This year for Halloween, I'm gonna be something really scary.

Like hunger, cruelty to animals, or cancer and other catastrophic diseases.

What been going on lately? Is everyone frightened enough by the man-eating, blood-thirsty, and bad-breathed economy? "The stock market is crazy, gas prices are nuts, the holidays are coming, I don't know who to vote for, 'I can see Russia from my house!', I think I pulled a muscle in my head..."

I know how you feel. But you know how I feel? Like doing something. Call it fighting back, call it investing, just call it. You want to invest in something that's a sure bet in this crazy, mixed-up world, spinning out of control, and with cellulite? Donate to a good charity.

That's just what I think, because I know for a fact research and funds used properly can help expose all the monsters and boogiemen under the beds, hanging out under there with those scary tumor-bunnies, in the evil Darkened Closet of Poverty and Hunger. Boo!

This month (more like a week then I'll get bored) in honor of All Things Scary, I'll highlight some of the charitable cause sites I've found along the way. Gimme more if you've got 'em. And, no money? No problem. Most places also accept donations of time. For example, try freerice.com. It's addictive, just be smart. It's fun. Then pass it around. Yes, again.

Oh c'mon. You care. You know you do. That's why I like you. By all means, don't be scared -- enjoy, and enjoy putting your money into something with a real pay-off.

Dang you, Milky Way! I got an 8 out of 10.

And that says a lot about me, I suppose, that I probably shouldn't say out loud.

But who are we all kidding? Come on, my little Target shoppers, you know you're dying to take mentalfloss.com's The Daily Lunchtime Quiz, too.

Tonight's Radio Gala brought to you by the makers of Secret, Vanilla Chai Anti-Perspirant.

Setting: two co-working women-types, a secretary pool, circa 1942, complete with ambient sounds of office work, typewriter bells dinging over the workaday office chatter...


Bettie: G'morning, Mister Fleischman! Right up with that coffee, black with two sugars, Mr. Fleischman?

Jane: Mmm, Bettie, isn't it just wonndaful? That aroma--I think it's freshly baked cinnamon buns.

Bettie: Nope.

Jane (perplexed): Hot-from-the-oven Snickerdoodles?

Bettie (her pearly-white smile has turned devilishly demure): 'Fraid not, Jane!

Jane: Bettie! What gives! You know darn well I know my Snickerdoodles, gal--

Bettie (laughs coyly): Why, no Jane, don't be a dope. It's just the scent of my deodorant failing! Well, not quite--not with MY secret.

Jane (in gleeful astonishment): Say, wisegirl, are you pullin' my leg...

Bettie (with newfangled confidence): No, you silly, stupid fool! It's a brand new product from Mobil Oil, Gas, Industrial Makeup and Baby Pablum Company--it's Secret, Vanilla Chai Anti-Perspirant and Deodorant. Makes a girl nicer with that extra bit of spice...er...

Jane (productively surprised): Does it work?

Bettie: Would I, would I! ...I mean, why yes, Jane, it's simply marrrrvelous--it's the brand new deodorant that "makes that stink think twice!" It's what every working girl needs to get ahead in the workplace--the smell of hot griddle cakes with maple syrup, right from her dress shields. Heavens, I used to be the Smelle of the Ball with my old cream creosote-formula deodorant. But now with Secret, when I get hot, the Apple Pie ala Mode is what's what --with extra cinnamon! This new formula's divine, with just a touch of titrate aluminum steroid nitrate oxide phosphorusmasm, guaranteed not to give you Old Timer's Disease.

Jane: Don't you mean Alzheimer's Disease, Bettie?

Bettie: ...Corduroy...!

Bob (passing by, off to a very important business meeting with more men): 'Mornin', ladies! Say--do I smell homemade biscuits and molasses??

Jane (enviously rolling her eyes skyward): Oh, it's homemade alright, Bob.

Bettie (leans into Jane and winks): Remember, kid, shhhhhhhh--Vanilla Chai for women--it's our little Secret!

Bob (sidles back by, unintelligible mannish report in-hand): Say, Bettie, who's up for (sniiffffff) ooohoo-hoo, a White Russian or two, after 5 say, and maybe a little promotion?...?

Bettie (with swelling confidence): Why yes, Bob, I do have a few reports I have been working on late, I'd just love to show you my charts, they're cross-stitched!

Organ music up and underneath through 'til end:
ANNCR: ...while poor Jane was sent to the rendering factory instead where her bones were crushed into powder and used to manufacture mucilage glue and Knox gelatin packets--which are makes nails stronger than strong, gals!

Try Secret Vanilla Chai Anti-Perspirant and Deodorant. "If the smeller's the feller, then Vaniller's the killer."

Brought to you by Mobil Oil, Gas, Industrial Makeup and Baby Pablum Company. We light up the world, and set you aglow.

Product Review in :02

It's good. Get it.
Tomorrow's Review: Secret's Vanilla Chai Anti-perspirant.

Admit it. I know you're just waiting breathlessly for that one.

Is this thing on?

Oh hey it is. And you're still around? Well. Alright then. Thank you.

Somebody screw in one of those new curly-looking lightbulbs, and dust off that beanbag in the corner. Switch on the lava lamp, and open a window. Let me see what I can find...what's been going on...

Besides the "kid with a tail" video on YouTube?

Besides having Celebrity-ish Dreams almost every night starring John Cusack, Stephen Merchant, William Shatner, and a few other random ones I've forgotten by now?

Besides not checking my email...?

Besides stepping on my last, remaining pair of glasses, squinting a lot, watching the bad cat pop my third Pilates ball chair, spending way too much time at agkidzone and KEWLopolis watching Sushi Pack and Tinpo, crawling into bed every night with an abnormal amount of anticipated delight by the promise of sleeping way beyond normal limits, exhuming myself from the parallel universe in the morning with a less-than-Zen-like ritual involving a one-hour struggle beginning every 5:55 a.m., drinking copious amounts of Monster Lo-Carb Hi-Energy without measured results...besides dreaming away over several mind-blasting, soul-altering, culturally exorbitant, lush trips to The Excelsior Hotel Ernst in Cologne, you know, right across the street from the Gothic Cathedral with its artwork made of human bones, all down the way from a pristine stainless-steel and glass chocolate factory and glittering glockenspiel...besides rewatching every episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia twice...

Besides somehow, developing two unexplained and undesirable habits of chewing on Atomic Fireballs all day and frozen Trolli gummi bears at night?

Not much else outside of the set normal range. But I have cut my trips to the Ghetto Kroger in half, which is the only thing I could complain about (besides not being able to hang with Kevin at the art gallery)--about not cooking as much as I want to lately. As Principal Executive Pot-Licker and Empty Plate Inspector, the dog's fairly shaken up by that sad development, too. Like the rest of it, I'm pulling up the proverbial bootstraps and getting back on that horse.

Not that you should ever really mention "cooking" and "horses" in the same sentence, unless you're in an upscale, 5-star restaurant on a private vineyard in France.

What else has been going on...oh, the usual stuff like Googie got pancreatitis and the new nickname, "Baby Grand", based on his vet bill. But hey, you know I'd get an extra job doing something useless like delivering phone books or working at an ad agency in Memphis to keep his motor running smoothly. But I'd get fired because I'd just take all the phone books to the recycling bin instead.

Aw, you know me, you really know me.

What else has happened...well, damn near a lot of things. If you feel like hanging out for awhile, I need to scribble here again in the margins to myself, in between the sleeping part, the working at a place I absolutely love part with people I really love more part, but missing my mother back home part, not reading enough real books part, but along the way finding enough junk online to keep us all busy until all the beanbags go flat...part.

Oh hey, in front of me and not in a Celebrity-ish Dream: honk if you saw Marlo Thomas the other day. Just me then? Oddly enough, after that, everything seemed back to normal.

Be back soon, with photos. No, really.

Because it's the best news ever.

Not the part where they stuffed him in a freezer, but the part where they found a Bigfoot (or what's left of him) somewhere near the Appalachians. Yes, sadly the suburban sprawl has sent raccoons into all of our neighborhoods. But a Bigfoot? Man, I sure hope so. I will be the first one to start up my own Bigfoot Ranch and Petting Zoo franchise. Free admission to any Loch Ness Monster, Narwhales or Unicorns.

You always think I'm kidding!

Three things you should never do:

1. Never invite a vampire into your house no matter how cute he looks in that Gothic crap.

2. Never say "Beetlejuice" three times in a row.

3. Never yell "Hey Kool-Aid!" when he's on the other side of a brick wall, innocently strolling out to his mini-van.

I'm Going to Graceland.

Not really, not today. But yesterday, I did drive past by it with Ralphieboy. We went to my first quincentaro, hopefully the first of a few more. Loved it mucho. Life-changing fun. Amé las festividades tanto. No, realmente.

"Don't try this at home." Yeah, right.

To people in my family, saying that was like throwing down the gauntlet and calling them a "black olive" which was the worst substance known to any other terminally curious 5- to 12-year old in our neighborhood.




In the spirit of research, Marshmallow Peeps® have been microwaved, Wint-o-Green LifeSavers®, despite the smell of BenGay, have been crunched heartily with open mouths in the mirrors of darkened bathrooms, Purina® Beggin' Strips have been tasted and deemed "Less Than Bacon-Tasting" to human standards. And we won't mention the Unfortunate Batch of Pregnant Minnows Incident when I was 6 years old which leaves me full of regret to this day, but somehow wiser with a completely obvious lesson and unpublishable results gleaned at the expense of a few heroic bait fish.

All in the name of science and a perceived dare.

Today, I honor my Aunt Sissy by dedicating this ground-blending site to my aunt and her inquisitive, experimental nature - especially the part that made her throw that old computer into the trashfire to get rid of it, why not. Even though she fell and broke her arm right after the toss, I just thank God didn't toss in the monitor and thank the heavens she is still alive to tell the story.

(xox to you, Sissy. ps: my favorite so far is the glowstick smoothie blend.)

Bigfoot. Versus. Clifton.

My tweeters flew away but check out my new Woofers.

Bigfoot vs. Abe Lincoln? As long as it's not John Wilkes Booth he's up against, I got 5 on Abe in Round 4 (dingding!).

Snake handling is dangerous enough. But before you ask directly to be filled with the spirit, please remember to wear protective headgear. Seriously.

Speaking of, how about Godzilla vs the Tentacled Building installation, somewhere in France, by two guys.


(By the way, including thumbnails for each link here would be nice, but man, who has the time. Already, I'm late for my 12:00 nap.)


Advertising: the dirty job that somebody has to do. Nah, They just make you think it has to be dirty to work. But in this case, it certainly helps.

Ne passez pas l'intro, si vous plait. Mailing Vert is friendlier than passing a note in French class, and good for the planet, too. For la explication en anglais, voila.

New interview at BBC 6 Music with Beck on his new album, "Modern Guilt". What you don't like Beck? Okay. I'm a loser, baby, so why don't you kill me.

I love the beautifully executed artistic aspect of this kinetic sculpture, and Not If But When I win the lottery, don't think I won't install a few of these around the indoor pools and heated natural mineral springs with adjacent sushi/sake bar run by my personal manservant named Clifton; but I just have to poke fun at my favorite of all messaging tags projected and floating in the background which we're all cozy with and I lovingly call the "Three. Stupid. Words." tagline.

Eight New Natural Wonders of the World listed, and once I win the lottery, I will add my mineral springs and Clifton to that list.

By now you can tell I only had one solid quarter on me today. Ideas for sale, fiddy-cents!





"Whaddya gonna do with all your pennies, Popeye?" Buy more gumballs, of course.