Abigail: I love leap years. It's like anything you do today counts as being twice as productive as normal.
Me: I should have filed my taxes today. Get double the return maybe?

If you type "eric zorn" "die happy" in Google my web page comes up. At the top of 4 pages. I'm not sure if that's good, or...weird.

While shopping at Borders yesterday I came across a VHS in the bargin bin titled Regis Philbin - My Personal Workout". The back had Regis wit like "To supplement my personal workout, I've asked Kathy Lee, my wife Joy, and yes, even Gelman to demonstrate their own methods for keeping fit and trim," "Anyone can do this workout (except David Letterman!)," "Trust me on this one, O.K.?" and the direct quote from Regis hiimself: "My workout works!" A sticker on the front also calls the video "The final answer to fitness." The video was $1.99 and I still set it back down. Oh Rege, stick with handing out millions of dollars.

Scene: Today at work I was hole punching some documents, when Leah asked me if I wanted her to finish. I refused, telling her I'd finish it off.
Leah: Once you start poking, you gotta finish.
(pause)
L: Like Poke-ahontis
Me: Like James Poke
L: James K Poke
M: If you were Gumby, I'd be Pokey
L: Oh, I don't know if I can top that one.
(several minutes later)
L: Ooh! Poke-emon! I win.
M: I'm not done yet.
L: Well it's pretty dried up.
M: Yeah, I was thinking of something like Diet Poke, but that's stretching it.

Have you truly made it when others blog about you? Or for that matter, your blog? Currently, to the best of my knowlege, I have been mentioned in the online journal/diary/blog of pornstar Bret Wolfe, and my blog has been mentioned at the site StrawberryMustard.com (which sells, you guessed it! strawberry mustard). Oh if only Eric Zorn would mention me in his blog! I could die happy.

Amazingly enough, after I typed the above blog this morning, I found a search feature on Google that is able to look up what sites have links to your site (which can be found here). While searching this I discovered a guy (who is either named Josh or Jeff, and who's site is at www.electricschwa.com) that has a link on his blog to my site, listed under the section of "Good Reads" (where my site is listed as Live As Josh, rather than the actual title of My Life As A Josh). I can figure out nothing from this man's site, other than the fact that he drives a Mini Cooper and has just visited Las Vegas. Josh/Jeff, thanks for thinking I'm a "good read".

Speaking of the Hebrews, there's a great magazine out called Heeb: The New Jew Review. It's worth a look now and again, and can be viewed on the web at www.heebmagazine.com. It came out when I was in high school, but for some reason we never got it in at the Barnes & Noble in Wheaton. Hmm, I can't imagine why.

Of the seven ancient wonders of world, the only wonder that still exists is the great pyramid of Giza. That just goes to show the good work the Heebs can do when they put their mind to it.

You say it's your birthday? You're a liar. It's my birthday. Get the hell out of here!

Today I was at an HR page for a company, the heading "Movers & Shakers!" at the top of the page, detailing people changing positions or leaving the company. Then, at the bottom of the page I read: "Do you know someone who has been moved or shaken and should be listed in Movers & Shakers? Please send all notes and press releases to adam@eprairie.com." Quite honestly I don't know if I want to know anyone who has been moved or shaken. I mean, shit.

Read this today and found it entertaining:

LONDON (Reuters) - Outkast fans like to "shake it like a Polaroid picture," but the instant camera maker is warning consumers that taking the advice of the hip-hop stars could ruin your snapshots. Outkast's number one hit "Hey Ya" includes the "shake it" line as a reference to the motion that amateur photographers use to help along the self-developing film. But in the "answers" section on the Polaroid Web site, (which you can view here) the company says that shaking photos, which once helped them to dry, is not necessary since the modern version of Polaroid film dries behind a clear plastic window.

The image "never touches air, so shaking or waving has no effect," the company said on its Web site. "In fact, shaking or waving can actually damage the image. Rapid movement during development can cause portions of the film to separate prematurely, or can cause 'blobs' in the picture."

A Polaroid spokesman added: "Almost everybody does it, thinking that shaking accelerates the development process, but if you shake it too vigorously you could distort the image. A casual shake typically doesn't affect it." Polaroid said its film should be laid on a flat surface and shielded from the wind, and that users should avoid bending or twisting their pictures.

Of course, "lay it on a flat surface like a Polaroid picture," doesn't sound nearly as cool.

This morning Bernadette and I were walking to the train in the morning, when we walked past a van with some dog daycare thing on the side of it. When we got closer to the van we noticed that a small white dog was sitting in the drivers seat and the engine was idling, yet there was no human in sight. Clearly the entire idea of this dog daycare was for dogs and by dogs. A block later we looked back and the van hadn't moved; we guessed that maybe the dogs couldn't work the gas pedal or something.

Yesterday, as a lovely Valentines Day suprise my brother had his wisdom teeth pulled, and being the good little brother that I am, I agreed to stay home alone with him all day so he didn't hurt himself while hopped up on Vicodin. The day went as follows:

1pm: I arrive at Micah's apartment where he is wrapped up on the sofa in a robe and blankets. He is watching a horrible documentary about high school on MTV. I unpack my bag with soup and tea. Micah tries to form sentences.
2pm: I make a run to the White Hen and pick up three different kinds of smoothies, several cans of soup broth, Gatorade, iced tea, and coffee. The cashier looks at me as if I'm trying to hydrate a small country. I keep my eyes down.
3pm: We watch Sex and the City, when Carrie goes up to the country to stay with Aiden. Micah begins to feel his teeth again.
4pm: Micah takes another vicodin. I wash some of his dishes and check my e-mail.
5pm: I begin to feel the second hand effects of the vicodin, much like second hand smoke. Micah has not left the sofa in five hours.
6pm: We begin watching Law & Order: SVU. That "Dum Dum!" noise at the beginning of each scene isn't annoying yet.
7pm: Hour two of SVU. I'm beginning to think I could do their job. Micah is beginning to think he needs another vicodin.
8pm: Micah takes another vicodin. We debate between SVU and regular Law & Order on NBC. We go with the regular. The "Dum Dum!" noise has become annoying.
9pm: We return to Special Victims Unit for hour four. Cannot, for the life of us, figure out what makes these victims so goddamn special.
10pm: We settle for Law & Order: Criminal Intent. We have now seen every possible take on both law and order. I feel for Jerry Orbach and his bad jokes.
11pm: Law & Order is not on any station and we are confused. We begin to go through L&O withdrawl. Instead, we watch Saturday Night Live, where two seperate skits are done in which Jimmy Fallon plays Pat O'Brien from Access Hollywood. Both Micah and I fail to find the humor in excess Pat O'Brien.
12am: Micah takes another vicodin. I make a second run to the store, this time buying more smoothies, teas, soups, and making a step up to semi-solids by buying yogurt. We watch more Sex and the City and eat yogurt.
1am: Micah's boyfriend gets home from work, praises me on what a good brother I am for taking care of Micah, and announces that he's going out to get a drink.
2am: Because he begs me (and I feel bad that his boyfriend is deserting him) I give Micah another vicodin. His boyfriend leaves.
3am: Sensing that he'll be fine (and realizing that I've been on his sofa for more than 12 hours), I leave Micah, catching a taxi home and going to sleep.

Happy Valentine's Day everybody!

Disclaimer: While the issue discussed in this blog may not be funny, I believe the ending is. That's just me.

The other night Bernadette and I were sitting and talking, and the issue of fixing the lock on our back door was brought up. Lately there have been several rapes in our neighborhood by a serial rapist who sneaks into apartments in the early morning through unlocked doors or windows. While we had locked all our doors and windows, Bernadette was (rightly so) insistant that we fix the faulty lock on the back door.

It was at this point that Bernadette said (adopting the tone that someone uses when they refuse to sit next to a nerd on the bus ride home from a fieldtrip, or wear a dress that makes them look fat), "I am not getting raped." That settled that.

See, I had this craving for Oreos. So when I got to the store they had regular, and right next to them, they had the Double Stuff Oreos. So I think to myself, "If I really just wanted a chocolate cookie that's what I'd get, but clearly I'm in this for the cream stuff. So why not get double stuff if given the option?" So I got the double stuff. Now my stomach kinda hurts. Oh Oreo.

After a friend and I commented during a conversation that Asian restaurants can have some odd names, I took to the internet and compiled this list. Actual Asian restaurants:

*Fortune Kookie
*Wok and Roll
*Mr. Thai
*Ms. Egg Roll
*Dr. Zushi
*Once Upon a Thai
*Tie Me Up Noodles (where they evidently forgot that it was supposed to be a pun, and now it just kinda sounds like some S&M restaurant)
*Hey Sushi
*Wok In
*Wok's Happening

From the AP:

A big, black Newfoundland canine named Josh won Tuesday's best in show, the top award, at the Westminster dog show held at New York's Madison Square Garden. Typically, the award goes to smaller, more graceful dogs, AP reports. But Josh, a 155 lb. animal, was the largest dog to ever win the show. The contest drew 15,000 dog fans.

That's right. I'm a 155 lb. animal, and I'm taking home the top prize!

An now, proof of how focused a man our president is.

Remarks by the President to the Press Pool
Nothin' Fancy Cafe
Roswell, New Mexico

11:25 A.M. MST

THE PRESIDENT: I need some ribs.

Q Mr. President, how are you?

THE PRESIDENT: I'm hungry and I'm going to order some ribs.

Q What would you like?

THE PRESIDENT: Whatever you think I'd like.

Q Sir, on homeland security, critics would say you simply haven't spent enough to keep the country secure.

THE PRESIDENT: My job is to secure the homeland and that's exactly what we're going to do. But I'm here to take somebody's order. That would be you, Stretch -- what would you like? Put some of your high-priced money right here to try to help the local economy. You get paid a lot of money, you ought to be buying some food here. It's part of how the economy grows. You've got plenty of money in your pocket, and when you spend it, it drives the economy forward. So what would you like to eat?

Q Right behind you, whatever you order.

THE PRESIDENT: I'm ordering ribs. David, do you need a rib?

Q But Mr. President --

THE PRESIDENT: Stretch, thank you, this is not a press conference. This is my chance to help this lady put some money in her pocket. Let me explain how the economy works. When you spend money to buy food it helps this lady's business. It makes it more likely somebody is going to find work. So instead of asking questions, answer mine: are you going to buy some food?

Q Yes.

THE PRESIDENT: Okay, good. What would you like?

Q Ribs.

THE PRESIDENT: Ribs? Good. Let's order up some ribs.

Q What do you think of the democratic field, sir?

THE PRESIDENT: See, his job is to ask questions, he thinks my job is to answer every question he asks. I'm here to help this restaurant by buying some food. Terry, would you like something?

Q An answer.

Q Can we buy some questions?

THE PRESIDENT: Obviously these people -- they make a lot of money and they're not going to spend much. I'm not saying they're overpaid, they're just not spending any money.

Q Do you think it's all going to come down to national security, sir, this election?

THE PRESIDENT: One of the things David does, he asks a lot of questions, and they're good, generally.

END 11:29 A.M. MST

To prove this is not a spoof, visit the actual site on whitehouse.gov at http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2004/01/20040122-5.html.

Bush has done a lot for our country. He gave us the Western White House. He gave the press nicknames ("Stretch" for David Gregory from NBC, "Panchito" for Frank Bruni from the New York Times, and "Dulce" for Candy Crowly from CNN, among others). He even gave world leaders nicknames (sadly, I'm not kidding that Russian President Vladimir Putin earned "Pootie Poot", the BBC reported). And he ruined the country's budget surplus, getting the National Debt Clock turned back on again. The National Debt Clock, put up in Midtown Manhattan as a political message in the 80's was turned off in 2000 as the government ran a surplus. But thanks to President Bush the Debt Clock is up and running again.

As of 11:48 am today the national debt was $7,018,440,785,677.81

Dubya, keep up the good work!

Did you know that you can figure out how important your state was circa 1961 by adding up the area code's three digits, with zero equaling 10? It's because zeros used to take forever to go around the little rotary dial, while ones zipped along the quickest. The lowest possible code, 212, went to the busiest place, New York City. Los Angeles got 213. Alaska got 907. I guess Chicago didn't do too horrible for itself ending up with 312. At least we're no 702. That would be Las Vegas.

Tonight, while cleaning out behind a radiator, I found a folded up piece of paper. It was actually a note I had written to Bernadette while she was on the phone, answering a call that the caller ID identified as only "Private Call". The note is as follows:

Sarge: Drop and give me 20 Private Call!
Private: Sir, yes sir!
Sarge: You call those push-ups son?!
Private: Um, yes?
Sarge: You make me sick Private Call!

I remember the note having the desired effect, and Bernadette laughing in the middle of her conversation while she was on the phone with Private Call.

In the January 15th issue of Newcity (a weekly Chicago independant rag) the cover story announces "10 Chicagoans We Love To Hate!" Inside the list covers everyone from rapper R. Kelly to Trib columnist Mary Schmich, and all of Chicago's celebrities inbetween. They give their take on Ditka ("Ditka stands as the epitome of everything we fight against. Because of him, we're characterized as bulky, brutish, blue-collar jokes with slicked-back hair and overgrown mustaches"), Ira Glass ("When Glass counts off the chapters in the beginning of every show, it's starting to sound like nails on a chalkboard"), Bob Sirott ("Chicago Tonight staffers whispered concern that Sirott would turn the in-depth news, arts and culture show into "Fox Thing at Night." Well, guess what? They were right"), Richard Roeper ("He's like Ryan Seacrest spliced with Bill Zehme, our city's trademark metrosexual"), and even Joan Cusak ("Maybe we're just sick of seeing the scrunched up face of Chicago's sweetheart everywhere"). And while I won't' admit to loving to hate everyone on the list, it's hard to disagree when such valid points are made. To really get your blood boiling read the entire article on the Newcity website here.

In an article I read today, Jack Whittaker from Virginia said he gets calls all the time from people assuming he's the same Jack Whittaker who won over $300 million in the lottery a few years ago. He's not. "When he first won the money, I was getting thousands of calls and letters," Whittaker said. "They all told me their hard luck stories. A lot of people would even cry on the phone." I can relate, because people call and write me all the time, confusing me with the Josh Eisenberg who discovered the cure for polio. Oh no, wait. Wait, that was Jonas Salk. Nevermind.