People are always saying "the early bird catches the worm." I don't know about you, but catching a worm doesn't exactly seem like the greatest goal in the world to me. Anyhow, there's a similar saying that really sums up my symptoms right now. "The curly turds, retches, and burns." I've decided to not just sit around, waiting for winter's flu-like symptoms to come to me in their own sweet time: I've decided to go out and GET them. What can I say? I'm an eager fellow. Anyhow, I've been given various advices for this problem, the most common of which is to take a lot of Ecinacea. I originally confused this with euthenasia, but I guess both things artificially keep people alive. Doesn't it suck that people used to die of influenza all the time? Can we all agree that living, say, in the Middle Ages would've bit the giant cosmic Big One? For one, they probably didn't understand the healing efffects of ecinacea. Neither did they have a basement full of Campbell's (tm) Chicken Soup for their convalescence. They just drew blood from each other and died at age 23. Ripperzoid.

Boy, life sure is funny huh?

I'm very very very happy to announce that Didi and I were invited to an All Hallows Eve par-tay. I like these things, for some reason. Everyone being so silly that coolness is just out the window, and we can all just drink Stewart's and laugh. Anyhow, the problem is what in tarnation you wear at these things. If Didi had her way, we'd follow some superhero motif, and I'd end up looking like this sad, sad man:

Fortunately, this can not possibly happen as long as grass grows from God's soil. My body isn't ready for spandex, nor is the world to view it so adorned. I remember going as PeeWee Herman back in the day. Good times. I always thought that the kids who went as Sta-Puft the Marshmallow Man were really showing off.

It a windmill, daddy.

Yeah, I was also in California recently- helping to dedicate Kirk Douglass Ave. in Palm Springs- and saw the Awesome Windmills of I-10.

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I wish there was a way to upload MP3 files onto my blog. Anybody know how to do this?

People have been shaving their heads for religious purposes as far back as at least the priests of Osiris back in Egypt, and the fact that I'm referring to Egypt with any historical significance lets you know I'm talking about a long, LONG time ago. But what about the coloring part? You probably don't know this, because you don't have the inclination to go wandering about howstuffworks.com like me, but would-be heroes of ancient Greece would use really hard soaps (what does that mean, you think? STONES?) and bleaches to lighten and redden their hair to the color that was identified with honor and courage. First-century Romans, on the other hand, preferred dark hair, which was made so by a dye concocted from boiled walnuts and leeks. Isn't that fascinating?

Now you know where musicians come from. I guess even way back in the Bronze era, or whatever that was back then, they had goofballs dissatisfied with the way God put them together. So riddle me this: is hair coloring and teeth whitening and skin- tanning okay, but tummy tucks are wrong? Are piercings wrong wholesale, or only on non-ears? Are boob jobs bad, but spending 2 years in the gym okay to achieve similar results? I say none of this because these are unsettled issues for me (I really don't care what anybody's rules are on such issues), but because there seems to be a lot of this rule-making in the air. It curiousifies me.

I myself have a newly futzed-with look. I realize it's deviant. I don't THINK I do this sort of thing for the attention, but obviously I'm not averse to it (just like the neon shirts I wore in 10th grade. It'd be hard to argue I've dressed to be overlooked, historically). Those deviants like myself who're so bent on freedom of expression that they disregard the fact that there IS a social norm, that there ARE mores to be respected- these people cause head-scratching for me (then again, so does my new look! AHA!)

What are we doing here- talking? I'm wasting my time TYPING, for Pete's sake? I've got to get OUT THERE, where people can observe me in all my Difference and Poignancy! Layta, suckaz.

This, from guest Mashman Jeff Davenport:

Snakes rise up in the murky water
Toothless and smelly
Their odor is their venom
Drowning.
Drowning.
Flush.


And this, my autumn observation: with that chin of theirs, the doe eyes, and the fit fit bodies, there can be no mistaking that Ricky Martin and Jessica Simpson are the same person. I have never seen them at the same place.