Archive for September, 2004

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In A Box

If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

In fact, in your case, I’d say that your best bet would be just not to say anything at all, period.
Don’t worry, though. There’s good money to be had in the mime business.
Hey, now you’re in a box. Try to get out, little mime. Just you try.

Fun With Pouches

Do you know what happens when you try to cross a duck-billed platypus and a kangaroo?

(Pause for effect.)

Nothing but a couple of infuriated marsupials and severe internal bleeding.
I would recommend just gluing a duckbill onto the kangaroo and calling it a day. I hope this teaches as all an important lesson: namely, that “The Infuriated Marsupials” would make an awesome band name. Probably a heavy metal klezmer band, or something.

(Oh, and yes, the band-name line was a shameless Dave Barry reference. Whatcha gonna do about it?)

Bending Space-Time

You know how people set their clocks fast on the theory that they’ll be on time for classes and meetings? Well, I took that theory to its logical conclusion. To make a long story short, there’s a rip in space-time in my closet, some guy with a ray gun is using my bathroom, and I think the apocalypse is next Tuesday.

Lemon Drops

If all the raindrops were lemon drops and gumdrops, wouldn’t they end up taking someone’s eye out? I mean have you seen the speeds a gumdrop can reach in freefall? And don’t even ask about the lemon drops.

Now if all the raindrops were cow flops and pig slop, then…well, it wouldn’t be much better. In fact, it would likely be worse. But I would laugh at the people outside. And that makes it all worth it.

Stanford Favorite & Damn Communist Space Dogs

I know, I know. A new post was long overdue. So sue me. Not for real.

I suppose I should break this into two posts, but I doubt that most people will realize that there are two new ones at once. So, first is this: My brother Noam is a grad student in English literature at Stanford University, and somehow, he finds me funny. So he showed a post or two to his friends out in Palo Alto, CA. He recently told me:

Noam: everyone i know loved the albert thing
Noam: the english department at stanford university now acknowledges you as one of the funniest people they’ve ever read

(These are direct quotes, with only his screenname changed to protect him from stalkers and the Mafia.)

So while I’m not sure what this says about the impending downfall of Western civilization, it does give me a huge ego trip. And when you come right down to it, that’s what really matters, right?

And here’s post number two:

I would like to share a brief snippet of my oh-so-interesting life with you lesser mortals. I hope you can handle it. A couple nights ago, I was talking to my roommate Elie about, um, I actually think it was interior design. Anyway, the conversation went, more or less, like this:

ME: We should put up paper on the walls so we can write on them.

ELIE: No. It’s a good idea in theory, but it won’t work. Like Communism.

ME: Well, Communism had eighty years before it failed. Can’t you give this a chance, too?

ELIE: Communism had eighty years, and look at what happened!

ME: What do you mean? They sent a dog into space. That’s one less dog we have to worry about here.

ELIE: I don’t like dogs either, but-

ME: Then again, if the space dogs come back and attack, it might be bad. So we aren’t putting up the paper, then?

ELIE: Damn Communist space dogs.