All Good Things Must Come To An End

The life cycle of a star is long; our sun was born approximately 5 billion years ago. Compare that to the lifespan of the Lake Erie midge, more commonly called the Canadian Soldier, which lives only 24 hours. In between those two extremes is this blog, which has been in existence for almost two years. Sadly, its time is now over.

3 Reasons We Must Stuff Stuff On Our List

1. Jared

2. Nance

3. You

Ok. In brief:

Jared is a twentysomething guy with twentysomething-guy pursuits and a twentysomething guy commitment level. You probably noticed that I outposted him at least three to one. Additionally, he has moved out to an apartment with a buddy, and they do not yet have Internet capability beyond their Blackberrys. This all adds up to A Lot Going On And Some Minor Inconvenience, so he is pretty much not going to be posting anytime soon, not that he was doing so all that often, which I covered already. SO! Moving on.

I have two other Main Blogs, so this one admittedly was not my Main Priority. I started it with Jared so that we could Do Something Together. It soon became something of a drag for me when it looked like it was yet another Personal Blog. I can't helm three blogs. This is the easy one to let go. Just like in a work situation, last hired is the first fired.

Finally, this blog has the least number of subscribers and almost no commenters. It's pretty obvious that it won't be missed, and so I feel that I'm bowing to the will of the public anyway. Please know, the few of you that do read occasionally, that I will incorporate a few Lists on my anchor blog over at the Dept. of Nance. The clickable link is in the sidebar here. I won't be taking down this blog; rather, I'll be using it to experiment with some of Blogger's new features recently introduced. That way, I can decide whether or not to implement them worry-free at my other sites.

Thanks for the laughs and for the discussions we had here. It was fun while it lasted.

How I Learned To Love Animals And To Ignore My Parents At The Same Time

When I was a kid, my mother said, "There will absolutely be NO PETS IN THIS HOUSE!" Here, then, is a list of all the

Pets I Grew Up With

1. Gerbils: Xavier and Myrtle

2. Mice: Shasta, Pepsi, and Millie

3. Several Turtles whose names I forget

4. Dozens of tanks of tropical fish, including a piranha

5. A few garter snakes

6. Hamsters: Peanuts and Amy

7. Dog: Dusty

8. Guinea Pigs: Cory, Toby, and Eric

9. Chicken: Elton

10. Bunny: Shiloh

It is worth noting that every single one of these pets lived in the house, except the bunny, who had a deluxe pen outdoors. Not one of these pets made it into our home with my mother's prior approval or her permission. They merely showed up and she could do--and did--nothing about it. My father merely shrugged his shoulders and smiled, knowing his involvement would be nil. Also, my mother immediately liked all of them with the exception of the snakes and the mice, which brings me to a story that is very telling about my mother.

When the mice showed up, Mom was supremely irked, and she made my sister Susan and I promise to keep them upstairs so that she didn't have to see them. As usual, we had no idea how to take care of these pets, and we didn't realize how easily mice can escape any enclosure, no matter how small the opening provided. The mice getting loose was an hourly occurrence, and my mother started threatening to suck them up in the vacuum. One day, she saw Susan's mouse, Millie, the most Houdini-like of the three, scurrying along the livingroom baseboards as we were getting ready to leave for school. "That's IT!" my mother screamed. "NEITHER OF YOU GIRLS IS GOING TO SCHOOL UNTIL YOU FIND THAT MOUSE!"

Millie enjoyed the run of the house for most of the day.

Been Gone Since Like...November: Come Here Often?

Oh, hello there. Come here often? What's shakin'?

Yes, it's been a while since I've been here. There is no excuse for it. I want to make that known right now. Nance will tell you it's because I'm a slug, lazy, and sometimes apathetic about most things. What do I say to that? Good call, Mother. Also, that I have been, albeit regrettably and inexplicably, cantankerous as of late.

Now that we are caught up, let's get down to brass tacks. ("Brass tacks"? How old am I?)

My new favorite night is Thursday. Thursday is Boyfriend Night. What is that? Basically, if girls can call each other girlfriend, we can call each other boyfriend...and we do. The place: Harry Buffalo on Boyfriend Night. Let's explore some of the worst pickup lines that I may or may not have used on Boyfriend Night, in descending order of how much I like them. Not based upon their results, but how much I like them. I may (or may not) have been a couple of pitchers deep when these lines were (or were not) uttered.

5 Worst Pickup Lines

5. "Hey, I'm Jared. Does your boyfriend know you're here tonight? Just checking."

4. "Whatever you're drinking, I'll buy one."

3. "Hi, you feel like coming and sitting with us? If you do, great, and if not, that's cool too. Just asking."

2. "Are you drinking Bud Lite? Oh, good thing. Why? Because it's awful and you look like you need a Long Island. I'll take care of that."

1. "Hello, can I buy you a water?"

******************************************************

5. This is an EASY way to see if the girl is attached to someone. Either it's a "yes" meaning "I have a boyfriend, guy. Back off," or it's a "no" meaning "I have a boyfriend, and he doesn't need to know I'm here. Back off, guy". Or, even better, it could be "I don't have a boyfriend". What's that? Oh, that works out well. See what I did there?

4. Basically, this is being straightforward. All you want here is to buy a drink. Who turns that down? Nobody. And that's the key. If you buy the drink, she accepts it, and then reveals that she has a boyfriend, you didn't get rejected, she was CLEARLY interested, just has someone already. In fact, it's HER FAULT for leading you on. See? Basically, you are spending three bucks to see if a girl has a boyfriend, is a cheater, or just likes to have a good drink from a guy with a dominant beard. Three dollars well spent, I say.

3. Nonchalance at its finest. No urgency, not smothering, basically saying, "I'm interested, but only if you are." This needs no further explanation. So simple. So perfect. Plus, it'll give her and her friends something to talk about. You, sir, have done your job. Make interest known? Check. Put ball in their court? Check. Give them a discussion topic for that night and if they see you there again? Check...and...Check. Well played, sir.

2. First and foremost, Bud Lite sucks. Ok? Budweiser? Fine. Bud Lite? Why bother? Second of all, who doesn't love a Long Island? I know I do. And you probably do too. It's got enough booze to be manly, but it's sweet enough to be girly. It's the perfect drink to have WITH a girl. Also, you've communicated that you have good taste. What's more, you have also let her know you have her best interest in mind that evening. Basically, for a beautiful girl to drink anything other than a Long Island is preposterous. Biggest drink turnoff for me and my boyfriends? Cranberry and vodka. Cliche, boring, stupid, and makes me want to throw the drink across the room. Top drink I would immediately fall for a girl if she ordered it upon my offer to buy? Gin and Tonic. I'm marrying that girl. Hands down. As long as it isn't Beefeater.

1. COME ON! This....this friends, is flawless. You are doing so much here. So much that I will, in fact, give this its own top five. An unprecedented move here at Stuff:

A. You are showing your amazing sense of humor.

B. You are still clearly demonstrating an interest.

C. Follow it with "Oh, I'm sorry, that was rude. My name is Jared, what are you drinking?" and it shows humility, willingness to admit you were an ass, and willingness to atone for your ass-holier-than-thou attitude.
D. If it fails just brush it off as "She doesn't have a sense of humor. Not right for me." It's about built-in outs.

E. Water is free. That is all.

Discuss.

JPD

What In The Hell Am I Talking About?

Did you ever hear something come out of your mouth and think, That's something I never thought I'd hear myself say"? That happens to me way more than I care to admit. Here's my list of

Stuff I Can't Believe I Heard Come Out Of My Own Mouth

1. They should have put a hip roof on that shed.
2. Who is available as a free agent at the All Star break?
3. With his speed and heat, Kerry Wood should have been a closer all along.
4. They are going to lose control of that concrete in this heat if they don't put some water on it.
5. The Titans will never cover that spread; I think the line is way off this week.

I know, right? Who is writing the post this week? This is what happens when an artsy-literary-foodie marries a carpenter/construction/sporty guy and gives birth to two sons. It's called self-defense. I now have an expanded lexicon that includes building and carpentry terms like hip roof, and sports terms like free agency and closer. During one memorable dinner, I mastered the complexities of the NBA's midlevel exception and Bird rights and how it all related to "our" team, the Cleveland Cavaliers. Good heavens. And while last year, I couldn't even sit through a football game, this year I'm in the family pool and betting the Vegas line. (Which I detest, by the way. I can do swimmingly picking the winners, but is that enough for Jared? Oh, no. For it is not enough to know who is better. "Anyone can know that, Mom," he says derisively. "The challenge is to know how much better they are. And that is the point spread." Sigh. Why is he so difficult?)

What about all of you? What do you find yourself talking about that amazes you? Let's see if your stuff expands our vocabulary!

This Year I Am Thankful For Myth Busting

Thanksgiving is here. I love the turkey, the potatoes, the dressing, the wine. More importantly...THE GRAVY! I fucking love gravy. However, there are a few people propagating a few egregious Thanksgiving patterns and I am DONE letting them off the hook.

I will now dispel five Thanksgiving Myths. They are in order of their egregious ridiculousness.

5 Thanksgiving Myths That Need To Be Stuffed

1. It is not Christmas.

2. It is not Turkey Day.

3. There is no such thing as Cranberry Sauce.

4. Dressing --V-- Stuffing

5. Black Friday

1. Be prepared for this. I have always defined Christmas the way it was defined for me by my family, the calendar, and other things such as...logic. That definition? December 25th. Call me insane. I know, this is a radical approach to The Giving Of Thanks, but it is one that is tried and true. I like to have my holidays in order and clearly defined by the dates, or "set times that they are supposed to happen." Starting Christmas the way retailers and lunatic shoppers do in November, or even (gasp) October is like making a date for a Friday night and showing up on Monday to wait for her to get ready. See? It's silly, isn't it?

2. We have a name for the Holiday that occurs on the last Thursday in November. It is "Thanksgiving." Why this insistence on calling it Turkey Day? It sounds stupid. It sounds juvenile, and most importantly, it detracts from what the Holiday actually is. It is not a celebration of Turkey. Trust me, I looked. It is a celebration of the things for which we are thankful. Come on, people. Look at a calendar. If your calendar denotes this day as "Turkey Day," do nothing. Leave it hanging. Why? Because something so juvenile and obnoxiously cutesy has likely fallen into your possession as a gift from a child who handmade it in kindergarten.

3. Sauce = A liquid one pours onto one's food as a condiment. If your cranberry side of choice is a liquid, someone owes you some actual pieces of cranberry. Also, if it can be poured the same way you pour gravy (as this is how one would pour "sauce"), it has probably gone rancid and should not be consumed. Throw it away. Relish? Yep. Jelly? OK. Hell, if you like the gelatinous cranberry side, throw it in a creative and festive mold! You're welcome. You can use that.

4. Stuffing goes inside the turkey. Dressing goes alongside it. In a separate pan, even. Unless you are using "stuffing" a verb. "Man, this bread-based side dish is STUFFING me so full!" See? It is DOING the stuffing in this case and that is fine. You are saying it is filling. I can get with that. But to say that your chef has "made a pan of stuffing" is ridiculous. Make sense? Excellent. Moving on.

5. Why are we calling it this? Seriously. Black Tuesday was an AWFUL DAY in American history. And while yes, the Friday after Thanksgiving can be awful for many reasons, this is not the lineage of its nomenclature. Retailers began calling it that because it was the day they could get their books back into "the black" meaning positive numbers. Have you ever seen a retail report that details such things? If you are in the positive, the numbers are green. This is also the color of money. Furthermore, it can be the color of zombies, which is what most males turn into after 40 pounds of Thanksgiving gluttony clogs their arteries. It is also the color I used to turn when girlfriends would ask me to accompany them and their mothers on 4AM shopping trips. I feel like Green Friday works much better.

I hope I have not turned you totally on your ear or offended your Holiday Verbiage. But really, guys, I could no longer sit idly by and allow my sense of logic to be assaulted my these gross Thanksgiving travesties any longer.

What about you? What do you call it? Do you do holidays one at a time? What bothers you about these sorts of things? Do share.

Christmas Stalking, Or Slow Down And Count Your Blessings, Turkeys!

Oh, I know how cliche it is to get all steamed up about how the stores put out their Christmas decorations on the fifth of July and how incredibly commercial it all is anymore, but this isn't about that. This is about how Thanksgiving has been shunted to the Off-Ramp Of Holidays all of a sudden. Relegated to the Minor Leagues along with Earth Day and Arbor Day. It's insane. People do more about stupid Halloween than they do about Thanksgiving, and I'm plenty irritated. So vexed, in fact, that it's High Time we got Downright Thankful about Thanksgiving. Here are a few

Reasons To Be Jazzed About Thanksgiving

1. Turkey Gravy

2. No Gifts

3. Side Dishes

4. Stuffing/Dressing

5. Rolls

6. Cranberry Sauce

7. Sanctioned Slothfulness and Gluttony

Like I even have to explain these! Everyone knows that most food exists only to serve as a conveyance for gravy, which is, quite possibly, the most comforting foodstuff ever. And the King Of That Realm is Turkey Gravy. Sad are those whose cook cannot make a decent turkey gravy. For me, that is the single best thing about the meal, and I AM NOT KIDDING YOU. Just give me a bowl of turkey gravy and perhaps a piece of toast and I am in bliss.... Okay. Wait...I had An Episode just then. Okay.

The second best thing about Thanksgiving is that there is no bigass Gift Exchange. NO SHOPPING FOR PRESENTS. How wonderful. How liberating. One can simply enjoy the pleasure of the company of others for A. MEAL. Totally not mercenary. No frantic mall-running. No online retail hellraising. No last-minute shelf-raiding. It's heavenly.

I can make my entire Thanksgiving meal out of the side dishes alone. For me, the turkey is tertiary. I make one, of course, but it's purely ritual. I live for everything else. The Brussels sprouts, the mashed potatoes, the sweet potatoes, and, of course, the...

Dressing! Or, you can call it Stuffing if you actually cook yours inside the turkey. I don't. Thanksgiving is about the only time I make it, so I make approximately eleventy pounds of it. (Or is it cubic feet? I forget. In any case, I make a lot.) We then eat it for the next several days pretty much on the hour, every hour. Cold, warm, whatever. Isn't it incredible that you can make something so orgasmic from just some bread and eggs and...stuff? Unbelievable.

Speaking of bread, I love it, but nothing compares to having rolls with dinner at Thanksgiving. Oh, sure, I know you can have them anytime, but we don't, and even if we did, it would not be the same. I get those tiny little puffy square potato rolls, and it's embarrassing how we attack them. Sad, really, but do you know how good they are?

And cranberry sauce! My mother never had this, not even the canned junk, (not that I would have eaten that), but once I found out how easy it was to make the real stuff and how good it was, I couldn't believe it. I do make this every now and again as an accompaniment to pork or roast chicken, but do try to save it for Thanksgiving. And cranberries last forever in the freezer. What a deal!

Finally, Thanksgiving is such a no-guilt holiday for everyone, unlike Christmas. What other day can you simply eat yourself into oblivion, lie around like Henry VIII, and be totally okay about it? Oh sure, if you're the cook, you have the dinner to do, that's true. But I cook for my three men only--made sure of that a long time ago. It's a very relaxed affair, and we all enjoy the day hanging out, eating, spending time together, watching football and the dog show, and just taking it easy. When I require their services, they jump in. Very low-impact, high reward for everyone.

O Thanksgiving! So many holidays could take a Lesson from you! Good food, good company, good feeling, and good times. The Stuff that dreams are made of. (Who needs all that "visions of sugarplums" nonsense?)

Who Needs A Reason? Not Me When It Comes To This Irritating Stuff

Ever get crabby and dismissive over something for no good reason? I do this often and I don't apologize for it. Hey, it happens.

Stuff I Am Unreasonably Irked By

1. Brett Favre
2. the Dallas Cowboys
3. Short leather jackets
4. Chihuahuas
5. Chris Farley/Adam Sandler/SNL Male Comedian du jour Movies
6. Balloons

I'm going to try to discuss these in a reasonable, calm manner. Don't piss me off and end up on this list, whatever you do. ;-)

1. Okay, look: Brett Favre is a spoiled diva who held at least two teams hostage while he farted around and ninny-nannyed and Kept His Dream Alive, along with ESPN, ESPN2, and ESPN753's ratings. He is a Walking Soap Opera. I am sick and tired of athletes being allowed to retire as many times as they want and then come back like Saviors Of Their Sport (do you hear me, Michael Jordan?). And if I have to hear one more time about how BF is *gasp!* FORTY, and yet so exuberant and wonderful, I will vomit all over myself. Big Effing Deal. All BF fans need to look at THIS. End of discussion.

2. Do NOT call the Dallas Cowboys "America's Team." I am an American, and they are not my team. Who started that bullshit, anyway? What is so American about the Dallas Cowboys? Their roster of criminals? I hate having any pseudo-patriotism shoved down my throat, so this automatically frosts my cupcakes. The cheerleaders are bad enough. They even had two movies made about them. And, while we're on the subject, why do NFL teams even have cheerleaders? Can anyone think of anything more pointless?


3. What is the deal with those short, tight leather jackets that some chicks like to wear? I'm not talking about as a fashion accessory; I'm talking about--ostensibly--for warmth. There is no way in hell that they are warm. They cannot be. It doesn't cover the butt; hell, it doesn't even cover the entire midriff area. Looks ridiculous. Every time I see one, the person wearing it looks like she's freezing and can barely put her arms up high enough to fit her hands in her pockets. It's insane.


4. When will these sad, pathetic dogs finally be bred out of existence? I mean, Chihuahuas look like an old man who was left out in the winter naked and wet. They shiver constantly and they look...guilty as hell! All of them look like they have either just been beaten or like they should be beaten because they just peed on the dining room rug or something. What is with these dogs? I don't get the appeal. They kind of look like they need a fix...like they've been trying to get off meth but it's just so damn hard! And those Chihuahua owners who dress their dogs? Please. These poor animals have a hard enough life. Don't rob them of what modicum of dignity they possess.


5. Every time someone tries to tell me of the comedic genius of Chris Farley, I want to smack that someone. Hard. I'm sorry, but being a fat guy with no physical boundaries is hardly on par with the wit of David Sedaris or even Richard Pryor. Jiggling your fat will eventually make someone laugh. That is always true. And Adam Sandler? Using a funny, gratingly annoying voice in an inappropriate situation will make males between the ages of 2 and 26 laugh. Not to self-aggrandize here, but I need more. For the rest of the SNL Male Comedians, merely extrapolate. (Hey, even Fletch wasn't really funny. Noted exception, Bill Murray, but even The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou sucked. And you know it did!)


6. Is there anything on Earth more pointless than balloons? Come on, now, really. Sure, they look festive, but then what? After twelve hours or less, they sink sadly, pucker up, and become...sad. Sad, drifting obstacles and reminders of the transience of happiness. And when your little toddler gets a balloon and it A) blows away B) pops C)becomes pet fodder and is destroyed, how fun is that? ZERO--FOR EVERYONE. You can't do anything with a balloon, really. Either when it is inflated or when it's done. It's the single most pointless thing there is. Balloons are awful. Just awful. I abhor waste, and balloons are wasteful. Just seeing them, especially a "bouquet" of them, irks the hell out of me.


Are there more things I am unreasonably irked by? Of course there are. But it's your turn now. What Stuff irks you? Be bold and brave! Call them out once and for all! How dare they, after all, bedevil you?

How's That Workin' For Me?

I am really awful at some stuff. I know, it is hard to believe but I promise you that it is true. I am awful at math, returning phone calls, most video games that aren't sports, and separating laundry before I wash it.

However, there are a few things that I am undeniably outstanding at. Will they ever get me anywhere? Maybe. Is that the point? Be serious, people. Of course it isn't. Try to hold yourself back from wanting to come to my house and spend time with me. It may be difficult, but please, the outpouring of affection will do nothing but embarrass us both when I enumerate the

5 Things I'm Terrific At

1. Fantasy Football
2. Ninja Moves
3. Pouring a Soda
4. Countdowns
5. Moving A Couch Bed

Let us explore my aptitude in each area with varying degrees of detail.

1. I just get it. I understand value. I understand matchups. I understand players' roles. But the kicker (watch for falling puns)? I am a master at managing the salary cap. For instance: Quarterback is simply the most overvalued position there is. Why spend $50 fake cash against a $550 cap when for only 50 total points less on the season you can have a very good QB for only 24 dollars of your fake money? You know how long a season is in fantasy? 14 weeks. 50 points over 14 weeks isn't even 4 points per week. Go stock up on backs and for Christ's sake, please get at least two top 35 WR. You'll thank me.

2. I am nimble. I am quick. And I have unparalleled execution. What? Dad isn't paying attention at the dinner table? KARATE CHOP HIS ASS UNDER THE TABLE! Now he's back with us. What? Nance is silently wondering what a double ninja kick off of the arm of the loveseat would look like? BAM! Now she knows. She wants another? FINE! SMASH. You're welcome, Mom. Sam thinks he is safe on his way to the kitchen? WRONG! BLAMMO! A good solid swat will make him think twice next time he thinks he needs dinner! Don't be afraid to practice them, either. But do it in front of people. That's how ninjas do. Make people think they know what your go-to move is...then...at just the right time...hit 'em with a flying-double-punch into a mule-kick! Now that's what the fuck is up!

3. You laugh, but I implore you, do not. This is an art. You ever tried pouring a ginger ale? Good luck dealing with that fizz. Here is how you do it. DO NOT pour, wait for the fizz to subside, and then pour more. Always stay pouring. That's right. Just gauge your speed. Slow it down, speed it up, keep it guessing. Also, please, I beg you, avoid the ice. I have a theory that cold = more fizz. But you have to have the ice in there first to account for the volume ratio of ice to soda. These are huge factors here. I warn, it's going to make a prolonged fizzing sound as the effervescent glory enters your vessel for glorious consumption. Tune it out. It'll be worth it.

4. This one is so important. And, like the others, has real life application. Counting down the hours before we can leave work is something that we all do. Even if we love our job. Here is an example: It is 3 o' clock and you can leave at 5. As soon as it is 3:05, do not think "almost two hours still." Think "less than two hours left! Pretty soon, it'll be an hour and a half!" See what I did there? This way, once you hit that 90-minute mark, you can think "we are almost at an hour left, and an hour is nothing!" I cannot tell you how many days this has gotten me through. Try it. If you aren't 100% satisfied, return this method for a disparaging remark of your choice.

5. It is hard work, moving a couch bed. Do this though: do not, under any circumstances take the bed part out. Why? Well, then you have to put it together. I recently navigated a couch bed down three flights of winding stairs and through hallways about 6 feet wide with my friend Paul. It took about 25 minutes but was worth it. The amount of satisfaction at the end is unparalleled. We talked about it for two days like we cured cancer, delivered a child, and won an election all in the same day. Oh, and a word of advice: don't be afraid to flip that bitch end over end...vertically. You'll thank me.

So, fans, what are you good at? What is one thing you do that you think "wow, I am really fucking good at that; too bad nobody cares and it doesn't matter"? It does matter. To me, at least. Plus, if we cannot have these things, these small upsides, these super important meaningless things, well...how sad would we all be?

--
JPD

Random Pleasantries Only, And Under No Circumstances Should You Feel Any Pressure Whatsoever To Feel Grateful For Anything...Anything At All

Don't you hate the people who wander around with auras of sweetness and light who admonish you to "count your blessings" or--even worse--to "stop and smell the roses"? Ugh. They make me fussy.

In this post, however, I will be listing a few things, in random order, that I find pleasant. If you are moved to do something similar, why, avail yourself of the Comments Space!

Some Stuff I Enjoy

1. Listening to a man speak in a British accent
2. Going for a drive
3. The smell of dinner in the oven
4. Baby laughter
5. Looking at black men in dreadlocks/long braids

Briefly then,

1. I could just sit forever and listen as men like Daniel Day-Lewis or Patrick Stewart or Hugh Laurie simply...oh, I don't know...just read the phone book to me. Seriously. Why can't all men have a posh British accent? It would be like a combination of velvet and chocolate syrup being applied directly to my ears. Or something. Excuse me. I'm...never mind.

2. Like a big old dog, I am a sucker for a nice ride in the car. Hold open the door, call my name, and say, "Want to go for a ride?" and I get pretty excited. I love to go, and it does not matter where. Out to a farm stand for apples and cider, out to a mall to look for shoes, out to just explore...whatever. I'm in. As long as I don't ever have to drive or decide, pack me up.

3. Right now, I am making a lovely pot roast for Sunday dinner. I have been smelling it for hours, and it is heavenly. Is there anything as wonderful as lovingly placing a chicken and herbs or a roast and potatoes into the oven and then leaving it there to merrily roast away, knowing that those incredible smells will soon be marvelous flavors? And all you have to do is sit there and wait. So satisfying.

4. There is something indescribable about hearing a baby laugh his deep, chuckly giving-himself-over-to-it-completely laugh, isn't there? You know that you are hearing a pure, simple, joyous sound that is unaffected. And that baby could be laughing at something as simple as a dishtowel. Love that.

5. Ever since Milli Vanilli, whose videos I watched with complete and utter fascination and devotion, and whose music I still love (I don't care who really sang it; it was catchy and fun), I have been unabashedly attracted to men with braids and/or dreadlocks. I once saw an incredibly beautiful black man with braids AND dreads get on the El in Chicago about 13 years ago, and I still can't get him out of my mind. I am not kidding, either.

There are, of course, more things that give me satisfaction, but this is a nice sampling for now. Have you a List Of Happies?

Bring Out Your Dead!

The time has come to starch the finest linens, polish the heirloom silver, bring out the fine china, and light the most elegant tapers you have. Set the table, Stuff Readers, for the Dead Dinner Party!

Invite 5 guests. Anyone you want from That Graveyard Of History, Ancient Or Recent. Let's reanimate some of The Past's Best, and get things underway. This round will be a general group.

Top 5 Dead Dinner Party Guests

1. Mary Lincoln

2. President Abraham Lincoln

3. Edgar Allan Poe

4. Oscar Wilde

5. Cleopatra

So, I went pretty historical on this one, I know. I think we'll do another round that's more focused so that I can get some of my political and journalistic faves in there. But, come on. Don't even try to tell me that a dinner party table with Oscar Wilde and Mary Lincoln isn't going to be something. Toss Cleopatra in there for some far left-field mayhem (she was married to her brother--twice), and now you've got something. President Lincoln and EA Poe can sort of be a little melancholy together and then be jollied out of it by Mary and Oscar. Seriously, this is one incredible dinner party. I can speak French with Mary, too.

Your turn. Assemble an awesome Dead Dinner Party of your own. We can't wait to see which parties we'll crash.

How Come Everyone Thinks I Need This Stuff?

People, there comes a time in everyone's life where it is time to re-evaluate basic needs relative to the amount of things that he (or she) has. For me, I try to do this once every couple of months and sort of systematically weed out things that everyone thinks that I need. Upon further review, here's a list of

Stuff I Don't Need Anymore

1. Spoons.
2. Beer cozies.
3. Strainers for the disposal.
4. 98% of TV channels.
5. Daily news.

In order to streamline your life, I have taken all of the thinking out of the equation for you. You're welcome.

1. A few summers ago, I decided to renounce the spoon. For several months, I simply did not use a spoon. I mean, seriously, what real use do they provide. Soup? Sip it. Ice cream? It'll stay on your fork. Trust me. Mashed potatoes? Please. Even rice. If it is made properly, it will be dense and moist enough not only to pack a flavor punch, but also to sit proudly atop your fork, remaining atop it for the duration of its ride from plate to mouth. It became fun to annoy girlfriends, friends, parents, and especially my brother by strutting my forking self over to lay the spoon to rest where it belonged before a meal. (In the garbage? Tempting, but in this case, I am referring to the drawer.)

2. Where the hell are all these people that sit on a beer so long that they need to find a way to keep it cool for more than 10 or 15 minutes? I mean, really. Just. Drink. It. I'm not saying that one should pound one's drinks. Not at all. Enjoy them. Relax with them. Just do it in a timely manner. I swear on all things sacred, if it takes you longer than 15 minutes to drink a beer, you probably didn't want it in the first place. In this case, you are basically stealing. That's right. You are stealing that beer from someone who not only might have actually wanted the beer, but also knows that beer is only useful if one drinks it. Cold. And promptly.

3. My mother is particularly fond of our sink strainer. Nobody knows why. For the rest of us, it gets in the way. Of everything. Of me rinsing out or wiping out the sink after a meal, for starters. But most egregiously, it stops food from entering the bowels of the disposal. Also, if you forget to remove said impediment, you then have to rinse the disgusting meal remnants out of the beast to get it to the...yep, the very thing the strainer is designed to keep it from, the spinning, whirling, all-consuming blades of the disposal. Silly, really. Isn't it?

4. Does anyone need C-SPAN? No. How about MTV2? Doubtful. Fox News? Please. Even I will admit that there are too many sports channels. ESPN, ESPN2, ESPN Classic, Fox Sports...the list is really endless and rivaled only by the number of 24-hour news channels all telling the same story. People, find one you like and trust, roll with it, erase the rest. I promise you that, one way or another, you will be able to hear approximately 92,567 different opinions on the price of oil from one channel. Try it. It is liberating, really. For example, the television in our livingroom skips from channel 15 directly to 26, courtesy Yours Truly. Once you erase one channel, you'll think "Holy shit, that felt great. Book C-SPAN, you're next!"

5. We get it. The economy sucks, Cash for Clunkers was a rousing success, California is dealing with their Crisis Of The Week, and it is still baseball season. Everyday, it is the same crap. Over and over again. You know how when you lift weights they tell you to go every other day so that your muscles don't treat your workout with a sense of "ho-hum, fuck this?" Let's apply this to the news. It may actually have an interesting effect...THINKING FOR OURSELVES. Imagine if there was news on Monday and they gave you Tuesday to reflect on what you learned; come back to it with fresh eyes on Wednesday, get some new stuff, and think about that in time for Friday. Colleges do this with class schedules. It is a system that is tried and true in every regard. Let's make this happen.

So, readers, what do you think? Challenge yourselves! Live without some things. In current economic times, people often talk about tightening financial belts and making sacrifices. Who the hell wants to do that? What fun can be had there? Instead, tighten your frivolity belts in terms of daily usage and viewing. Just a suggestion. Keep fun stuff, eliminate boring unnecessary stuff, and see if it makes each day just a little more interesting. I like to say that we should always try to be fantastic. However, if you can't be fantastic, at least be interesting. One thing is for sure, eating Jell-O with a fork, while perhaps not fantastic, is ALWAYS interesting.
--

JPD

Stuff That Needs To Be Straightened Out...For Me, Anyway

Our world is a confusing place, and even though I'm pretty damn smart, there are a few things that I have to admit I just don't get. Oh, I'm not talking about the usual Big Stuff, like republicans and geometry and why some hysterical Wrinklies are all steamed up about Health Care and a Public Option when they have been happily subscribing to Medicare and riding free scooters from Wilford Brimley all this time. No, I'm talking about

Random Stuff I Just Don't Get

1. The Emphasis On Women's Feet
2. The Bathtubs In The Cialis Commercials
3. Shelf Paper
4. The Big Deal About Breakfast
5. People Doing A Lot Of Stuff Outdoors

So, after I work 'em, maybe you can help me out.

1. First of all, what is up with all these (primarily male) photographers in magazines like Vanity Fair and Entertainment Weekly and whatnot taking photos of female celebs in frou-frou gowns and bare feet? Or the Sally Field commercials where she hawks Boniva and she and the little "granddaughter" are both barefoot? And all these products like a Ped-Egg where you grate off your dead skin into a receptacle? Holy crap. We're talking about FEET, people. Yikes. If I have to read one more Super Feminine Piece Of Bullshit in a magazine somewhere with the cutesy word "pedi" in it, I'll slit my wrist. For the record, I have never pumiced, Egged, had a pedicure, or any of that baloney. My heels are not cracked; my toenails are not polished. Leave my feet alone.

2. If Cialis is a medication to correct male erectile dysfunction, how is sitting in separate, clawfoot bathtubs out in the great wide-open an immediate product reference? Personally, I enjoy a nice, hot 45-minute soaker with a good book, a beverage, and dim lighting. ALONE. Sex in a regulation bathtub full of water is one of those "sounds romantic until you actually try it" things. The goofy thing here is that Cialis doesn't even try that metaphor. The couples are each in their own little tubs, barricaded from one another by enamel coated cast iron and some airspace. Huh?

3. I currently have this much shelf paper in my house: zero. Does anyone even use this stuff anymore? When I first moved into my house 25 years ago, I was all about it. It was the thing to do. I'm not sure I understood why, but my mother and my mother-in-law and my grandmother-in-law were pretty damn firm regarding shelf paper. WTF? Wipe down the shelves, stack up your stuff, the end. Those of you that do have it, how often have you replaced it? If you have, why?

4. I hope all of you are sitting down. I do not eat breakfast. EVER. And guess what? I live. OMG. Here is another Shocking Fact. No one in my home eats it. I come from a long line of Breakfast Shunners. I think all that Breakfast Is The Most Important Meal Of The Day crap is bullshit. I struggled to eat breakfast my entire life, and all it did was frustrate the hell out of my poor mother and make me nauseated for the first few hours of each day. She finally gave up and so did I. I went on to excel in school, reach my goals, attain my chosen career, and vote Democrat. Also, to marry a nice guy. So there.

5. Ladies and gentlemen, we have evolved as a civilized society to the point of creating shelters with roofs to protect us from the elements. This includes our conveyances, such as cars. Why then do people persist in having outdoor parties and weddings? Why do they choose to pay to eat outdoors at restaurants? Why do they fling themselves down super-heated asphalt roadways at the mercy of the elements? Why not take advantage of the science and technology that our intelligence and evolution have wrought? No. Instead, we must contend with wind, bugs, heat, humidity, and other natural inconveniences for...I can think of no good reason. NOT ONE.

What Stuff don't you get? Or...can you help me to understand any of this Stuff?

We're Such Party Animals: Another Little Event, And This One Is So Smart!

It's still Dinner Party Time, and you're the host or hostess. You're feeling like some especially stimulating conversation about Big Ideas--you know, inventions, concepts, the kinds of things that require labs, a whole talk show to themselves, or a whole book to explain. So, for this round, you tell us which 3-5 Big Thinkers (still alive and kicking) you'd invite for dinner. This one is a toughie, I know.

Top 3 Big Thinker Dinner Party Guests

1. Stephen Hawking

2. Dalai Lama

3. Richard Branson

Okay. Tell me this dinner party isn't going to be a hoot. You've got Stephen Hawking, who will be using his synthetic voice device, explaining the entire universe in scientific terms. Then, you've got the Dalai Lama, who will be metaphysical and serene and wise and ethereal. Then, for a whole lot of very mercenary fun, you've got Sir Richard Branson of the megabusiness Virgin Freaking Everything, who basically has formed ventures ranging from selling records out of the trunk of his car to opening a chain of healthcare clinics. (No, I am not kidding.)

Plus, I know I'd get plenty out of the conversation. Now, your turn. Which bigheaded smartypants people are on your list?

It's Your Party, And You Can Have Whom You Want To: Top 5 Cultural Commentators

I don't know about you, but I dread going to parties. I especially dread going to gigs like wedding receptions, moreso if I know that I'm going to be the only person there whom I know. Why can't I be sure that I'll sit with some really kickass people who will be fantastic to talk to? I chatted about this idea a bit at my other blog and thought it might be fun to talk about here.

Let's do a few rounds. I'll set some guidelines each time. This round is Cultural Commentators. The deal is this: You're giving a dinner party and you can invite 3-5 people. (For this round, they must be alive. We'll get to the Dead Dinner Party in later rounds.) Who would they be? Here are my:

Top 5 Cultural Commentator Dinner Party Guests
1. Ken Burns
2. Rachel Maddow
3. Tom Brokaw
4. Garrison Keillor
5. Garry Trudeau

Let's talk about my Guest List, but just a little bit. First of all, I know--only one woman (but what a woman!) and my girl Hil is not on it. Basically, I'd rather wait to talk to her when she's not holding public office and isn't all constrained by politics. There's some humor there with Trudeau and Keillor, but they are both also incredibly smart and insightful. Brokaw has seen a lot of news all over the world but strikes me as very human. Ken Burns, the documentary filmmaker, (credits include The Civil War, Baseball, Jazz) would be incredible to talk to...about anything. He has one of the most haunting quotes--to me, anyway,--of all time: "There are no ordinary lives." I think my list is pretty nicely balanced. I also know that there is no big honking republican on it, but that is so that I am able to eat as well as talk. Ahem. And listen.

Okay, so which Cultural Commentators are on your Guest List? And, it's okay to invite any of mine as well. I'm sure they'd be happy to be so popular.

When The Spirit Moves Us

We are nothing if not mercurial here at Stuff. We cannot simply be forced into the mold of The Common Herd. We cannot follow The Rigid Rules Of Everyday Society. We can only post when the mood strikes us. (Some of us more than others, but that is another matter. Ahem.) There are other things for which conditions must be perfect, for which the planets must perfectly align--aside from the obvious--and here is a sampling:

Stuff I Have To Be In The Mood For

1. a new book
2. a movie
3. the phone
4. hotdogs
5. drinking

I am in the mood to elaborate.

1. Even when I bitch and moan about having nothing to read and get a shipment of new books from my boyfriend, I often cannot start reading right away. I have to wait until I'm ready to read. It's beyond annoying. I hate myself for this proclivity, but there it is. Right now, I have two books sitting on my coffee table, and I haven't delved into either one of them. I'm just not sufficiently in the mood yet. Well, let me tell me something, dammit. I'd better get in the effing mood double-quick!

2. One of the reasons I broke up with Netflix is because a film sat under books and magazines in the living room for months, unwatched, costing me eleventy thousand dollars because I could not commit to watching it. Oh, sure, I could have just sent it back and gotten another one, but I would have simply NOT WATCHED THAT ONE, TOO. IT JUST DIDN'T MATTER. That film could have been oh, "Full-Frontal Male Nudity With British Male Narration Plus Bunnies!" and I would still have let it sit there. I just hate devoting a huge block of time to anything unless I am completely in the right frame of mind. I'm such a horrifying psychotic project; I know it.

3. My aversion to the telephone is epic and well-known. Ask my mother, the poor sainted woman who never hears from me unless she pretends to be on her deathbed. Whenever she sees my children or my siblings, her parting shot is always, "Tell Nance that she does still have a mother!" In order for me to telephone anyone, even her, I have to go into an empty room devoid of distraction, lie down, and force myself not to look at a clock. As you can imagine, I rarely initiate a telephone conversation, so being in the mood is noteworthy.

4. I eat hotdogs (actually, usually a hotdog) about twice a year. Charred on the grill, please. With authentic Cleveland Ballpark or Bertmann's mustard. And, regretfully, onions. (Regretfully because they will cause me to belch for hours afterward.) My husband is a fan of hotdogs and often mentions them as a summertime dinner suggestion, which usually causes me to make the "I'm going to throw up in my mouth face" because I'm almost never, ever in the mood for them. But once in a while he gets lucky.

5. Drinking, as everyone must know, is different than "having a drink." Jared--it must be mentioned here--is still learning this, as most twentysomething males are. He can sit out on the deck and undertake Drinking at the drop of a hat every night of the week. I, as a fifty-year-old person with a history of migraines, cannot. I do still enjoy some Judicious Drinking every now and again, but I have to be in the mood.

Good thing I'm at the end here because I'm sort of not feelin' it anymore. What do you have to be in the mood for?

Stuff That Is Dead To Us

Somewhere along the line, something happened. An episode, an accident, an incident, whatever. The point is that sometimes in life, something happens and turns us against things. You go your whole life having no real issue with something, then....BANG. That thing is now dead to you. To hell with that thing. You'll never use that thing again, eat that thing again, watch that thing again, or go to that thing again--that's how much to hell with it.

I, Jared, declare the following things

Stuff That Is Dead To Me

1. The semicolon.
2. American League Baseball.
3. Chocolate Cake.
4. Ranch Dressing.
5. Vodka.

1. Why do we need this? Can we simply not just...make a new sentence? I have never understood why it is that people use the semicolon. That, and it is also infuriating when the grammar check on Microsoft Word wants me to use it. For what? You are dead to me, Semicolon.

2. Until they do away with the designated hitter, I am left with no choice but to do away with AL baseball. The same teams every year are good, the same three teams always stink or start off hot and come back to earth. Plus, being in the American League means that on every team, there is a guy who is making the same salary as other guys...to only play half the game. Good riddance, AL Baseball.

3. The most overrated thing ever is chocolate cake. Especially with chocolate frosting. Stop doing that, everyone, or you're grounded. If you are dying to have chocolate so badly, why not just go buy a Hershey bar? It's cheaper, it's easier. Part of me thinks chocolate cake to be pretentious. Good day, Chocolate Cake!

4. Of all things, this is the one I am most passionate about. Stop putting Ranch on everything. It does not go on pizza. Ever. I don't care. I don't want it on my chicken. And please, can we stop sullying and embarrassing bacon by associating it with ranch? Chicken Bacon Ranch pizza, wraps, even fucking soup. Bacon Ranch Pringles? Stop it. And simply adding BBQ to ranch doesn't make it "Southwest Ranch". All you have done is ruined the BBQ. Fuck Ranch.

5. OK. So here is the thing with Vodka. It's for girls and people that didn't know what they were doing when they started drinking, so they just ordered it and now it's "their drink". I have never really liked vodka, but I tolerated it in shot form, or as part of a recipe for drinks...stuff like that. Until the bachelor party. Ike got married and we went into downtown Cleveland for the bach party. A friend was buying the drinks and before I knew it, I was sucking down Vodka and Red Bull like it was my job. Felt like hell for two days and last time I smelled vodka, I gagged. No. More. Vodka. Ever. That's how much fuck vodka.

We're double-teaming you this post, so here's Nance:

Stuff That Is Dead To Me

1. Cheetos
2. Red Robin
3. Texas
4. Gin
5. Margarine

Sigh. Cheetos and I used to have a major relationship. When the bigass checkerboard Cheetos came out, I even bought my own bag and, sadly, hid them from my children. (I am not proud of this.) Many of my fatpounds could be attributed solely to Cheetos. Then, one day, Cheetos turned on me. I felt an oily roiling in my stomach and a wave of nausea like a fluorescent orange tidal wave. I did not gurge, but damn near. Damn near. As of that moment--and it was probably about six years ago--I swore off Cheetos for good.

Red Robin is a franchised burger joint that Rick and I used to go to about every Friday night. Until two things happened: (1) It became so kidful and noisy that I got frantic and wanted to slit my wrists after a week of teenwrangling at The Rock; (2) I found out that they use a conveyor-belt type machine to cook their hamburgers, not a flattop or grill, which explained why I could never, ever, ever get my hamburger with the correct amount of pink in the middle and instead got a grey overdone slab of meat. Dead to me.

I know I have lots of blogfriends in The Lone Star State, and I don't want to offend anyone, but ever since The Dark Times (i.e. The Bush Years) and having Texas shoved down our throats, I have a terrible preconceived idea of this State. That, and all of the Food Network specials that show all the huge steaks being eaten competitively and the overabundance of "Tex-Mex" food and the fact that everyone there can't eat anything unless it includes chipotle or barbecue makes me want to avoid this place like the plague. All that, plus Tom DeLay, Country Music, the Bushes, Gary Busey, Renee "I Need A Sudafed" Zellwegger...yikes. DTM.

Gin. Oh, boy. Even talking about it makes me gag. Let's just say that there was an episode in college and leave it at that. (At least give me credit for remembering the episode.) Gin? Huh?

Finally, margarine. Listen, there are about 100 calories in a tablespoon of butter. There are about 90 in a tablespoon of margarine because they spin in some water. Oh, but think of what you are giving up! Succinctly--just your soul! It's OIL AND WATER, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. I used to use margarine all the time--Fleischmann's, to be exact, and it is still the best of the worst. But butter is better. It tastes so much better. I put a stick out in my little crockery Butter Cow and it is rendered spreadable, so no worries there. I abhor the fakey taste of margarine, but I have to buy both because Rick is still Margarine Dependent. But to me--Margarine = Dead.

So, think long and hard, Stuff readers. What, after long last, is now Dead To You, and why?

I Need To Be In Charge Of Selling Stuff

I'm not ashamed to admit it: I am a tireless advocate for bunnies. And apparently, as ridiculous as this may seem, I am the only one! For example, every Easter Season, I get all excited because I think "Finally! Now there will be some bunnies on tv!" and every year I am profoundly disappointed. What the hell is the matter with everyone in the advertising business?

Even the Cadbury people have abandoned bunnies. This is unacceptable. Bunnies, be they large or small, baby or full grown, lop-eared or antenna-eared, are always adorable. They are the perfect vehicle for selling a myriad of products. Here, then, is my list of

Stuff That Could Be Sold Using Bunnies

1. Fabric Softener

2. Vegetables

3. Pregnancy Tests

4. Athletic Shoes (esp. kids' shoes)

5. Earphones/Headphones

6. Hearing Aids

7. Garden Fertilizer

8. Bed Linens, esp. blankets

I'm not even going to explain these; they are obvious. I'm just going to pelt you with adorable bunny pictures instead to convince you to take up my cause. Get ready.

Hey, All You Elitists Out There!

I hope all of you are keeping score out there. Pretty soon this is going to be Stuff On My List.

Just sayin'.

Onward.

Yesterday, I had a lovely snack of brie and apples after school, and it got me to thinking about how, if Some People heard about that, I'd be accused of Being A Snob. Well, that would be fine with me, but it would be silly. Like all that flap about Barack Obama and the Democratic Party being elitist. What a load of bullshit.

Anyway. Here's a list of So-Called

Snobby Stuff I Like

1. Brie
2. The Shaw Festival

3. Champagne
4. Nonfiction
5. NPR

How hilarious is this list? Oh, I could add more, but this is representative of the stuff I mention in conversation that gets me the sort of looks and comments that earn me the Snob label.

Brie? I get mine in the grocery store. Champagne is easily gotten at any retail outlet that sells wine and is available under so many labels that it's no big deal. And the "P" in NPR stand for Public, for heaven's sake. How is it snobby? The nonfiction thing is a puzzler, too. I guess people are befuddled by the fact that I am an English teacher, yet I don't choose to read "stories." I'm a student by nature--I love to learn things. I guess Jared said it best once when he said that when you're done reading a nonfiction book, it never really ends; you can continue to research the topic online or in other books and sources and keep finding more out about it. That's a big reason why I prefer nonfiction. Its stories never end. Finally, the Shaw Festival is a wonderful place to see terrific professional plays in excellent venues, and it's in Canada, one of my favorite vacation spots. I really enjoy live theater, and the Shaw produces dramas that happen to be written by some of my favorite playwrights.

Am I a snob? In some ways, yes, I'll admit I am. Do these things make me a snob? I don't think so. What snobby Stuff do you enjoy?

I've Got My Stimulus Package Right Here

(box reads: wine of the month club)

This comic strip is about the only humorous thing I've seen (or heard) regarding The Big Economic Bailout. Frankly, I'm sick of hearing it bandied about in the news, in conversation, on the radio, damn near everyplace.

In the spirit of this strip, here's what would be inside

My Stimulus Package

1. Champagne

2. "The Last of the Mohicans" and "The Age of Innocence" starring Daniel Day-Lewis

3. Steamed Lobster and Drawn Butter

4. 80-degree Weather

5. A Ban On Cellphones

Obviously, no explanation necessary.

5 Things You Miss About College Without Realizing It

So, I am starting the second week of my last semester of college. Terrifying, I know. I had an incredible break at home with my family and friends and I didn't want to come back. However, there are things you miss. Friends, throwing the football in the hallway, and tearing down signs that your RA posts. Here are

5 Things I Missed About College That I Didn't Realize.

1. It is totally acceptable to run in the hallway at 3 AM for absolutely no reason.
2. You can say things that are incoherent, and somehow, everyone knows what you mean.
3. Not doing anything.
4. Being able to simply scream "FUCK!" and not have anyone panic.
5. The gender non-specific cashier at the Circle-K.

Explanation:
1. Look, I can't explain it, but sometimes, I feel the complete and overwhelming urge to sprint down the hall. This is odd. Mainly because I. Hate. Running. I have never felt the urge to run. Mainly because I'm sure that it was that I HAD to run. Not that I COULD run.

2. My buddy Spinner gave me the following directions to the Sprint store which we were trying to find to get our friend Bower Tower's phone fixed: "Oh, dogg, I know where that place is. You do too. It's on the other side of that thing." I reply, "Word." I knew that the other side of the thing meant that I had to cross over Airport Highway. That's the other side. The thing is Airport Highway. Perfect.

3. No classes for MLK day. Solid. So I...sat around. I was worthless. Also, I ate an entire pizza. Large. Pepperoni. Cool Runnings was on TBS, so I watched it. In my underwear, with a Coke Zero. And when TBS re-ran it...I did it again. With a bag of Skittles and a Cherry Coke. What more could I ask for?

4. The other day, I realized that I had done laundry and that the laundry I had done was still damp. I pulled out a t-shirt I had planned to wear. It was soaking wet. I threw my head back and shouted "FUCK ME!" at the top of my lungs. About five minutes later I got a text from my neighboor reading "Solid?" I reply "Truth." He says "?". I say "wet laundry." He responds "brutal." This is what I'm talking about.

5. I have no idea what this person is. Real nice...guy? Girl? And it is named Kris. Kristopher? Kristen? Kristy? Nobody knows. And strangely, I'd like to keep it that way.