Only suicide bomber you ever want to meet. Ladies and Gentlemen: A Kamikaze!

This supremely ironic New York Times headline from February 10^th reads like a ripe premise for a comedic bit. And in a sense it is a bit. It’s one of 3000 sad little bits that fell into my hands as a result of the explosion. They’re called smithereens, and like a dutiful sleuth I’ll attempt to piece this accident back together smithereen by smithereen to discover just how something so awful could go so right. In Iraq suicide bombers have become obscene background noise like rap music is in this country. What drives these suicide bombers? Where the Beach Boys once promised “♫Two girls for every boy♫,” the Taliban promise 77 virgins for every boy in the afterlife. With this sheer volume of women, one assumes there are also towelettes. 

What We Know so Far

We know the noble gas Xenon (Xe) is No. 54 on the Periodic Table of Elements. We also know Xenon is considered a “noble gas” due to its philanthropic work with underprivileged elements like Bismuth and Tin. Xenon is an odorless, colorless gas similar to Senator Harry Reid. But that bears little impact on today’s story and probably shouldn’t have even been included in this reconstruction. Read the rest of this entry »

If you want to read this story based on this boring-ass book cover that’s your business. I just write the stuff.

Upon authoring a major book, it is always appropriate to thank the people instrumental in its publication. This is more commonly referred to as the Acknowledgement section of a book and is invariably appended to its end, just prior to the Index. The acknowledgement is where the author usually thanks his saintly mother for the use of her loins in birthing him and possibly his graduate research assistant for something very similar. Now I’ve yet to write my Magnum Opus or even my Mini Opus, but to stay ahead of the game I’ve decided to prepare my Acknowledgement section in advance so that when it comes time to write the book I won’t procrastinate with the excuse; “Well I’ve got this great idea all laid out, but I just can’t bring myself to write the stupid Acknowledgement.” Therefore it is with the utmost gratitude and humility I present:

Acknowledgements

I would be remiss if I didn’t express my profound gratitude to myself for my unique connection to the All-Being through whose grace I’ve been privy to things civilians could never access. Through the intercession of our Lord I’ve been able to produce such a magnificent work. I thank Him for recognizing my brilliance. Being a chosen one was not my idea. Really, I had no choice in the matter. But since its incumbent upon me to appear grateful and to give the reader a sense of the book’s gravity by referring to a vast network of unseen assistants supporting the effort, I should probably pretend to give credit where credit isn’t due. Read the rest of this entry »

The Winter Olympics never disappoint me because I don’t watch them.

The Winter Olympics are to the Summer Olympics as Arena Football is to the NFL. And while I hope everyone enjoys the Winter Olympics, I’m going to pay about as much attention to them as I do to the San Jose SaberCats. The XXII Winter Olympics are being held in a place called Sochi. Sochi is a popular Russian resort town (pop. 343,000) on the Black Sea. But to me Sochi will always be the cute little nickname I used to call my first girlfriend. It’s remarkable to me there’s such interest in the Winter Olympics considering the entire wintry spectacle is based on nothing more than sliding. Sliding around on some kind of frozen water.  

In actuality there are really just two events – sliding on skis and sliding on skates. And if you think about it, there’s really just one event because skates are just very small skis used for sliding. And somehow from this singular principle of controlled sliding the Olympic Committee has concocted 88 distinct events all involving sliding around on solid H2O. And they’re even awarding medals depending on how fast, accurately or artistically you can control your sliding. Countries take this very seriously and spend a lot of money sending their best sliders to the Games.   Read the rest of this entry »

The King of Late Night catalyzes a revelatory moment…or words to that effect.

In 1976, at the tender and impressionable age of 15, I experienced a life changing event that has informed my behavior ever since. What made this event all the more remarkable is that it took place entirely above the waist. As with most revelations it presented itself in a most epiphanic fashion. And if you’re looking for a heartfelt memoir that has the word “epiphanic” in it…this is it. Allow me to explain. I never thought there was a chance in hell I’d ever attend a live taping of The Tonight Show starring my comedic idol Johnny Carson. No roads led there. It wasn’t even on my bucket list because, back then, I didn’t know what a “bucket list” was. Seeing The Tonight Show in person seemed well beyond the realm of possibility – like a Pope saying he’s fallible. Actually I think Pope Francis recently said as much. Anyway, I don’t mean to undercut my own argument that The Tonight Show and I weren’t even in the same universe; because in 1976 we weren’t. However, as events would later confirm, not only were we in the same universe, we would soon be in the same studio. Read the rest of this entry »

The coolest, smartest and handsomest guy in the room: Col. Robert Hogan US Air Corps.

If I was dying and the Make-A-Wish Foundation could grant me one request, it would be to enter into the idealized world of TV’s Hogan’s Heroes featuring Colonel Robert Hogan and his intrepid band of brothers. Truth is however, I’m not dying (at least not ahead of schedule) and yet I still want to go there. Forget Tomorrowland and Pirates of the Caribbean, couldn’t Disney create a HoganWorld where adolescent adults like myself could revel in a fantasy realm of cunning espionage, brotherly camaraderie and busty blondes working for The Underground? “Goldilocks this is Papa Bear, come in Goldilocks.” A place where never is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day. C’mon Disney you can build it. Please Walt. Pretty please. Forget about Saving Mr. Banks, how about Saving Mr. Hardiman? Read the rest of this entry »

Jim Crow laws return. Here we see prongs receiving separate but unequal accommodations.

If you’re like me, (and I assume you’re not) then when you plug an electrical cord into an outlet, you invariably misalign the prongs at least 80% of the time so you have to flip them over and plug it in the other way. This bitter harvest of life will not stand. We all know famine and genocide are awful, but this…this is intolerable. That stupid fat prong that has done nothing to help mankind except preventing one little old lady from Pasadena getting shocked when she knocked her denture cup all over her Craftmatic bed. I would never have agreed to the use of electricity if I knew I’d have to contend with this thick pronged abomination. And since no one asked me, and electricity is everywhere, it makes my hypocrisy that much easier to ignore.

Any of this sound familiar? It shouldn’t. I just made it all up. You are the first one to lay eyes on it and that makes you special (pronounce special as spatial). It’s fun. Go ahead try it. Say out loud, “That makes you spatial.” Read the rest of this entry »

Twitter’s Proto-Tweet machine created in the Twitter Research Labs in September of 2002. Now housed in the Museum of Silicon Valley Relics.

Twitter Central

Nothing but tweets. This network features all 140 characters available in the Twittersphere. Twitter Central salutes the character Tweety Bird who’s been tweeting long before it was even invented. Other twitter characters range from sympathetic antiheroes like Don Vito Corleone to repugnant antagonists like Voldemort. All these characters are just like the ones in your real life. Some characters tweet you well, others tweet you like hell. And when I say real life I’m referring to the life you appear to be living. The one that makes you angry after you’re 3 miles away from the MacDonald’s drive thru only to discover your cheeseburger, fries and a Coke, is really a Filet-O-Fish, onion rings and a Mr. Pibb.      I’m not lovin’ it! Read the rest of this entry »

“Happy to have made my acquaintance and so will you.”

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has awarded a special Oscar to dogs for their convincing portrayal of man’s best friend. Other creatures in the Animal Kingdom felt slighted by their exclusion, but admitted, “We can’t compete with those lovable brownnosers. They just completely rollover for humans. Literally. And once you start rubbing their belly and they begin that cutesy spastic leg kick….we’re toast. It’s no wonder they get all the chew toys they want. Like they need any more. As it is now the males carry around their favorite chew toy with them full time .” Read the rest of this entry »

Our 19th President is said to be related to all the bearded Red Sox except Ortiz. 

“Dad?”

Boston MA – Seven teammates on the World Series champion Boston Red Sox are believed to be descendants of former President Rutherford B Hayes. The connection was discovered quite by accident when a genealogist at Ancestry.com saw an eerie similarity in their facial hair. After doing some research that can best be described as superficial, genealogist Kenneth Conigliaro explained, “At first I thought they’d descended from the Smith Brothers Cough Drops family, but on closer examination I detected a genetic similarity common to the facial hair of all 7 and sure enough all beards pointed to Rutherford B Hayes.”

When asked about slugger David Ortiz, Mr. Conigliaro offered; “Big Papi is from Santo Domingo and is not at all related to President Hayes. Genetic markers indicate he’s related to Nixon who spent time there in the early 60’s when he was having a personality installed as he readied himself for the ’68 campaign.” To buttress his evidence Mr. Conigliaro noted that Mr. Ortiz has a cat named Agnew. In tracing the relatives of President Hayes, Conigliaro believes Rutherford B Hayes is related to both Susan B Anthony and Johnny B Goode – by middle initial. After stating he hopes the Red Sox win the Super Bowl next year too, Mr. Conigliaro was led away by a very nice man holding a butterfly net.

In the thrilling celebratory moments after the last strike, David Ortiz was asked what he was going to do now that he was World Series MVP. He excitedly bellowed, “I’m going to that restaurant in the Bronx where Michael Corleone killed Sollazzo. I hear they’ve got the best veal in the city.”