Always read the fine print

You know, as someone who sometimes eats the food served at 7-Eleven, it really doesn't give me a great sense of satisfaction that I get this joke.

I mean, it is a joke...right?

D is for DETAIL

The littlest things make all the difference sometimes. For instance, simply adding the letter D would change the first word on the sign featured here from a verb to an adjective and would clear up all kinds of confusion.
I don't know what the exact term we're using now to refer to special parking arrangements made for those who have certain mobility issues, but at least I know that's what they're talking about when they throw up a sign that says DISABLED PARKING. I have no idea what to do when they tell me to DISABLE PARKING. Is that an option on my transmission that I've never heard of before? Am I supposed to block the entry so cars can't get in there? Should I run over the parking attendant's legs? If so, where the hell is he supposed to park?

"This is not a good project at all"

I've been thinking lately about publishing a book, going the self-publishing route. There are all kinds of pros and cons around that, which I have studied thoroughly, and for what I want to do, it seems like the way to go. So I've decided I'm going to go ahead and do it. To do it the way I want requires some money though. Not a lot but some. To that end, I applied for a grant from the Hillsborough County Arts Council. Let me state right up front that I did not expect to get it. I know my material doesn't have mass appeal, certainly doesn't qualify as "art" and that this would be a fairly self-indulgent venture. Still, there was the potential of getting $1000 to pull it off, and nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Plus, I'd never applied for a grant before and figured if nothing else, it would be educational.



Oh, I got schooled all right.


Grants are tricky in that there are very specific instructions and criteria and attention to detail is crucial. I did it myself, to the best of my ability but felt that I was compliant with what was required. Again, I never got my hopes up but I felt pretty good about what I was able to put together and submit.


Last week, the committee that reviews the grant proposals met to give their recommendations. The notice for the meeting stated that applicants would not be allowed to offer a presentation but may be asked questions. I got the impression that it would be best if I attended, just in case by some fluke I had submitted something that may actually be borderline considerable. If that were the case, and answering a question or two spelled the difference between success and failure, I'd be crazy to not be there. Nothing ventured, nothing gained...


It's kind of a blur now (why that is will be made clear in a minute) but I think there were eight people on the panel, all representing various areas of expertise, giving scores based on the different criteria. In order to qualify for anything beyond initial consideration, the proposal needed an average score of 160 (out of a possible 200). Of course, at this point I still thought I had no shot. I fully expected to fail. Not in a fatalistic, "boo hoo, I suck, nobody likes me" way but as mentioned, simply because I don't think what I do is really the kind of thing an "arts council" would fund.


Boy, was I right.


I think mine was the third or fourth one to be reviewed. Susan Edwards, who was there as the literary expert led off with, "This is not a good project at all."


Wow. I don't know exactly what I was expecting, but it was not that. Maybe "this really isn't the kind of thing we do" or even "this needs work, go back and try again another time". And even then, tacked on at the end; not leading off with an outright dismissal due to being utterly devoid of any merit whatsoever. I definitely didn't expect a kick in the nuts, which is what I got. At some point between then and when she got done, I went into a state of shock. I tuned out and and stared at the floor, far too humiliated to even think about standing up and walking out. No, instead I stayed there until they adjourned for a break, slinking out a side door as quickly and stealthily as possible. I'll admit to being overly sensitive in some cases. However, I'm also very good at summoning up thick skin in situations when I think I'll need it, such as this one. In other words, I came in fully prepared to fail and fail hard. I did not prepare to fail, fail hard and be insulted. The insult was delivered with her score: "I give this 25 points."


Remember, 160 was required for bare minimum consideration to advance; she gave me less than 20% of what would be needed for a bare minimum passing grade. 25, not 0. You're not supposed to take rejection or criticism personally, especially if you're a writer. But that's giving someone a D- on a term paper instead of an F for spelling their name right. That's leaving a penny on the table instead of nothing at all because you want your server to know that you were dissatisfied and didn't merely forget to leave a tip. 25, not 0. That's an insult and it's also a rebuke. That's a recommendation that the writer's fingers be forcibly removed and replaced with some sort of implements incapable of gripping a pen or striking keys. That's not rejection or criticism. That's a "screw you". How do you not take that personally?  I don't know if anybody applied for funds to make pictures of seabirds by gluing macaroni to construction paper and mounting them on hunks of driftwood, but I can't imagine them getting worse feedback than I got.



This, combined with some pretty serious stress from a couple of personal issues I was attempting to deal with at the same time, sent me into a pretty severe tailspin. Oh, I brooded and I brooded hard. "This is not a good project at all." I was devastated. Over and over in my head, destroying me again and again. Did I retain anything even slightly positive from the experience, anything even remotely constructive? "...not...at all."


I don't know why, when or how but I eventually pulled myself out of it. Anytime something like this happens to me, there's never an "A-ha!"epiphany self-realization moment. Pep talks don't work. I think I just get tired of it. It's not like I'm smart enough to quit or brave enough to kill myself over it. So I guess I just get bored and move on to whatever the next thing is.


In the end, I'm at square one, which isn't really a surprise (I did mention that I didn't expect to get this grant, didn't I?). I don't know if Susan Edwards hates me for some reason (as far as I know, we've never even met). At this point, I don't give a shit. I do wonder how often things like this happen to other people. I kind of hope it's not infrequent. Otherwise, it means I'm the worst grant applicant in the history of grant applications. And I don't even know that she or anyone in her position is obligated to pat people like me on the head and protect our dewicate wittle feewings. But nobody likes to be kicked when they're down. And of course, she had no possible way of knowing that I was down. But why bother kicking at all? I feel bad for anybody who's just hung it up as a result of an interaction like this, though.


As for me, I'll be fine. I'm still going to do what I do, I'm going to do it the way I think it should be done and I'm going to use this little incident (it's not even a setback, since the only thing I lost was the time and energy I wasted feeling bad about it) as motivation.


So...thanks, I guess.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot: screw you, too.

Hyperbole must die!

There's an internet meme called "breading". What is it? Well, I'm very glad you asked. Because what it is is tearing a small hole in a piece of bread, putting it on your cat's head, taking a picture of it and posting it on line, as seen in the accompanying photograph:


(Note: This is NOT my cat)


Is it unquestionably pointless and irredeemably stupid? Yep.


Is it anything else? Nope.


But that doesn't stop people on Facebook from having really unnecessarily strong opinions about it...

"These cats don't look very happy a few look down right scared." - somebody named Teresa


"How sad." - somebody named Chris


"Really? Really? The cats don't think it's funny." - somebody named Janet


"Nice that some people have food to waste while others are starving" - somebody named Christine

Even though it's not my thing, I know there are a lot of people who get a big kick out of being righteously indignant. And if getting all worked up about cats with a piece of bread on their heads at the expense of all the starving people without bread to put on their heads keeps them from straying off and casting judgment on what's right and wrong about which people are sticking what objects into whichever other people's orifices, then by all means, have at it. I don't think the cats are in any serious discomfort but if couching it as anti-cruelty to animals helps, even better (Do I think the cats like it? No, probably not. I don't put bread on my cats heads. They do like chewing on electric wires and I don't let them do that. Come at me, Sarah McLachlan!). Of course, somebody always has to take it just a bit too far...

"This is why America is in trouble......stupid idiots have nothing better to do" - somebody named Linda

I'm not even going to comment on the obvious irony of someone taking time to sit down and comment on the internet about idiots (the stupid kind) with nothing better to do. But I am going to take issue with their basic premise; that being if people who put bread on cat's heads would simply apply themselves, we could eliminate poverty, health problems and the Westboro Baptist Church.

I'm sorry, but people who make proclomations about what's wrong with America are what's wrong with America.

Cool news for comedy fans on a budget!

Q: What's cooler than when a noble experiment produces postive results?
A: When those results signal the start of a movement.

Check out what pasty, Hot Pocket loving/hating comedian Jim Gaffigan posted on his web site last Wednesday:

Dear Internet Friends,


Inspired by the brilliant Louis CK, I have decided to debut my all-new hour stand-up special on my website, Jimgaffigan.com.


Beginning sometime in April, “Jim Gaffigan: Mr. Universe” will be available exclusively for download for only $5. A dollar from each download will go directly to The Bob Woodruff Foundation; a charity dedicated to serving injured Veterans and their families.


I am confident that the low price of my new comedy special and the fact that 20% of each $5 download will be donated to this very noble cause will prevent people from stealing it. Maybe I’m being naïve, but I trust you guys. Besides who would want the karma of stealing money from wounded Veterans? Come on you guys. How dare you even think about it?


I know I am taking a risk here. People I respect have advised me to take the safer, more traditional route with the premiere of the special. However, I am incredibly motivated by the courage of Louie to offer his fans direct access for a low price. Buyers of my special can be assured that their money will go directly to feeding and raising my four children instead of a giant corporation. I will self-produce a high quality special with all new material that will be incredibly easy to download and then you will own it. Forever. For $5. Roughly the price of five packs of Ramen Noodles. And believe me my special is going to be much better than five packs of disgusting Ramen Noodles. Gross.


Not going with a big corporation means I wont have any advertising. There will be no bells and whistles or billboards but maybe you can help. If you like the special, tell you friends to download it too. That’s the best kind of advertising anyway.


I must admit that I have not felt this excited and nervous since I first tried stand up over 100 years ago. It’s humbling to take a risk that you are not sure will work. You don't know if a joke will bomb unless you try it.


If no one buys the special or if lots of people steal it then I suppose I will lose a lot of money and have egg on my face. But then again I have four kids so I am always losing money and usually have egg or some kind of food on my face so it might just feel normal.

Let me know what you think.

Your Best Friend,
Jim

@JimGaffigan
Facebook.com/JimGaffigan
Jimgaffigan.tumblr.com

Of course, I'm thrilled. Not only because Gaffigan makes me laugh (Hot Pockets make his back hurt) but because this further erodes the wall between artists and fans that has padded the pockets of middlemen (and women...let's not be sexist when chronicling the exploits of parasites) for far too long.

We could be heroes

The great Rocky Bridges once asserted that there are three things an average man thinks he can do better than anyone else; run a hotel, build a fire and manage a baseball team. Well, I don't know that this makes me above average, but there's a fourth thing that I'm pretty sure I'm better at than anybody else; assembling a team of crime-fighting superheroes.

Okay, so (sadly) there is no such thing as an actual superhero like you'd find in comic books, like Batman or Captain America. And maybe that's good. Because with great power comes great responsibility, which translates to a proportionately greater risk of really bad things happening if that responsibility is abdicated and that power is abused.

What happens if this guy just gets kinda bored with Truth, Justice and The American Way?

Yeah, maybe a little bit of power and not-so-much responsibility would be best for all involved. With those more manageable parameters in mind, I put this line-up of local (Tampa Bay) crusaders together to form a group I like to call....

Steve Jerve aka The Weatherman - It's the middle of February and it's 75°, partly cloudy with a 12 mph breeze out of the south and no rain. Thank you, Weatherman! "You know, I've told you repeatedly that I don't make the weather", he says. Sure you don't, Steve. Sure you don't *WINK*.

The Ghosts of Lee Roy Selmon and Freddie Solomon aka The Spirits of Benevolence & Class - Selmon and Solomon were former NFL football players who made far greater impact with their charitable efforts and community work in the Tampa Bay area than with anything they ever did on the football field...which is saying something, considering they were both OUTSTANDING players. Tragically, we lost both of them recently. However, their spirits live on in the good works of other pro athletes who have played for Tampa Bay teams over the years like Derrick Brooks, Vincent Lecavalier and Warrick Dunn among others. 

Dusty Showers aka The Duster (actually, more aka Pink Bra Boy) - A tireless warrior in the ongoing battle against cancer, Dusty walks the walk...literally. he logged 240 miles in Komen 3-Day Walks in 2011. He also found time  to donate gift cards and auction items to a fundraiser benefiting a 32 year old woman facing a battle with stage 4 breast cancer, provided the funds for a survivor’s husband to have medically necessary major reconstructive dental surgery, provided a tour of Fenway Park in Boston with game day tickets and a player meet and greet for a survivor facing a cancer recurrence to her brain and, through a partnership with The Westchase Foundation, provided funds to a young survivor facing her second battle with breast cancer and the threat of homelessness due to the high costs associated with her new treatment regimen. All while wearing a pink bra and cowboy hat, which he does, all the time, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. "Nope. That's not true and you know it", he would say, to which I would reply "Hey, it's a thing and it's working." 

Kevin Beckner and Mark Sharpe aka The Wonder Twins (as in I WONDER why more elected officials can't work together like this) - Mild-mannered Hillsborough County Commissioners, Beckner is a Democrat and Sharpe is a Republican. In their day-to-day lives, they go about the business of administering the business of running the fourth highest-populated county in the state of Florida. But when a major issue comes along, they touch their magic county commissioner rings together and speak the words, "Wonder Twin powers activate. Form of...a compromise that temporarily supercedes the differences of opinion that result from our differing political ideologies for the sake of finding a solution that benefits the greatest number of constituents." Sure, it's a mouthful, but it results in things like fewer staged traffic accidents and payroll increases for hard-working people.

I'm back...and with solid-gold backing!

Trust us!

Hello everyone.
As you may be aware, I have been away from the keyboard for a while. It’s nice to be back. I hope everyone was okay while I was away. It was about a week and a half but it seems much, much longer. You wouldn’t expect things to change in such a relatively short time, but they always, always, always do. For example, apparently this very blog has a new sponsor; a company called Runescape Gold. I know this because they posted 18 comments to previously published articles here between 4:37 am and 5:42 am this past Saturday! Comments like this:

“This kind of post continues to be a little bit of a revelation if you ask me.” –posted to ‘Hateny’

And this:

“I will be thus pleased this specific world wide web thing functions along with your post genuinely solved the problem. Normally takes you up on that will property advice you” – posted to ‘Dicks can’t drive’

And this:

“I recently stumbled on your current report and also have been recently reading through together. I would like to express my love of your respective writing skill along with ability to help make viewers go through right away for the conclusion. I have to read modern content Buy Runescape Gold and talk about my thoughts along. “ – posted to ‘The mark of true professionalism!’

Who would go to all the trouble of parsing together a bunch of nouns and verbs and adjecadabras into something that kind of resembles sentences (well, not the kind spoken by someone who hadn’t had a garage door slammed on their head, but still, sentence-y-esque) if they didn’t have a stake in the enterprise? After all, only some utterly irredeemable ASSHOLE would just co-opt someone's space for the sake of advertising their own goods and services without even offering some form of compensation. So yeah, it looks like I have a corporate sponsor. That’s the kind of thing you’d think I’d know about firsthand, but I guess I missed the memo I was supposed to send to myself.


And while there’s been no exchange of money yet (at least on my end), comments on blog posts aren’t proper advertisements for such a fine business as Runescape Gold. So I went ahead and put something together for them that’s a little more appropriate. Gee, I sure hope they like it!

Here now to for buying the gold of purpose we are. Who?

Runescape Gold!

Who else?
A benefit. A reputable company. Normal guys, who sell, buy and sell the gold and almost never make rapes sometimes!

For you, too? Why not of course!

Satisfied makes? Then good!

Give us then to it? Feel sure!

Hear now is when a celebrity speaks:


American reality TV superstar! Heed his advise!

 “Hi, I’m Jerry Sandusky, disgraced former football coach and the worst person in the world that you’re currently aware of. When I’m not ruining the reputation of a respected institution of higher learning and its athletic department, feasting sexually on children or otherwise being horrible in some way that we don't even know about yet, I’m probably the kind of tool who would do business with a company like Runescape Gold.
Runescape Gold: the official gold broker of reprehensible kiddy-diddlers and all-around scum...like me!”

Hiatus extended

Looks like I need a little more time to deal with the stuff with which I am dealing. How much more time? I have no idea. Time is the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole. I'm not sure I know what that means. All I know for sure is two things; one, that I need more of it (that's where the indefinite part comes in, I guess) and two, I will be back. Soon as I know when, you will too.
A such, this might be the only post this week. Or not. Check back on Monday. If there's nothing there, try Wednesday and then again on Friday. I know that's a pain in the ass and I'm sorry. I'd respectfully ask that you grant me this indulgence and that you not give up on me, please. Or do. Whatever suits your whims. I try not to take that shit personally but I make no promises.

In the meantime, these people will serve some LOLZ up for you. Grab yourself a spoon and dig in (metaphorically, so to speak...which is redundant).

• F (STOP)
• The Food Of Jeff!
• MikeLortz.com/JordiScrubbings.com
• Marissology part deux
• Original Thoughts of an Unoriginal Thinker
• Out in Left Field
• ronnyelliott
• RottenMom
• Rupe's Value Added Services
• The World Of Jeff!

Revisiting Carol's Corner (part 3)

(Note: I have been taking a brief hiatus to deal with a personal matter and plus I am was out of LOLZ anyway. So I've taken this opportunity to re-run some previously published items submitted by my mom. I hope you enjoyed it. Otherwise, new fart jokes coming your way again next Monday. -- C)

Grocery Stores (June 16, 2009)
(Something my mom and I have in common; we see weird things happen in grocery stores...)
Today on my lunch hour I decided to go to the local grocery store which is right around the corner. It is a locally owned small chain on the order of Florida’s Publix. I only got 3 items so I went to the quick check out lane. As I am approaching the counter I see a man with a big cardboard box on the counter. I get next to him and see that he is buying a chain saw!! Now, this is just a grocery store chain not a mega store like WalMart. Of course they also had whole boneless ribeyes at $4.99 a pound. Maybe the idea is to get a whole ribeye and the chainsaw so you can go home and slice your own steaks. OK I understand now.
On my way home from work there is a Kroger store which I stop at also. They send out a weekly flier and last year they had a sale on Lean Cuisine dinners. Now the problem I had with this one is that if you bought 10 of the frozen dinners you got ½ gallon of ice cream for free. Isn’t that defeating the whole purpose?
I lead a pretty boring life. I guess that most of my excitement seems to come from the simple task of grocery shopping. Well, I guess we get our thrills where we can.

Revisiting Carol's Corner (part 2)

(Note: I am taking a brief hiatus to deal with a personal matter and plus I am currently out of LOLZ anyway. So I'm going to take this opportunity to re-run some previously published items submitted by my mom. I hope you enjoy. -- C)





Hooked on Phonics (May 26, 2009)

Here's my mom again. I think she's starting to like blogging. It's a healthy way to express your frustrations. I'll bet she wishes she'd had a blog when I was a kid, ha ha!! (shaddup) I told her she can chime in whenever she wants so I'll be listing all her contributions under "Carol's Corner". I'm calling it that because I'm an adult now and I can use the given name of my parents if I want to. Now I have to go because I think I hear one of the cats chewing on my wind-up robot dinosaur.


Hey, it's Clark's mom again and I really need to vent. Clark said I could write anytime so I figured that this is the perfect place.


One day last week I need to fill my gas tank. I pull up to the pumps, get out and find a hand printed sign on the pump saying:


Incert credit card exactly like the picture.


What??


A few years back I saw the following sign in the window of another gas station:


No personal checks accepted. No acceptions.


I work in an automotive manufacturing plant and this winter over one of the men's rooms doors was the sign:


Plese wipe feet.


The thing that really bothered me about this one is that I mentioned it to at least two dozen other people and none of them even noticed the spelling. How can you NOT notice it? These things scream out to me when I see them. I guess that both correct spelling and just being observant are now things of the past.


Okay, I feel better now.

Revisiting Carol's Corner (part 1)

(Note: I am taking a brief hiatus to deal with a personal matter and plus I am currently out of LOLZ anyway. So I'm going to take this opportunity to re-run some previously published items submitted by my mom. I hope you enjoy. -- C)


Happy Mothers Day (May 8, 2009) 


In keeping with a longstanding American tradition of children giving their moms nothing of actual value for a gift on Mothers day, I am turning this space over to me own dear mum. Ladies and gentlemen, the first guest blogger in the history of this site and also the first woman to ever give birth to me, my mom...


Hi, my name is Carol Brooks and I have the privilege of being Clark's mom. I live in Mishawaka, IN and ship military HUMVEES all over the world for a living. Clark has given me a chance to take over his blog for Mothers Day. Just my chance to get even with him and tell you a few tales about his growing up.


He has a younger sister, Connie. When they were little he had her convinced that she was adopted. He had her so convinced that I had to take her to our library and show her the old local newspaper with the announcement of the birth of a baby girl to Mr & Mrs Brooks on her birthday. He also has a cousin, Mary Beth, whom the family calls "MB". Of course he wasn't happy with that name so he changed MB to "monkey breath". Where did I go wrong?


When he was in grade school I got a call from the teacher about the joke he was telling his classmates: What word starts with F and ends with UCK? His answer: firetruck. What could I say, he was right.


And yes, he really does have an aunt, Joan, and she used to drive a minivan. She knows how Clark feels about minivan drivers so just last week she got rid of hers and now drives a Saturn.


Over the years it has really been an experience raising Clark. I'm not sure the job is done yet. In the middle of winter he loves to call me and complain about how warm it is in Florida! But in the long run he really was a good kid and a heck of a lot of fun with one of the greatest senses of humor of anyone I know. I am proud to be his mom.


And I'm proud to be your sonny boy, mom. Happy Mothers Day. I love you.


PS: I remain unconvinced that Connie is not adopted.

The best bad show not on tv

If you're a person who uses the internet (and if you aren't, one of us is doing something wrong as you shouldn't be able to read this right now), at least half your time is probably spent doing research on the past. A good site to find wacky/creepy retro items is The Kitsch Bitch. They have a page on Facebook too. Go there (later, after you read this) and relive some horrifyingly hilarious haute couture history.
A while back, Laura Douglas, the lovely beloved of Mr. Jeff Hickmott (whom you may remember as a guest contributor here during the last two Guest Author Months) tagged a godawful photo from some long-fogotten catalog with mine and Jeff's names. Well, I can't have a photo with my name attached to it on the internet without offering some sort of comment or explanation, so I did. And so did Jeff. I guess this amused Laura because she keeps doing it...and we keep commenting. Our pal Michael Noble (who may or may not have done a guest spot or two here too) has also been drawn into the silliness now. And to be totally honest, the fault for it all lies squarely at the feet of Marissa Rapier (also a guest contributor) for connecting everyone in the first place. At any rate, it's sort of bcome a thing, with the ongoing theme of scenes taken from a '70s buddy cop show that didn't quite make it on the air (if Quentin Tarantino is reading this, I'm sure we can work something out as far as publi$hing right$ is concerned). 
But regardless of whose fault it is (Marissa's), posted below are the photos and the accompanying commentary.
Enjoy.

 Clark: This is me and Jeff Hickmott relaxing after we solve crimes. You should see our car!

Jeff: This is me and my fellow crimefighter Clark Brooks relaxing after we've solved all the crime downtown.
Clark: I remember this! It was after we busted that banana smuggling ring down at the docks. "And we'd have gotten away with it, if not for Jeff Hickmott and Clark."
Jeff: That's right Clark, not forgetting the help of our wheelman Michael Noble.
Michael: I remember this! You guys wouldn't let me in the photo because you said my Speedo wasn't "shiny" enough (*cough, cough*) and I would "detract" from the overall look of the photo if I was in it. (*That* was a crock ...) Personally?...I think the dazzling cut of my jib would have improved the ambiance of the image, but ... you know, as I've mentioned to others before: "Clark and Jeff need their egos stroked without my glowing self overtaking them each and every time we get together. They sometimes have fragile constitutions and I don't want to trample on their sometimes 'delicate sensibilities' ..." No harm, no foul, guys...
Jeff: Like, what-everrr, Michael...And Clark, I think it was a budgie smuggling ring if I remember rightly?
Michael: Unreal. You're *still* jealous ...
Laura Douglas: I love you guys.
Clark: No Jeff, I'm pretty sure it was bananas. Or maybe plantains. And Michael, I don't know why we need to know about the cut of your jib. Your religious upbringing is none of our business.
Michael: Clark is doubly jealous!
Marissa: ‎...and to think I was responsible for the union of the trio *face plant*
Laura: Sorry Jeff Hickmott, but now that you have had your Christmas lunch you may have to avoid the shiny speedos.

Laura: My three favourite crime fighters.
Jeff: Matching uniforms and all!
Clark: I couldn't figure out why everybody is different sizes in this picture but then I remembered that this was that case where Michael Noble went undercover as a ventriloquist and Jeff Hickmott served as his dummy. I believe we called it "It Takes A Dummy".
Michael: I remember this! It was the first time - no ... the *second* time! - I met up with Jeff. He kept on trying to trip me up about his last name, playing silly little games about it. "Hackmouth." "Hickleberry." "Honkmeth." "Hiccups-alot." And,... at the very end, he almost had me convinced it was really "Hickeys By Mouth." (But *that's* another story.) Anyway ... it was a ruckus. Jeff kept screwing up my undercoveredness by responding and talking out of turn as The Dummy. It was bad ... bad ...I think Clark put him up to it, but I don't have proof. The only good thing? We got to keep the clothes. (I still have mine, wear the shirt on occasion and play with the zipper. The trousers no longer fit ...) And that "hemmed to your exact inseam" ... ??? The dude that did the hemming? His name was Lester The Letch.

Jeff: Here's me with Clark Brooks and Michael Noble, in cunning disguise as the Jason King triplets!
Clark: Yes, I had to stand in the middle because that scarf made people so angry, they wanted to beat me up.

Clark Brooks Ah, another from the crime fighting files of me, Michael Noble and Jeff Hickmott. This particular episode was titled either "Tu-nic's Company, Three's a Crowd" or "Pancho No Get-o the Memo". This case involved going undercover to bust a black market operation that was using an intramural sports program on an indian reservation to smuggle yarn.

Proof that there is something wrong with me

meme/mēm/
Noun:  1.An element of a culture or behavior that may be passed from one individual to another by nongenetic means, esp. imitation.



2.An image, video, etc. that is passed electronically from one Internet user to another.

I love memes. They're my favorite source of organic, spontaneous comedy. Yesterday, I was exploring the meme involving online customer reviews when I saw something that made me laugh so hard that I was incapacitated. I mean, side-ache, unable to breathe, tears in my eyes, the whole thing. You know, that thing that happens to everyone from time to time, usually during the time around infancy to the time around age 13 or so.
I'm 47.
The bad part? I was at work.
The worse part? I couldn't stop looking at it; every time I calmed down enough to regain my composure, I had to look at it again.
The even-worse-than-that part? I doubt anyone finds it even remotely as funny as I did.
At any rate. here it is. Judge me if you must...

At least 500X more hilarious than any episode of "Whitney"

The absolute rock-bottom worst part? It still has that effect on me. I can barely type this.
I may have to get one (just the mask) for myself.

Here's a link to the sale page for the horse mask on Amazon.com. Read the reviews. For added fun, take a shot every time you see a reference to Sarah Jessica Parker.