Who wants to live in a world run by Donald Trump, Paris Hilton and Jonathan Safran Foer?
Gay guys and smokers have it easy.
What makes Mitch Albom so sure he’s going to heaven? Here’s hoping there’s a special hell reserved for cheesy writers.
If I were to go out to a dance club, which is probably not going to happen, I would probably end up relying on the moves I used at that English Beat show back in ’82. Kind of a high-arm thing, with funny legs.
What, so now it’s our civic duty to watch the Daily Show?
Every time the face of Cablevision dunce and all-around New York bonehead James Dolan appears in the papers, another East Village hipster decides to shave off his goatee.
Frank Rich can blow me.
Everybody’s getting so touchy about their religions. Get over yourselves.
I have terrible luck with my shoe purchases. By the time I get home from the store, it’s like somebody has pulled a switcharoo. But a few weeks ago, I got a pair of shoes so comfortable that it’s like having pillows strapped to my feet. Who is the shoe god and how can I thank him?
I’ll take True Grit over The Great Gatsby in particular and Portis over Fitzgerald in general.
I didn’t much care for The Office in its original incarnation. A little of the “mundane” thing goes a long way for me.
It’s terrible in the middle of the night in the city. That’s when box-like ambulance trucks stop outside your building to fetch the dead old person who has conked out in bed. After they load the body into the truck, they pull off slow, no flashing light, no siren.
The information I’ve picked up about New York Times movie critic A.O. Scott’s offspring’s taste in movies is information I want to expel from my brain. But there it stays, stuck.
I wish trees could talk … or do I?
Sing to the tune of “Matchmaker, Matchmaker”: Ombudsman, ombudsman / Hear my complaint / Please rid the paper / Of bias and taint.
Those guys who enjoy making you feel this small for not knowing about some obscure 1975 B-movie are misguided.
Bloomberg is walking kryptonite. One look at his face and you go weak.
Look, you find a rhyme for “complaint.” Who am I, Andrew Motion?
Conan should revive Johnny Carson’s old Carnac the Magnificent bit. He’s earned the right. He could just call it Conac the Magnificent.
Saul Bellow, literary god, no doubt about it. But was he too good? He was aggressively erudite and intelligent in his books, which could leave you (“you” meaning me) feeling intellectually inferior the whole way through. As a writer, he was way up there … as his reader, you (I) were way down here. He rigged it that way. Melville, Tolstoy, Faulkner, Shakespeare, even crusty, contemptuous Flaubert were all more welcoming to us lowlifes.
Sharks never attack vacationers in the Riviera. Those people have it made. The men in tiny Speedos, the women topless. Cocktails on the boat. “Ah, Luigi, ciao!” But go for a dip in Florida and you’re dead meat.
I would love to see the look on Osama bin Laden’s face when, in the afterlife, he finds that Scientologists are the ones who decide who gets to enter heaven. He’ll be there like: “Jesus or Moses I would have understood. Buddha, maybe. But L. Ron freakin’ Hubbard?” Then a Tom Cruise angel swoops by with a big dumb grin, going, “Ha, ha! Told ya so!”
That’s all I got.
Frogs: A No-Exit Poll
Q: I see that you have not jumped out of the pot. Can you tell me why?
F: I find the pot very comfortable.
Q: Have you noticed any change in the temperature of the water?
F: Perhaps a slight change. The water was somewhat tepid when I first jumped in. It is now rather warmer … pleasantly so.
Q: According to our measurements, the temperature has risen 23 degrees Fahrenheit in the past hour. At that rate, it will reach the boiling point in approximately 20 minutes. Does this worry you at all?
F: No. I have full confidence in the Bullfrog. If there were any reason to jump out of the pot, he would tell us.
Q: You trust the Bullfrog more than you trust this thermometer?
F: Absolutely. He is a good frog: straight-talking, steadfast and strong. When he bellows, you can take it to the bank.
Q: Do you ever worry that he might be too strong, too steadfast? That he might be unwilling to change course, even when the course he is on may lead to disaster?
F: Not at all. Steadfastness is a virtue, therefore one cannot have too much of it.
Q: It appears that some frogs near the center of the pot have stopped croaking, ribbeting, calling, hopping and flicking … in fact, have stopped making any sounds or movements at all. Does this alarm you?
F: No. Their sufferings, if any, are undoubtedly their own doing.
Q: Can you imagine a scenario in which the water gets so hot that you might be forced to abandon the pot?
F: Your question is purely speculative. If I had to answer it, I would say that jumping out is nearly always inadvisable. In fact, the hotter the water gets, the less advisable it is. One would simply ( yawn) be jumping out of the pot and into the fire.
Q: Of the following reasons for not jumping out of the pot, which is the most important to you: (1) moral values, (2) security, (3) prosperity, (4) credulity, or (5) moral values?
F: My dear sir, I would gladly squat here all day answering your questions, but I am afraid I am feeling ( yawn) a tad drowsy. I trust you will excuse me while I take a tiny, a very tiny, a very brief ….