Three quick things. First off, I’ve decided to hold off on picking the final names for the dead Titanic-esque mice until they arrive and I can get to know their personalities better, but the randomly selected winner of an autographed copy of my book is Christine. (Check your email, Christine.)
Secondly, I am very picky about putting ads on my blog which is why I can’t afford a swimming pool. It’s also why I have a special note on my advertising page telling people that pretty much I don’t review anything except taxidermied animals in people clothes. That’s why I thought it was so brilliant when I got an email from Blogologues (a live theater event that uses awesome blog post as scripts) telling me that they were sending me info about their latest play (which opens this Friday) STUFFED IN THE ARMS OF AN ANTIQUE ALLIGATOR WEARING A BASEBALL UNIFORM. I immediately promised them a free link simply based on their awesomeness. Even more fantastically, the alligator should have arrived yesterday but is MIA, which I can only imagine means that it has been mistakenly delivered to the house of some unsuspecting person who just opened a dead alligator dressed for a ball game. Which is actually almost better than me getting it myself. Victor agrees. Mostly because we’re running out of shelf room for taxidermied alligators in people clothes. Because we need more shelves.
I do, however, have a picture of the errant crocodile who is no doubt freaking the hell out of someone in Texas:
Thirdly, a few months ago I made a short children’s poem to explain to kids how to curse properly. It’s called “Everyone Says Fuck Off” and it’s a lot like “Everybody Poops” but with less poop and more profanity. My brilliant friend Lori Henriques heard it and decided it needed to be set to music and so (with the help of Peter Suk) she pounded this one out.
So without further ado, Everyone Says Fuck Off:
Everyone Says Fuck Off (Plug in your headphones and click the link.)
UPDATED: Guess what my baffled neighbor just brought me? Victor says this is exactly why we never get invited to neighborhood barbecues. I say that I wouldn’t want to share hot dogs with someone who opens packages addressed to me. In her defense though, she was properly punished for her federally-illegal curiosity.
