If DJ Tanner Were My Best Friend
If DJ Tanner was my best friend, we would hang out every day after school. Her Uncle Jessie would share his hair accoutrements with us and we would sit in her fake bedroom and talk about Nelson (our favorite band.) I would convince DJ that Kimmy Gibbler was really trying to get her to join a cult that would send her to Taiwan to be a child bride. Then Kimmy Gibbler would be arrested
If Dennis Quaid Was My Dad
If Dennis Quaid was my dad, I would be happy. He’s probably a good dad, and I would probably love him. Randy Quaid would be my uncle, and he’d wear caftans when he visited and buy me caftans for my birthday. We’d live in Texas and I’d have a great accent. My dad would invent a shrinking machine like he did in that one movie and take me for a ride in his shrinking spaceship. We’d probably go inside my grandpa Buddy Quaid’s body and look around. Maybe my mom would be PJ Soles since they dated in the late 70’s. She’d introduce me
I camp with my friends from time to time. I love camping, but I’m certainly the least manly of the group when it comes to outdoorsy situations. For example, I’m likely the only one in the group to describe like situations as “outdoorsy”. Recently one of my friends put together an outing to a desolate lake deep in the Sierra-Nevada mountains for a couple days complete with flatulence, beer drinking, gun shooting, fishing and plenty of machismo.
After much preparation and a long trek in, we arrived in an empty wilderness. Brimming with anticipation, we got right to it. Set up camp, cracked open the ice chest, grabbed the poles and went down to the lake to drowned some worms before sunset. A fifth of Jack Daniels and a few fish later we headed back to camp to get
Mr. Falafel, aka "Bad Advice Nurse", provides some dialogue for the Peanuts gang. Get more useful insights and dependable tips at twitter.com/badadvicenurse
House Party on the Hardwood
This year a retro haircut in college basketball has taken me back to the glory days of early 90’s NCAA hoops. I was in late elementary and early jr. high school at the time, developing a deeper love for sports and college basketball in particular.
This was a great time to be a college basketball fan. Coack K was building a milk toast rebellion with young Jedis like Christian Laetner, Grant Hill and Bobby Hurley, meanwhile at the Death Star there was no shortage of towel-biting and backroom deals for the Rebels of UNLV. And somewhere in the middle was the most storied team in NCAA history at Kentucky with Jamal Mashburn and his unique hairstyle writing the newest chapter.
At this time the Bel Biv Devoe, Another Bad Creation and the rest of the East Coast Family were lighting up the soundboards at radio stations, movie goers had bullets to dodge at theaters thanks to movies like New Jack City, Menace 2 Society and the like. But there was also a more light-hearted movie where the worst you’d face is a possible shank—the movie was House Party and it was
I Want to Make Waffles With You Tomorrow Morning
Hi, how are you? Can I buy you a drink? I don’t mean to be forward but I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. You have a very distinctive look- one that insists on being noticed. I’m sure you hear this all the time, what with all the vultures in this night club, but perhaps what you don’t hear is this. My dear, from the moment I saw you I was struck by the desire to make waffles with you tomorrow morning.
I can see my offer intrigues you. Go ahead; think it over while you finish your drink. It’s not often I see a woman who inspires me like this. Sure, I’ve invited many back to my place, but never have I wanted so much to make waffles with someone tomorrow morning. What do you say we go grab a cab right now? I know, there is a lot of time to kill before breakfast but I’m sure we can find something to do. The important thing is that we wake up together and make waffles.
Vivian Maier: As Real As The Streets
Possibly one of the greatest street photographers of the 20th century uncovered in Chicago. Vivian Maier, a lifelong nanny, shot photos in her spare time and amassed an amazing collection that was never shared 'til after death.
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Radiation Poisoning Lovers Rejoice: Chernobyl Opens to Tourists
As reported by the Associated Press, Ukraine is poised to open Chernobyl (site of the world’s worst nuclear accident) to tourists in 2011.
On April 26, 1986, reactor number four of the Soviet operated nuclear power plant exploded, irradiating hundreds of thousands of people and contaminating thousands of miles with intense levels of radiation.
The site has never been totally vacant, as workers have had to cycle in an out to maintain the site and prevent further disasters, but hundreds of thousands have been displaced from the homes because of the radiation dangers.
So, with soil, ground water and vegetation saturated with a radioactivity measured in a centuries-long half-life, it seems only natural for the Ukrainian government open the deadly site up to tourists with just under a quarter century passed since the deadly event.
While, tours have been operated illegally in the region for years, demand has grown
Laughing at My Own Expense: Interview with Sunda Croonquist
Some of the best comedy is born of the most unfunny of situations. Comedians often grow up feeling alien to their surroundings. They spend their youth on the outside, looking in, and taking note of the oddities of life that many are too busy living to notice. They watch a world they are not a part of and build powers of observation that will ultimately fuel their comedic acts. Being different is the very thing that makes them funny.
As such, for comedian Sunda Croonquist, a self-described Swedish and African-American Jew with a Hindu name, who looks Puerto Rican and spent 16 years in Irish Catholic school, being funny was probably a mandate of her very existence.
A Gift for My Mother
Hey mom, Happy Mothers Day. This year instead of getting you the same card, knick knack, flower combo I usually throw together I am going to give you a little peace of mind. For one day only , this Sunday, I promise not to watch any wrestling. You read that correctly, not one single match, hell, I might even watch something you like, is Oprah on Sundays? I can never keep track, you seem to be watching her in a constant loop.