Yeah, this was last minute...

Hope you're with friends and family and having a good time!

I've been going about this all wrong

Sometimes, the simplest solutions are the least obvious.  Whenever I experience a temperature change of 15 degrees or more, my nose runs.  I don't know why that is, it just is.  But now I've found the answer:

Another beard post.

Big day today.  My beard's ability to store food has officially exceeded my daily dietary requirements.

This is good news because in the impending apocalypse, I will be able to support my family.

The problem solver

One of the toughest things about switching to a new phone for my fiancée has been potentially losing some important data on her old phone.  Switching carriers makes it even more difficult since she can't just move stuff over to her sim card and keep it with her.  I'm inclined to make wild claims about things I have no real knowledge of.  In this instance, I decided that it must be possible to just move those items over to the mini SD card I put in her old phone awhile back and get them that way.  I'm not entirely sure why I thought that would work, but I did.  I seem to have run into some difficulties.  This is where I'm at right now:

This is my best idea so far.  I think I'm making some real progress.

SUCCESS!!

You might not know this, but I've been at war.  Things got ugly.  It was trench warfare at it's worst.  (I may have had to bring down an entire cellular network covering 2 square miles, allowing only emergency calls (the irony of which was claimed by the fact that those 2 square miles encompassed the campus of a hospital*))  But today, I claimed victory.  I have brought another member into the iPhone family!  This is how I celebrated:

Actually, I didn't really have to do that much.  When we walked into the store and we found out that there would be a 20% discount on our monthly plan because of where my Fiancée works and moving to a family plan in her name would save us $30/ month, plus give her a shinny new iPhone 3GS, the deal pretty much sold itself.  I had to lay a tremendous amount of groundwork of course.  Painfully searching out apps and games that I knew would appeal to her and letting her "discover" them on my iPhone.  But it has all been worth it.

There were casualties of course.  I had to sacrifice my old phone number.  I'm currently trying to find out if there's a way to easily send a mass text message to everyone in my contacts list, or should I just not let anyone know?  I'll sleep on it.  But if you never hear from me again, laziness is probably the reason why.

*This isn't true, but I like to pretend it is.

Differences

Why?!? Why does this happen?!?!

-- Posted From My iPhone, which is not covered in snot.

This is really real.

This is not made up. It is completely inconceivable that I would make this up. This is a guy I totally know in my really real life:



Imagine what his life is like today? And/or yesterday, depending on when you read this. Hope your day went half as well as mine!

-- Posted From My iPhone with apologies to all Lakers fans. I hold myself personally responsible for today's loss.

Happy Holidays!

You know, if you're in to that sort of thing. Otherwise, just pretend I'm a crazy man and have a nice normal day.



-- Posted From My iPhone with extra holiday pizazz.

New plan

In light of the current economic state, the pending holiday and the bitter cold climate of Chicago, I've developed a new plan.  I need heat, but I don't want to pay for it.  You know what produces heat?  Burning coal.  You know who is the greatest coal distributor in the world?  That's right, Santa.  Not a lot of people know this, but whether you celebrate Christmas or not, Santa comes to your house.  If you don't celebrate Christmas, you get coal.  Think about it  Christmas non-celebrators, how else can you explain your yearly delivery of coal on December 25th?  Unfortunately, I do celebrate Christmas, so there's no automatic delivery of coal, but there is a loophole in the system.  According to the rules, if I'm naughty, I'll get coal.  With that in mind, I introduce you to the new me:

I call him "Dastardly Jon" for fairly obvious reasons.  As you can see, I've forgone the usual dastardly mustache in favor of the less common and entirely under appreciated dastardly eyebrows.  Bring it Santa.  I look forward to a warm winter.  Muahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahah (deep breath) hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha...

I promised myself I wouldn't cry...

And now I've failed at too.

I'm sure you're wondering why all the head swelling.  Well, it's pretty simple.  I thought I was going to be able to watch the Laker game tonight, but it's been blacked out.  I'm taking it pretty hard.

Should have been working on a post, but...

Instead I was doing this:

Reminder post about how much I hate bare feet

I think at this point, you are all aware of my personal hatred of bare feet.  Yeah, it runs deep.  But what you may not be aware of is my love of new socks (New socks were provided by my lovely and talented Fiancée.).  If you're easily offended, then you best steer clear of me when I put on some new socks, because you will hear a deep, satisfying sigh of pure, unadulterated joy come out of me when I put on those new socks.  Let me be clear about one thing: I only wear crew socks.  Never, under any circumstances, will you see me wearing ankle socks*.  I have bald ankles (probably from all the sock wearing that I do) and I like to keep them safe and warm.  Here's a little something I drew up to commemorate today's post:

*In the event of a crew sock apocalypse (the "Great Crewsocalypse," as it will be called), I will use my secret stash of duct tape to fashion the ankle/calve portion of the socks and claim that they are a special pair of crew socks able to withstand any and all anti-crew sock weaponry.

Sorry for the nudity.

When it comes to showers, if there's no hot water involved, then there is only misery. This is what I look like when taking a cold shower. Don't worry, it's been censored for the kids.



-- Posted From My iPhone and yes, I WAS hurting for a post tonight.

Can't concentrate

That spec of dirt is on the side of the screen I CAN'T touch. I'm going to need therapy.


-- Posted From My iPhone, which is currently marred by a spec if dirt.

Enjoy your nightmares...

I had to look at this all morning, so guess what you get to look at:

I'm sorry I had to get so graphic in my drawing today, but there was just no other way to convey what I witnessed.  To be clear, I was looking at pictures.  I was not actually present during an autopsy.

Yeah, this post is about my dinner.

I had what I believe the kids call a "tuna melt" tonight.  There was tuna and there was melted cheese.  Is there anything else in a tuna melt?  I'm not going to look it up, but feel free to enlighten me in the comments.  This of course reminded me of that ages old, famous philosophical debate, "What the heck is canned tuna anyway?"  It just doesn't seem right that a meat can be put in a can and stay "fresh" for years, much less a fish based meat.  It's a well known fact that most fish meat becomes rancid within 2 hours of being removed from the recently deceased fish from whence it came.  Tuna defies the laws of nature.  Please help me spread awareness by posting this picture everywhere:

Please note that I do enjoy tuna, so I'm not really anti-tuna, I just want to redefine tuna in a dictionary sort of way, not in a practical, get-in-my-tummy sort of way.  Keep fishin' for tuna says I!

The Inevitable

There are annoyingly few guarantees in life, but I've resigned myself to a few certainties.  It is unavoidable that at some point in my life I will have to fight a bear*.  I don't know what kind of bear, but we will do battle with only our hands/paws and wits/uncontrollable bear rage.  You can expect it to look something like this:

*Please note that if it is at all possible, I will try to fight the smallest bear I can find.  I'm not saying I'll walk away from a fight just because it's a larger bear than I would like, I'm just saying that I'm a realist, and the chances of me taking down the biggest bear aren't nearly as good as my chances of taking down a smaller bear.  Not a baby bear, I won't fight children, but if there's such a thing as a dwarf bear, or a midget bear, or some kind of animatronic build-a-bear that's the size of a dachshund hound or something, I want in on that fight.  I'm also open to Koala bears.

This might be me at my best. Really take some time to think about that.

I don't actually have an idea for a post.  I'm just going to start typing and see what happens.  I'm sure a lot of you are thinking, "if you don't have an idea for a post, why are you posting?  NaBloPoMo is over.  Why are you still torturing yourself?  I'm certainly not reading your blog anymore.  You're really only hurting yourself by putting up sad videos of you shocking yourself."  I can't really argue with that.  Those are all very valid points.

Now allow me to contradict myself and argue why I should still be posting.  I need to keep doing this because not having an idea is just an excuse, right?  I see lots of stuff get posted on the internet that's a terrible idea.  Why should I be the exception?  Why not join in?  To tell you the truth, I'm not going to be happy until I'm posting the worst possible posts every day.  I need to know that people will not only stop reading this, but they will go out of their way to tell other people not to read it and they will do so with such a passion and fervor that you only see in Raiders fans that sit in the Black Hole.

I was hoping that if I typed long enough, I would think of a picture to draw that would somehow tie all of this together.  Nothing yet.

Still thinking...

Ok, how about this?

Yeah... I don't know.  Try and figure out if that's a real mustache, or if I just drew it on there with a marker.

The Shocking Truth

***Updated with marginally larger video.  It's still pretty small though, so don't get your hopes up.***

So yeah... I do this.  It also seems as though I'm not good at creating a decent version of it for youtube.

Trust me though, it looks better in the original video.  I'll work on a better version, but don't hold your breath.

I'm already down, there's no need to kick me as well

I hate watching the Lakers lose.  I really can't describe to you how much it bothers me.  I know that they can't win every game, but that doesn't stop me from wanting them to win every game.  I sort of predicted tonight's loss too.  The Lakers have had a very nice start to the season with 17 of their first 21 games being played at home.  That's a lot.  Utah isn't a bad team at all, and the way the Lakers embarrassed them three nights ago, it's not surprising that when they played in Utah tonight that the Jazz we're looking for a little payback.  I didn't anticipate Kobe having a broken finger and the flu for the second game, but I don't know how much that really mattered.  I think Phil left him in the game for too long and it probably cost them, although I'm sure Kobe's ego made Phil keep him in the game.

That game is over now and there's nothing you can do but move on.  I get that.  That's the thing about sports.  The only losses that really stick with you are the ones in championship games because you have to live with them the longest.  But what I really didn't need to see was Taylor Lautner hosting Saturday Night Live tonight.  That's just cruel and unusual punishment.  I only made it through his first post monologue sketch.  I saw the premise as soon as the sketch started.  It went on for far too long and there was little to no payoff for it.  The saddest part for me was the last 10 seconds when Andy Samberg walked on and made me slightly smile, something Taylor couldn't accomplish in the 7+ minutes he had, and they were doing the EXACT SAME THING!  I spent 6 1/2 minutes doing this:

It's Friday, what did you expect?

Every once in awhile, like when I have no decent ideas for a post (which is only about 93% of the time), I like to imagine things like this:

I think the similarities are most obvious in the neck.

I can feel it in the air...

There's not a whole heck of a lot that I like about winter weather.  Actually, there's really only one thing that I like about winter weather and that is static electricity.  I've been spending the majority of my time doing this:

First, I roll around on the comforter, then I walk over to the nearest light switch and use the screws in the light switch plate as a good grounding point and enjoy the shock.  Roll and repeat.  I'm really not kidding.  I probably do this too much.  My personal best so far is about a 1 centimeter arc.  Usually it's only about 1/2 a centimeter.  I take what I can get though.  Most of the year I get nothing, so I probably over-indulge a little bit.  I might stop when I start to smell my flesh burning, but I make no promises.

My life is very mundane.

For you information, there has been a woot-off going on for the past few days.  For your further information, I have managed not to buy a Dyson vacuum this time.  We'll ignore the fact that I haven't seen them put one up for sale yet.  Sadly, my reward for this is having the money to pay the bills.  Join me now as I write some checks...

The one where I let my true feelings of David Blaine be known, but it's not really about him

Rain isn't always fun.  Neither is snow.  Sometimes they are, but sometimes they aren't.  But you know what's never fun?  32.5 degrees Fahrenheit.  That's just above freezing.  What happens at this temperature?  Nothing good.  You get an icy rain coming down and melting on the ground.  It's like watching rain in slow motion.  But that's not even the worst part.  The worst part is when the night comes and the temperature drops fairly quickly.  What happens then is everything is encased in ice and not in a good way.  (FYI, the only good way something is encased in ice is when it's David Blaine and no one will let him out.)  What you end up with is treacherous fun:

*** You'll need to click on the picture to get the full effect***

You may have noticed that there are no cars on the street.  This is because of a massive 348 car pileup just off camera.  And I'm not smiling because of the accident.  I'm smiling because I was enjoying the first few feet my slide when my face froze that way.  That was 15 blocks ago.  I'm actually terrified beyond belief because I can't figure out how I'm going to stop.

Let me give you the tour...

Do you know what this is?

That's right, it's a picture of my bedroom wall.  I've covered my walls with custom Fatheads showing off my amazing athletic prowess.  Some people want posters of their favorite bands, some people want motivational posters featuring kittens in precarious positions, but those are for middle school kids.  I'm an adult now, so it's time that I moved on to more adult decor.  If you think these are for kids, you're dead wrong.  No kid should be able to afford these things.  Custom Fatheads are a status symbol, trust me.  They say, "I'm successful enough to afford to take high quality pictures of myself wearing the uniforms of professional sports teams and have them converted into life sized nylon stickers that I can place on my walls and windows."

I can't wait until they film my episode of Cribs.  That show is totally still on, right?

Times have changed.

I remember trimming the tree when I was a little kid.  It was a lot different than what we did tonight.  Yeah, you know what's coming now.  An illustration good enough to be a photograph*.  We're going "before" and "after" this time.  Just a heads up, this tree is pre-lit with fiber optic lights.  We didn't have those as children.  I'm still on the fence when it comes to pre-lit trees.  I think stringing the lights on a tree is an art.  It's a huge pain, but that's what art is, right?  A huge pain.

Majestic, isn't it?

*Digital photograph with a .01 MP camera.

Two things...

There are two issues I'd like to address today.

Issue #1:

As you can see, this is a highly detailed diagram of the temperature status inside our living room, bedroom and outside.  I'm not sure what the temperatures are like at either of our neighbors condos, so I've cleverly added question marks in place of numerical temperatures.  I don't really care if you want to use the Centigrade scale, or the Fahrenheit scale, I believe the principle remains the same.  Sure, under the Centigrade scale I look crazy for turning on the heater, but that's not what I'm trying to illustrate here.  What I'm trying to show you is that the heat distribution is terrible.  Which brings us the next isssue.

Issue #2:

I believe I've documented the NGZs on my face before.  I can't grow sideburns.  It is my cross to bear.  But what I've previously been to ashamed to admit is that if I were to attempt to grow a goatee, I would reveal another NGZ on my face.  I currently get by with combing some of my beard into the area to make it less obvious, but the truth is, HDTV would ruin me.  My NGZs would be major fodder for all the tabloids.

I guess my point is, even though my shameful NGZ existed long before I moved here, I'm going to attribute it to our uneven heating circulation.

That is all.

Another reason you should be jealous of me.

Yesterday we had our first snow flurries here in Chicago.  That means it's fricken dang cold here again.  I'm ok with it this year though because of where I work.  I know what you're thinking, but no, my work does not supply me with a heated bubble to travel around in.  That would be sweet though.  I have the next best thing.  I have about 1/2 mile of underground pathways that connect the building I live in to the building I work in.  I wish I could take credit for digging these myself, but I cannot.  It's just part of the downtown area.  The "Pedway" they call it.  It takes a little longer to navigate the Pedway than to walk outside, but when there's 12 feet of snow on the ground, I'll take the extra five minutes of warm walking to the shortcut of digging through snow and ice (which you would think would take longer due to the digging, but I use special tools that actually propel me forward at an alarming rate as I dig.  It's very tiring and it makes me sweaty.  Nobody wants to work with a sweaty guy.).  So until they invent these:

I'll be taking the Pedway.

Caption Contest!!

Ok, so I had this dream:

Thoughts?

For future reference

I won't say exactly what prompted this post today, but I will say that I'm doing this as a public service.  Please print the following graph and carry it around in your wallet in case we ever meet.  I think you'll find that we will all benefit from it.

That's all for now.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

For my birthday this year, the other of great significance bought me two tickets to tonights Weezer concert at the Aragon Ballroom.  It took me awhile to decide who I wanted to take (I went with the gift giver (and by awhile, I mean .000004 seconds)) but that was ok because I had a month to think about it.  So we're about to head out now, and to show my appreciation, I may do this:

Hope you're all enjoying your December 1st as much as I am!

Yikesopotamus!*

I got a haircut today.  Perhaps I was influenced by my recent viewing of "I Love You Man" (seriously, what was up with the haircuts in that cinematic endeavor?) or perhaps I just got sick of thinking about whether or not I should start using a comb.  The truth, like so many used q-tips, may never be found.  And probably nobody wants to find it either.  Aside from the usual trail of tiny little hairs that follows me around for the rest of the day, I should point out that cutting my hair is no easy task.  Allow me, if you will, to draw a picture to show you what I mean:

I can't make it any more clear than that.

Of course, I'd also like to give a shout out to those other bloggers that have helped make sure I get at least 2 to three hits per day and keep me entertained in the comments.  Thank you Cadiz, Madelyn, Syar and Cofo!  It's much more fun when you've got company!

Now I think I've earned a nap.

*this is a word I think I made up that I've been saying in my head all month, but never out loud.  I'm thinking of making it my new catch phrase.  I'm also pretty sure it won't catch on.  It's a descriptive term that could probably be attached to all of my November posts.  I think you know what it means...

Heat check!

Sure, I could tell you that I sat around all day watching TV and enjoyed every minute of it, but you wouldn't believe me.  You know that my life is filled with so much more than watching informercials about where I need to send all my loose gold and Wii Resort Archery.  So here's the truth of what I spent my day doing:

Yeah, I know it's obvious, but I'll explain it anyway.  Most of today was dedicated to running around the streets of Chicago and sliding across the hoods of cars.  Some of them parked, some of them moving and some of them buses.  Yeah, I got hops.

You might think someone would try and stop me after sliding across the hood of their car, but you'd be wrong.  Most people appreciate a good hood slide.  I have a personal journalist that follows behind me while I practice my hood slides.  They often interview the drivers of the cars whose hoods I have graced with my sliding abilities and the most common word used to describe my brief (for lack of a better term) performance art is, "majestic."

Is it dangerous? Yeah, but so is picking a fight with an axe murder, but you don't see anyone shying away from that, do you?  I happen to know that it brings a smile to a lot of children's faces, so I'm sort of obligated to do it when you really think about it.  Also, just so we're clear, I wear polish on my shoes and a buffing rag on my hip, so I'm actually perfomring a bit of a community service when I do this and I always leave the hood in better condition than it was pre-slide.  The city should be paying me.  I gotta go make some calls.  Talk to you later.

Look at what I found underneath the bottom of the barrel...

Fortunately, I'm sure most people have stopped reading by now.  That's a good thing.  Look at this statistical data I just made up to prove my point:

You just can't argue with science.  irrefutable evidence

Answering the call

I'm all about self discovery.  Yesterday, I found out that I can't actually eat a whole turkey.  I can't even eat 1/10 of a turkey.  In my attempt to eat entirely too much food yesterday, I didn't eat any Pumpkin Pie.  I woke up this morning still feeling sort of full, so I didn't feel the need to eat until around lunch time.  For my lunch, it seemed appropriate that I only eat Pumpkin Pie.  That's when I discovered that my new calling in life is to make sure that no delicious Pumpkin Pie ever spoils.  Even if it means I have to eat one delicious Pumpkin Pie every day.

This is my new nightmare:

The Giving of Thanks

Well, we did it.  Today, we gave the crap out of thanks.  So much thanks was given that I don't think I'll need to eat for the rest of the weekend.  I may have tripled my body weight.  But I was once told that for some people, food = love, so today, I felt very loved.  I was unable to be with my blood relatives, but the surrogates filled in just fine.  If I don't post tomorrow, this is why:

I may complain about my circumstances from time to time, but when you really think about it, I'm doing just fine. And for that, I am thankful.

Amanda was right... (she's my sister by the way)

I knew I'd be happy, but this... I just never saw it coming.

Seriously, why DIDN'T you think of that?

I was actually feeling creative earlier today.  That feeling has subsequently left my body and moved on to much richer soil.  I'm still waiting for the reports to finish, but the early returns suggest that all creativity left my body at the approximate moment I sat down in front of this computer.  There's got to be a pill for this sort of thing, right?

Oh, there's not?

Hmmm... Let's see about that. (queue music)

>Insert totally awesome montage here.  Don't worry about it now, by the time anyone realizes this is just a ploy to distract them so they don't realize how lame this post is, it will be too late!  Also, make sure the music is loud enough to drown out maniacal laughter<

Ok, after feverishly toiling away in the lab with some guys that I believe are scientists, we came up with this advertisement:

*Shuck 'N Jive industries makes no claim that this product will make you more creative.  Taking this pill is a serious risk to your health as it is the size of a small horse.  Know side effects include but are not limited to: Severe cramping, the Jimmy legs, swelling of the ego, loss of vision in your inner eye, writers block, cravings for condensed soups made by off-brands, shortened battery life on all portable electronics, heightened awareness of how much others don't like you, sock fatigue, tearing up at the sight of Geico commercials, sudden desire to laugh at The Family Circus, uncontrollable band-aid use, harrumphing and witchcraft.

I pop way more than I lock

I realized that I haven't made a ridiculously misleading graph in quite some time.  I attempt to correct that travesty today.

As you can see in the graph below, I like to crack my various joints.  Those that know me well will notice the graph is not complete as I have left off my jaw, hips, shoulders and toes.  This is not an oversight on my part, nor was it a matter of space restrictions.  I like to maintain a certain amount of mystery and privacy.  To that end, I have kept those numbers to myself.  I will say this though, I have TMJ and people have asked me if I can make my jaw not pop while I eat.  My friends, I cannot.  It will pop as long as I can chew or a maxillofacial surgeon breaks my jaw (either out of frustration from the constant popping during our meals together, or because she/he's just trying to correct the problem).

**UPDATE**

It's not properly indicated on the graph, but the numbers on the side represent the number of cracks/attempts to crack per day.

The one about lists, but it's not actually a list...

So I'm supposed to be making a list for Christmas.  I don't know exactly when it happened (although I'm sure some totally anonymous stranger and/or a family member will let me know in the comments), but I stopped wanting to make Christmas/birthday lists.  Don't get me wrong, I haven't stopped wanting things, I've just stopped wanting to ask other people for them.  (Except a job.  I'm still in the want to ask people for one of those.)  It's tough to explain with words what happens when I try to sit down and make these lists, so obviously I'm going to draw a picture.  It's going to be a little abstract.  Good luck figuring it out.  There might even be a metaphor in there or something, who knows?  My art is very deep.  Here you go:

I've been out of the game for too long

I don't often buy greeting cards.  I should, I just don't.  It's a character flaw and I'm working on it.  Today, the fiancée and I were at one of those mega party stores, looking around at all the stuff we would buy if we were millionaires that enjoyed throwing extravagant parties with cheap plastic decorations.  That's not why we were there, but that's what we were doing.  When we finished with that, we moved on to the business at hand.  She needed to buy some thank-you cards for some important people.  We were looking around for just the right card.  We didn't find it, but what we did find was a little disturbing.  I was not aware that Thanksgiving was a card holiday.  That's not what disturbed me the most though, it was the specificity of the cards.  Check out these:

I think that last one is just lazy, but maybe that's just me.

I didn't want to sleep tonight anyway...

I just watched a history channel show about Caligula.  I believe this is an accurate representation of what I looked like for the last hour:

And when this show was over, another show about World War II started, but someone didn't want to watch that because it might give her nightmares.  I'll be getting my nightmares directly from Caligula tonight, not WWII.

The one where I lose all of my shame plus some shame of a person I've never met and try to coin the phrase digital beggary

The cold hard reality that I have to live with every day is that I'm not immune to making bad decisions.  I know, I didn't believe it when I first heard it either, but I went to the doctor and he confirmed that I had B-D.I.D.S. (Bad Decision Immune Deficiency Syndrome.)

I might not have made this clear before, but I don't get paid a lot of money.  As such, I really shouldn't even be paying attention to woot when there's a woot-off going on.  I made the mistake of checking in at around 10 am central time.  They had a Dyson cannister vacuum up there for a very attractive price.  The price really doesn't matter though because at this point, no price is really good enough.  Unfortunately, this is one of those rare moments when my iPhone failed me.  See, when it comes to woot, you guessed it, there's an app for that.  I rushed in a little too quickly before really thinking it through, so now I've probably got to unload this thing on eBay.

The thing that sucks the most about this is that we really need a vacuum.  Our vacuum broke awhile back and we've avoided buying a new one because the good ones don't come cheap and there doesn't seem to be much of a point to owning a crappy one that will just break in a few months.

So I've got three options:

1. Get a better job.  (I'm working on that)

2. Spend all of my free time on the street wearing this:

3. Engage in digital beggary by hocking things nobody really wants like this:

If I can just sell a few hundred of these, I should be good.  I recommend buying at least 36 at a time because the price for buying in bulk is way better than for smaller quantities.  Plus, who wants to wash dishes all the time?  Why not have a few dozen mugs that you only have to wash once a month!  Tell all of your friends!  Tell your friends to tell all of their friends!  Let's just make this a big social experiment.  Let's see how many of these babies we can sell!  Who's with me?  Once the vacuum cleaner has been paid for, all remaining proceeds will be divided by two charities:  The Pay the Damn Mortgage Foundation (a personal favorite) and The United Let's Hope We Don't Have To Serve Pizza At Our Wedding Federation (another personal favorite).  So you know it's for a good cause.

The show went on...

but some people's lives might not.  I can't tell you exactly what happened due to a pending lawsuit*, but this evenings performance of The Addams Family had a third act.

I'll let this do the talking for me:

*Nothing happened.  Nothing at all.  Something should have happened, but I guess I'm just not that kind of guy. And by that kind of guy, I mean the kind of guy that commits mukduk.

You get what you ask for...

I'll admit it, I'm running behind.  See, my significant other and I are going to a show tomorrow night.  It's the final installment of her Christmas gift from last year.  The show starts at 7:30.  What with our work schedules and all, we're not going to have much time for dinner, so I'm doing some prep work for that tonight.  With pretty much no time left this evening, I asked my significant other for the first thing that popped into her head.  She said Bob.  So here you go, here's Bob.

Everyone say, "Hi, Bob!"

Also, Bob is not "flipping you off," he's saying, "You're number one!"