It's that time of the month again! Since it's the last day of the month, I'm going to share with you all the crazy things people searched for and ended up at my site because of. (Information from the Seach Keyphrases section of my Statisitics thingy in my site.)

After 76 search phrases, here are some of the best:

* do you always have to pee
* we prosecute married people
* pasta batman
* rick dias thermos
* crisiswear fashion
* bob edwards npr asshole
* diet poke
* eliza dushku travis freshner
* vicodin nicknames
* woks happening
* life size cardboard cutouts shania twain

Sadly, all these things are actually in my blog at one point or another. Sigh. Only in America.

A random conversation between Leah and myself while doing inventory at the library today:

Somehow getting on the topic of Bernadette's boyfriend...
Me: I used to call him Peapod.
Leah: Peapod?
Me: Yeah. Because when we used to need groceries he'd always be the one delivering them.
Leah: (laughing) Maybe you should have called him WebVan
Me: But WebVan is defunct.
Leah: Y'know, on the day WebVan went under I was supposed to get an order from them.
Me: Really?!
Leah: Yeah. And then I was reading Yahoo! news and it said WebVan went under.
Me: You had to hear about it from Yahoo! How sad.
Leah: So I called up Justin and said, "We aren't getting any groceries tonight." We had to order pizza the whole weekend.
Me: Sounds logical to me.

This morning at the library Kaytey was receiving the Society of Bookbinders Newsletter, appropriately abbreviated as the SOB Newsletter on the cover. Kaytey and I both had a good laugh, flipping through the newsletter, looking at pictures of people and going, "look at this SOB."

"Oh that guy is a total SOB," I'd say.
"Uh huh," she'd back up.

p.s. Does anyone understand what Harvey's comment on my KABOOM entry means? I mean...that just doesn't make any sense. No offence Harvey, but WTF?

The other day I was at Home Depot and I somehow wandered into the cleaning supplies aisle. And there, in front of me, was a spray bottle for tub and tile stuff called KABOOM. Now I understand that it's a big deal for cleaning supplies to appear powerful and tough on all the grime and filth that they're fighting, but KABOOM? (And yes, it was in all capitals.) I momentarily thought about buying KABOOM just to leave it sitting around my kitchen or bathroom so that I could impress people when they came over. "You own something called KABOOM?" they'd ask. "Yup," I'd reply nonchalantly, "I'm tough about scum on my tiles. What can I say."

The soap scum is just exploding off my tiles! It's KABOOM!

(see Kate's blog)

Tonight I got a call from my friend Billy inviting me to go see Catwoman. Now you may be saying to yourself, Josh, Catwoman doesn't open until Friday. That's true, but Billy used to work in marketing at Allied Domecq, the company that owns a slew of brands that includes Dunkin' Donuts, Malibu rum, and most importantly Kahlua. At one point in the movie while Catwoman is out "clubbin' it" she orders a White Russian, hold the ice, vodka and Kahlua - essentially just cream. But rest assured, Kahlua paid a lot of money for Catwoman to ask for it held. So, basically, Billy got free passes to the screening because the company he used to work for paid for Halle Berry to say the word Kahlua.

The movie itself (which also included a plug for Jaguar cars, and about a dozen people from Jaguar sitting in front of us made it painfully obvious when they clapped as the car made it's appearance) was pretty horrible. She wears tight leather, she jumps around, she gets convicted of crimes and has to clear her name. And for the love of God, who making these movies thinks all these little puns and quips (of course including one where she says "Purrrrfect") in the middle of fight scenes are a good idea?

Sigh.

About a month ago I blogged about a 70's cop/buddy show that Helf and I would star in (appropriately titled Helf & The Heeb). Well, in case that blog wasn't enough for you, here's a little visual.

On occasion Leah and I will unpack boxes of books in the receiving room down in the basement of the library. We'll get boxes of books from European countries (U.K. and Germany being the main ones), odd makeshift packing materials being used to pack the books (the weirdest ever being a Victoria's Secret turtleneck sweater). The other day the packing material was balled up pages of the London Times, the page that caught my eye being the crossword.

Well let me tell you, the British have some funked up crosswords. The only clue I got was 18 down (Q: Fizzy cola given to dad to drink. A: Pops Pop), but other clues were odd things like "What collier sports? Yes and no" "Sensing disaster, demand loo is repaired" "Central heating installed in chamber, on learned" and "Deplore trend bucked by unsuccessful claimant." I don't know what's going on over in London, but those crosswords ain't cool. They ain't cool at all.

At Kit Kat we have a jar of small York Peppermint Patties that we use in Mint Chip martinis. Last night when it got slow Shane and I were standing around eating a few.

Shane: Y'know...when I bite into a York Peppermint Pattie...I get the sensation of a cool breeze blowing through my hair.

On a side note, Shane shaves his head.

Micah and I were hanging out and window shopping today when out of nowhere Micah said

Micah: What would happen if I forwarded my phone to your phone, and you forwarded your phone to my phone? When someone called us what would happen?

Suddenly my brain hurt. What would happen?! It was like that episode of Star Trek where Spock tells the robots that everything Kirk says is a lie and Kirk says, "I'm lying," and the robots go, "But wait, if he's lying and that's a lie and-" and then their heads explode.

I'm glad to report that my head did not explode. Rather, I forwarded my phone to Micah's and he forwarded his phone to mine and then I called Kellie and told her to call my phone. After several minutes my phone never rang. I called Kellie back and she said that she just got a recording saying her call couldn't be completed. I can only hope that machines somewhere did not explode from the complexity of us trying that.

Last night Kel and I went to a friends birthday "gathering" which was (for some reason!) held at the bar Hogs and Honeys. For anyone unfamiliar with this bar, it's based off of the bar Hogs and Heffers in New York, which is what the bar in the movie Coyote Ugly is loosely based on. Got it?

So Kel and I pull up to the bar in a taxi, see all the motorcycles parked outside and immediately think of fleeing. Against our better judgement, we go in, pay our $2 cover ("$5 if you want this beer mug to use," the doorman informed me. "That won't be necessary," I told him), and walk inside. Inside there were big guys yelling, a guy riding a machanical bull, food all over the floor, and AC/DC blasting on the speakers. I have never felt more disgustingly Lincoln Park in my life.

We say hello and happy birthday to our already intoxicated friend and then make our way to the bar to get some drinks. I'm already a bit worried about ordering here, not even sure if something like a vodka and seven is realistic. Then, while my mind is wandering, Kel (bless her little Trixie heart) makes the mistake of ordering a Cosmo. The woman looks at her for a second, goes back to her register and picks up a microphone. "Can you believe this?!" the woman yells over the speakers. "This girl here just tried to order a Cosmopolitan!" The bar hoots, encouraging the woman. "This ain't some Rush street bar honey! We don't serve drinks like that here! We serve beer!" Correction: NOW I've never felt more disgustingly Lincoln Park. The woman comes back over to us and I simply say, "Just give us 4 shots of tequila."

Needless to say we did our shots and informed our friend that we were leaving. Five minutes later, safe in a taxi back home, Kel and I vowed never to speak of our trip to Hogs and Honeys again.

This morning Bern and I were in the kitchen and Bern was wondering why I didn't take out food for the dogs like she had asked the night before.

Me: I did, see. (I point to a package of chicken on the stove)
Bern: Those are breasts. I asked you to take out legs.
Me: Oh. (pause) Sorry. I just grabbed what I saw in there.
Bern: (sigh) No wonder you never made it past first base.

Today I was looking up something online when I noticed an online dating ad at the top of the page. The ad read, "Relax, you have our True assurance: We prosecute married people. No married people are allowed and we screen for felons. Date with confidence. True." I had no idea that married people and felons were such an issue in online dating, and that they were so easily lumped together. Evidently the line between someone who has committed a crime and someone who has committed to another person is getting smaller and smaller.

So needless to say I clicked on the ad. The first thing on the page that comes up are the words, "Warning! Married people need not apply." It goes on to explain that if you're married and apply for the service you could pay a fine of $250,000 and go to jail for up to 5 years. It closes with, "If you are married, please close your browser." Is it me or is this just getting a bit ridiculous?

This morning Bernadette and I were trying to decide what to do with our day...

Bern: You wanna go for a bike ride?
Me: I don't have a bike.
Bern: You can use mine. And I'll use Eds.
Me: Eh, I don't know.
Bern: C'mon.
Me: I haven't riden a bike in years. I don't know if I could.
Bern: Oh, it's like riding a bike, you never-
Me: Oh shut up!

Last night was exceptionally slow at Kit Kat, at one point everyone taking outdoor seating and leaving Jeff and I behind the bar and inside alone.

Around 10 a woman named Patricia showed up, saying that she had friends coming ("I do!" she kept saying, "They're not imaginary!"), and that they were all part of a book club. "What kind of book club is it?" I asked. Patricia explained that it was a single woman empowerment thing, that they were currently reading something called Midlife Crisis at 30, and it was all women who just sat around, talked about the book for a few minutes and then drank the rest of the night. In addition there was Mark, who was bi-curious and the groups only man.

Slowly but surely women (and Mark) trickled in ("See, I do have friends!" Patricia exclaimed), and Jeff bribed them to stay inside by giving them shots. But after a few hours, countless martinis, someone drunkenly falling over backwards in their chair, a martini glass breaking, and a woman asking for the music to be turned up 3 times, the women needed to leave the bar.

As Patricia got up to leave I asked her how the book discussion went. She simply laughed.

Bernadette is going camping this weekend with her boyfriend Ed and the dogs. In preparation they did a little shopping last night, and when I came home I found a shopping list on the dining room table.

Napkins
Cooler
Bug repellent
Dog bug repellent
Toilet Paper
Gatorade
Triple Sec
Cameras

I just sighed. Of course Bernadette would put Triple Sec on her camping list. "Only the necessities," Ed told me when I brought it up with him. ...Is this really my life?