Sell crazy someplace else. We're all stocked up here.

Admit it. When you read the story of this crazy insane dude keeping his daughter locked on the basement for 24 years and fathering seven children by her all while his wife was clueless to the whole situation, your first thought was, “Oh, thank goodness they’re Austrian.”

It was, wasn’t it?

Well, it was for me, and I’m not ashamed to admit it!

But then I remembered those crazy rogue Mormons in Texas. There’s no chance they’re not actually American, is there? Those prairie dresses could be Austrian, right? I mean, they're probably made out of curtains.

They cause scenes.

Have you ever heard of Improv Everywhere? You should check out their website. I just love these guys. They started out as this little comedy troupe in NYC that would perform improvisational stunts, known as "missions," throughout the city. Now they’ve expanded all over. Their most recent mission was to send their "agents" to a California little league game and act like it was a pro game. They had fans in the stands screaming for the players of their choice, agents distributing concessions and programs, animal mascots, a jumbotron in the outfield broadcasting color commentators, and they even got the Good Year Blimp to do a fly by. After the game the "fans" swarmed the dugouts asking for players’ autographs.

If you go to the website, you can peruse their missions. Their classic mission is called "No Pants," where every year they coordinate hundreds of people to ride the NYC Subway sans trousers, but my favorite mission is The Moebius.

Check it out.

Farewell, my sweet, wretched show!

This week, we bid goodbye to the second season of Rock of Love with the Reunion Show. It was pretty standard stuff, except for the moment when 72-pound Daisy ludicrously got up into the face of Heather, a woman built like a tree trunk. Daisy barely got out two insults before Heather swatted her like a fly, sending Daisy reeling backward, but only until Heather got a fistful of Daisy’s cheap extensions and started pummeling her in the most spectacular fashion. Curse Bret Michaels’ cat-like reflexes in pulling them apart!

Bret seems ready to make a go of it with Ambre, so there are no plans currently in the works for a third season, much to my dismay. I wonder if Vince Neil is available.

This just in: Pope Benedict is an enormous pain.

Has anyone seen the Tribune Democrat's front page today? There's a huge photo of Pope Benedict, with the headline "Enormous pain" just above him. I believe the headline is a blurb from the Pontiff's remarks on the Catholic sex abuse scandals, but really, it just looks like the Trib is declaring they've had enough of his holiness and would prefer it if he hightailed it back to The Vatican. Isn't there some sort of editing process for the layout?

Another possibly crappy movie that's drawing me in...

Have you seen previews for this movie Made of Honor? It looks completely formulaic, sort of like My Best Friend's Wedding with the gender roles reversed and what will certainly be the opposite ending; pretty standard RomCom fare. It has the potential to be delightful or hideous or, if we're very lucky, delightfully hideous. However, since I'm in love with Patrick Dempsey's hair and want to marry it on a mountain top, I'm dying to see it.

Let me save you a little time...

P2. Avoid it.

Allow me to pose a little scenario: Suppose one evening you're looking for a good little scary suspense movie. Maybe you'd think to yourself, "Hmm, a movie about being trapped in a parking garage. That looks good and scary. I hate parking garages. When I am in a parking garage I am prepared at any moment to trip over a dead body or encounter an axe-wielding psychopath." And then maybe you'd think P2 would fit the bill. But you'd be mistaken. Oh so very mistaken. And instead you'd spend two hours wondering what Wes Bentley did so wrong after that promising start he got in American Beauty that would cause him to end up starring in this dreck. And then you'd feel the need to warn your friends.

Aaaand scene.

In the end, I suppose it's easier to aquire some hair dye than a brain.

Tonight was the glorious finale of Rock of Love 2. I will be sad to see it go, but in its absence I can already feel my IQ climbing. Bret took the two finalists, Daisy (she of the doggy-chew-toy face) and Ambre (she of the unfortunate skunk hair) to Cancun, Mexico. When they arrived at their hotel, a troupe of dancers in Mayan dress performed a traditional Mayan dance for them. Through the feathers, you could just see the dancers thinking, “I can’t believe I have to perform my cultural traditions for these skanks.” Bienvenida a Mexico, ladies.

Bret took Ambre on a date that was a much more awesome version of that room in the Baltimore aquarium that recreates the rainforest. Also, there were massages, which the Baltimore aquarium does not have, and I feel the facility is the poorer for it. A bunch of crap happened, but the upshot is that Ambre did her own impression of what I hear is a very famous scene from Basic Instinct, which I have never seen, not that I’m pretending to have any sort of taste here, because let’s face it, I watch Rock of Love. Anyway, I was mortified. As mortified as a Rock of Love viewer has the right to be.

For Daisy’s date, Bret took her on a yacht. They stood on the bow and put their arms out and enjoyed the breeze. It was like Titanic, but with more collagen and hair plugs. Bret declared that he wanted to find out what was in Daisy’s noggin (empty), her heart (also empty), and her soul. When I think of her soul I imagine a tar-like soup in which a few trapped gnats gasp for breath. But Bret had no time to discover this because Daisy started to feel really seasick. It was hilarious. Bret went to tell the captain they needed to head back to shore. Meanwhile Daisy was totally miserable and hurling off the side of the yacht. It was so fabulous!

The next day, as the girls waited for the final elimination, apparently the pressure was all too much for Daisy and she headed out to the balcony to have a breakdown. There was more crying and much more hairline touching. She gave us a bunch of rubbish about being in love, blah, blah, flippety fling blang blah. It’s such a blessing that this season is almost over because I am so weary of correcting Daisy’s grammar. So weary. The way she massacres subject-verb agreement just exhausts me.

There was a lot more drama, but in the end Bret chose Ambre, and Daisy was sent away in a flurry of tears and shame and running mascara. Ambre was delighted, which, sure, whatever. And here’s where I start to hope that this whole relationship goes in the crapper so I can enjoy a Rock of Love season 3.

But it’s not over yet! We still have the reunion show, and from the previews it appears that Daisy and Heather have to be pulled off each other because they’re fighting like Joan Collins and Linda Evans circa 1984. And Big John is just sitting back and enjoying it all. You go, Big J.

Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica...

Miss me?

The Office returns tonight! I'm so happy! I really missed Jim and Kevin and Creed. I really, really missed Stanley. And even Dwight. (I have a soft spot for him because he's a Battlestar Galactica fan.) With all the Rock of Love I've been viewing, it's nice to have a show that doesn't make me feel shame when I admit to watching it.

Muchas gracias

A special thank you to my dear friend Chris, who told me about the idiot mistake I've been making on my taxes for the past two years (i.e. since I started doing them myself instead of letting my mom do them for me.) I'm filing an amended return and getting an extra $312 back! (And just in time, as I got a 30% Kohl's coupon in the mail and am planning to put it to good use.) Thanks, Chris!

It's like I always say, surround yourself with people you enjoy, but make sure at least one of them is an accountant.

Intervention!

Hear my siren song...

I am addicted to Facebook word games. That is all.

Can you spot the fake smile?

Check out this test from the BBC. You get to watch short clips of twenty smiles, and you have to decide if the smile is fake or genuine. You only get to watch each clip once, so be sure to pay attention.

I got 18 out of 20, but I've had some training in deceptive behavior. Let me know how you do.

Sorry about your dad’s cancer. Now get out.

Amanda and Gena told me it would be a good one, and they were right. Tonight’s episode of Rock of Love whittled us down from three women to the final two. But before that happened, we got to meet the girls’ families. Correction: we got to meet Ambre and Destiney’s families, and we got to meet Daisy’s ex-boyfriend’s sister because apparently her family doesn’t speak to her. What? They couldn’t get, like, an aunt or cousin up in here? When your closest “relative” is your ex’s sister, it’s maybe time to take stock of your life and figure out where it all went wrong. My guess would be sometime around the hair extensions.

Anyway, Daisy is sitting there all sad and glum while Ambre and Destiney greet their parents, and wondering who, if anyone, will come for her on Family Day. It was pretty depressing and I started to feel really sorry for her. Until she opened her duck lips and spoke and then I remembered that if I were in her family I wouldn’t talk to her either. Then I decided to spend all my sympathy on Destiney, whose father has terminal liver cancer.

The girls each get a solo date with Bret. On the first date, Bret grills Daisy some more about her fishy relationship with her “ex” Charles. Daisy’s response? “My life isn’t black and white. It’s color.” Bret’s response that that? “Thank you for the education, there, Kodachrome, but what the hell are you talking about?” Exactly, Bret. Exactly. Daisy then declared her love for Bret. Meanwhile Charles’ sister is staring at her all, “You are the property of my brother. Especially your silicone parts.”

On the second date, Bret took Destiney and her parents to the tattoo parlor so Destiney could get a tattoo of the Rock of Love logo on her neck. Apparently she thought this was cool because Heather did it, and can I just say, I think Destiney has more of crush on Heather than on Bret. During the inking, Bret revealed that tattoo pain turns him on. And really, what doesn’t? Collagen! Strippers! Brussel sprouts! Total turn-on!

On the third date, Ambre found herself in hot water when it was revealed that she is 37 years old, and not 32 as she had been telling Bret. I think Bret should have been in hot water for not having the intelligence to tell that that’s not what a 32 year-old looks like, but perhaps I’m just sensitive because I’ll be approaching that age in the not too distant future. Anyway, Bret is shocked, SHOCKED, that Ambre would lie to him about her age. Oh no, Bret! Women lie about their age! This just in: Daisy’s lips aren’t real either!

Oh, and P.S. Between “Scott Baio Is 45 and Single” and the Celebrity Fit Club previews in which Erin Moran is getting drunk and behaving like a stripper, so much so that even Tina Yothers is disgusted, I think it’s pretty clear that VH-1 has ruined Happy Days for all of us.

Before eliminations, the girls have a little chat in which Ambre and Daisy call Destiney on not being attached enough to Bret. Daisy asks Destiney if she would still be on the show if it was Jon Bon Jovi or John Stamos they were dating, and she does so in a tone of voice that implies that she thinks either of those men is LESS of a catch than Bret Michaels. Can collagen seep into your brain?

During eliminations Bret tells each of the ladies what he admires about them. The only thing of note was when he described Daisy as creative. Creative? In what areas? Collagen injection? Hair extensions? Perhaps Daisy could have her own show on the DIY network. Tramping it up! with Daisy de la Hoya. "On this week’s episode: Breast implants and you. The choice to go with silicone or saline. Our hostess has two of each, just for good measure!"

In the end, it was Destiney who had to go, because she wasn’t prepared to say she was in love after spending two weeks with Bret and 20 other girls, most of whom were strippers. This has to be the most respect I had for her all season.

Next week: Mexico! Bret takes Daisy out on a yacht (because apparently the people who developed the show felt the need to copy season 1 point by point) and she gets seasick and vomits off the side. I suppose it only makes sense that Daisy’s date is on a boat. She’s a human flotation device.

I've been Rickrolled!

Fear me!

So, Josh recently Punk’d me. Do the kids still say that? I wouldn’t know because I’m old enough to remember Rick Astley videos, which brings me full circle back to Josh’s little practical joke. He emailed me with a link to a supposed Nastase Reunion video he’d uploaded to You Tube. Like a fool, I followed it and was greeted by the sights and sounds of the whitest white man in Whitonia attempting to get down. Gah! Apparently the phenomenon is called Rickrolling and this puts me in company with the Scientologists. Well played, Mehall. Well played.

Ah, Never Gonna Give You Up. Has anyone ever noticed how repetitive that song is? There are like two lines, and Rick just repeats them over and over while performing his “stylish” “dance moves” for us. I was horrified, yet transfixed. I found I could not take my eyes from the screen. The hair. The clothes. The embarrassing hip wiggling from our carrot-topped leading man. I sat entranced, unable to look away, and this gave me a chance to analyze the video.

What is going on here? We’re at the country club, then we’re down at the docks? What was Rick doing down there, at night, in his dapper white trench coat? And then there’s the outdoor chain link fence scenes. I especially enjoy the all-denim outfit. I think he’s wearing Mom Jeans. And they’re doing nothing to hide his unfortunate lady-hips.

Who are these blonde women dancing behind Rick? The objects of his affection? Have their hearts been aching, but they’re too shy to say it? Inside do they both know what’s been going on? Do they know the game and they’re gonna play it? And more importantly, why are they dressed like extras from the Thunder Road drag racing scene in Grease?

Apparently all of this is terribly inspiring to the bartender, who has no choice but to leap across the bar and perform some actual dancing, Fosse style. I think there may have been jazz hands. And I don’t know what the deal is with this blonde guy who shows up at the end of the video. Is he competing with Rick for the affections of one of the girls? Is he after the affections of Rick himself? What is he doing there and why is he only just showing up for the final verse? To dance. Down by the docks. At night.

In the end, I was left with more questions than answers. Which brings us back to Scientology. See how it all comes full circle?

Oliver, are you somehow responsible for this?

Surely they're not going to

blame us for this? Right? Natalie?

Jen and I went to see The Other Boleyn Girl last night. I always enjoy going to the movies, especially at Andy Lasky’s theater where there are burgers and gobs involved. The film was enjoyable, but there were problems (no spoilers ahead.) The sets and costumes were beautiful and, if you like Tudor history, it certainly gives you a lot to talk about regarding he film’s inaccuracies. And oh, the inaccuracies! The Other Boleyn Girl was so historically inaccurate that I spent the film indulging myself in eye-rolling of the most magnificent proportions. The filmmakers made some choices that were just ludicrous, both from an historical perspective and a filmmaking perspective. That being said, I’d go to a reading of the phone book if Eric Bana were involved. He pretty much rocks.

I’ve heard a lot of guff about Brits being annoyed that yet another American film company has made a movie that casts American actors and butchers British history. To which I say: whatever! The casting of two American actresses didn’t cause the ridiculous characterization of the Boleyn sisters. It didn’t the cause disappearance of certain important characters, or the Oliver-Stone-level disregard the film shows to, you know, actual fact. It is a grossly historically inaccurate screenplay written by an English screenwriter, based on only slightly less historically inaccurate source material written by an English author, and all directed by an English director. If the English weren’t responsible for this mess, they were certainly complicit.

But getting back to the sins of the Americans, there were two women sitting behind us in the theater that were whispering through the whole film. I shushed them three times to no avail, and even gave them the hairy eyeball on my way back to get a drink. Finally, I had to turn around and hiss "Please stop talking!" That finally did it. Why must people be so obtuse, as Andy Dufresne would say?

The twists and turns of Memory Lane

Does anyone remember Hostess Pudding Pies? They were just like their fruit pies, but filled with pudding instead. I loved them when I was a kid, but I hadn’t seen them for years. Then I walked into Sheetz the other day and there they were, wedged in between the Ho-Hos and the Ding Dongs: Hostess Pudding Pies!


I was so excited to see them, I exclaimed, “Holy crap! Are you serious?” right out loud, which earned me a few of those strange looks that I am so accustomed to receiving. So of course I had to buy one. When I got home, I gingerly tore open the crinkly paper and smelled the pie shell. Memories of childhood came rushing back.


With anticipation, I broke the pie apart to reveal the familiar sight of smooth chocolate pudding inside.


I took the first magnificent bite and... nearly gagged on how sweet the thing was. (Wrrrrrrkkkk! The needle comes off the record!) Can I just say, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that the nation has been thrown into a sugar shortage since production of these things started up again. I imagine we’ll soon be rationing like during WWII. I took a second bite, because I am stubborn and clearly insane, and I had to spit it out.

The sad truth is some things are better left in your childhood. Orange drink, Spaghetti-Os, The Love Boat. These are all better enjoyed through hazy reminiscences than up close. (Trust me, Gopher was not that cute.) The Hostess Pudding Pie is no different. It ages about as well as a beach party movie. You’re better off with a Debbie Cake.

April Fool's!

Today at work, a friend of mine was given a phone message instructing him to return the call of a Mr. Lyon. When he called the number, he got the Pittsburgh Zoo. I have been cackling like a mad person all day long over that.

Then I told him I had a message for him from a Mr. Panda Bear.

And that pretty much tells you all you need to know about me.