It’s been ten years since Kurt Cobain killed himself. Actually I missed the anniversary yesterday.

The unfortunate event seemed like a big deal at the time, but right about now it seems like a minor footnote to the whole grunge era. Speaking of grunge have you seen or heard any grunge music lately? Probably not. Any kids saying they want to be Kurt Cobain these days? That I can’t answer, but my bet is no.

The only thing I ever see when thinking about Kurt is his widow Courtney Love. Consider her recent court appearance ( with slight paraphrasing for entertainment purposes ).

Judge: How do you plead to these charges?
Courtney: My attorney is fired!
Judge: On what grounds?
Courtney: His tie is ugly. He must die! This court is a sham!
Judge: You’re not doing yourself any favors.
Courtney: Attorney rehired!
Judge: Are those needle tracks on your arms?
Courtney: Just some mosquito bites.
Judge: Mosquito bites in March?
Courtney: What can I say judge? Everyone’s looking for a little fix.
Judge: What is that you’re eating?
Courtney: Tic-tacs.
Judge: That looks like phenobarbital from here.
Courtney: I didn’t bring enough to share if that’s what you’re asking.

My new credo is to set a timer whenever I boil eggs on the stove. This morning, my eggs had been over the flame for awhile, but not too long ( or so I thought ). A loud crack pierced through the air suddenly, reminding me of my forgotten breakfast project. Uh oh.

Racing to the kitchen, the cracking turned out to be one of the eggs rupturing as it writhed inside an empty pot over a scalding hot flame. It just snapped and went postal inside there. The egg is now a pinnata. I’m happy to report the pot will survive and though it has some not so nice char marks on it, with any luck I’ll sort that out before the wife gets home. Oh, is the wife reading this? Everything is great, honey! Nothing is broken!

Speaking of eggs, here’s another tip. Let’s just say you have some well cooked hard boiled eggs sitting in the refrigerator awaiting future consumption. After peeling the shell and taking a bite, perhaps it might seem like a good idea to warm this stone cold egg. After all, mom always said don’t eat cold food unless it’s a vegetable right?

Please be warned. The microwave is no place to reheat a hardboiled egg, unless you want egg confetti.

Question – is it illegal to blog while intoxicated? Seriously, is that bad form? Not that I’m intoxicated at 2pm on a Sunday but…

Every so often I buy a copy of the Weekly World News, which is the 21st century equivalent of the Dukes of Hazard. Just like the Dukes of Hazards TV show at it’s peak, no one owned up to watching but somehow it was a top ten show each week, few people admit to reading Weekly World News. Yet despite this obvious handicap it manages to eke out highest circulation of any weekly magazine. Man, I love America!

So for those of you who don’t read it *cough* I’ll share a “story” from the March 29th, 2004 issue.

In a recent and shocking development, new photos in the WWN show that Marilyn Monroe was a vampire. Yes a vampire! But wait there’s more! Not only was Marilyn a vampire, J. Edgar Hoover ordered her killed to protect John F. Kennedy from being bitten.

But wait! There’s even more! Marilyn Monroe was only one of a number of Hollywood vampires. Also named are James Dean, Rock Hudson, Marlene Dietrich and Greta Garbo.

One great thing about the libel laws in this country, once you die, the facts cease to matter. Come on now, Marilyn a vampire? Granted she sucked, but I’m pretty sure she left the blood inside the organ. Of course, we’d have to summon the spirit of JFK to be sure.

En route to the post office the other day I had a run in with a vagranty type individual. I could be wrong on that, but between the vapor trails oozing of his body and the garbage hanging off his clothes were a good clue that this guy was a professional bum. At the very least he was a master understudy to the part.

Perhaps you do not live near a large metropolitan area and have never experienced the wonders of bums and bum interactions. My first bum run in was in Southern California. Over the years, a host of bum moments followed in places like Washington DC, NYC, New Orleans and Geneva, Switzerland. After moving to New Jersey, I discovered that outside of NYC, New Jersey has the most belligerent bums I’ve come across yet. Switzerland has the best behaved, in fact their one bum is very gracious.

But New Jersey bums? Fuggeaboutit. Even the women bums are vicious.

So I’m trying not to breathe and the bum says hi.

bum: Gimme a quarter!
sam: No.
bum ( explodes into a long string of obscenities and threats )
sam: That’s not a very convincing sales strategy.
bum ( more expletives )

Afterwards I mentioned this exchange to my father in law. He used to commute to NYC and he mentioned that he had the perfect thing to say to them. Here was his suggestion…

bum: Gimme a quarter!
father-in-law: Not today my friend.

I’ve tried his tactic now twice, and it’s worked like a charm. So if you’re in NYC or NJ and a bum wants money, remember – “not today my friend”. It’s the same as no, only better.