Frummies and Bears, why must you torment me so?

The Falcons are a good team. No one denies this. And yet once again, there were the Bears, with an opportunity to pull out a quality win. And there was Sulkypants, throwing the ball to the other team. Seriously, we could have just kept the Sex Cannon, and had a whole lot more fun, and more draft picks, and more of the sexy.

We've had years of ridiculous luck - 2003, when we had an actual streak of overtime victories via interceptions returned for TD's comes to mind. This is not that kind of year. Urlacher's out, Mike Brown is long gone, and some guy named Roach is playing in the middle. And where's Matt Forte? Can someone let him know that the season started? Because it's going to be a race to see who kills him first - Bears fans, or fantasy football players. Someone tried to convince me this year that Forte should have been drafted first overall, ahead of Adrian Peterson, or Peyton Manning, or Drew Brees. That person is now immersed in alcohol as he comes up with a way to tell his wife that they lost their life savings betting on a Bears running back. So good luck with that, buddy.

Have I ever told you why I hate frum Jews? Not all of them - there are at least 4 that I quite enjoy. But the rest are a big pain in my butt, and often capable of performing ridiculous acts of chillul Hashem - that would be besmirching G-d's name, and embarrassing the Jews, for those non-Ivrit speakers. 2 quick stories, all of which have happened in the last week:

1) We're looking to buy a house, because I want to have a lawn so I can yell at kids on my block who walk on my lawn, and I can say to them "hey! Get off my lawn! And go get a haircut, hippies!" Seriously, there are hippies everywhere in Pittsburgh.

Anyhoo, we found this house in a great location. Unfortunately, it's a complete dump, with wallpaper peeling off the walls, unfinished basement, a kitchen that looks like it was imported from the nearest crack house, and really, really ugly paint jobs in every bedroom. It's owned by a frum family with 5 kids and another on the way, and they have used that house, I mean in every way. But it's got potential, and a great back yard, and again, the location is fantastic.

So we go to make an offer. And we're working with an agent because, despite my experience as a real estate attorney, I don't actually know anything about buying a house. We give them a call to let them know to expect our offer, and they want to sit down with us first. We go to the house, and they proceed to try to talk us out of using an agent. "What do you need an agent for?" the husband says. Which, fine, I understand they don't want to add to the cost of the transaction, and I appreciate that.

But then, he says "which shul do you go to? Oh, I know so-and-so there, we're very close! Why don't we just work this out, the two of us?" See, because I was wearing a kippah, so obviously I don't need any sort of real process. In fact, why don't we just knock back some Slivovitz after kiddush, and we can bang it out before Mincha? Who needs an appraiser, or an inspection? Not us, because we're all Jews here, right?

False. We offered 40,000 under asking price, because when you're trying to sell your house for twice what you bought it for less than 5 years after you bought it, and it's blatantly clear you didn't put any money into it, then you don't get the courtesy of a real offer. Ass.

2) Every year, Maccabi Tel Aviv plays an exhibition basketball game at Madison Square Garden against the Knicks, as a fundraiser for Migdal Ohr, an Israeli orphanage. And it's great, and lots of Jews go, and Maccabi always loses.

Evidently this year, though, the coach wasn't ok with losing. In fact, he had some issues with the way the refs were calling the game, and they T'd him up, and ejected him. Usually, coaches in that situation will, you know, be ejected.

But not Pini, no sirreebob. He decides this doesn't really apply to him. He's not going anywhere. Security, the refs - no one can convince him. Finally, Rabbi Grossman, head of the orphanage, comes down out of the stands. Great! The rabbi will be the voice of reason.

Not quite. And maybe I should be more upset with Gershon than I should with the rabbi, because let's be honest, Gershon was a lot more embarrassing to the Jews than the rabbi was. But to me, the rabbi's actions were prime examples of what some rabbis do when confronted with non-Jewish rules: they try to explain why Jews aren't subject to those rules. Whether it's tax laws, or child abuse, or keeping Shabbos instead of rioting about a parking lot, or assaulting women in pants, or making women sit in the back of the bus (if they're allowed on the bus at all), or exploiting illegal immigrants to overcharge for kosher meat, there has been a really awkward and embarrassing string of rabbinic activity in the last year or so.

Maybe it wasn't fair to preface this by saying how much I hate frum Jews. Instead, I'll say that I really hate the disturbing absence of holiness in our religious leadership, and fear for the future of religious Judaism.

Oh, and that Pini Gershon is a douchebag.

And...we're back

The holidays are over, finally. And no, that's not an excuse for not writing more. You know what's great, though? I don't have to apologize - thanks to Yom Kippur, I'm clean as a whistle (which, by the way, makes no sense at all, if you think about it), so you can kiss my blogger ass.

No, that's the escape key. Wait, if you just mo- no, that' s my elbow. Turn ar- why is your foot there? It's just - if you'll stop - forget it. Just lean toward your monitor, and kiss the screen, and imagine my ass.

You're welcome.

Anyhoo, there was some crazy nonsense this past week. First, this happened:



And I have to say, it was GLORIOUS. We didn't get actual shots of the finished product because you know, holy Sabbath and all, but all the layers were there, and the stuffing was moist and delicious, and it was just...fantastic. I'm very happy to have done it, and now I'll probably never do it again. What a pain in the ass. Maybe for Child's wedding, if he happens to marry a vegetarian whose best friend growing up was a little duckling named Nibbles. That would be worth it, just to see if she laughs or cries.

Then, Neckbeard scares the birds living under his chin by throwing for over 300 yards against the Patriots, of all teams. What, exactly, is going on in Denver? Is it really just the change from Bernie Berrian, Bobby Wade and Desmond Clark to Brandon Marshall and Eddie Royal? Probably. It could also have something to do with that whole offensive line thing, but what do I know.

And finally, Cedric Benson - who, admit it, you all thought you tossed him some pocket change outside the supermarket last week - broke the Ravens' streak of not allowing a 100-yard rusher at 39 games.

CEDRIC! BENSON! I know, right? Left is right, up is down, and people who haven't done really anything are winning Nobel Peace Prizes.

Yeah, about that...they know he's not Morgan Freeman, right? Peace really had a crappy year for them to honor Obama. And I love the guy! Rush Limbaugh's head would have popped right off when he heard the news, if hadn't already sold it for Vicodin. Glenn Beck wept for days and days, gnashing his teeth and doing that whole bug-eyed thing. But Jebus, that was too much. Oh those Europeans, so silly, so smelly.

Jeff Reed you're my hero!

I have to admit, I was worried.

Living in Pittsburgh, I am awash in Steeler fanaticism. Everyone, from checkout ladies to Catholic priests, wears a Steelers shirt the Friday before games. And they are not afraid to shout out at random cars "LET'S GO stilLERS!!" which is unnerving if you're trying not to run people over. So forgive me if I was a bit worried about the Bears having to play what I assumed to be an unstoppable juggernaut. After all, the Steelers came back and beat the Titans the week before, right? And the Titans are really good, right? Add to that all those Sulkypants interceptions against the Packers, and Urlacher's absence, and you've got what looked to be a recipe for disaster.

But I forgot something.

On Rosh Hashannah I pray. I pray HARD. Because if you only go to shul once a week, and spending most of those hours mentally undressing lady parishioners, you have to use the High Holy Days to build up some credit. And I took a bunch of crap from my in-laws about the impending blowout, so I was feeling especially uneasy about hearing how the Bears blew it for the next three years, until the two teams play again. So I used my time with the Lord to pray for a victory.

Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Oh Lord, Ruler of the Universe, great, mighty, and possessing fantastic mystical superpowers, please hear my prayer.

G-d: Yep, you've got the G-Man on the telephono.

Me: King of kings, verily I seek your beneficence.

G-d: Righto. What can I do you for, brosephus?

Me: Please guide the Chicago Bears to victory this very day against the Pittsburgh Steelers.

G-d: Dude, it's totally Rosh Hashish. You sure you want to use your lifeline on this? Because I gotta tell ya, you skate on thin ice as it is. You may need that favor for, oh, I don't know, that time in May when you lose your wallet at the Pirates game.

Me: I didn't lose my wallet at the Pirates game.

G-d: Man, you're talking to the Master of Disaster! Literally! You think I give a hoohaa about your idea of time? I'm talking NEXT May. The future, mano e mano. I totally blew your mind just now, didn't I?

Me: Truly I am in awe.

G-d: Bet your ass. So, what's the dilly-yo?

Me: I'm still going to have to pray for the Bears to whup the Steelers this afternoon.

G-d: Ya, I'm gonna say...nay. Sorry, bra.

Me: Come on! Just do me this one solid and I'll be all about the praising and the supplications this year.

G-d: You do realize I can tell when you're lying, right? Look, I'm not saying the Bears will lose, I'm just saying it won't be a blowout.

Me: I don't care. I just want Child to understand the glory of rooting for the Bears.

G-d: Right. I don't think you have to worry about that one being a football fan.

Me: What's that?

G-d: Uh, nothing. Forget it. So, one Bears victory, coming right up. Ooh, that reminds me about something I owe Jeff Reed...

Me: Oh, and can you throw in a Packers loss? A loss at home to the Bengals would be hilarious!

G-d: No problem, I fucking hate that team. Fat bastards, the lot of them. Plus, did you know that Aaron Rogers has a two inch penis? True story.

So there you have it. G-d loves the Fancypants, and hates Jeff Reed. Which is good enough for me. Oh, and

OK, fine: Jay Cutler, aka Crybaby Sulkypants, also played an instrumental role by taking what the defense gave him, and throwing 2 touchdown passes. Kudos, sir.

Cookie dough ain't just for dumped, weepy chicks anymore

Ordinarily, the Fancy Pants dining room table is chock full of goodies after Purim. Israeli chocolates, unidentifiable candies, and hamentaschen of all levels of quality.

Most of this is thorough unimpressive to me. I 'm not a big dessert or snack person. What I like, I love, but if it's not in that narrow category, I can do without.

So imagine my shock and glee when I open up one of the bags...and therein lay a small plastic container of chocolate chip cookie dough. Not unnecessarily roasted, not surrounded by superfluous vanilla ice cream, just straight up dough, in a cup. The only improvement would have been if it had come in a cone, like the aforementioned iced cream, or like ground meats should be.

I'll explain: I believe the overheating of food into some sort of crispy or chewy new food is a surrender to convention, and a waste of precious time and fossil fuels. Steak tartare, sushi, dough of any kind - these are my basic food groups. I was raised to chase my roast beef down and pin it to my plate before I was able to eat it, because it was still screaming for help. I was raised to mock those who fretted about uncooked meats and eggs, to wonder what it is an oven was for other than storing dishes.

I spent months eating brownie batter - it's even my favorite ice cream. My favorite dessert? Chocolate pie, which is not cooked at all but refrigerated, raw eggs notwithstanding. Second favorite? Wife's mundels, which aren't double-baked like mundel bread. They're not even fully single-baked. The official term is NFC - Not Fully Cooked. Baked just long enough for the chocolate chips to get all gooey and melty.

If you mention nuts or fruit, you can get up and walk away.

There's a new standard for shalach manos. Take your tiny liquor bottles, your whimsical and poorly-structured Purim poems, your fresh-baked whatsnot. Just give me some flour, some raw eggs, some sugar, some vanilla, and mush it up and shove it under my door.

For those of you who bake your own fortune cookies, or send entire meals (spaghetti, anyone?), you're in a nutty class all by yourselves. But you know what would really put you over the top? Some challah dough in a single-serving tupperware. You'd have my undying gratitude.

What did WE send, you ask? Did we go all out, and craft some clever package neatly wrapped and zanily captioned? No, because the Fancy Pants are fancy, but we are also quite lazy. So no food for anyone. Sorry. Maybe if more of you provided some raw stuff, we'd be more inclined to return the favor.

And don't come with that "raw vegetable" crap. That would result in obnoxious retribution of a completely immature nature. So save yourself some time and aggravation, and give us a box of cake mix, a couple of eggs, and some oil, and get out of our way.

Oh, in case you were curious, Child was James Bond.

Why is everyone trying to kill my Judaism?

Jews are under attack from all sides, at all times. Whether it's Nazi zombies, or zombie Nazis, or Hugo Chavez and his Venezuelan Anti-Semite Tumblers, or the Inquisition -



there's always someone out to get us Chosen folk.

Recently, though, there have been slings and arrows from unlikely places, namely: Amazon.com, and the rabbi at my synagogue.

Amazon, a glorious Eden of cheap books and the most random crap available for purchase outside a flea market, has come out with Kindle 2: The Forest Strikes Back.
The whole "library in a tablet" thing is fantastic, six days a week. But on the holy Sabbath, when I'm trying to avoid having an Important Conversation with Wife, or trying to be distant to Child so he'll learn to constantly strive for my approval and therefore go on to become wildly rich and successful, I need to read books. And since G-d Himself banned electricity ("Thou shalt not flip the light switch." "Lord, what's a light switch?" "Silence, heretics! Go get Me some more veal!") I can't be reading some computer thingy on Saturdays.

"But what about the trees, and the environment? We need to love Mother Earth!" Ordinarily, yes. But Reading Is Fundamental, or do you hate literacy as much as you hate G-d?

So Purim is coming up. It's a very spiritual holiday, filled with laughter and joy and binge drinking. It's like Halloween and fraternity rush week all rolled into a tidy vomit-filled package. I have the additional pleasure of speaking fantastically inappropriate truths while I'm drunk.

"Wait wait wait. You are SO in a relationship. He just happens to be marrying your suitemate in the summer. But you've got plenty of time before then."

And that's the one I can remember. Imagine the hilarity of the zingers I've forgotten!

Well the rabbi at my shul wants to take that all away. He's very much against all drinking on Purim, not just the excess. This, despite the Talmudic obligation, and the plethora of other sages who say that even if you don't get drunk, you should have a little, you know, just to ease the pain.

But no, not at my shul. This is the pull quote from the e-mail bulletin: "Please remember that ________ is alcohol-free on Purim and is always smoke-free. That includes inside the building and anywhere on the grounds. Anyone found violating that policy will be escorted out of the building and off the grounds by the security staff."

First of all, there is no "security staff." There's the rabbi, and the assistant rabbi, and some larger high school kids. Second, alcohol-free?? So all the kiddush wine, and the kiddush club whiskey and vodka stash, that's all being poured out on the street, Elliot Ness-style, right before Purim? I think not. Let's not be reactionary here. Just step away from the bottles, and go read about kinky Esther and her feminine wiles.

Don't be that guy.

I always learn something new around holiday season. Last year it was "leaving your Hanukkah candles in front of your turbo-jet heater will not only blow them out, it may end up causing your rug to catch on fire."

The year before that, it was "always know your audience before you make a joke about Jesus" (My favorite? Jesus walks into a hotel with 2 planks of wood and some nails. He says to the receptionist, "can you put me up for the night?").

This year it was all about holiday parties. As a Jewish Communal Professional, and the husband of a liberated, working lady, I attended many holiday parties. Some where cheesy, JCC-based affairs where kids drew horribly on their own faces to win oily treats. Others were formal dinners for day schools, who tried valiantly to convince their parents and donors that everything was ok while we ignored the asbestos dropping out of the ceiling and into our salads. I'm totally sending Child there - he needs immunities, and we're supposed to expose him to stuff like chickenpox. Asbestos is the same thing, right? Just like mercury, and lead, and whatnot?

But in other settings, "holiday party" is a euphemism for "Christmas party." Don't patronize me, Christian coworkers. If I'm going to a party with a gigantic pine tree shoved into the corner of a living room, and there are stockings on the mantel, and red and green tissue paper strung up all over the place, and fat bearded guys in Coca-Cola red ho-ho-ho-ing over the Ipod, then even I know it's Christmas time.



Here then, are some lessons I learned while attending Wife's office "holiday that celebrates Christian traditions and Jesus" party:

- if you're going to make jokes about Christmas creep, don't wear a kippah.

- if you're going to wear a kippah, don't go around demanding gifts in Jesus' honor. "What, I'm Jewish, he was Jewish, we're like the same person!" doesn't work. Even if you've grown out a beard, and are wearing a robe and sandals. Even if you made your own crown of thorns. If you turn water into wine, then you should at least get first crack at the Christmas tree cookies.

- Don't refer to the holiday as Xmas. It's weak. And it makes baby Jesus cry.

- Tell funny stories about your spouse to her/his coworkers, but not the one about how she stripped her way through PT school. Because some people will remember that gem through their drunken haze, and will ask her about it at work. Which segues nicely to...

- Don't be the first one at the party to get drunk.

- Don't be the first person to take your pants off.

- Don't be the first person to suggest swirling some Ecstacy into the punch and "letting nature take its sexy, sexy course."

- Always hold on to the car keys. That way, no matter what you do, even if you get locked out of the house, you can sleep in the car.

- Don't compare male PTs to nurses. They don't appreciate that.

- Don't compare male nurses to dainty ladies. They have no problem hurting you in front of your spouse.

- Always thank the host. Especially if she's your spouse's boss. And she was nice enough to help you retrieve your pants from the bushes out front.

- If there is a Yankee swap, hold off on loudly mocking the scarf that looks like it was knitted by a blind arthritic thumbless freak. It was probably made by a coworker.

- If you don't like what your spouse ended up with at the end of Yankee swap, don't challenge the male nurse to a wrestling match for the Barnes & Noble gift card. You will lose.

- If you do take your pants off, remember to wear underwear. Ideally not a leopard print thong.

I found these lessons to be useful. If you feel they will ruin your good time, feel free to ignore them. Just remember: flowers can only make up for so much. Ignore enough of those rules, and you may have to shell out for jewelry. Maybe even real gold.

A quick update on the No Fear Player of 2008 - Old Rambling Man made a good case (albeit not in the Comments) for honoring Congress, but I don't like handing out awards to multiple people - trophies are expensive, and I'm trying to save up for some real jewelry for Wife so I don't have to sleep in the car anymore.

So your No Fear Player of 2008 is... Sarah Palin! I have to say, I'm giving this to her in honor of her becoming a grandma, and also because I appreciate her efforts in setting back the Republican Party a good 12 years. So thanks, Sarah! Good luck with the whole Alaska thing.

NFPOTY 2008

There was some serious competition for this year's No Fear Player. And unlike last year, where OJ conquered the hill of douchebags in September with his audacious kidnapping and grand larceny, this one has come down to the wire.

Here then, are the nominees:

Gov. Sarah Palin (R-AK) -
- Helped the Republican establishment sink John McCain's Presidential bid;
- Spent upwards of $150,000 in public funds on clothes for herself and her family in less than a month;
- Repeatedly offended the letter "g" by excluding it from its rightful place at the end of words;
- Caused Tina Fey to have a serious identity crisis;
- Brazenly talked up abstenance-only sex education while her daughter was getting nailed by Levi Johnston;
- Used her developmentally disabled baby as a political prop.

CEOs Rick Wagoner of GM, Alan Mulally of Ford, and Robert Nardelli of Chrysler -
- killed the electric car;
- made really crappy, unreliable, inefficient, gigantic cars and trucks, allowing generations of small-penised men to feel good about themselves. Well, maybe that's not the worst thing;
- demanded a bailout from the federal government without any sort of plan to make their companies better;
- Flew in separate private jets to their first senate hearing to request money because they "don't have any;"
- made Michiganders look to their 3-9 Wolverines and their 0-14 Lions for comfort.
- turned Detroit from a decrepit, depressing city with no future into a decrepit, depressing city with no future.

AIG CEO Edward Liddy -
- took $150 billion in taxpayer money, used it to wipe his ass;
- after receiving all that money for financial assistance, then took his executives for spa junkets and massages. Of course, he shelled out extra for the happy endings;
- after getting caught on camera on one of said junkets, went back to the U.S. senate and requested more bailout money. Which he received;
- Got so much money so easily from the federal government that Wagoner, Mulally and Nardelli thought they for sure deserved some of that cheese.

And finally, Mr. Bernard Madoff -
- killed Jewish philanthropy;
- dug it up, raped it, and killed Jewish philanthropy again;
- stole $50 billion from individuals, corporations, and charities;
- turned the Palm Beach Country Club into a den of greed and hubris, instead of the den of elitism and snobbery it had once been;
- Together with Jack Abramoff, made Jewish non-profits long for the days of Michael Milken and Ivan Boesky (look them up, and reminisce about a time when financial malfeasance was nice and comprehensible);
- defrauded the nice little old ladies of Hadassah out of $90 million;
- caused 2 family charitable foundations to shut their doors, and renege on millions in committed grants.

Personally, as a Jewish Communal Professional, I say Madoff. But, as an American Taxpayer, I could easily see Liddy or the Detroit Three winning. I could also include Bob Babich, who has turned a once-mighty Chicago Bears defense into a toothless, blitzing-addicted paper tig- um, bear, but that might be a little too petty for this year.

The winner will be announced as soon as I blog again, because I trust very few of my 4 readers to vote, and also because I'm tempting you with an unusually quick follow-up post. So look out for that.

Do you know where I can get a hot beef injection, now that Iowa is closed for kosher business?

Best Kosher? Gone.

I will forever miss those fantastic bagel dogs and mini corn dogs. Now I'll probably live till I'm 95. What the hell am I supposed to do with those extra years? I should probably stop wasting my money on M.U.S.C.L.E. toys.

Goddamn the Rubashkin family. First they make me care how cows die. Now they interfere with my meat intake. What's next, I'm going to start eating more salad because I find out that beef isn't healthy? I should say not. This is America, not Holland. Stupid Dutch people.

Not that Pittsburgh's got great meat anyway. I'm from the Midwest, where cows are robust but easily duped into being killed and chopped into cutlets. I lived in Chicago, where it's a rite of passage to befriend a calf, raise it as part of your family, and then slaughter it and eat it raw. Because they're committed to the carnivorous lifestyle. And because if they want to catch up to Milwaukee in the percentage of morbidly obese adults, they'll have to suck down more Polish Sausage.

Even when I lived in Boston meat was decent. Romanian pastrami was made by the local butcher, who flew in tiny Romanian grandmas to properly spice the meat, and paid them in calls from their grandchildren and shelled pistachios.

But here, the meat sucks. And it sucked before the whole Agriprocessors embarrassment. And it will continue to suck until they admit that Pittsburgh is not, in fact, a mid-Atlantic city, whatever that means. It's a Midwest town, complete with a stagnant economy, declining population, and tons of fat, cigarette-smoking children. Revel in your middle America-ness! It will make everyone feel better. Maybe I'll even get some decent cold cuts soon.

A side note: I'm not sorry for the lack of postings recently. I have a real job, that requres actual brain power, so I can't make up the funny as often as you'd like. I am sorry, though for the lack of downright bizarre posting. There aren't enough weird people here, so I find my weirdness dissipating. It doesn't last all day anymore. So I'm working with a team of scientists to come up with some sort of solution until I sucker my whacko friends into moving here. I'll keep you posted on those results.

Also, the Bears suck in a completely uninteresting way.

Huts, Bears and election fatigue

I know, I'm sorry. I meant to post, but then I had this thing, and then my alarm was broken, and I got my foot caught in a bucket, and, well, anyway here I am.

This being the Jewish holiday season there just hasn't been all that much time to get my act together and write something, what with holidays coming every other day, and family flocking in and out. Rosh Hashannah - bam, the Balloon Man and his maiden fair. Succos comes, and the whole Fancy Pants Crew arrives, short one brother and one fiance and one dog. We really missed the dog (and of course the fiance and the brother. What are we, savages?).

Everyone has "their" holiday. Jesus has Christmas, seemingly everyone on my block has Halloween, Brother A shares Thanksgiving with the mighty Chocktaw tribe. Every Jewish mother has Passover, and if you want to share that's fine, just know that by taking their one week of glory you're breaking their heart, and the hearts of every mother who's ever slaved over a hot stove for the brisket you love so much. No, it's fine, take Passover. Here, here's my pancreas, do you want that too? How about my corneas, I hear they're worth lots of money in the black market.

Sorry, it's just that you can't channel a Jewish mother and stop after one guilt joke. You have to keep going until it's a whole thing.

Anyhoo, I've come to realize that Succos is my holiday. My family comes to stay with Wife Child and me, and every year I go out and I build a temporary structure with tarp and poles and bamboo mats. This year I had to get all new material, because for some reason I left my stuff in Boston, in Krazy's basement. Now he has two succahs. Surprise!

Let me say, for the record, that my succah this year was magnificent. The royal blue tarp set off the "holiday" lights perfectly, and the decorations purchased by the Old Rambling Man and the Mac Lady were beautifully done up. The weather held up, and our dining was phenomenal, if I do say so myself.

You may wonder, then, why I have provided no pictures of this glorious structure. That is an excellent question, reader. Give yourself a pat on the back! Round of applause for the astute reader! Huzzah! For s/he's a jolly good fellow, and all that!

Right. So the succah was blown over by a gigantic wolf looking for some piggies.

For all I know that could actually be the story, because I went out on Friday afternoon to set the table for the holy Sabbath, and lo and behold, the succah had fallen over. Tipped right over the table that Wife hates so much because it's huge and ugly. Yanked the nails right out of the 2X6's used as a base. Crushed all the pretty decorations. Sullied the royal blue tarp, which it turns out were actually quite effective sails. Next year we're entering the design into the America's Cup race.

So for next year I'll be taking suggestions on how to build my succah. And if you suggest a Kit, well then you can kiss my ass. I am a man: I have crafted the wheel, and invented fire. I can grow a mustache over the course of seven years. I can open jars with my bare hands.



So I'll use a kit for my next succah. Just as soon as I get my bikini line waxed.

Some of you may wonder why I didn't have anything rageful and hilarious to say about last week's Bears game, and Lovie Smith's squib kick decision. And I have to say, I was a little disappointed in myself for not taking the time. But then today happened, and now I feel like they're useful bookends on this season.

First, Neckbeard is playing way above his pay grade. WAY. What's with all the throwing? And the catching? And the yardage? Maybe it's secretly the Sex Cannon back there, but he's had a lobotomy, which since he's such an idiot in the first place it's actually made him a smarter player, and that's why whoever is under center is so good. Because otherwise, honestly, I have no idea what's going on.

Then there's the defense, the one that gave up the game-winning drive in Atlanta, and 41 points to the Vikings. Atlanta makes sense - three of our top four corners are injured (and yet somehow not Mike Brown, but it is still early in the season), and that's going to put a dent in anyone's Cover 2 defense. But 41 points to the Vikings? another 100+ yard game for Adrian Peterson the Greater? Not going to win many games like that, guys.

Finally, this is the second straight game that Kali Hester has gotten hurt on a return. He is our one reliable offensive threat, and yet Lovie keeps putting him in situations where he gets injured. How about larger pads? Or a gun, Last Boy Scout-style?



Either way, get him some blockers, man.

On a less funny note, I decided not to finish either of the books I was reading these past couple of weeks. Liberal Fascism and The Bulldozer and the Big Tent are so ridiculously biased and focused on right-left that they were equally insufferable. And that's sad, because I like Todd Gitlin. I think he's got great insight into modern media. But when it comes to politics he's just another Republican-hating liberal. Which is fine, I don't like them so much either, but I guess I'm just sick of all the election insanity. I mean, did you see the last debate? Obama is playing from so far ahead it will be a KKK miraKle if he loses. He knows it. McCain knows it. Hell, by this point I'm sure even Sarah Palin has figured it out, although her flow chart's probably written in crayon (sorry, forgot she's a lady. "Written in lipstick." Better?).

The whole debate was McCain trying with his wiggly eyebrows and awful, exaggerated facial expressions to get a rise out of Obama, and it didn't work at all. And do you know why? Because Obama is in the lead, and he's also not a whacked-out former POW who loses his temper at the drop of a hat.

Until, I don't know, there's some book that explains the current stock market train wreck in small words that I can understand, I'm not reading any books on politics. I'm going to read more books like Samedi the Deafness, with weird crazy plots with unreliable narrators who admit to being chronic liars. Fantastic and confusing. I have no idea if I "got it."

Happy 5769. Haha! That's funny, because 57 is a funny number. Because of Heinz, and ketchup, right? Ketchup! Hilarious.

"Sure, we know what you have to say, but what are other people saying about stuff?"

I ramble. It's genetic. So instead of another post all about me and what I think (although it is my blog, so if you're reading, it's your own fault for being interested in the weird things in my head), here are some things that other people think about things I'm interested in:

And no, I'm not going back to make that paragraph more comprehensible. Go diagram a sentence, and parse it out. First one to finish gets a second apple at snacktime.

After having very specific and one-sided opinions about the respective conventions, I wanted some hard numbers to feel good about myself and my politics. Thanks, Slate! Now I know for sure that Republicans don't care about the issues affecting real Americans!

For those who don't know, Michael Ian Black is funny. Even his permanent slot on the "I Love the ___'s" VH1 shows give me chuckles. So I RSS'd his blog so I could read his funniness, and I enjoyed it. His commenters are slobbering fans, and that's why I'm nixing it off the required reading, but if he is even talking about Sarah Palin, you know it's important. Or at least possibly hilarious.

Did you want to know if Sarah Palin hates Jews? Me too. Turns out she does. Hooray!

I know it's late, but FreeDarko - usually devoted to liberated fandom and the glory that is professional basketball - took some time off this offseason and wrote some posts about the respective conventions. Check this out about the RNC.
Sorry about the italics. I'm not emphasizing to the exclusion of other links, although I do love my NBA talk mixed with a fine philosophical paste. So maybe I am pushing this one harder. You will love FreeDarko! You will obey my dog!

Some of you may know Michael Ian Black from his work in Wet Hot American Summer. Others may know him from "The State" or "Stella" . And some of you may know him from "I Love the New Millennium"or some other crappy VH1 nonsense. Either way, he's also a blogger, just like me, this lady, and the fifteen homeless guys I pass on my way to "work."

His commenters are pathetic, his posts hilarious, and recently he's gotten political.

Finally, the story that has been circulating the internets for a few days now, and has made its way to me via several different conduits. The New York Post has the story, as does Jewlicious.

Basically, a professor from the Fancy Pants alma mater has gone from he to she. Surgically.

Some of you may know that the FPAM - hell, what's the difference: Yeshiva University - is a tad...religious. Or at least they like to frame their marketing materials that way. Thus there is something of a brouhaha over the matter, although there are currently two Fancy Pants siblings at the school, and there have been no rioting reports as of 7:30 pm EST.

I think this is fantastic. Aside from the discomfort foisted upon the rabbis, there is the exposure of a true alternative lifestyle to a bunch of sheltered kids who think being a transvestite is just something people do on Purim.

So glory be to you, Professor Ladin. Enjoy womanhood and the opportunity to fondle your own boobs whenever you want. I have no idea what the Jewish legal issues may be, but I bet they're a lot fuzzier than Rabbi Tendler wants them to be.

Day 1- I mean 2, in the uberhip Minnesota environs

I really did want to liveblog the RNC like I did with the DNC last week. Really. But Wife and I had to paint our new apartment. And unlike other couples, we don't just talk about improving our new digs - we actually go out and do it. Some people may sit down on a Sunday morning over their mimosas and New York Times and talk about colors and brushes and whatnot. Only the Pants Wearer and his intrepid spouse put family values and warm inviting color schemes over politics. Let's see my opponent do that.

I mean, if I had an opponent. Which, as far as I know, I do not. Except maybe our mailman. I hate that bastard.

Anyhoo, I figured today, for your enjoyment, I would un-liveblog last night. To maintain a dispassionate objectivity I have read exactly one article on the night's spectacle, and that only to learn who spoke: George Bush, Fred Thompson, and Joe Lieberman. Herewith, then, are my imagined reactions to the speeches they gave in my head.

President Bush:

I wonder how that little dialog went? "Mr. President, we'd love for you to give a little talk for the good people of Minnesota. But we're sure you're very busy, what with the whole last year in office-senioritis thing. So don't worry about actually coming to the convention."
"Are you sure? Cause after I play some golf in the morning, and write a stern e-mail to Russia about the treaty that they're not, you know, doing their thing for, holding up their end of the bargain, I'm pretty free for the next four months."
"No, sir, really. You don't even need to show up in the state. We'll set it up all nice for you in the White House, and we'll do a live feed."
"Sweet! I don't even have to put pants on! Can I mention how close John and I are now, after all that we've been through?"
"Maybe talk about the war, or Gustav, or something not related whatsoever to Senator McCain. In fact, if you don't mention a single thing on which the two of you agree, we'll send you a whole bag of Whatchmacallits."
"'Whaddayacallit? Whatchamacallit!' You know I love that commercial? Condi, call the FCC, I want to watch that fucker right now."

Does Bush even know who Sarah Palin is? Does John McCain? Because the Republican leadership has NO idea.

Fred Thompson:

experience, war hero, experience, POW, ready to lead, Sarah Palin, actual governing, corny Southern idiom, John McCain - Stallone+Chuck Norris+Ronald Reagan, war hero, experience, did you know that John McCain fought in Vietnam? experience, corny Southern joke. The end. As far as I know he didn't take a nap at the podium, so the speech was considered rousing and vigorous.

Joey Jewy Lieberman:

The one thing I did hear was that he spoke about loyalty. Excuse me while I clean up the vomit on my keyboard.
McCain is my friend. He didn't abandon me just because I support a wasteful war. In fact, that's WHY he likes me. Take that, Connecticut High quarterback Tad Whitestone. Try and give me a wedgie now, see how quickly Mr. War Hero Presidential Candidate kicks your ass.
Sarah Palin? Experience up the ass. Fights corruption once everyone hears that something is corrupt. That's efficient - if she'd gotten ahead of the people, no one would give her credit, except those who value ethics and integrity.
(Factual note - you know all that hullaballoo about Palin fighting against the Bridge to Nowhere? Yeah, she John Kerry'd that: she was for it before she was against it. But don't criticize her about that, it's in her past, and it's not nice to scold a lady. Cause if you remember, Sarah Palin is a woman. And women vote for women, right? Right? Because otherwise, why the hell is she on the ticket?)
Democrats don't love America as much as Republicans do. That's why I'll be a Republican as soon as they let me. I may have to convert, but whatever. It's worth it. And John McCain is the man to lead us into new and more exciting wars, like with Iran, or Jordan, or Syria, or the Palestinians, or Hezbollah, or the Labor Party, or Tzippy Livni - wait a second, sorry about that. Sometimes I get my countries mixed up.
(Jewish note - don't think I don't love and adore Israel, and support and burn for its right to exist and be secure in its borders. But maybe supporting military action that, in the long run, is against Israel's security interests might not be the best way to protect her. But then, I'm not a neoconservative, so what do I know.)
Oh, and all the bubbes in Boca? Don't forget, Barack Hussein Obama is black. I'm not saying, I'm just saying.

Kafka didn't know from trials

I had a hilarious post already written out. It was going to be about socks that lose their elastic, John Hodgman, and German. You'd have blown milk through your nose, I swear.

Only I had to set it aside, perchance to post it next week. Because this happened.

And if that wasn't bad enough, there was also this bit of "justice."

So as much as I'd like to work up a froth about the Supreme Court getting habeus corpus wrong so they could do right by the Gitmo detainees, right now I'm a little pissed at some of our nation's DA's. We'll do the less aggravating ruling first, Mr. "Pee on you" himself."



If you can't convict this guy, when you have video and direct testimony, you should retire. You have 6 - 6! - years to prepare, and not only can you not convince the victim to testify, but you can't even get her to retract her denial that it was she on the tape. Grab your gold watch, and go tell your grandkids about the pedophile who got away. Kudos.

As for Seattle...you know what? I can understand. I can see how a reasonably intelligent jury can't make up its mind. A man wanted desperately to kill some Jews, in a prominent location where he could do the most damage. He Googled Jews in Washington, and found the Seattle Federation. When he discovered that it was over 200 miles away, he packed some snacks, got directions on MapQuest, and headed out. On the way, to make sure they were in fine working order, he tested his two pistols.

Once he got to the Federation building he kidnapped a 14-year-old girl to gain entrance. As soon as he got in, according to victims' testimony, he started firing. He killed 1 and seriously injured 5. One of his victims, a pregnant woman who saved her fetus by stopping the fired bullet with her arm. Then, overcoming shock and blood loss, she convinced the man to call 911, and he was taken into custody. He plead not guilty by reason of insanity for 15 counts of murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, and related charges.

When asked why they couldn't come to a decision, one of the jurors was shockingly, if unintentionally, spot on. "We didn't understand the legal concept of 'right from wrong.'" Exactly.

So instead of comedy you get tragedy. Sorry about that. At least you got the Chapelle skit thought, right? He's always funny.

Wait, Judas WAS Jewish!

Usually I can work up a nice lather thinking about the interminable presidential campaign. Look, there's Clinton deluding herself that she's still got a shot! McCain wears extra-baggy trousers so no one can see his Depends! Obama's already getting snookered into a manly man contest by McCain ("Oh, I'll go to Iraq. You don't think I've got the guts to go there? You don't know the B.O., little old white man!")!

Recently, though, I'm fatigued. I've got nothing. McCain releases his medical records, and lo and behold he's not as healthy as he claims to be? How is that surprising? I can't freak out about that. Obama goes to a black church? Whaddayaknow! Bill Clinton insists there's a conspiracy against Hillary's winning the nomination? Wait - this one is actually true. But instead of it being limited to the right wing, as Bill claims, it's actually the entire voting body of the Democratic party. Who knew the sinister plot was so elaborate that the entire electorate was involved?

But really, none of this is novel. We've been hearing about it now for about a month. I was looking forward to focusing for a while on something else, like Israel's awfully talky non-talks with Syria and Hamas. And then I saw this.

Blacks have race traitors, the French have...the French, WASPs have liberals, and we the Jews have the Honorable Independent Senator from Connecticut, Joseph Lieberman.

It's one thing for Joe to sell out the Democrats. Reasonable men can differ about policies, and certainly he can't support the party after it chose to back a guy named Ned in the last election. But we in the Tribe thought we knew him differently. We thought he was the grumpy guy in shul who was a little too aggressive about telling people to shut up during the rabbi's speech. Now it turns out he's the crazy guy in shul who crosses himself before he opens the ark.

The only appeal of the Rev. Hagee to Jews seems to be his influence over the flow of many millions of dollars. Can't we for once overcome this destructive stereotype? Can't our Jewish leaders, just this one time, ignore the aroma, the glorious texture and taste, of sweaty, dirty cash (5 commas? Really? Was that appropriate?)? No doubt Joey has the extra burden of being a politician, so his attraction to the "Green Devil" is worse than your typical old Jewish man. But can't we take a broader look at this issue? Here, I'll lay it out as best I can:

What if the Saudi royal family, taking time out of their busy schedule of oppressing women and swimming in their olympic-sized pool of money, started offering Jews around the world all kinds of money on the condition they make aliyah? "Here's $500,000. Move back to Israel."

First, who wouldn't take that deal? Second, wouldn't that give you reason to pause and consider what their ultimate aim is? Why Saudi Arabia, traditionally and presently no friend of Israel or Jews in general, seems to be so generous and helpful all of a sudden? Wouldn't you want to ask "what's with the change of heart?" And when, with a huge grin, they said "no reason. We just love the Jews!" Wouldn't that sort of nonanswer make you even more suspicious?

And here's Senator Lieberman, politically the highest-ranked Jew in America, boasting of his support for a man and a movement whose final aim is the destruction of the Jewish people, either by apocalyptic conflagration or divine retribution.

Ahhh, there's the frustrated rage I was missing. Thanks, Joe. You've helped me to hate again.

Let's leave Egypt, so we can scrape our ovens with our toothbrushes!

I know this will be 2 Jewy posts in a row, but since it's the week of Passover, I think I'm entitled. I have an appropriately bizarre interview with Wife that has to be posted, but first it must be polished to a high sheen, then typed by my helper monkey. Don't think you're going to earn your dinner just by throwing feces and grinning, Rainbow!

Downstairs, as I write this, Wife's mother is banging her head against the Great Wall of Passover. Desperately she tries to clean her kitchen, scrubbing and soaking and boiling and swiffererering. I'm sure some rabbis will commend her, and I'm positive it'll go in her mitzvah checklist, kept by Herbert, the Accountant Angel (sure, you mock him, but Heaven has been in the black for three thousand years. Beat that, Purgatory! Your balance sheets are a mess! Hahahahahahaha!).

But in the end, through all the cleaning and removing by hand the dill from her famous chicken soup, is her Passover any more fulfilling, any more enjoyable? Sure, she wins the OCD category in her local Hadassah chapter's annual awards. And there is indeed a trophy. But, as Mother of the Fancy Pants likes to say, "G-d is sitting up there laughing His omnipotent ass off." I understand the laws, the requirement of eradicating leavened materials from the home. And she does a super job, as do most mothers - because let's face it, there are few men with the patience or inclination to scrub an oven grill until it shines. Who do you think came up with all the loopholes? But why does this holiday turn everyone into Lady MacBeth (and no, I won't quote the line for you. If you don't know what it is, go back to high school, or learn to read. Neanderthal.)?

So, in honor of my mother-in-law, I hereby suggest the following. If

1) you are the principal preparer of the Passover home;

2) you are hosting at least one seder;

3) you are preparing more than 4 recipes that are over 40 years old, one of which requires you to reach into a boiling pot of broth and squeeze out the fresh dill that has been soaking therein for the past 6 hours; and

4) you have a cleaning lady, but you don't really trust her work, so you do the entire house yourself anyway,

you don't have to celebrate any other holiday all year. No fasting, no shaking the fruits and veggies, no sitting in the hut. Because if you're going to blow one holiday out of all proportion, it should cover the rest of the year.

Have a lovely 8 days of constipation and leftovers, my glorious 5 readers.

Long Island ≠ Jewish

Last night, after a long day of playing pickup ball with octogenarians and avoiding In-Laws' questions about my professional intentions as to their fair city, I settled down to enjoy Night of Too Many Stars, a Comedy Central special to raise money for Autism. No, I don't know what the connection is, and no, I'm not going to make a joke about it. If you want that sort of humor, read Kissing Suzy Kolber. Seriously. Stop reading this crap. Go there.

I give the whole phonathon a B+, for the effort. They had a ton of stars, you got to see Tina Fey groped by some corporate flack, and Sara Silverman did that version of Amazing Grace where she harmonizes with her vagina. So that's something, I guess.

There were really only two parts of the show that grabbed my attention and shook it like a colicky baby.

The first was Chris Rock and Steven Wright, doing each other's material. Steven Wright did surprisingly ok - it was funny hearing him say "cracker" in ebonics, and it turns out that you don't have to scream Chris Rock's jokes in a grating whine to make them work.

No, the weird thing was hearing Rock do Steven Wright's jokes. I'd heard them all, and to see Chris Rock attempt a deadpan was unnerving. His persona is all inflection and emoting, whereas Wright may as well be a paralyzed wino, mumbling and drooling at passersby. Steven Wright's jokes, or bits, or missives, or whatever, are truly unfunny when told by someone else. I don't think Chris Rock got more than a sympathy chuckle for any of the jokes he told, while Wright got plenty of laughs doing Rock's material. So the question that kept me up the rest of the night is this: Is it that Chris Rock's stuff is just universally hilarious, or that Steven Wright's material is so wrapped up in Wright's persona that, unless you try and impersonate him, you'll never get a laugh trying his set?

The last thing that got to me was Rosie O'Donnell's set. Evidently, now that she's been booted from the View, and Donald Trump has moved on to perfecting a new combover look, she's bored. And lonely. And the lesbian jokes just aren't hitting their marks anymore. So what does Rosie decide to do? She checks out Kabbalah. And wouldn't you know it, but Long Island + Kabbalah = Jewish! So she can do a whole host of jokes about schmoozing with Pearl and Gitty, and say words like mishpucha, and now she's Ethel Merman.

Listen, and listen good, Rosie. Drop the Jewish jokes, and back slowly away. Just because you're large, have brown hair, and sound like Portnoy's mother doesn't mean you get to mock the Tribe. If you watched the thing, it was like a bad homage to the Seinfeld "Anti-Dentite" episode. She puts on a red string, and then gets to pretend she also knows how to make matza balls? Absolutely not.

Rosie O'Donnell is not only a lesbian, she's also Irish Catholic. She's been on the View. If she can't make comedy gold out of that wealth of material, then she should stay off the stage. Which, I think, would work for everyone involved.

Can't we all agree that he's going to "Kill Whitey," and she'll emasculate us?

One of the benefits of moving to Pennsylvania is my vote will actually matter. In a swing state, my issues are writ nation-wide, and everyone wants to know if I'm a soccer mom, or a gun nut, or if I hate brown people but couch it in terms of nostalgia and missing the "old neighborhoods." So today the two Democratic presidential candidates sent representatives to the Pittsburgh JCC to pander to me and my new neighbors. For my three readers (hi Dad! Grandma! Homeless guy with inexplicable laptop at Starbucks!), I took some notes, running diary-style, so you could feel like you were there too. If anyone asks, you were the one who took all those Hebrew Barack Obama pins.

1:58 - For those of you in Boston, you'll be amazed to know that there are actually McCain supporters under the age of 76. I don't know why they're at this Democratic event, but they seem to be normal, healthy folks who believe that 6 years in a VC prison camp had no real impact on Johnny's psyche, or his feelings about Asians. It certainly hasn't reduced his support for torturing other people.

Lots of Obama pins with his name in Hebrew. Is this the only language for which the campaign does this? Or do they have his name on t-shirts phonetically spelled out in Arabic as well? How about Farsi?

2:04 - Rep. Mike Doyle, local congressman and uncommitted superdelegate, introduces both campaign reps, Eliot Engel (D-NY) for Clinton, and Robert Wexler (D-FL) for Obama. Doyle rocks the yinzer accent, to show off his blue-collar roots, but mentions Wexler's hooker talk on Colbert, so you know he's also down with the college kids. He'll be in Congress forever.

2:07 - Engel in the red tie, Wexler in blue. How is this decided? Should I know the reasoning behind the colors? Is my ignorance the typical blundering of a political neophyte? Should I know about Hillary's notorious devotion to red, Barack's essential "blueness?"

Wexler speaks first, making a funny about the crowd all eventually becoming his constituents in Boca Raton. "Someday you'll all be mine! Mwhahahahahaha!" Goes on about Obama as a "transformational figure," because he's not only black AND white, but he can also turn into a dump truck with, like, lasers.

2:10 - Both candidates have their AIPAC gold card. Are they really going to disagree here, in a JCC?

2:14 - Wexler cites Marty Peretz, of the New Republic, as an admirer of Obama's stand on Israel. So for the record, Obama has supporters on the left, the right, and the whacko.

2:22 - Iran. We've talked with them about Iraq, we've talked with them about Afghanistan. So why not negotiate with them on terrorism? On Israel? On their favorite Persian desserts? As president, Barack Obama will not let ideological divisions get in the way of America obtaining the best chummus recipe, even if it leads him all the way to Tehran, and the kitchens of the Ayatollahs themselves. Such is his commitment to freedom.

2:27 - A quote from conservative magazine the New York Sun: Obama loves Israel. He's a madrassah-educated Muslim, hates Whitey, and will lead a crackrock parade of Crips and Bloods through your nice suburban elementary school, but he does love Israel.

(Sidenote: Rep. Doyle is sitting directly in front of me. He has very small hands, of the carny persuasion, and very long fingernails, impeccably groomed. And...are they polished? Is that Summer Sunset?)

2:30 - Engel, for his part, has a magnificent mustache. With his Bronx accent, he's like Woody Allen's more responsible older brother, Morty Allen, CPA.

2:31 - "Hillary's incredibly smart, and always returns my phone calls (an actual, honest-to-goodness real quote). And she has a great personality. I know, that's code for less-than-beautiful, but she's also, she's really...dignified...looking."

Engel one-ups Wexler by showing off his AIPAC tattoo, inside an outline of Israel that includes the territories, even the Sinai peninsula. "Did you know that Chelsea's real middle name is 'Yerushalayim shel Zahav?'"

Engel's really just reading Clinton's resume, where Wexler used a more narrative style. Telling, I think. It's also a subtle way of saying that Engel is boring, which I just ruined by explaining it outright. Oh well. Subtlety is for stupid idiots.

2:34 - Hillary won't meet with Iran, not in a boat, not in a train, not in a car, not in the rain...

2:45 - "Once you get to know Senator Clinton, she's really awesome. And you know where she stands, and there's nothing that hasn't been revealed. But if it's something she'd rather not answer, then you'll get a firm slap in the face, no more than you deserve."

2:50 - The reps are asked what their dream ticket would be.
Engel: Clinton/Obama, of course.
Wexler: Obama/Doyle. Hahahahahaha. But seriously, anyone but Clinton. Mr. Moderator? What are you doing come January? Want to be Vice President?

After the opening statements, the reps take questions from the crowd.

Q: What does Hillary think of Obama on campaign finance, and vice versa? Fight, monkeys! I want to see blood!
A, from both: We all agree, we love money, just as much, but not more so, than the other guy/gal/misc.

Q: Reverend Wright, he said bad things. True or false?
Engel: defends Obama. Meh.
Wexler:

Q: Energy policy, specifically with regard to nuclear.
A: In a huge improvement over the last guy, both reps properly pronounce nuclear.

(Sidenote #2: Wexler's quite the talker, with quite the ego. "I - and this is me talking here, just me, not the guy I'm allegedly speaking on behalf of, but me - blah blah blah.")

Q: Iraq War: voting for it, what's that about? (Factual insert: Both Engel and Wexler voted to authorize force in Iraq. Doyle, however, did not. So, kudos, guy.)
Engel: Wellllllll...now she's against it. That's something, right?
Wexler: Me me me me me me. Oh, and my guy didn't vote for it, so there.

Q: About the disabled: what's in it for us?
Wexler: Ummmm, ok Israel Israel Israel, football, old people...I got nothing. But I'm sure Barack loves the gimps.
Engel: Health care is important and so, yeah. That's it.

Q: But really, Jeremiah Wright is a total too, am I right?
Asked and answered. Move along, voters.

Q: So this Rezko guy, he gave Senator Obama all this money, and more land for his house, and we don't know the whole story, and this, and that, and the other (this questioner, a nice little old lady, went on for a while. I kinda nodded off)?
Wexler: What about Whitewater?
Engel: Really? Whitewater? Hillary is WYSIWYG. Vetted, boiled, peeled, sauteed, filleted and billeted. Nothing is secret any more, there are no surprises.
Wexler: Bosnia, hello! And tax returns, what up?
Engel: Really, who hasn't, once in their past, confused a little girl reading poetry for sniper fire? Don't we all really want to avoid both, in the worst way?

Q: Somehow, beginning with the Holocaust (and Godwin's Law lives on) Q'er gets back to Rev. Wright who is still, by all accounts, a real piece of work. But then her real Q is on outsourcing. Thoughts?
Engel: Actually, we all hate foreigners, so outsourcing bad.
Wexler: Look, fine. I'll take the bait. Reverend Wright is a racist, bigoted, anti-semitic blowhard who does more damage to his community than guns and mandatory minimums put together. And Obama made not just one awful judgment in joining his church, but 20 years' worth, including having his marriage and kids' baptisms overseen by this whackjob. And am I embarrassed for my candidate? You betcha. Does it do much to undermine Barack's principal campaign platform, which is that sound judgment beats experience every time, by weakening Barack's once-strong hold on the sound judgment position? Quite a bit. But despite all that, he's still my guy. So there. (Note: Rep. Wexler may or may not have said all or none of that. I was sick of listening at that point, and dying for some cookies and lemonade).

Final Q: Healthcare and PeruFTA, somehow related, I guess.
Wexler: We both somehow want universal health care without alienating the HMO's. Engel: Yeah. Either way, it will stall in committee and get earmarked to hell, and any improvement in the next eight years will be incremental at best. But at least our president will get to call it "universal," right? Hillary rules!
Wexler: No way, Obama kicks A!

And then the whole thing devolved into a slapping fight.

Today is a glorious, glorious day

The first round of the Tournament begins this afternoon. This is how you know it's the most fantastic sporting event, by the way; it's the only one known as "THE Tournament." Can the World Series make that claim? Well, baseball can't say much, what with all those steroid needles poking out of its gigantic head, and it doesn't really get out much, what with the hip replacement (because it's old, get it? And really boring). The Super Bowl? It's only one game, and it's never as fun as ripping on the $846 million spent on commercials. 

So really this is the best sporting event of the year, and regularly renews my love of basketball and sports betting. Rocco and Luigi love it because they get to come to my house and threaten my family if I don't pay up, and I'm always polite enough to offer them some alone time with Wife in exchange for my fingers. 

Recently Brother S has taken it upon himself to run the family brackets, which we all appreciate, and takes a load off my mind because now I can concentrate on getting the whole brood hooked on Amway (it saves money, and we all make money! There's no reason whatsoever not to get involved! What's a pyramid scheme? Who's Ponzi?). And it means we can talk about George Mason and Kansas' perennially disappointing run at family events, and not get yelled at.

Finally, it's Child's first tournament, and he has his own bracket. And hopefully, like his dad, he'll think enough of the event to lie to his bosses, and tell them there's this new Jewish holiday that happens in the spring, and celebrates amateur athletics, beer, and brings the family closer together through the playing of 65 competitions. And I'm sure, brilliant Child that he is (this morning he discovered a Higgs boson  particle in his diaper), he'll be able to come up with some clever Hebrew name to seal the deal, and get the day off.

Blessing on your head...

Salon makes all sorts of ruckus about virgins. I don't know what the big deal is. People complain about virginity? I was a virgin for 20-odd years. I may still be a version, for all I know. And this -

http://www.salon.com/mwt/broadsheet/?last_story=/mwt/broadsheet/2007/10/10/knights_to_remember/

This was like my bar mitzvah. Except instead of your friends giving you money they wait outside to beat the crap out of you.

Repent! The Hour of Judgment is at Hand!

Tis the season for forgiveness. For those of you who may not know, we are nearing the end of the 10 Days of Repentance, which occurs at the beginning of the 25 Days of Holy Binging, and is followed by the 6 Weeks of Half-Assed Exercise. It is common for many folks to ask forgiveness of others during this time so as to start off the new Jewish year with a clean slate, thereby saying to G-d “see, I can follow your ‘rules,’ your ‘laws.’ It’s not so tough, Big Man.”

In this vein I should like to repent, to atone for the many, many wrongs I have committed over this past year. Forgive me, don’t forgive me, it doesn’t really matter – it just feels so good getting this stuff off my chest. Like that one time I tweezed my four chest hairs, except with less blood.

To the mailman: I’m sorry I sprayed my mail with dog pheromones. How was I supposed to know that the cliché was accurate? And don’t worry; with modern medicine, rabies isn’t fatal.

To the wild turkeys who live on my block: I’m sorry for all the honking. And for posting pictures of you and your brood in local hunting lodges. How about we compromise – I won’t run you over or offer a reward for your tasty carcasses, and you learn to use a crosswalk.

To my super, the Great G: I promise, no more ritual sacrifice. Just so you’re aware, though, that means no more Virgin Meatloaf.

To Random Coworker: it was wrong to sign you up for a year of Teen Meat. But you have so many pictures of young boys in your office…wait, those are you children? I have to make some calls.

To Friend K: I’m sorry I sent your picture to the Department of Homeland Security. But you talk crazy sometimes. And you have to admit, you’re a danger to yourself, and others.

To the Brothers: I know I can’t call off the fatwas against you. But I will pray hard for your deliverance unto the well-deserved 72 virgins. When you hear about how you’re supposed to be killed, though…you’re just going to laugh and laugh.

To Wife: Sorry for the whole pregnancy thing. If you really want, I’m still ok with selling Fetus on the black market. My EBay auction is up to $325.62!

To Parents: That, just before – that was a whole lot of inappropriate humor right there. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.

Tuesday List: Things to Do in Israel When You're not Dead, But Only Mildly Decayed

This is what I did last week in the Land of Milk & Honey:

1) Got "Mary was a slut!" tattooed on my chest in the middle of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher;

2) Walked onto the Temple of the Mount wearing a "Muhammad Was a Pussy!" T-shirt;

3) Led a Gay Pride parade while blaring "It's Raining Men" on my ghetto blaster through Meah Shearim on the Holy Sabbath;

4) Threw rocks and Molotov cocktails at Israeli soldiers while surrounded by women and children;

5) Demolished Palestinian homes with a Caterpillar bulldozer;

6) Snuck Sudanese refugees past security;

7) Evicted 3 entire settlements from the West Bank;

8) Gave a lecture at Gaza University on "The Myth of the Law of Return; '... And Don't Come Back!'"

9) Openly proclaimed the existence of the Israeli nuclear weapons program; and

10) Led a Holocaust denial rally at Yad Vashem.

All in all, it was a great trip.