And Not A Moment Too Soon

I ran across this article yesterday. It's about a school in Fairfax County that is enforcing a "no-touching" rule that applies to hugs, hand-holding, and the dreaded high five. This will help to greatly reduce all manner of injuries children are suffering when asked to go both "up top" and "down low".

My uncle was killed "up top". True story.

Tomorrow night, Broadway Comedy Club at 9:30pm. $5 at the door if you would like to see my comedy.

If you would like to see "Fanastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer", well then I don't think you and I should hang out anymore.

Erin - 1, Spiders - Also 1

I live alone. I have lived alone for 4 years now. I love living alone. If the apartment is messy, there's no one to blame but myself. When I stumble in drunk on a Tuesday morning and decide that I want to make mashed potatoes and watch "Spongebob Squarepants"; I don't have to worry about waking anyone up and being forced to share my potatoes. Shadowpuppet shows? 7 nights a week when you live alone, my friend.

Of course, every now and then situations arise that would be much easier to deal with if I had a roommate. Bringing an air conditioner up a flight of stairs for example; it's much easier to do if there are two people to carry it, and if one of those two people isn't wearing rollerskates.

Wednesday night was a perfect example of a time when it would have been advantageous to have had someone else around to lend a hand.

I saw a spider up on the ceiling of my apartment, by the window that leads out onto my fire escape. I don't like spiders. Fact of the matter is, I hate spiders. I've seen "Arachnophobia", and "Krull", and the Sci-Fi Channel Original Movie "Ice Spiders". I know that these 8-legged bastards are just waiting for the right moment to jump in my face and kill me totally dead with their poisons.

So naturally I was both terrified and angered by this egregious intrusion. Who did this spider think he was? I'd show him! And I'd send a message to all his no-good spider friends in the process. The spider was too high above me to just smash with a shoe, which is my preffered MO. So I looked around for something I could hit it with that could reach the ceiling without my having to climb on anything. My Swiffer Sweeper seemed to be the perfect length, so I lined up underneath the spider, and smashed it. I smashed it good! I totally got that spider!!

My elation was short-lived however, because apparently the force from my justified attack on the arachnid interloper was a little extreme. No sooner was I celebrating my victory, than I saw the lamp globe from my overhead light in the kitchen start to vibrate, and then smash to the ground. And I mean smash. This friggin' thing shattered into one million pieces all over my floor. I stood in disbelief, with mouth agape, in a sea of glass shards. And of course I was in my bare feet, because only jerks walk around in shoes in their own apartment. So it was at this point that I wished there was someone else in my apartment who could come to my rescue, and at least clear a path through the glass so I could get to my shoes. That would've been sweet.

But there was no one but me, so I closed my mouth and got to work making a pathway for myself. One hour later I felt fairly confident I had gotten all the glass, and with minimal damage to my hands and feet. All in all, I think I came out on top. Because the spider? He's dead. Totally dead. And me? I'm just a little cut up.

Who's laughing now, spiders? Who's laughing and bleeding now?

My Homemade Rocket Flies No More

Terrible news in the land of learning today: Mr. Wizard has died.

And all around the world, eggs being dropped from rooftops shatter in despair; regardless of the structural integrity of the cotton ball and popsicle stick crates that contain them.

You will be missed by all of us who inadvertently learned something about science when tuning in to see if anything you concocted on the show could be used in battle against a sibling.

No joke here - Mr. Wizard kicked ass.

Because When It Comes To The Apocalypse...

In The Land Of Nod...

My dreams are bizarre. Last night was no exception.

I dreamt I was a member of the Soprano family. Word came that a rival mob family was out to kill us all, and we had to go into hiding. However the rival mob family was actually the entire cast of the movie "300". And there were scantily clad Spartans and things with rings in their faces EVERYWHERE. And so I'm hiding in the bathtub of some house in Newark NJ when they break through the forest (one of the many lush Newark forests) and start raining their flaming arrows down on us. I think they got Paulie. And then I woke up.

Are you an asshole like me? Then did you watch the MTV Movie Awards last night too? A sub-par awards show at best, I still can't seem to resist it's meager charm. However it was almost worth it when Sarah Silverman (PASS) said something about Paris Hilton going to jail, and the camera zoomed in on Paris, and she looked like a sad panda. And I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Jack Nicholson was there. What?

Bruce Willis was there. Yeah. Makes sense.

This guy makes me happy.