Does anyone remember laughter?

The great bit about humor, is that when trying to funny I’m usually not, and when I’m serious, the Wife falls down laughing. Like when I asked if my hair was thinning. Men out there know, no greater question faces a man over thirty. Well perhaps the risk of fatherhood or a heart attack. But losing hair ranks high on the obsess list.

Sam( using a handheld mirror ): Honey, is my hair looking thinner on top?
The Wife: I knew it was a mistake to buy a new mirror. Now you can actually see your whole head.
Sam: So that means I am?

Snatching the portable, The Wife tosses it in the trash. The glass breaks, shards rattling against the sides of the empty receptacle.

The Wife: Not that you can see.
Sam ( points to broken mirror ): Isn’t that seven years bad luck?
The Wife: Beats watching you stare at yourself all night.

Calling All Fockers

Are you a no good, lowdown, dirty old Focker? And if you are, is your first name Gaylord or Martha? Oh boy, luck has smiled on you today my friends! Years of torment and insults from peers are about to reap rewards of the very public kind.

What do I mean? If your last name is Focker, then Sony Pictures wants to talk to you. Yep, Hollywood is calling and not even collect. Ask for Ben “Little Ben” Stiller. Martha Focker! At last you have bragging rights over your cube mates, Bob Schmuck and Ira Lipshitz. This is a big time, serious tribute.

Reading about this promotion reminded me other unfortunate appellations. I thought to myself, what better time for a list? Here’s my favorite names with great potential for comedy, in no particular order. Please add yours to the comments.

NOTE: The names you add must be real, none of this Ben Dover business.

1) Christopher “Chris” Coe
2) Harold Lutz
3) Mitch Gaylord
4) Dikla Weitz

Hiking and Hangovers

There’s no more painful treatment for a hangover quite like a hike up an iced over hillside with a stiff wind to the face.

Sure, some swear by orange juice and aspirin, water and ice packs, or a taste of whatever inflicted the mortal wounds the previous night. I prefer a long bout of physical exertion. The more excruciating the better.

After sampling every hangover “cure”, at the advanced age of thirty one, I’ve accepted the following reality: there are none, only the the choice to drink excessively or not. Ah, such problems.

On other fronts – the bookstore exceeded expectations – particularly for the first week. Orders arrived on every business day, with a nice, nice bump on the weekend. All I can say is sweet. Buddhapuss may earn a slice of sushi pizza by New Years.

The only thing I’m not happy about is the amount of writing. Very slow movement there, not sure why. Perhaps this week the answer will reveal itself.

Fudgie the Whale

For some reason I just can’t stop laughing about Fudgie The Whale, from Carvel ice cream. I’m getting my mom one for Mother’s day next year. And that’s in addition to the newspaper and a carton of milk.