth shut the longest gets the prize in the end. Ugh.

* * * * * *

The economy is improving, is it? All is on the upswing? Huh. I've heard differently.

Harley Davidson just announced they're cutting 1000 jobs, at least half of which will come from Wisconsin.

Marine Outboard Motors has warned that they're thinking of yanking 2000 jobs from Fon du Lac.

The father of one of YaYa's classmates just lost his job, as did the mother of another.

People continue to apply at my current employer, many quite vocal about their need for a job, "any job".

Nationally, TIME says the expected bancruptcy of CIT, a large small-business lender that has been refused bailout assistance, threatens to restart the financial crisis.

Mostly anecdotal evidence or conjecture, certainly. But as much as I'm hoping for an economic rebound (and this family needs it just as much - MORE - than most) I don't see it yet, at least not here.

You know when I think things are well and truly on the way back to 'normal'? Think back over the last 15 years. What did Subway push, push, push in all their advertising? What did they stress in the restaurants themselves? What did they use to differentiate themselves from the pack?

Nutrition. Health-conscious food. They were the 'smart' choice. And it worked extremely well.



And yet what do you here from them for the last year? Five dollar footlongs, five dollar meal deals, price, price, price, even if what they're selling is a cheese covered mess that eschows all the principles they worked so hard to establish in the public mind.

They're desperate, and they know consumers in this economy value their pocketbooks over a heart attack twenty years down the road.

When that changes, and they go back to their nutrition based advertising, then, THEN this thing might well and truly be over and done.

Or my theory might be full of sh*t. :) We'll see.

FYI

I have a column in today's Journal-Sentinel. If you're in the state, please pick up a copy.

The Haunting in Connecticut and the divine Ms. Madsen

At the All-Star game party my buddy Tre asked me why I like horror movies. I gave him a coherent response, but the more I think about it, the more it simply comes down to this:

Most horror movies suck. I seem to be on a quest to find a really good, really scary movie not called The Exorcist. Once I find that, I think I'll be good for a while.

The Haunting in Connecticut certainly isn't the Holy Grail I'm searching for. It sucked. Royally. Beginning to end stink-a-rooni, softened by the fact that it was big budget and the folks involved really seemed to try. Try and fail, but try.

1.5 out of 4.

BUT . . . the movie did feature the lovely Ms. Virginia Madsen.

Oh, the thoughts the tween and teen Danny had about her . . . whoo. I'll spare you the puberty induced fantasies, but even now, Botox and all, isn't she just gorgeous?

One of my first sightings of Madsen was in Electric Dreams, a neat little '80's romantic comedy about a PC that gained sentience (if I remember, this milestone in evolution came about after soda was spilled on the keyboard). Of course the PC becomes jealous of its owner's new love interest (Madsen) and trouble ensues.

Loved the movie. Loved the Boy George soundtrack. I think I have the cassette of the music here somewhere, having special ordered it as a kid with my measly piggy bank money.







Oh, there was one scary bit about The Haunting . . . but it came from our own house. During one horror scene our screen door flew open and slammed against the side of the house, while the wind chimes I have on the inside of the wooden door began to ring.

Kind of spooky. But it still doesn't raise the movie's rating.

The column I wrote earlier this week will appear in tomorrow's (Thurs) Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel. If you're in the state, please pick up a copy.

The 2009 MLB All-Star Game Party

It's become a tradition for me to host an annual party to watch the MLB All-Star game. My firm "Males only" policy was challenged by one of Lisa's friends this time around, but common sense and testosterone won out in the end. The two oldest girls were fawned off on relatives, Ginger was fast asleep, and Lisa joined her friend to watch a movie.

[Thanks do go out, however, to my sister C for helping get the house in order, and to Lisa for cooking most of the food. Much love to you both.]

This years spread included sloppy joes, baked beans, pasta salad, a vegetable tray, assorted chips and dips, cookies, brownies, watermelon, and fresh blueberries.

Oh, and Schlitz.



My Dad attended with Smiley in tow, as he'd taken him to the park for most of the afternoon.





Socialist was there, flipping off the camera as usual.



My buddy Tre made his annual pilgrimage for the game (and brought the beer and salad). Also present was Bob, the father of one of LuLu's friends, and Jason, the significant other of our friend Jessica.



As usual not much attention was paid to the game, at least until the last few innings. The game flew by at a staggering 2 hours and 31 minutes and featured an RBI double by Home Run Derby champ (and Milwaukee Brewer) Prince Fielder, but in the end it was the same old same old. The American League pulled off another in a long line of wins, Mariano Rivera notched a record fourth save in the ASG, and home field advantage again rests with the Junior circuit.

In fact, while I feel the conversation was above par tonight, the most talked about aspect of the game wasn't the actions on the field. Instead it was the man-love for Obama that the Fox crew, led by Joe Buck, gratuitously displayed. For nine innings and change not only did they drop his name every other sentence, but they insisted on asking each player about him. "Nevermind your game winning sac fly sir. Wasn't it great to meet President Obama?"

In fact, Ryan Braun's first at-bat was largely unseen due to an Obama interview at the same time. Unforgiveable.

When a group comprised of Republicans, Democrats, and a Socialist join together to gag on your affection and crack jokes unprintable here, well, ya may have gone a little overboard Mr. Buck.

I'm just sayin'.

A great time, a great tradition, and a great night. I'm already looking forward to next year.

All-Star Game 09

Tonight's the All-Star game, which means the annual man only feast at my place. Dale, Jason - c'mon down if you can make it.

Just finished a column and sent it in. Now I'm going to bed. 'Nite

The Unborn

The Unborn is the story of Casey Beldon, a 19 year old woman who has horrifying, seemingly delusional visions about a young boy. As she seeks a medical explanation she learns she is a twin, and that her brother died in utero. His fetus had been possessed by a dybbuk, a malevolent wandering spirit of Jewish folklore who first took the guise of a boy killed in Auschwitz. The dybbuk has haunted Casey's family for generations, leading directly to the suicide of her own mother.


Now the dybbuk wishes to once again gain entry into our world. It looks upon Casey as the means to accomplish the task, and only a skeptical Rabbi stands in its way.

First the bad news: You know you're getting old when you nearly turn off the TV after realizing a horror movie is all about teenagers. Enough already. Could we please have a film where the ghost picks on someone old enough to legally drink?

Second, I'm all for women. I'm all for looking at women. I'm all for looking at half-naked women. And I'm all for looking at half naked women that look like this:


But in the first third of the movie Odette Yustman's body was displayed multiple times for no other reason than to show off her underwear clad butt. Great to look at, rather inconsequential to the plot.

So let's put it bluntly Hollywood: I'm a big boy. If I want to look at naked women, I'll happily rent a porn. I'd appreciate less ass and more story from a conventional film, if you don't mind.

Just my opinion.

Here's the good, and yes, it far outweighs the bad. The relationship between Casey and her boyfriend seems remarkably mature and sincere for their ages, much less for a horror film. The acting is pretty good, minus the over-the-top antics of Casey's friend, and the story is sound.

Best of all, it was a pretty creepy movie, especially for the last half hour. There were some genuinely frightening moments there at the end, and if the postscript wasn't my favorite, at least it wasn't a cheap "Gotcha!" moment like many of these films.

What can I say? I liked it.

2.7 out of 4

A glass plate just exploded in the microwave, scattering pieces across the kitchen and just narrowly missing Lisa. I guess it wasn't microwave safe after all.

The Unborn

Just got done watching The Unborn. Full review to follow, as you've grown to expect and detest, but as a sneak peek: it was worth the rental fee.

How Much is that Baby in the Window?

In our living room there is a large bay window looks out into the street. It is one of Ginger's favorite pastimes to climb atop the loveseat by that window and just watch the cars, people, and birds that pass by our house.




There's no danger to the lass, as there's nowhere for her to fall, but I always feel bad when I see her in the window. What do strangers think? Do they walk by and think "The poor girl must be so sad. OMG, where are the parents?"

I should point out she's usually clothed, and the diaper only ensemble was a fluke.





I LOVE this last shot.

May Crowning

Many Catholic, and some Orthodox and Anglican churches, celebrate the ritual of May Crowning. Around May Day ( sometimes Mother's Day), it is traditional for a statue or icon of Mary to be decorated with a crown of leaves to signify her position as Queen of Heaven and Mother of God.

This year YaYa's second grade class, fresh from First Communion ceremonies over the previous month, was given the honor of the Crowning. From a practical point of view this boiled down to a chance for her class, which had been divided and shoved upon their home parishes for Communion, the opportunity to proudly display their Communion outfits to the rest of the school.



During the Mass YaYa was one of the kids to walk up and present the gifts of Bread and Wine to the priest. Afterwards, it was time for picture taking and a social get-together in the church basement. Here's YaYa and her classmate Annabelle:



and their class













For most of the social YaYa wanted nothing to do with us - no anger involved, just the usual urge for a kid to hang out and play with her friends.





But she came around in time for some pictures with her parents:





It was a very pleasant and friendly way to spend a weekday morning.

Roaches Anyone?

I don't know what's more creepy. The fact that this man consumes more than 20 roaches in a minute, or those weird fang like things handing down from his upper jaw. I reckon I could insert the standard "British dentistry" joke here, but it just seems gratuitous. Pay attention to the segment's host, who seems genuinely appalled at this stunt. H/T to VlogBlog



Personally, I'd rather be judging this contest, especially if there were a number of contestants in the running. Svetlana Pankratova has legs measuring 51.9 inches long, a world record.

anyone going to the circus parade?

Quote of the Day

LuLu came up to me with her piggy bank in hand. "Daddy, do you and Mommy have lots of money?" she asked.

I was so touched. Clearly she was going to offer us her hard earned nickels. What an angel.

"No honey, we don't," I said.

"Too bad, I do!" she said, and jiggled the bank in front of me before running off laughing.

No, nuke you moron

This is a bumper sticker I photographed (albeit poorly) in Milwaukee.

The car featured your standard issue indie band decals and "Yes We Can!" bumper stickers, along with almost as much rust as my Escort. In case you can't make out the doozy of a slogan in the picture, it reads "Fight Terror. Nuke Israel."

But that doesn't mean the guy is, like, a closet Anti-Semite who hides it under the guise of Leftist ideology. No, not at all.

Just back from the Frolics parade, followed by a little league game. Tired.