Flashback To Pajamas

Earlier today I stopped by Der FoodMeister to pick up some asiago cheese. Melt some asiago on a bagel and eat it with some cream cheese. Do it now. You will think you done died and went to heaven. It's a savory delight in every bite.

As I was strolling through the parking lot, I saw a car with a Kennedy/Johnson bumper sticker. You can get them at the Kennedy Library. It triggered a memory from my youth. Aren't we all lucky that this picture was taken to capture this moment from Christmas Day back in 1989? You can see why I recognized the bumper sticker. I'm the jerk with the guitar.

My brother and I always got new pajamas on Christmas Eve. I'm not sure how long we would actually wear them, as neither one of us are very fond of sleeping so attired. Obviously, there are two Kennedy campaign posters, and a Rebel Without A Cause poster, as well. That was my side of the room. My brother's posters are on the other side of an invisible boundary line that we apparently guarded very, very well. Look at that typewriter! I have a small collection of typewriters, but when it comes to actually writing anything you really can't beat a computer. I'm sorry. I'm a romantic, but I have to draw the line somewhere. Saying, "Aw, fuck!" repeatedly and using gallons of White Out is about where I draw that line.

My brother is playing Nintendo. Probably some game that you can download in less than a minute and play with an emulator on your computer. I'm doing some sort of mock cool pose that is so unbelievably unflattering that it's, well, hard to believe. It was only a matter of months after this that I joined the Socialist Party and began the journey leading to psychosomatic illnesses brought about by political frustration. In return I got to learn from, and enjoy the company of, radicals and intellectuals like Anne Rosenhaft, Frank P. Zeidler, David McReynolds, J. Quinn Brisben and Bill S.

Well, that's about all I have today. I'm getting a little choked up here thinking about the first time I met Quinn Brisben. I was totally blown away. He and his wife Andrea took me to dinner and they told me about how they smuggled condoms into the Soviet Union. He then insisted on taking me out to see as many plays as possible, in MY home town. But I digress...again. Do you mind?

Ms.Chouette Levee And The Post Too Long

This is a strange conversation I had with a woman on an online atheist discussion list. It is presented here with the expressed written consent of Major League Baseball.

DWLyle,

Recently you wrote an extremely long email about the roots of empathy in the brain. The study you provided backed up what you said, that there is evidence that empathy can be traced physically to the insula between the frontal and parietal lobes. It added a lot to the discussion. In the future, however, could you try to write posts that aren't quite so long? My inbox is full of email, and it takes me forever to get through them all. Thank you!

MsChouetteLevee@care2.com

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Dear MsChouetteLevee,

Don't thank me yet, because I think your request is absurd. If you can't keep up with your inbox, that's your problem, not mine. My post was long because it needed to be. I don't know what else to say. Learn to scan.

Darren W. Lyle

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Dear Mr. Lyle,

I kindly ask that you shorten the length of your posts and you tell me to "learn to scan." Very nice...sort of an asshole, aren't you? I guess I got that vibe from your posts. You think you're so damn smart with all your castaway intellectual references. My request was simple, just do what I ask. Otherwise, I'll report you to the moderator. There are rules to be followed.

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Dear Unstable French Woman,

Do what you ask, or you'll report me to the moderator? How curious! You're not really asking so much as demanding. And what "castaway" references are you talking about? Do you mean the Tom Hanks movie? Oh, well. Try looking at it like this in the future. When you see a post from me, just imagine that it was twice as long originally, but that I cut the length in half for you. That way, we can both walk away from this ridiculous conversation happy. I can write as much as I want, but from your point of view they'll be half the length. Good enough? Also, don't bother reporting any of this to the moderator, because I'm the moderator. Thanks.

Darren W. Lyle

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Dear Mr. Lyle,

I'm going to be in Boston on business next month, perhaps we could get together. Sorry for calling you names.

MsChouetteLevee

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Chouette,

You're very odd, and a bit obnoxious. I think I will have to meet you for dinner. Your treat, of course. Don't worry about calling me an, "asshole." If you get to know me better, you'll come to realize that people swear at me frequently. I'm pretty anti-social these days, so I'll most likely cancel any date or meeting we set up. I'm an enigma.

D'Lisle

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Darren,

Well, thank you for cutting down on your posts. I'll see you on the list.

CHOUETTE

My Chat With Comcastic Brian

Comcast Online HelpDesk
chat id : 61410747-d322-402e-87c0-35f3150bb924
Problem : General Inquiry

Brian > Thank you for contacting Comcast. My name is Brian, how may I assist you today?
Darren > It says that you're an "analyst."
Brian > That's right. How can I help you?
Darren > My analyst told me that I have borderline personality disorder. Do you concur?

There was a long pause here.

Brian > Can I help you?
Darren > Oh, man. Yeah, I want to shut off my voicemail.
Brian > One momnt please.
Darren > I can wait a momnt.
Brian > To shut off voicemail would require having it removed from the account by calling our Digital Voice support at 1-800-COMCAST
Darren > That's unnecessarily elaborate. Could I do it from the phone menu?
Brian > No.
Darren > That makes me angry. Then how can I set the number of rings so high that my answering machine will pick-up before the voicemail system?
Brian > Let me check.
Darren > I'll wait for you to cut and paste the answer.
Brian > I can do that.
Darren > Sing it sister!
Brian > ?
Darren > !
Brian > What?
Darren > SING IT, SISTER!!!!!
Brian > If needed, I can change the number of rings for the voicemail. For security purposes, please provide the last 4 numbers of the Social Security or PIN number on the account.

At this point, I had to give the last four digits of my Social Security number so I could access my account and change the number of rings on my voicemail. I'm sure this is what Roosevelt had in mind.

Brian > I have updated the rings for you.
Darren > Excellent, thank you. Do you like your job?
Brian > No. Is there anything else I can help you with today?
Darren > Yeah, I need to refill a prescription.

Analyst has closed chat and left the room

That Clinking, Clanking Sound

Why do people on the left listen to, and then complain about, Ann Coulter? She's clearly just looking for a reaction. Like some pathetic fat guy trying to kill himself, she's just looking for attention. That's right. Like me, she needs psychiatric help. I'm sure that with psychopharmacology and intense therapy, she can lead a somewhat normal life. Much like "Snarf" from Thundercats.

In other news, Walter Lippman of Venezuela Today and Hands Off Venezuela sent this out today, just as a reminder. Wisdom!

Money makes the world go round
The world go round, the world go round
Money makes the world go round
It makes the world go round

A mark, a yen, a buck or a pound
A buck or a pound, a buck or a pound
Is all that makes the world go round
That clinking, clanking sound
Can make the world go round

Money, money, money, money
Money, money, money, money
Money, money, money, money

And finally, this from Judith Pasternak and the War Resisters League. Four conscientious objectors, Diedra Cobb, Anita Cole, Kelly Dougherty, and Katherine Jashinski, will be honored at the War Resisters League Annual Dinner tonight in New York City. Each of these women refused to serve in Iraq, which naturally got them into trouble given that they are officers. Katherine Jashinski is currently serving a three month sentence for "refusal to obey a legal order."

I do so admire these women, and will never forget what they have done to further the cause of peace. Usually, I spend all my time on this 'blog whining about my problems or embracing irony and absurdity in a desperate plea for laughter. Either that, or I'm trying to make some sort of statement. But no joke here. There is no greater cause on earth than the one taken up by the War Resisters League.

Irritable Bowel or Cartagena Kid?

Women of the world, don't take advice from Cosmopolitan. It should be called, Provincial. The less education and experience a woman has in life, the more likely a magazine like Cosmopolitan will have currency. And to all the men of the world, don't take any advice from Maxim. This is a magazine that has a demographic made up primarily of 10-40 year old men who share a dream: To find a woman who likes anal sex, the taste of semen, football, posing in lingerie, and if she is mildly retarded, all the better.

Both magazines are interesting only if you're horny, or want to be horny. But you can prod your libido without losing your self-respect. Maxim and Cosmo are to sex what farts are to humor. Check out my link to Facettes de la Petite Mort for something really erotic, but I'm getting off subject.

I scanned the image above from an advice column that I tore out of a Cosmopolitan which I found in a Lahey Clinic doctor's office waiting room. It's meant to help women deconstruct the behavior of their asshole boyfriends. Naturally, it gives specious advice that will cause untold misery in countless American relationships. The receptionist saw me laughing, then saw what I was reading. We get along really well, as I'm at my doctor's office frequently for blood tests and whatnot. But she looked at me like I reading Hustler or National Review. I didn't bring it in! There were two choices on the table, Golf Digest and Cosmopolitan. Which would you choose?

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to use the loo again. Again! I'm going for the record!