Firm or Soft?



I don't want anyone to think I'm picking on our good friends in North Korea, but, uh, why the pillow?  The old boy's got a lot more issues than a crick in his neck at this point, and let's face it, he ain't gonna be complaining about it.

No Need for a Halloween Costume This Year

 I don't know why my mind works like this, and it's really not fair to Matthew Moy, shown above, an actor in the CBS sitcom "Two Broke Girls," but if you want to tell me at least a couple of leaves are not identical in his family tree and the one belonging to Kim Jong-il's son, new leader Kim Jong-un, shown below, I will be forced to call you a liar.  Matthew looks like someone who would enjoy a good joke.  Kim looks like his interpreter just told him the joke was about him.

Audubon is Not Going to be Happy

I kind of had a Clark Griswald-Christmas Vacation moment when we went shopping for the tree this year.  They had a nice big one there for a decent price.  The wife starts right in with the parrot routine ("It's too big.  It's too big."), but of course the boys were all for it.  We get it home and get it set up and it clears the vaulted ceiling by a good two inches, earning the wife a look a disdain from the husband and the classic zinger, "Told you!"  I did not have an answer when she asked if she should decorate the top half or the bottom half since neither we nor Wal-Mart had enough ornaments to decorate it.  She can be a party-killer that way.  It looks great.  If you come to our house, you're kind of drawn to it right away, but the trail of tree sap from the front door really doesn't leave you much of a choice.  And it was kind of bear to run a sprinkler line into the living room so it wouldn't die, but all in all, I like it.

Can Times Be Any Tougher?

I'm at my softball game this week and one of the guys on the team brought his little girl to the game.  She's cute as a button, probably 4-5 years old and she spends the game playing in the dirt just outside the dugout.  About halfway through the game, I get up to go out in the field and notice she's playing with a cup.  If only this were a Dixie cup or a Solo cup, I would not be writing right now.  It was her father's protective cup.  For those seeking further clarity, let's just say it's the safe for the family jewels.  I didn't know whether to call HRS or Toys for Tots.  I'd like to think it was clean, but it's not really something you run through the permanent-press cycle.  Pity the Santa who has this little girl on his lap when she whispers in his ear, "All I really want this year is a jockstrap."  Isn't this why we have "Happy Meals"?