BREAKING News: Cowsills Say Moon Landing was Faked

“Just imagine, without us there would’ve been no Partridge Family.”

Breaking their silence after spending over half a century deciding when was the right time to “go public” with their bombshell, the Cowsills decided now is the ime and have issued a coordinated statement splashed across all their social media platforms (AOL, Yammer, and MySpace) declaring: “The Cowsills firmly believe the moon landing was faked. Not all of them, just the second one.”

 

Drummer Bob Cowsill went on to explain why the band waited so long to detonate their lunar bombshell, “We didn’t want our public stance to interfere with our bookings. And since we haven’t had any since 1983, we felt that now was a good time.” Bob then further explained the essence of the statement by breaking into the band’s 1967 signature hit The Rain, the Park & Other Things: “♫And I knew. I knew, I knew, I knew, There wasn’t a moon landing, landing, landing ♫.  

 

This is Us.

Of the three remaining Cowsill members (Bob, Susan and Paul) only 2 of them actually believe the moon landing was a hoax. Cute little Susan Cowsill (now 60) is the lone holdout. She believes Apollo 12 did land someplace besides earth, just not on the moon. In a prepared statement she said: “Now I’m no astronomer, but the moon is a fickle thing. Heck sometimes you look up and it’s not even there. So how could someone land on it if it’s missing?”

 

And in an unprepared statement Susan said: “These rehab centers really help. Especially after the 20th stay.”

Meanwhile, in another part of the pretend world we sometimes inhabit, Partridge Family spokesman and former manager Reuben Kincaid referred all questions on the Cowsills’ statement to Partridge Family mother hen Shirley Jones who said, ♫C’mon get happy.♫

What’s next in the realm of eccentric announcements? Loretta Lynn claiming Dolly Parton wears a wig.  

 

Cowsills Proclamation Moves the Needle for Moon Landing Conspiracists.

There are a still a few Cowsill devotees in bomb shelters who have sent word through their Ham Radios that they “Received the Cowsill message and will adjust their lives accordingly.” Vegetarian Cowsill devotees in bomb shelters have been communicated similar messages through their Tofu Radios which they say sound just like Ham Radios.

 

“This is huge,” said an operator with the handle XTC4U. “We’ve been waiting for the Cowsills to weigh in on this issue for decades. When they talk, we listen. This just confirms everything we believed about NASA’s great Hoax – not on the first moon landing, just the 2nd.” When reminded that the Cowsills were a family rock band from the 1960’s who haven’t had a hit on the charts since 1970, XTC4U removed his homemade aluminum hat and responded with, “And you’re point is? My God, they’re the Cowsills. The COWSILLS damn it! Can you not hear me? They made this announcement on MySpace for Christ’s sake and now it’s gone larval.”

 

Other Ancient Rock Stars Late to the Party with Their Own Pronouncements

  1. Predictably the remaining Monkees have come out against animal research on all remaining monkeys.
  2. The Captain and Tennille released a rambling Manifesto (is there any other kind) deploring Daylight Savings Time: “Darryl and I find the imposition of enforced Daylight Savings Time oppressive and a promotion of Fake Time.” What makes their pronouncement all the more demented is that the Captain and Tennille live in Arizona where Daylight Savings Time is outlawed. They say they’re doing it for all the unborn children who could conceivably be late or early to preschool depending on whether it’s spring forward or fall back.
  3. The Sex Pistols have come out in favor of allowing cars the option of turning not right on red, but left on red. They’re English so it’s really no big deal. They drive on the left side of the road anyway and they practice left on red.
  4. Lead singer Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane/Starship is calling for the abolishment of slavery. The NAACP reminded Ms. Slick that slavery was abolished in 1865 saying, “That’s not too slick Grace.” While other more charitable members thanked for her insights saying “That’s Amazing Grace. Just Amazing Grace.”
  5. Engelbert Humperdinck piggybacked or humperdincked (as piggybacking is referred to in England) on the whole “aging rock star pronouncement thing” and issued this peculiar statement, “I’d just like to say that although I’m not at all homophobic, I am uncomfortable being around people who are bilingual. In fact, I don’t even like flying on Aer Lingus. Please release me. Let me go!”

America Reacts Swiftly to the Cowsill Bombshell: “Ummm…What the hell’s a Cowsill?”

Calling this 50 years after-the-fact assessment from a long-forgotten band and “act of the utmost inconsequentiality,” America breathed a collective sigh of “We’d be more dismissive if this pronouncement thing even registered with us. It does not. This will never be one of those ‘do you remember where you were moments’ when the Cowsills announced they thought the moon landing was faked. What we need is less Cowsill and more cowbell.”

Portals to a Parallel Universe: A Tale of Superb Peculiarities

A Lot to Unpack Here. Let’s Get Started.

How did I not see this? Standing right in front of me. Speaking words of wisdom. Let it Be. 

I’m always amazed when a paradigm-shattering event of monumental significance detonates in our midst, and then is promptly scrubbed from memory once the next day’s news cycle begins. I’m referring, of course, to the recent discovery of an interdimensional portal to a parallel universe. How is it that such a colossal spiritual windfall seems to have gone almost unnoticed? Thankfully both the dust and the amnesia associated with this monumental explosion has begun to vanish and it’s forcing people to reassess deeply held beliefs in fields ranging from the nature of God to the sport of competitive eating. So whether your interests lie in self-awareness or in self-engorgement, this revelatory portal has something to offer everyone.   

 

The very first portal to these parallel universes was accidentally excavated by little Timmy Cratchit when the eager lad was digging at the bottom of a box of Froot Loops in hopes of grasping its buried prize – a miniature Batmobile. Instead of the Batmobile he found something that was well beyond his grasp. Well beyond anybody’s grasp for that matter. Neither Timmy nor his soon-to-be concerned parents expected the 6 year-old to stumble upon the Holy Grail of entryways: a welcoming portal to unspeakable profundity. Read the rest of this entry »

Evel Knevel: Reckless Daredevil or Closeted Vegan?

I’ve gotta believe he partied with Jerry Lee Lewis until Jerry said, “Enough. I can’t keep up with you.”

Answer: Reckless Daredevil of course.

Why anyone would suggest Evel Knevel secretly ate a plant-based diet is beyond me. Although since this suggestion came from me, how can it be beyond me? You think you’re puzzled, think how I feel. And furthermore, is this any way to begin an action-packed story about the daring exploits of Evel Knevel? Clearly I’ve got work to do. First I have to win you back, and secondly I’ve got to write an entertainingly white-knuckled story about Evel Knevel soaring above the earth, if only for a moment, while straddling a fulminating 50 horsepower engine between his legs in a dangerous yet delicate ballet of man and machine. So yeah, I get it. This story would be a whole lot better if it didn’t include my inner dialogue.

 

But the fact that I meander, digress and can’t seem to get out of my own way says more about the author of this story (me) than any of Mr. Knevel’s audacious feats. Sometimes I don’t know what I like more: Evel Knevel or the idea of Evel Knevel. At this point however, I believe the writer of this piece (again, that’s me) does a great disservice to the King of Motorcycle Jumping by continually inserting himself into a story that’s supposed to be about Evel Knevel. So I protest my own presence here (man vs. himself?) and will try to vector hard towards reigning in my ego and dedicating what’s left of this piece to a celebration of Evel’s daring motorcycle jumps – spectacular jumps in which the King shattered numerous records as well as numerous bones. Read the rest of this entry »

“Oh, We’ve Got Your Number Alright”

Just some of the faceless masses toiling at telemarketing call centers. Why not join us and lose your humanity too?

Telemarketers aren’t born. They’re made. But before their unwelcomed intrusions are visited upon our ears, these operators of a lesser God must first be identified and then guided into a hellish life of relentless robocalling. How hellish? Well, the CDC (Center for Disease Control) estimates that 40% of telemarketers have been infected with ATDs (Aurally Transmitted Diseases). ATDs are spread through the unhygienic practice of indiscriminate headset sharing – the predictable result of too few headsets for too many heads. This careless sharing of bodily ear wax, in which the gooey stuff is freely exchanged through unclean earpieces, has forced the CDC to mandate warning signs be posted in telemarketing bathrooms reading: “All Employees Must Wash Ears.” Even with the CDC’s hygienic guidelines, telemarketers continue to contract some very eerie diseases such as Earpes, Syphilears and Mononearcleosis. In some extreme cases, Vegan telemarketers who’ve share headsets with multiple partners, have displayed symptoms of Cauliflower Ear.   Read the rest of this entry »

On Taking Granite for Granted – Stone Cold Stupid

I would imagine that in God’s eyes we’re a lot like dogs: noble and companionable, but let’s face it – cosmically speaking we’re still drinking from the toilet bowl. My particular weakness is my singular inability to look at a buffed granite countertop and simply say, “I appreciate your bright and shiny stoniness.” Instead I become verbose and overly celebratory in my praise of granite.

 

“Don’t take me for granite!”

I’m reasonably intelligent (I’ve never owned a pet rock), but I’m unable to feel just a simple appreciation and normal regard for granite. I fuss over, and am awed by granite. My point is, for whatever reason, I cannot take granite for granted. I’ll grant you taking granite for granted rarely impacts my everyday life and thankfully was not part of my mortgage application – “Mr. Hardiman in the essay portion of our application you seem to imply that you are unable to take granite for granted. I’m afraid your lack of normalcy in the realm of granite appreciation is both unnatural and, in this case, disqualifying. We cannot in good conscience lend money to someone as dumb as a rock.”

 

And the bank would be justified in my exclusion because it’s not just granite countertops I cannot take for granted, but also granite rock formations. I admit I’m so awed by granite that I’ve recently moved to New Hampshire for no other reason than to be in the Granite state.

Well so what. Maybe for you it’s Dancing with the Stars or that caramelized crusty corner of homemade macaroni & cheese that you cannot take for granted, but for me it’s granite. And I’m not alone either. As Abraham Lincoln said about his favorite Civil War general: “I’ll grant you Grant doesn’t take granite for granted even though I hear Stonewall Jackson does.”

***I Knew I Should’ve Kept This as Part of My Inner Dialogue***

However, this is the kind of obscure minutia that haunts me:

 

I worry that if I ever met Dick Cavett, he’d be able to sprinkle our conversation with more relevant Norma Desmond quotes from “Sunset Boulevard” than I ever could.

 

An unreasonable fear? Maybe.

 

My condition has been diagnosed as Normaquotaphobia and I believe I’m its only sufferer. There’s a vaccine for it, but the side effect is it makes you think like Jenny McCarthy.

 

In any event, I try to remain a Big Picture guy. After all, “I am big. It’s the pictures that got small.”

 

And finally, “Tell Mr. Toothpaste, I’m ready for my Close-Up.”

 

We now return you to your regularly scheduled life already in progress.

Well These Won’t Be Easy on the Brain

  1. My new book “Ventriloquism for Dummies” just arrived. For some reason I can’t read it without moving my lips.
  2. God’s majesty is ineffable…so are women wearing chastity belts.
  3. It was just a prank when Debra Messing said her mother, Mrs. Messing went missing. Messing was just messing with us.
  4. He exercised his Free Will. He had no choice.
  5. He drank the prune juice with “aplomb.” He had no choice.
  6. He was allowed only to pick between Prime Beef or Select Beef. They had no Choice.
  7. There is no #7. I had no choice.
  8. Try not to get into acute depression, because there’s nothing cute about depression.
  9. A prisoner on Death Row had the foresight to order a 112 ft. long submarine sandwich for his last meal. The warden complied. The inmate lived for another 14 days while slowly eating the lengthy sandwich, but died of food poisoning on the 15th day.  

    Submarine Sandwich Forever 

 

Trove of Long Lost Detective Stories Discovered

  1. Magnifycent!

    Caitlyn Jenner and the Case of the Very Mistaken Identity

  2. Sherlock Holmes is hopelessly constipated in this predictably slow-moving case entitled “No Sh*t Sherlock.” The author, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, has our quirky genius, Sherlock Holmes, suffering heroically from constipation. And although our brave Sherlock exudes great fortitude, that’s about all he manages to exude for a week. The ordeal ends when he accidentally sees Queen Victoria naked and it scares the sh*t out of him.
  3. Miss Marple’s “April Papal PayPal Caper” – Spring is in the air and the Vatican is awash in intrigue when the Pope is tricked into sending money to a needy Nigerian prince whose request for funds seemed perfectly legitimate – at least initially. The church goes to court for redress, but the case is thrown out on the grounds it’s just too damn hard to pronounce (April Papal PayPal Caper).
  4. Redrum, She Wrote – Cabot Cove’s Jessica Fletcher is back, and backwards this time in “Redrum, She Wrote.” In this ass backwards episode, Jessica reverses the detective process and solves a murder before it even happens. Ironically, the perpetrator, a hilarious comedian, is found guilty of the crime even though he hasn’t killed anyone yet. It seems the prosecution got him on a technicality when they duped the arrogant comedian into bragging “I murdered’em last night” while performing onstage.
  5. Perry Mason and the Case of the Shy Bladder – When his wife shows up missing, the District Attorney warns the husband, “Urine trouble.” But the husband turns the tables on the DA by asking one simple question: “Oh really Mr. District Attorney. Tell me then, how can one be ‘missing’ when they ‘show-up’?” On the basis of this single unanswerable question he’s released on his own recognizance. We still wonder how his wife was hiding her shy bladder problem. Depends…on what she was wearing. In any event, critics everywhere agreed – the case was an absolute pisser.
  6. Charlie Chan and the Chocolate Factory in “The Case of No Tickee*, No Entry.” – Well, how did little Willy Lo Mein gain entrance to the fabulous chocolate factory without the Golden Tickee? I mean Willy Lo Mein was liked, but not well liked. *Note: This story was written in 1934 so using the word “tickee” was not racial stereotyping. I mean it was racial stereotyping, but no one cared.
  7. “Hairdresser Hairassment?” Was it a case of non-consensual hair-sniffing in this Vidal Sassoon story of unwelcomed inhaling? Opening sentence reads: “Gee lady, your hair smells terrific, and I bet the hair on your head smells good too.”
  8. From the creators of Wil & Grace comes a mystery so stupid you’ll drool. The plot involves the kidnapping of Debra Messing’s mother in a drama named: “Debra Messing’s Mom, Mrs. Michelle Messing, is Missing.” Actually this isn’t true, I’m just messing with you.
  9. In a similar vein, a recently discovered short story by Yogi Berra was entitled: “Baseball Missing. Foul Play Suspected.”
  10. And in another mystery that should’ve stayed undiscovered, Frank Perdue’s unpublished story: “Chicken Missing. Fowl play suspected.”
  11. “Nancy Drew and the Case of the Smoked Salmon” – A serial murderer leaves his calling card, a smoked salmon at his murder scene. Law enforcement is perplexed because they didn’t think you could smoke a salmon, let alone get it lit.
  12. Agatha Christie served-up a delicately layered mystery about a power hungry family titled “A Sinful Helping of Filial Piety” – The story has many flavors to it including Apple and Blueberry Piety.
  13. “Triple Indemnity” – Identical to the classic “Double Indemnity” in every way except the indemnifications are adjusted for inflation. Ho-hum. This is an updated version only a bean counter could love.
  14. A Charlie Chan Mystery: “General Tsao Chicken is Missing…from the Menu.” When Chan investigates the good general’s disappearance, he solves the case by discovering Tsao was demoted to Colonel, and that diners were only willing to eat colonels if they were corn.
  15. Dashiell Hammett’s unpublished and impolitic tale of a mysterious speech impairment entitled: “Tham Thpade Tholves the Mythtery of Bogie’s Lisp.” It’s thuch a thilly thtory. Theriously.
  16. A Dunkin’ Donut Who-Done-It. These kind of mysteries are referred to in literary detective parlance, not as a whodunit, but as a whodonut. This newly discovered story asks the titled question – “Who Drowned Cinnamon Cruller?” Cinnamon had always been a little twisted. After all, she descended from a long line of cinnamon twists. But surely the young and curvy Cinnamon deserved a better fate then turning up half-eaten and coffee-logged on a crumby old plate, where her once beautifully braided body was now distorted and savagely illuminated by the eerie intermittent glow of Dunkin’ Donut’s strobing neon light. She was so young, having only been fried that morning, and now here she was, bloated, bitten and cast aside like a pellet from an owl’s gizzard. Ms. Cruller held such promise. Just 20 minutes ago she sat perky, puffy and wonderfully glazed in the incubating display case, hoping some nice family would make her the pick of the litter and take her home in a little pink box like a rescue donut. But no. It was not to be as ghoulish and vulgar things would be perpetrated against her deliciously flaky body. Who would do such an obscene thing to such a delicate and promising piece of pastry? Whodonut? A nearby cup of Joe was implicated in the drowning, but he had no motive. He was just unlucky enough to be a black…cup of Joe. The real culprit, we discover, was a regular customer named Henry Givins who explained, “It’s no big deal. I do this 3-4 times a week. I like dunking my crullers. Devouring a freshly made donut is not an issue for me because I don’t personify donuts like you all do. Y’know the song ‘These Boots are Made for Walkin?’ Well the same holds true for donuts, except these donuts are made for eating. And that’s just what I’ll do. My conscience is clear on the matter although sometimes my eyes glaze over.” Clearly Henry Givins had no misgivins about his actions. Critics have called this long lost story: The apotheosis of Gut Bomb Noir cinema at its Edward Hopper Nighthawks
  17. Colombo and the Case of “No More Things” – Astonishingly Peter Falk’s rumpled character solves a case without once having to resort to saying, “Aaaah, just one more thing sir.”
  18. Breakfast on the Orient Express – Murder is out and foodies are in, in this case of the missing 3-minute egg that’s solved in 2 minutes when Detective Poirot cracks both the case and the egg.
  19. Edgar Alan Poe’s “The Murders at the Rue Loony Bin”: A jealous lover kills 3 of his mistresses 6 personalities. It gets complicated when the 3 that survive admit they are still in love with the murderer and refuse to press charges. In a kangaroo court held in Australia, her defense attorney asks the charges be reduced from a single count of murder in the 1st, to a ½ count of murder in the 3rd since only 3 of the 6 personalities died. The judge throws out the case stating, “I was told there wouldn’t be math.”
  20. “Joe Mannix and the 35th Time He Gets Shot in the Same Spot of the Same Arm While Pursuing Washed-up Actors Whose Agents Can Only Get Them Special-Guest-Crook Appearances on TV Shows.” This long-winded title presents yet another case whereby good ole Joe brings a bad guy to justice, while being shot in the same spot, of the same arm, once again, for the 35th time in only 66 episodes. That is one resilient arm. When Joe’s faithful secretary Peggy (played by the lovely Gail Fisher) expresses concern for her boss’s health, and her utter amazement at both the frequency and location of the wound, Mannix modestly brushes off the injury and responds, as he always did, “I’m OK Peggy. Yeah, he winged me, but he’ll do time.”  

Read the rest of this entry »

Ben & Jerry’s 31 Flavors of Christianity

  1. Half Baked ice cream meets half baked ideas for a wholesome experience. This is highly productive inefficiency!

    Chunky Catholic – It’s filled with tempting bananas, tantalizing walnuts and overwhelming chunks of guilt. Eating it is actually a confessable sin.

  2. Amish Barn Raisin’ – A very sober version of Rum Raisin
  3. Pralines ‘n Puritans – You can tell which are which by licking them
  4. Quakers ‘n Cream – Vastly superior to Quakers ‘n Oats
  5. Episcopal Popsicles – Ideal for the Frozen Chosen
  6. Black Walnut Ice Cream Matters – Always has
  7. Televangelist Dough – Oh they’re rollin’ in it.
  8. Amish Garcia – Get your pious Grateful Dead fix satisfied with a sober scoop of this clear-eyed version of Cherry Garcia
  9. Pentecostal Pecan – So good you won’t bother speaking in tongues; you’ll start licking in tongues.
  10. Rosicrucian Crunch – Mostly Boneless Ice Cream
  11. Rocky Road to Heaven – ♫You’re going to find your way to heaven is a rough and rocky road, if you don’t stop and smell the Rose-icrucians along the way♫
  12. Heathen Heath Bar Toffee – Popular with Atheists. It’s topped with a blast of blaspheme and tastes positively sacrilicious.
  13. Amish Cheesecake – I never thought the two could mix. Also comes with a racy calendar – if you’re into bonnets.
  14. Russian Orthodox ‘n Hydrox – A smash up of the Eastern Coptic Church and proto-Oreos. A precursor to Oreos ‘n Cream
  15. Branch Davidian w/Cashews, Walnuts, Pecans etc. – As you might expect this Branch Davidian sect is absolutely filled with all kinds of nuts
  16. I Can’t Believe It’s Not Ice Cream – A frozen confection for disbelieving atheists
  17. Double Dutch Reformed Church – This tasty little number is served in a crunchy waffle shoe
  18. Blended Mormon Clusters – Somehow manages to marry several individual flavors into one big happy family
  19. Creaminess Is Next to Godliness – A heavenly ice cream from God’s lips to your cone
  20. 21 Thru 32 Flavors are still in the experimental stage
  21. Jehovah’s Witness Protection Program
  22. Jehovah’s Moustache
  23. Jehovah Falls Down Goes Plop
  24. Seventh Day Adventist
  25. Third Trimester Adventist
  26. Second Semester Dentist
  27. Note: Sneaking this in to see who my friends really are, if you would please write the words “Dan is a Primate” on my wall and then post a picture of yourself with a multi-armed aquatic rescue animal on your page during an even-numbered minute with the comment, “I think Cephalopods have a swell head” then I’ll continue to wish you happy birthday when Facebook reminds me.
  28. Shakers-n-Quakers-n-Bears Oh My!
  29. The Mostly Reformed Church of Generally Unrepentant Moravians…and the women who love them.

Alright, 19 full-fledged flavors and 7 flavors in the formulation stage is probably enough ice cream for one sitting. If you can find more flavors, that will be a scoop.

 

New Housing Developments Address an Increasingly Fragmented Market

What’s in a name? Well, usually letters, arranged to motivate.

As the housing market continues to fragment into ever-narrower segments, the housing industry has responded with creative communities designed to address underserved markets. The following is a sample of these new communities reflecting the unique lifestyle of their target market:

  1. Habitat for Profanity – A sweat-equity community built for poor people who like to swear.
  2. Heaven – As you might expect, it’s a gated community. Background checks are mandatory and only those without sin are allowed to enter (entry also helped by knowing Felicity Huffman).
  3. Almost Heaven – West Virginia community popular with John Denver fans
  4. Uncommon Commons – An exceptionally ordinary development noted for its outrageous normality. If you’re especially mundane, have we got a home for you.
  5. Birch Crossing – Although built in a serenely sylvan setting, be advised that crossing that birch too often could get you birch-slapped
  6. The Necropolis at Forest Lawn – Available only to people 6 feet and under. This is a below-ground community for the permanently retired. Tagline: “Sorry I can’t come to the door right now. I’m buried.
  7. Bayou Perish – Louisiana version of The Necropolis. Due to the Mississippi flooding, it’s an above-ground community for the permanently retired. Available only to people 6 feet and over. Tagline: “Y’all do realize we’re still part of the United States?”
  8. Crestfallen Heights – As the contradictory name evidences, it’s very popular with the bipolar crowd
  9. Infarction Junction – A heartfelt community were homeowners are called patients and, just like their vascular system, are encouraged to circulate freely. Be forewarned, speeding hearts racing down the Main Artery are not tolerated and are placed under cardiac arrest. Most homes are 4-chambered. You get the picture. Brochure promises “2 EMTs on every corner and a defibrillator in every garage.”
  10. My Happy Place – Finally you can go to your happy place. If you lived here you’d be smiling already. A giddy development where all meals are happy meals and all insulation is pink cotton candy. Many homes are made of gingerbread.
  11. The Barracks at Andersonville – Taking its cues from the Civil War prison, this lavish reimagining of a dismal POW camp is weirdly popular with guys who still watch Hogan’s Heroes…and the women who love them.
  12. Honey Bucket Meadows – An upscale mobile home park (if such a thing is even possible) with an occasional blue splash of elegance
  13. Iodine Estates at 3 Mile Island – The only development where both the homeowner and the home have a half-life. No need for a microwave. Just take your food out of the refrigerator and it will spontaneously warm. A healthy thyroid gland is a must.
  14. Chair Noble – Not a housing development. I just wanted you to say “Chernobyl” without realizing it.
  15. Fallen Manors – A rude development recently zoned for spitting, jaywalking and graffiti.
  16. Isn’t it funny how we don’t really understand what we’re doing here and yet we carry on like we do? This is not a housing development, it’s just me making a mid-list observation as a humble acknowledgement of something much greater than our little ego selves. The doors of perception are open for business, now if we could just find the key. We now return to our analgesic entertainment already in progress…
  17. English Spellings at Ye Olde Apothecary’s Shoppe – Experience thatched roofs, warm beer and bubonic plague – and that’s just on Drury Lane! Move here and you’ll learn to set your watch just by glancing at Stonehenge.
  18. Bunny Hutch Corners – For the hare-raising experience of a lifetime
  19. The Sands at Iwo Jima – For the flag-raising experience of a lifetime
  20. Yeast of Eden – For the bread-raising experience of a lifetime
  21. Lazarus Estates – For the dead-raising experience of a lifetime
  22. Sugar Plantation at Chattel Village – For the cane-raising experience of a lifetime
  23. Adam & Eve’s Garden of Earthly Delights – For the Cain-raising experience of a lifetime
  24. Noah’s Park – For the rain-rising experience of a lifetime
  25. Echo Chambers at Walla Walla – Double your pleasure in Walla Walla. The town so great they named it twice. Partial list of homeowners: Yo Yo Ma, Honey Boo Boo, Richie Rich, JJ Abrams and Chi Chi Rodriguez
  26. Fresh Dressings at Wounded Knee – Not really a housing development, but I worked on this one too long to just delete it. Ummm, buy now and receive a free walker with the purchase of any teepee
  27. The Cribs at Interscope Ranch – Hip hop living was never so bulletproof. Free rap or scratch classes at the Dr. Dre Community Center.
  28. The Crabs at Mustang Ranch – Available in soft shell or STDs
  29. The Heights at Acrophobia – Each home features a 30-story atrium with loft bedrooms accessed by ladders. Only the Navajo or steeplejacks need apply.
  30. The Heights of Impropriety – OMG, voyeurs and exhibitionists living side by side. I mean it’s see and be seen in this fetishistic paradise. Weirdest VFR you’ll ever experience. Please note, during ground fog it’s IFR.
  31. Fresh Kills – An actual city and landfill in NY. I’m not making this up: Fresh Kills, Worst Name Ever