As the primaries heat up, I recommend subscribing to FactCheck.org to get the weekly dope on what these bastards are saying. If the First Amendment allows them to lie and libel each other, we need to be on top of the facts so that we don't get sucked down with their crap.
Oh my bad gods, I think I'm about to faint because I've used all my oxygen laughing.
Have a Very Merry, Bewildering Christmas!
I nearly peed myself over this eBay offer -- not just because it's amazingly well-written, but it's incredibly funny:
Drive Someone Insane with Postcards
When you care enough to send the very bewildering
You are bidding on a rare chance to traumatize a treasured friend or relative with baffling, mind-numbing, mystery correspondence from abroad.
Here is the arrangement:
I will be spending the Christmas holiday in Poland in a tiny village that has one church with no bell because angry Germans stole it. Aside from vodka, there is not a lot for me to do.
During the course of my holiday I will send three postcards to one person of your choosing.
These postcards will be rant-ravingly insane, yet they will be peppered with unmistakable personal details about the addressee. Details you will provide me.
The postcards will not be coherently signed, leaving your mark confused, guessing wildly, crying out in anguish.
"How do I know this person? And how does he know I had a ferret named Goliath?"
Your beloved friend or relative will try in vain to figure out who it is. Best of all, it can't possibly be you because you'll have the perfect alibi: you're not in Poland. You're home, wherever that is, doing whatever it is you do when not driving your friends loopy with international prankery.
Your target will rack their brains in the shower. At dinner. During long drives. At work. On the golf course.
"Who did I tell about the time I got fired by a note on my chair?" they'll ponder, "And where the hell is Szczeczinek?"
But wait, there's more.
To add to the sheer confusion and genuine discomfort, one missive will be on an original promotional postcard announcing the 1995 television premiere of Central Park West on CBS.
Another will be a postcard celebrating Atlanta's disastrous hosting of the 1996 summer Olympic games.
Your mark will be at a complete loss, desperate for answers, debating contacting people he or she hasn't talked to in years.
"I know this will sound weird," they'll say, "but by any chance were you in Eastern Europe ranting about cantaloupe... twelve years ago... right before some show with Mariel Hemingway debuted?"
When you decide to end the torment is completely up to you. If you can, I recommend owning up on 1 April 2008 - giving you nearly half a year of joy and a George Clooney-esque level of prankage. If you can't hold it in that long, I totally understand.
The Seattle-based ad agency Creature gets major props for their viral campaign for MSN. This is some very funny shit. Check out their parody of a Fox News blowhard visiting a family to "expose" their bad decision to have a "stay-at-home server."
Visit the official website to see the other videos. I especially love the IT geek who blurts out "You can't domesticate a server!"
I just called all of my political representatives to tell them I support a media blackout of the identities of all future shooters in mass killings.
It won't solve the problem, but it will sure as hell help. How many times do we have to hear the litany of "I'm going to be famous!" before we get a fucking clue that fame is one of the motivators?
As for guns, we are beyond the point of utterly ludicrous, doncha think? We ought to be handling guns the way they do in France -- mental health registry, stringent licensing and sales regulations. Instead, far more innocent Americans are going to die every year.
Pre-order your copy of SINS OF THE SIRENS today from Dark Arts Books and get free shipping!
Join myself, Christa Faust and Loren Rhoads for a signing!
January 19th, 2008 2:00pm Dark Delicacies 4213 W. Burbank Blvd. Burbank, CA 91505 1-888-DARKDEL
If you've never been to Dark Delicacies, you're in for a major (trick or) treat.
I Am Maria's Underslept Alien Experiment
The master bathroom toilet overflowed in the middle of the night. The poor Frenchman was unable to summon me from where I slept in the other room, and I'm glad because I had fallen headlong into bed at just before 10pm.
Still, I woke up at 4:30am.
What the fuck is up with 4:30am?
I wake up at that time, give or take a couple of minutes, almost every goddamn morning, no matter what time I go to bed, no matter where I'm sleeping. I usually go back to sleep. Sometimes I don't.
"Under the Twilight, Rising" was inspired by this problem when I had it almost five years ago. I had a medical explanation back then for it, but now I think it's an alien experiment.
(I did not wake up at 4:30am in France. Not ever.)
Regardless, I'm pooped. I had to deal with the overflowed bathroom at 6:38am before I could pry my eyes halfway open. The landlord sent someone to take care of it who arrived around 10am, but I'm still running ragged.
I told The Frenchman that he simply has to stop banging the toilet with his crutch. I'm mean, huh?
The Frenchman had his knee surgery yesterday. I was a bit loopy, having gotten up at 4:45am to get ready for work and then take him to the hospital. I went to work after I dropped him off, and came back around 11:30am when the nurses called me. As we were waiting for them to officially discharge him, I marvelled at his gnarly black brace. I said, "Honey, you should tell people you were in a ski competition and that the tree won!"
He didn't think this was nearly as funny as I did. The nurses were easily amused, however. When the surgeon came by, The Frenchman said, "This is my girlfriend. She's a writer and very funny." The surgeon seemed to have his mechanics apron on and didn't notice anything other than the impressive apparatus. He went over all the exercises, the cooling machine that pumps ice water over his wounds, and the drugs. Woooo, drugs! When we got home, the moment I could, I collapsed in a heap.
I'm now learning how incredibly tiring it is to care for multiple people. I rushed around this morning, preparing his lunch and snacks for the day. I then ran to the supermarket for crushed ice so that he could run his cooling machine. I took care of Robie's food and water. I barely had time for a shower and to dress, much less all the other stuff I usually do. I got to work a half hour late.
Robie is going totally bonkers. We had to have "Kitten Visiting Hours" last night, as he's not allowed in the bedroom with The Frenchman. Poor little guy!
