First of all, this is dedicated to all you douchebag Midwesterners who insist on saying "PAP!"

"Hello, I'd like a cheeseburger and a PAAP!! please."

*shudder* Like nails on a chalkboard. Thank God I was able to authoritatively clear up that whole debate, with multiple "soda" references. (And please ignore the egregious editorial mistake - not my fault.) Take your PAP and spray it where the sun don't shine, Midwest.

Also, I interviewed a girl yesterday who kept saying "baig" instead of "bag" - I swear, you crazy kids in the flyover states ... always entertaining! Alas, we can't all hail from the accent-free perfection of God's Country.


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Warm birthday wishes going out today to longtime reader JD^2, who despite his parents' diligent family planning efforts was born this day back in 1977.

29. Wow.

Imagine what he's thinking right now. 'How he's gotten a little slower, a bit softer, more injury-prone. Little bags starting to form under his eyes; hair thinning. The years have now shifted into fifth gear, and now he's staring down the dreaded 3-0: the year where you can no longer get away with doing several thousand things you still sadly think are fun and enjoyable because "you're 30" and no self-respecting mature adult engages in such juvenile behaviors. He just has to blink and it's May 4, 2007.

Poor guy. He's probably thinking, "Another year in the books and what have I accomplished??" Shorter of breath, and one day closer to death.

I think we all feel for JD^2 today. If he's lucky he'll wind up being the special guest judge for a late-night women's tattoo contest at a genuinely horrific downtown club tonight, so please keep him in your thoughts during this difficult 24-hour reckoning.