Friday's National Health Food Day

Ah - another perk of being an American - the ability to make anything delicious and lethal. Exhibit one - fried green beans. With a side of mayonaise sauce. At least you will die full. Bury me in a red and white tablecloth.

Why I Love the Japanese

In preparation for hibachi dinner tonight, I thought I would share with you why it is I love the Japanese. It is summed up in this picture. They do things simply because. Because it is beautiful. Because it gives them a pleasant sense of symmetry. Do you need an arch in the middle of the water? No! An American wouldn't build such a thing - but a group of Japanese got together over a couple of bottles of sake and started a conversation with "you know what would make this water view better..." I love that.

Food from the Office Front

Just a random tidbit. Someone was kind enough to bring a selection of dipping mustards... garlic, spicy, the like. I assume the small bowl of salt that accompanies them on the counter used to be pretzels, but unfortunately they seem now to be intentionally paired with a large bin of animal crackers. Actually, now I'm curious - BRB.
Hmmm, well, a polar bear (or was it a sea anemone) met Jalapeno Garlic Sauce, and surprisingly the combination tasted precisely like it's component parts. There was a spicy, herbed body with sweet 'nilla wafer finish. Perhaps other shapes would yield different results. I think a giraffe in horseradish is next...

On Winning the Lottery

There are certain stories that a friend tells you to which you reply "wow, with luck like that, you should play the lottery". Before you go spending your next paycheck on QuickPick tickets, consider this: how much luck/karma do you think you have left?

Here's the tale... my friend was driving home from work in his recently purchased vehicle. Like me, this is the first non-ghetto vehicle he has owned. I mean, I'm a serious fan of cheap, durable cars in which you never have to double-think merging aggressively with, but the game of "will it start today" can get old. My friend has me beat... he actually purchased a new-from-the-lot car (vs my newest-used-I-ever-owned). He got a great deal on it, and he has less perchance than me for hitting deer and reflectors. The point being, he is very protective of his car.

Back to that fateful evening... it is dusk out (alright, I don't know for sure if it was dusk, but who's telling the story?)... inky night was grasping at the woods. Nothing stood out in the headlights but the hungry eyes of pack animals. Ahead of him at a distance was a lumbering dump truck. As he was lost in reverie about hydrogen microturbines as a solution to global energy demands, a golfball sized rock, presumably from the dump truck's load, smashed into the middle of his windshield with a terrific "crack".

His sympathetic nervous system dilated subjective time. After what seemed like minutes (but mere seconds in reality) he realized three things 1) he was alive 2) he was glad he had stain resistant seats 3) the windshield was intact. But how could this be? The rock had enough kinetic energy to drive a nail into an oak...

On inspection, it turns out that the rock had miraculously hit the windshield wiper... snapping the metal backing like a dry twig. This exact placement and only this placement meant the rock left no damage to the windshield or the paint of the body. Ready for the amazing part? The wipers were on at the time. The rock had hit dead-center on the windshield, but caught the wiper-blade mid-sweep. Only the fact that it was a bit snowy and slushy had caused him to have his wipers on.

But that's not all. It was damp, but not very damp... the wipers had been on extended intermittent. Ponder the timing for a second... two moving vehicles... different speeds... a random bounce of the rock... and a wiper that happened to choose the right instant to come on, seemingly reaching out to deflect the rock, sacrificing itself to save the greater automobile.

$13 later my friend has two new wiper blades and a tale worthy of passing on to the grandchildren. "Kids, I may never have won the lottery, but let me tell you about the time I beat the unbeatable odds."

The Fishbowl

How to deliver swift, sweet death to your liver. Perfect for grabbing a quiver of straws and sharing with your machoest friends. Btw - it ends up being blue.

True Wisdom

Bad Tourist, Bad!

The second photo in the "Signs of Ireland" series. This comes to us from the lovely Cliffs of Moher. Breathtaking place, just not known for it's rule-following tourists. The third photo in this series will give an example of somewhere on the same grounds where there is muscle behind the warning.

Ergonomics for Men

Repetitive stress disorders are a serious issue. Extended computer use can lead to life-long injuries in your wrists, especially your mouse hand. While ergonomic products are out there, they are often ignored - especially by men - until it is to late and surgery is your only option. One innovative company is here to change that.

Allow me to introduce a line of wrist-supporting mouse pads for men (and a select number of women). Concerned about your wrist health? Head over to Chest Rest today!

Their lawyers would like to note though, Chest Rest mouse pads are shown to decrease dominant hand wrist injuries from mousing only. Some users have experience unexplained increases in carpal tunnel syndrome symptoms.

Thank you to the grouchy old cripple for sharing this innovation with the world. And stay tuned for a new line of mouse pads from Sir Mixalot.

Speak Quietly - Wallpaper

Number two in the Wallpaper of the Day series. I was once accused of being a warmonger... but that's not it. I believe in peaceful resolution of conflicts, but some situations cannot be cured by Gandhian resistance. Sometimes you have to have the biggest, baddest stick there is. Abusing that power is a separate issue. And no, I do not want to give up my personal rights to "be safer".

But hey, at least he looks cute in a tie.

The plane, for those without the 411, is a Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit stealth heavy bomber - conventional and nuclear capable. "B-2, for when it absolutely positively has to be nuked over-night (and in person)".

Or are you just happy to see me?

Some friends are easier to talk into things that others. This photo resulted from a simple "hey, go grab his light saber". Now I don't care if the Jedi's were "long ago and far away" - you know some of them used "light saber" as a euphamism (those whose species reproduce that way - there are the Garlacks of Trellian D that mate by shaking hands - I learned that one the hard way).

Stereotypes

If I wear a dress do I get to use this restroom ?

Co-location of Businesses

Perhaps they should have considered the subconscious message the unfortunate location of their used car lot would send.

Whatcha Wanna Drink?

"Hey buddy, just give me an f'in vodka."

I'm So Emo

When life give you emo lemons, juice them to put them out of their misery. And yes, as you can tell, this shirt can be had at Goats.com

Miller Time

Cold. Check. Quick. Huh? Convenient. What the?
What exactly is the message they were going for? I think the Miller ad boys got together, sampled a bunch of the product and just started throwing pleasant adjectives around. Then they must have been too hung over to recheck their work before sending it off to get it immortalized in neon and glass.

So what's next?

• Miller Lite - Guaranteed to fit any car cupholder.


• Guiness. Tepid. Slow. Rebellious.


• When you're unemployed, Miller Time is Any Time!


• Lite: not really a word.* Miller: not really a beer.

* "lite" is a term used for a pane of glass in a window - "light" is a dietary term meaning "at least 1/3 fewer calories or no more than half the fat of the original product". I wonder if that means Miller Lite didn't meet the cut to be "light" so they branded it to fool you. Curse you evil beer companies and your irresistable product. Curse you!

Only in America

"Who do you think is going to win the Super Bowl?"
"I don't care. I'm a soccer fan - I don't watch football."

Now, were this conversation to happen in a bar, there would probably be a fight ;)

What's Better than a Stupid Sign?

A corporate reminder to follow the stupid sign. Though, I would pay serious money for a picture of this sign in the foreground and in the background a car stalled in a flood. Who knows what I could get... after all, this one was sent to me by someone. That kind of thing is encouraged ;)

Wallpaper of the Day

Let's try something new shall we? Ever get bored with your wallpaper, no matter how cool it is in the beginning? It's human - we push the familiar into the background so we can be ready for leaping tigers.

Now, despite the title, don't expect a new wallpaper every day... just frequently enough so you can set your wallpaper to whichever catches your fancy, and another will be along before it annoys you too much. I will shamelessly be stealing most of my graphics, but I will give credit in the fine print of the image (this fine work is from Goats.com the online comic).

This wallpaper warns of the impending uprise of the monkeys... it begins now with them telepathically controlling robots and ends with an overthrow of humans with hoards of pirate-robot-monkey troops! Remember - they invented the opposable thumb - but they don't even need it to defeat us! The simian revolution is at hand!

Have any wallpaper topics that you would like created? No matter how bizarre, it can be done... I take it as a personal challenge! Special props to my friend who came up with the concept for this one. I'd email him my thanks, but his Outlook is probably in dispose.

For those who need to know, click through to the large image... right click on the picture and "Set as Background" (it is 1024x768).

Foot in Mouth Disease

So let me tell you how the story goes...

The bar now has a really kewl setup where they jacked a cellphone into a laptop which runs custom software so that when you text their number it is displayed on a flatpanel TV (/end run-on-sentence). Now this TV is over a large booth. So last night I was first to post - go me! A little later it got a bit more crowded (i.e. we weren't the only ones there) and a group sat in that booth.

Oh, come on... a group of people sitting under a giant electronic billboard that is at my command?! How could I resist? I am amused at the thought of the TV being alive and talking with the crowd - so I text "Dood - can you believe the guys below me?"... and chuckled to myself. It was meant in the best of humor, but when they noticed it, they seemed a bit concerned. Reflecting on it from their perspective, I could see that they might have taken it as an insult. They didn't know what tone it was intended to be in.

Now I hate to be an asshole - especially to a bunch of folks I don't even know if they deserve it. And even more-so when I don't mean it. So I think, and decide to resolve it with another message... but everything is best delivered with a bit of humor. I retake the tone of a TV looking down on the group and text "Just kidding - but that one guy is balding". Funny, because the table is packed with college age girls and a few guys.

Satisfied that I have made all right in the world I go to use the restroom. On the way back I realize a slight mistake... the guy standing up at the end of the table with the group facing the TV is collegeish age and has a crew-cut... but that's because his hairline has made a very severe march north.

Ooops...

Needless to say, I stopped trying to make ammends, because how could I? "Hey, sorry - I was trying to apologize for before and be funny, but I didn't realize there really was a bald guy with you"? It was best to stop digging.

OCC OD?

Stop. Marvel for a moment. Have they gone too far? Nothing preserves your bad-ass image and street cred like having your head plastered on a candy dispenser. I think it's time to get a new manager if you can't at least get your mug on a bobble-head. Oh god, I can see the commercial for this now.

A dusty, leather-clad band of Hell's Angles rumbles up to a saloon. Close-up shot of a bike from ground level as the engine reluctantly cuts off... down goes the kickstand with the help of a chrome-tipped boot. Slowly it pans up the length of a chap-wearing ruffian, complete with massive belt-buckle engraved with the name "Khan". As the camera reaches his face he pulls off his limo-tint shades which leave a light tan-line in the road-grit on his face. He flicks a toothpick on the ground and dismounts.

As his compatriots file inside behind him, he addresses the camera. "You know, long days of riding and raising hell all night takes a lot out of a man". A former patron of the bar is tossed head-long out the screen door to the saloon. "But I have my own way of keepin' going". He reaches into his vest pocket and produces a small plastic toy. "Pez candy. Packed with energy and always convenient in my collectible Orange County Chopper dispenser". He pops one in his mouth and chews emphatically. "My hawg may be Harley, but my Pez is OCC". He turns to enter the bar and we see his vest is embroidered with "Pez or Death".

Ad Placement

Now how did they know they would reach their target audience by putting this here?

True Fans

Does it even matter what the rest of the sign says? Don't worry that those are kids holding the sign. I'm sure they are just Bobby and Suzy Pecker... children of forward John Pecker.

Nosebleed Section

Three highest places in the world - Everest, K2, Row L. Bring oxygen.

Dodge a Deer

Top right corner of the emblem, see that brown sliver? That is a deer hair. I'm sure you are at a loss as to how it got there... but here's the story anyway.

Before I get into my story, here's the humorous cliff notes. I hit a deer. I drive a "Dodge". The logo is a ram, with head lowered to charge. And now back to the story.

Leaving work on the cusp of dark last night I turn out of the parking lot onto a mostly residential road. Doing just over 30 I'm tooling along, trying to dodge the manhole covers that seem strategically placed to be hit. I mean, you always hit a couple and remember "this is that road with the stupid recessed manhole covers". After hitting a few more you figure out how to shy away from the center line to avoid them. Then, just as you learn to do that, the procession of holes shifts so that you catch one dead-center. The last one seems to move on a daily basis in a completely random fashion. I swear a crew is out there every morning with a shovel and a background radiation amplifier figuring out whether to put the last hole on the left or right of the lane.

So, while mentally calming myself for the running of the gauntlet ahead of me, a message slowly filters in from my occipital lobes... There is something brown in my lane. Something rather big and brown. Rather rapidly the fuzzy image processing parts of me realize "hey, that's a deer (female) standing perpendicular to me in my own lane". Reflexively I start slowing and aim left. With this, the deer (let's call her Jane) decides that since she is almost at the far right curb already, she should abort the crossing and return to the left side of the road from whence she came (if you don't know that joke about swimming the English channel, I'll tell it to you some time).

Upon noticing that Jane has turned around and started back across the road like she's doing a "Russian Shuttle-run" I start doing a little back of the envelope physics extrapolation. I come to the realization 1) we are on a collision course and I should lock my brakes and 2) after locking them (something I didn't know I could do on my car) that I was not going to stop in time. In the last moments I had time to register the fact that for all the back-woods driving at dusk I have done (refer to my recent move to "the city") this will be the first time I actual hit a deer.

Seen them - all the time. Had to dodge / stop to yield right of way? Sure. Honk, roll down my window, and ask them to please move - once or twice. Actually, only now do I recall that I had hit a deer before. Once while barreling along at 75 a deer flashed in front of me at a full run - the speed and timing such that he lept from my right and I managed to graze his arse with my right bumper corner. When you see the new Lexus IS commercial where they drop a car from a helicopter, you will know what kind of timing was involved. I think the deer walked away from that one and the car was fine.

But I wasn't thinking about that last night. At this point in the story I was thinking about how I have really grown to enjoy my car's rounded lines. Nothing fancy, just a clean look. That, and "I don't like killing harmless animals". So, with that final thought amid the squealing tires I make contact with Jane full broadside.

I smash into her at a bone-crushing 3 mph or so. It's just enough to knock her off her feet so that she leans on the hood as I take her for a 2 foot car ride. When the last of my kinetic energy departs, she is deposited back on the ground, staggers a bit and then runs off. Well, that's not true - it takes the width of the other lane for her to regain her footing while walking... and she sticks her tongue out at me.

This deer had the audacity to cross the road in the dark, taking her time - strolling along... not watching for vehicles... not wearing reflective gear... she runs into my path (while I'm trying to avoid her) and then gives me a good ole deer F.U. before taking off! And all I got for the whole ordeal was a single hair wedged in my hood emblem! Some nerve!

Signs of Ireland 1

The first in a series of signs from across the pond.

No dancing zone. If you bust a move beyond this point, people below will throw garbage.

Little Devil

Ha-Ha! I have your number Little Debbie... It was only a matter of time before that redhead stopped hiding behind her wholesome image and came right out with it! I knew she would tire of selling Cosmic Brownies and Oatmeal Creme Pies.

You think you could ease the clueless public into eating your blasphemous confections... with your "Devil Cremes Cakes" and now this! Why don't you call them what you really mean... Satan Squares! Don't think you can pull the wool over my eyes Little Debbie - I see you as the dark lord worshipper that you are - even if you do try and cover it up by selling "Angel Food Cakes"...

Now that I'm done with my Scooby-style unmasking, let me point out that Little Debbie is also sponsoring NASCAR vehicle #21.

Several things on this... At first snack cakes seemed incongruous with NASCAR, but then I thought about it... who is the target market for Little Debbie? I mean, between Budweisers the fans sometimes tire of pork-rinds and might crave something sweet. A brilliant move on their part.

Did anyone notice that #21 is co-sponsored by the Air Force? Should a branch of the world's most powerful military force really be playing (small) second fiddle to a girl in a bonnet? Shouldn't the USAF have their own car - and shouldn't they be allowed to put an afterburner on it?

Here we are on the last lap of the Daytona 500 and the Air Force car #21 is in first place... as they come around the last corner it is a close finish with the Little Debbie car #666 coming up fast... Captain Richards, pilot of the #21 car accelerates into the straightaway and... oh, my... it seems the #21 car has taken flight. The #666 car takes that lead and will clench this victory. Hold on... it seems Capt. Richards has circled back around for a strafing run... it looks like he is too close for missiles... yes, he's switching to guns aaaand... yep he has just neutralized the Little Debbie car. Score another win for the boys in blue.

BTW, what must this sponsorship do for the manhood of Ken Schrader, driver of #21? I mean at least the guy in the Tide car has a cool color scheme... and doesn't have a little girl on his hood. Though, perhaps this has psychological value when passing other cars... maybe on the back of the car it says "you just got passed by a little girl in blue plaid".

Rocky Waters

This personal poetic work is allowed on the site because... well, I'll tell you afterwards.

Curled for warmth against the night
I try to embrace sweet sleep
But my by bed is ever shifting
As the oceans dark and deep

Peak and trough the rolling waves
Dig in your claws and fight
The pitch and yaw of heaving deck
Through to morning light

Cast upon the swaying water
Tossed on restless seas
Fragile is my slumbering
Between my master's knees

For I'm a feline pedigreed
Queen of hearth and home
So through the night I wonder
though not I am alone:

Why am I doomed
to sleep on
the ever rocky waters
that is my human?

So why did I include it? Because I'm expressing myself! Alright, that and because this was inspired by a text message partially included in the last stanza. See, if you want to become as random as me you must 1) watch "Who's Line is it Anyway" ('though someone should tell Ryan Stiles that homosexual overtones in humor can be over-used... or just plain beaten to death... other than that, love you man) and 2) surround yourself with "unique" friends.

What's a "unique" friend? Let's just say you know them when you see them ;) Here's to all my friends - "odds are, at any given moment, something funny is happening to one of us".

How to Market to Men

Now, to be fair I placed the magazine for the photo op, but it was sitting directly across the aisle, alone, with the corn chips. I put it back in case the guy who left it there came back. I mean, he's probably armed and munchy - you don't want to cross that.

Beer Prayer

This was passed on to me by a friend - it puts the right light on religion. I mean Christians have it all wrong... Remember Jesus' water-to-wine trick? This is obviously a dude that when he said: this is the covenant "poured out for you" - he didn't mean a skimpy little shot of Manischewitz! I mean, look at the long history between monks and beer...

Down at the Dollar Store

I always wondered how they got their stuff so cheap. Explains the quality too... Not that I'm bashing the store - it's the only place to stock up on chem-lights and mylar balloons.

A Lady on a Bike Just Flew By

I'm not one to post "what happened today" kinda posts, but I have to mention to someone that there are serious winds whipping outside. I mean apocalyptic howling coyote kinda winds. The kind that make me wonder what the home insurance policy really says in it's "tornado" clause.

It reminds me of the two $2 kites we lost this weekend - half the "industrial grade" plastic ripped right off. Well, that's what I get for buying "hobby grade" kites instead of "toys" (this inside joke brought to you by Asshole Hobbies - "Asshole Hobbies: we take our toys waaay too seriously").

That fuzzy speck you see dead center, above the horizon (just below a cloud transition) is my kite after it was "liberated" by the wind. For sale: 200' of string, lightly used, 87 cents, OBO...

Waiting for My Buddy to Come Back

I was climbing into my car from one of my favorite places - the grocery store - when I looked over to see this pup in the back seat of the next car. He looked sweet, so I tried to say hi... but he didn't look at me. He kept staring at the front door of the store. He was waiting for his owner to come back... with unwavering patience. This is why we love our pets. You don't have to do a certain thing. You don't have to be a certain way. They just love having you around.

Following Directions

About Time for a URL

Alright, another public service announcement for you (two in one day - you must be on the edge of your seats). Try something for me. It's a matter of trust. Click on this link

And (poof) you are right back here. See, would I lead you wrong? Well, not on links - I have a reputation to uphold. Or on food - I have good sources for that info. So, seeing as how this blog means a lot to me, I thought I'd finally take the plunge and buy the domain. So when you tell all your friends about this oasis of mundane humor, you can simply say "frostymoments.com"... I mean why are the Blogger blogs at "blogspot.com" anyway... and when will it become frostymoments.google.com? Any which way, now I'm prepared.

Also, I know this site is going to explode into a national phenomenon any second, and I don't want to have to buy my own name from some cyber-squatter for $1.4 million.

Yep. It'll be taking off aaaany second.

Anyone know a good solitaire game?

Time Travel Warning

Now I am dedicated to both daily(ish) posts and quality entertainment. To this end I have conquered time travel to go back and change some posts. I wanted to mention it just in case you missed something I modified in the last week or so. Oh, and you never know when someone is going to go and leave a comment. Or I comment on a comment. Or they comment on my commenting on... well, you get the idea.

Party Stix

Need I say more?

Probably not, because you know me. But let's take the package one line at a time.

Party Stix. That sums up the euphemism right there. The title is what caught my eye in the first place.

The photo. If I mention "reach around", how many readers will I lose? Well, most of you are close friends anyway and know I'm willing to cross the line in the name of humor. Besides, I'll gain 10 times what I lose because of a bump up in search engine rankings ;)

"The Pretzel Men". Well that doesn't put the picture in a better light. I mean, that tag-line and those outfits just scream "Cirque du Soleil porno".

Pretzels. Yeah right, the pretzels I know are tied in neat little bows. The product these degenerates are offering are a thin, phallic shape and are proud to be "all natural".

It ends by pointing out that this product contains "sodium", "other nutrients", and stuff you should probably read up on.

Now I'm poking fun here, but do you really think that nobody in the long line of people who were involved in making this product said "hey, if you read this the wrong way..."? The investment bankers, the bakers, the marketing folks, the assembly-line workers, the packers, the shelf-stockers - not a one has snickered at the thought of people enjoying their "party sticks"?

Free-Association and Pinky Bets

So it all starts innocently enough: a beer-fueled free association session of movie trivia. It began when my friend noted that William Shatner (Ok, juvenile moment - I had to look up his name because I couldn't believe I never noticed the "shat" in his last name) was too old to be "doing that role" on that commercial where they take original movie footage and insert a new aside plugging a product. Is it insurance... I forget. Memorable commercials whose product you forget is a topic for another day. Britney Spears did one. "Mini-me" did one...

So I reply to my afore-mentioned friend "hey, he hasn't aged that bad - not like Chevy Chase in that grocery store slap-stick commercial" - again, what was that commercial for? Anyway, in that commercial he looks like his make-up was done by a funeral home. BTW, I now happen to know a funeral home chain owner)

My friend responds with: "You know who aged really poorly - that guy from 48 Hours."
"Ah, that guy that plays the cop?"
"Yeah!"
"What's his name... oh, Jack Bower."
"No, that's Kiefer Sutherland - this guy played a cop with Eddie Murphy."
"Hmmm..."
"Yeah, he was also on Night Court."

Now let me take an aside to note that I swear he mentioned Night Court. This led me to think he was talking about Harry Anderson. But alas, it wasn't Harry Anderson that I was picturing - it was Judge Reinhold... who looks like Anderson and got stuck in my head because he played a farcical judge in 'Clerks: the Animated Series'.

I'm sure you are curious so let me head you off - I rented Clerks the cartoon thinking it was just "Clerks" the original (which I'd never seen) - the original turns out to be harder to find than say 'Apocalypse Now: Redux'. It is also a movie that is a serious let-down after a lifetime of mournful "you must have crawled from under a large boulder if you haven't seen Clerks" looks. Hey you smug bastards, I feel the same way when you haven't seen 2001. At this juncture I thought I would have a good tie-in, but 'Apocalypse' was directed by Coppola and '2001' was from Kubrick (the alliteration threw me). You want to know my Clerks ignorance? I had no idea it was in black and white. Let me get you back on track with my flashback - Eddie Murphy was in both '48 Hours' and 'Beverly Hills Cop' (48 had 1 sequel, Beverly Hills had 2). They also both feature cops that are "black and white"... eh? see that tie in? eh? Who's the master of free-association now?! And this is exactly how those conspiracy theory chain e-mails get started...

Get on with it! (big crowd)

And I am also a fan of The Holy Grail - the funny one, not that other one that led to the crusades. BTW, there is no mention of the grail in the Bible. True followers prickle at the confusion - they point out that the grail myth is a completely different work of fiction. So back to our story...

My friend was trying to remember Nick Nolte - and he had a point about him aging poorly... I mean, look at those pictures. Other than one shot where he looks a little like Kenny Rogers, he's had a rough lot in life (I've always wondered if the bible was the inspiration to that saying).

If you've stuck with me this long you are either really interested in hearing about that bet, or you completely forgot about it and are just waiting for the funny part. Well, this is it - like life, it is all the funny part... so enjoy it as it happens because there is no punch-line. Except for death. Now that's funny.

All I am trying to do is establish a precedence for what happened next. This is where the story begins for most normal people. My friend, don't-refer-to-me-by-my-haircolor-Laura, and I are talking and somehow got on the topic of being prepared. I forget who quipped about 'The Princess Bride' first, but there was mention of inventorying a wheelbarrow and "have fun storming the castle". If you don't know what I'm talking about, I'm giving you the "you live under a rock" stare right now. After establishing between us that it was Billy Crystal who played Miracle Max ("you know, the guy from City Slickers") I produced the trigger "that girl from Taxi" and she amazingly produced Carol Kane playing Max's wife.

After a pause (and a swig of Guinness - "2 for 1 'till midnight") I wondered out loud - what was the robe that they had in Princess Bride. "You know, the one Andre the Giant had"... and I proceed to butcher an attempt at the pertinent lines from the script. This causes a cloud of thought to descend on her face. We brainstorm to a chorus of "oooh, ooh" and "gawd, I know this".

We poll our friends. We query strangers at the bar. I unsuccessfully attempt to IM Google for the answer. I text a friend who is as weird as I am about looking up questions online. He must have been passed out from Molson XXX or at the laundromat because he didn't reply. Finally, I come up with "cloak". Yes! It is a cloak - but what kind of cloak? I offer up "Chaos Cloak" or possibly "Armageddon Cloak". Laura disagrees on both counts.

The more I say it, the more "Chaos Cloak" rolls off the tongue. She is doubtful, but offers no better answer. After much vexed thought our beer-brewing friend steps in and offers to call his trivia Googling friend. While he is brokering the question Laura and I make the pact. Out come the pinkies - on my end I bet "Chaos Cloak" on hers "anything else". The stakes? A post on our respective blogs, announcing to the world who was right. We clench digits and the bet is sealed!

Now don't jump to conclusions dear reader - you have come too far for me to casually give away the ending. Just because of the bet's nature, my making this post doesn't mean that I necessarily lost the bet. I could be bragging in an extended manner about her failure and my superior trivial knowledge - "gloating" as you will.

Let me take this opportunity to mention her blog Cybermenology - a lovely stop in cyberspace, but I am disdainful at her posting frequency. She's obviously too caught up in hard copy reading (they still print books?)... though I do admire her post lengths, something that I have unintentionally mimicked in this post. It is worth a visit for the icons alone ("oh Ani UR so emo").

So the trivia maven on the phone informed us that it was actually the "holocaust cloak" (don't worry about the off-color reference, the screenplay is by William Goldman). Give me some credit, "holocaust" is squarely in the middle of the lexical continuum between "chaos" and "Armageddon". Oh, was I supposed to lead up to telling you the answer? Maybe there is a punchline after all... but the joke is on you. Yes, that was the life metaphor I was looking for. I mean really, what did you expect - she pulled out Carol Kane from the top of her head. Well, that and the fact that I bet my answer against "everything else". You should have know the answer earlier... I'm not the gloating type.

I guess the moral of the whole story is... well, #1 never to gamble with high stakes. And #2, the human mind is a giant "pattern matching machine". We are damn good at seeing connections and recognizing what we are looking for - even when our brain is hazed by cheap Jameson shots. But remember, sometimes our faculties fail us - so you should always remember lesson #1 ;)

BTW, Mini-Me was played by Verne Troyer, and unless this bio page is wrong, his birthday is 1/1/69. What are the odds - this being a New-Years post? I think I'll start a chain email about it.

Useful Pets 2

The ASPCA also warns that using your cat as a cup holder may lead to unamused looks.

Calves Liver

Sure, I should have expected interesting things on the menu from a diner with offensive railings and exclusively illuminated by pink lights - but what's this?

Between the "ham with fruit sauce" and "salmon patties" we have: "sauteed milk fed calves liver". Now let me put aside their grammatical issue for a moment. I ask myself several things. What would a calf be eating other than milk? Does this mean all the other calves whose livers I have eaten may have been raised on a diet of cold pizza and fast food? Pondering oddness of this culture-shock moment was almost as amusing as earnestly trying to convince our friend at the table that some cruel non-free-range calf farms have bred long-haired cattle that they velcro to the walls for their entire life.

On second thought, maybe this is a subtle way of telling the consumer "you are guaranteed not to get Mad Cow Disease by eating this". Ah yes, that lovely scare we got because the brain matter of cows was being fed to other cows. As one comedian said "this is something we have to be told is a bad idea"?! Perhaps the menu should have more clearly stated "sauteed liver from a non-zombie cow". Interestingly they specify that the animal is young (calf), but do not nail down the species (is this whale liver?)...