FLORIDA NEWS UPDATE
Friends don't let friends drive with alligators.
(Thanks to Matt Patterson)
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Friends don't let friends drive with alligators.
(Thanks to Matt Patterson)
I'm at the Detroit airport, and a woman near me just told her friends: "I drew the line at Celebrity Mole Hawaii. I can only take so much."
I spent the night at a Holiday Inn in Lansing, Mich. I was in room 359. By sheer good fortune, room 363, two doors away, was the Hospitality Suite for some kind of gathering of Moose International, which is a fraternal organization dedicated -- as far as I can tell -- to staying up all night, drinking beer and shouting. I would be almost asleep at, say, 3 a.m., and a Moose would leave the hospitality suite, and he would pause directly outside my door and shout a clever remark back to his fellow Mooses and Moosettes, such as: "DON'T LET YOUR MEAT LOAF!!" You can imagine how hilarious everybody found this.
So today I'm going back to Miami, where it's quiet.
If you're a State Farm customer, and your car is struck by a nuclear weapon, you should tell your agent that it was, I don't know, squirrel damage.
It is very cold. But apparently people live here anyway.
How can we explain to people, especially people in airport waiting areas, that they don't have to raise their voices when they talk on their cell phones? Seriously, HOW CAN WE MAKE THEM UNDERSTAND THIS?? Take, for example, the guy sitting next to me this morning, whose name was Roger, and who was telling somebody on this phone that somebody named DeeDee had REALLY SCREWED UP HIS TRAVEL ARRANGEMENTS, REALLY SCREWED THEM UP, BUT HE WAS IN MIAMI NOW AND THE WEATHER WAS A LOT NICER HERE THAN IN DETROIT HA HA HA HA! BUT DEEDEE REALLY (CLONK)
In my imagination, I just hit Roger on the head with a baseball bat. But we can't do that for real, because (a) it would be wrong, and (b) you can't get a bat through security.
Probably the simplest, and safest, answer would be some kind of system involving highly trained snipers.
Mister Rogers has left the neighborhood.
Zora has confirmed to TV Guide Online (second item) that it is over between her and Evan. She did not specifically mention the horse, but Zora does not have to draw us a picture.
As a frequent user of Miami International Airport and Drug Smuggling Facility -- I am there right now, on my way to Detroit --I was thrilled to read in today's Miami Herald that planes could be threatened by vultures attracted by the airport's large jackrabbit population. I was even more thrilled to read that the solution being considered is to shoot the jackrabbits.
Maybe I'll just drive to Detroit.
These days your top stars such as Sean Combs do not go anywhere without their portable bunkers.
(Thans to Suzanne Levinson)
Some people will stoop to any despicable thing to get ratings.
Do not read this article. And if you do, do not allow the song "Who Let the Dogs Out" to gain a toehold in your brain.
(Thanks to Roger Abramson)
I have just received word that the wall clock link listed in the item below has been disabled because of "potential trademark and copyright issues." I am urging everyone to remain calm and not panic and purchase as much duct tape as humanly possible. Thank you.
I'll tell you why: Because this is the only country I know of where a person can be kicked off of "American Idol" for having once appeared on an Internet porn site, and a popular movement to reinstate that person will spring up and grow to the point where that person's face will appear on a bunch of merchandise, incuding this handsome wall clock.
The Giant Lava Lamp song is now available for download at the official site. It is a mellow and laid-back song, apparently created by people in a mellow and laid-back mood, if you know what I mean. Some key lyrical elements are:
I'm talkin' about the lava lamp
It's a sexy, sexy thang
We're gonna build a giant lava lamp
In Soap Lake, Washington, USA...
I am getting the munchies, here.
I have received an email from the Soap Lake, Wash., Giant Lava Lamp project responding to my email asking where the long-promised Lava Lamp Song is. The email says:
Good to hear from you! We are working on that as we speak and I am disappointed it has taken sooo long. Just a few more hours or short day or two! Thanks. Brent Blake
I thank Brent for his prompt response, and will keep you all posted on this as developments warrant. Meanwhile, here is a temporary Giant Lava Lamp Song to tide you over until the real one is ready:
There's a trip you must take
To a place called Soap Lake
There you'll find a lava lamp
That, sizewise, is the world champ
Without question the most moving part of last night's episode was when Evan and Zora revealed that the highight of their relationship to date was when they urinated together in the woods. That gave me a great idea for what to get these two crazy kids for a wedding gift.
Like millions of you, I have been regularly visiting the site for the giant lava lamp that is, when actually constructed, going to attract throngs of tourists to Soap Lake, Wash. And, like millions of you, I always check on the Lava Lamp Song link, only to be disappointed time and time again by the message that Lava Lamp Music is "Coming Soon." But when? Haven't we waited LONG ENOUGH? I think the time has come for millions of you to contact these people and send them the heartfelt message: WE WANT THE LAVA LAMP SONG!!
A lot of people (OK, two people) have urged me to post the link to the English-subtitled version of the Kikkoman commercial ("He came from the Planet of Soy"). So: here.
Do not ever say that Tonya is a looser.
How in the name of justice did they overlook this great young talent?
(Thanks to Amanda Boote)
When people ask me, "Dave, where can I find a good Japanese-language educational video about the dangers of trying to hit a melon with a stick while blindfolded after narrowly escaping from a shark?" I always direct them here.
(Thanks to Diane Duane)
I don't know how it ended, but when I fell asleep it was Nora Jones 48, Oakland 21.
I do know how it began: With Simon and Garfunkel, just two balding guys and one guitar, singing Sounds of Silence. They sounded great; maybe a little wavery, but, hey, it's been a while. While I was still enjoying that moment, out came a band that had many instruments, AND smoke, AND people coming down from the ceiling on ropes, AND a singer who had obviously put in many grueling hours thinking about her hair. I was prepared to dislike their music, but when they started playing, I realized that the song they had chosen was really, really ugly.
I know, I know. I'm old.
It is simply not possible to watch this too many times.
...of a site I am too classy to link to.
(Thanks to Nicole Raymond)
When people ask me, "Dave, are there any sites that are just too darned tasteless for you to link to?" I answer, "There sure are".
(Thanks to Kevin Breit)
I don't see how we can lose, not with this technology.
(Thanks to John Freisinger)
When people ask me, "Dave, how are the members of your band able to play onstage for nearly 50 whole minutes without taking a break?" l answer that it's our little secret.
The ladies' underpants have been removed from the Rock Bottom Remainders Fire in the Belly West Coast Tour website. Somebody connected with the event objected to the image of ladies' underpants appearing in connection with a charity that benefits children. Fine, I can accept this, but the underpants were replaced with: A CIGARETTE LIGHTER. Makes sense to me!
For the record, despite this change, the women in the band will, during our performances, be wearing women's underpants. So will Scott Turow, but that is confidential so don't tell anybody.
According to published reports, Zora was more attracted to the horse.
I look at this, and ask myself: Is there NOTHING left to believe in?
Like most of you, I have spent the better part of today reading and re-reading Ryan's third poem for Trista. It's a tough call, but if I had to pick the single most moving line, I'd go with the one from the second stanza, where Ryan reveals that Trista is:
Like sugar from the cane, directly through my veins.
I see nothing at all humorous about this.
I say it's time we Americans stopped childishly bashing our longtime allies, the French. We should focus on positive, intellectual pursuits.
Johnny Paycheck has cashed out.
At last, a simple explanation.
(Thanks to Claire Martin)
I'm a member of a rock band of authors, the Rock Bottom Remainders (motto: "We Play Music As Well As Metallica Writes Novels"). Once a year we go on tour to (a) raise money for a fine charity called "America Scores," and (b) make a lot of people bleed from their ears. This year in April we're doing our first West Coast Tour, the "Fire in the Belly" tour, which will take us to Seattle, San Francisco and Los Angeles. We will be joined by a Special Guest who can -- despite the threat that this poses to us, artistically -- actually play music. For information about the tour, and how to get tickets, and pictures of underwear, you can go here.
Last night, Trista picked Ryan, and he proposed, and Trista revealed that she does, indeed, have a forehead implant.
COMING NEXT WEEK: The Divorce
This should clear up everything.
There are people out there with a LOT of spare time.
When people ask me, "Dave, how can we know that there is a higher power?" I direct them here.
(Thanks to Ray Semiraglio)
Ask any woman: Nothing makes a man more attractive than a big old face tattoo.
This is just so thoughtful.
God says: "PUT DOWN THAT RING DING!"
(Thanks to Michael Wittie)
In case you missed it, here's a transcript of the climactic two-hour episode last night:
"I, uh, there's, uh, two things, uh…"
Commercial
"I thought, uh, we, uh, really, uh…"
Commercial
"Uh…"
Commercial
"Uh…"
Commercial
Commercial
Commercial
Commercial
Without question the oratorical highlight was when Evan, in a complete sentence, made the following statement to Zora, apparently to explain why he had selected her (I am not making this statement up):
"The horseback riding was God-given."
The Surprise Twist Ending That Will Have All America Talking was so shocking and unexpected that I can barely type the words: They got money. Yes! On a TV show!
Remember Richard? The guy who won the first Survivor? Well, it's only a matter of time before he is running the country.
I have a dream that a guy who designs popup ads is having a major colonoscopy, and the proctologist is saying, "It's the darnedest thing! Every time I snip a polyp, two more spring up in its place!"
Forget Saddam. We need to stop these people.
My guess is, while you're praying to this saint, you'll get cut off.
(Thanks to Ted Habte-Gabr, Field Coordinator for the Dave Barry for President campaign.)