Newton's Law
My wife made American Chop Suey last night, but with ground turkey. I ate a couple heaping plates of it with four pieces of bread. Later, that night I had an upset stomach and spent a substantial amount of time in the bathroom. Damn that chop suey! Later, I remembered that I ate about 20 Fig Newtons through the course of the night. Maybe that had something to do with the little attack I had. My apologies to the Chop Suey. Damn you, Fig Newtons!

Hillary killed her boyfriend!
Have you heard the story about Hillary Clinton killing her boyfriend in a car accident in 1963? Turns out she was driving her car through an intersection and just happened to slam into a car coming the other way driven by her boyfriend. Yup, it was totally by chance! Just to reinforce that point: he was driving in a different car.

She smashed into his Jeep, throwing him from the vehicle and breaking his neck. I'm sure it was a big mistake, not like they had a huge fight and she was pissed. Of course, officials in her hometown won't release the full accident report to this day. And the left-wing media won't even touch this one. Add the boyfriend to the list of hundreds killed by the Clintons, maybe right after Vince Foster.

(P.S. All of this is true, except it happened to Laura Bush. Imagine how the right-wing crazies like Rush and Sean would still be spinning this story if Hillary had done it.)

Go young man and thin not
I stole that headline from a column Mike Barnicle wrote for the Boston Globe in the 1980's. I don't feel guilty about stealing it since Barnicle himself was eventually fired for stealing a bunch of stuff for his columns. I spent some time with a local politician yesterday who is as famous for his bad hairpiece as he is for his legislative bombast. The thing on his head resembles the dead squirrel I found on my front step over the weekend. Of course, the king of local pols with a bad piece is former Providence Mayor Buddy Cianci. I once got a peek at one of his toupees as it rested at a local salon for a tuneup. Turns out he had a few of them and they were rotated in and out of the salon for occasional fine-tuning. Cianci is now in a federal pen for extortion and some other assorted misdoings. I imagine his hairpieces are just sitting there waiting for him, like a space shuttle looking to hook up with a connecting station on the moon. I'm 37 and my hair is shaved really short. I would never wear a piece but I like to work my way through the scenario that would unfold if I did. In one day, I would go from no hair to a coiffure that would make Stone Phillips jealous. What would people say? "Is there something different about Brett?" No, what they would say is "Holy Guacamole, did you see that thing?" How do you prepare people for the shock, the jolt, of a new you, one with a thick mat of hair so ambitious, so towering, that everyone who comes in contact with it is stunned into silence? The only way it could ever work is if you move somewhere where noone knows you. Then, at least some people might be fooled. "Quite the head of hair on the new guy, huh?" I'm not going to do that. But if one day, you suddenly find I've moved out-of-state with no notice, don't come looking for me. And if you do, just look for the guy with hair like John Edwards.

Itch for Clark
Yesterday, a group of Clark supporters spent about 5 hours on the Route 95 overpass on Smith Street waving signs at oncoming motorists. It was pretty chilly, especially when the wind kicked up. I don't know if I have dry skin or what, but I got really itchy, mostly in my rear and upper thigh regions. So I was there on the overpass scratching myself like a coon dog. That's the way to get someone to vote for your guy -- scratch yourself like a degenerate on a highway overpass.

While we were there, fellow Clark supporter Steve Wend told me he had been doing a little math trying to get his mind around the $87 billion. Here's what he came up: if you spent $1 million a day, it would take almost 240 years to spend $87 billion. Just wanted to share that with all of you who love Bush but think you're a fiscal conservative.

Let the protest letters fly!
I'm sure those conservatives who went bananas about the Reagan mini-series and were successful getting it kicked off CBS have a little energy left. Pick up your crayons, gang, and write to NBC about tonight's Jessica Lynch movie. You love the truth, right? The thought of dishonesty on a television movie angers you even more than the idea of women in the workplace, si? Well, let NBC know you are pissed that the movie they're putting on has nothing to do with reality. Our source? Uhhh, Jessica Lynch herself. She has said she didn't even get off a round, let alone fight and claw until her last breath. When the story came out in April, the information came from "US officials." Now, the Defense Department says it was the media that blew her story up. But it had to be someone in the government who gave them the story. So, my conservative friends, start your writing!

Fashion debate
I watched the Democratic "Rock the Vote" debate with great anticipation the other night. Not because I expected to hear anything different, but because the candidates were appearing before a group of twenty-somethings so I knew there was an opportunity that something really dorky would happen. The first question was: how would the candidates dress? Of course, Dean had his sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. Sharpton took his jacket off and then unbuttoned his vest. It was not good. Clark and Kucinich had pretty much the same thing on, a black mock turtleneck with a dark suit. Clark looked pretty cool; Kucinich looked like he would either bust into a folk song or order an attack on the U.S.S. Enterprise. I'm sorry, but he is a weird looking dude. The best part was the 30-second videos each campaign produced for the event. Lieberman's was the best (meaning worst) with this insane techno music that would literally melt your brain if you had to listen to it for more than one minute. The other videos also had crazy music and editing. Dean's was actually sped up so he was moving around all fast. Do the candidates think all kids are on ecstacy or something? I wanted to switch to decaf after seeing all the videos.

Hot blanket
My wife has this big, puffy blanket that she busts out when the weather starts to turn. When you lay on top of it, it's like a big cloud. When you lay under it, the trouble starts. It takes a few seconds but it gets about 300 degrees under the blanket after about 20 seconds. Last night, I came to bed late and she had already pushed the hot blanket to my side. I got under it but I got so uncomfortable I had to push it off me. In a bold strategic move, I pushed it in a big bunch on her. Take that! The hot blanket is on you now! She just threw it on the floor. I hope it didn't land on one of the cats or the damn thing will be a pile of bones and fur. Ahhh! The hot blanket!

Open letter to George
Dear George:

I know the Administration's strategy is to not talk about casualties or soldiers who have had their limbs blown off in Iraq. Still, it would have been nice if you at least once mentioned the downed helicopter and the soldiers who lost their lives over the weekend. You've made a number of public appearances since the downing of the helicopter, but never mentioned them. (Is that a "Yes, Mr. Rove!" I hear in the background?)Also, your Administration has forbidden the media from filming any of the caskets of dead soldiers coming home. The Administration complains that the media isn't carrying the good news about hospitals and schools reopening. Of course, the fact that we blew those places up in the first place shouldn't enter into the discussion, right? George, I have a request: go to at least one funeral of a dead soldier. Look the family members in the eye and tell them how you let Cheney, Rummy, and Wolfowitz talk you into something you never understood and that had nothing to do with 9-11. And here's something else you should say to families: "Those young men and women who died had more guts in their little toe than I have in my whole body." Feel free to use those exact words, Mr. President.

Save Freddy G!
I was never a cat person, although my wife and I have five cats now. Here's how it happened: we had one cat Ruby and about two years ago, a pregnant street cat ended up in our basement. When she delivered, we gave away as many as we could, but kept the two we couldn't give away and adopted the mother cat. Now, there's a stray in our neighborhood who we feed. We named him Freddy G after a guy who plays golf with our next door neighbor. I've only met Fred G (the golfer) once when he came to pick up my neighbor, who we call Melrose Cousin. Fred G (the golfer) has a vanity license plate "fredg". The day I saw it was the day the stray cat started showing up on our doorstep so we named the cat Freddie G. As for Melrose Cousin, we call him that because he had a cousin who acted on Melrose Place. I can't remember our neighbor's real name or the name of his cousin who was on Melrose Place for that matter. The point of this post is, Freddie G (the cat) is available for adoption and he's awesome! Let me know if you're interested,

Reunion rejection
A guy I work with graduated from high school with me. I don't really remember him but he's a nice guy, although he might have been a jerk 20 years ago. Who knows? Our 20 year reunion was last month and he kept asking me if I was going. I wasn't interested in going. I just wasn't sure what I would talk to anyone about. I went to my wife's five year reunion at Yale. One of the only people I met there who I liked was my wife's old boyfriend who now works for Troma Films, the company that make the Toxic Avenger movies. That was pretty cool. The rest of them were getting advanced degrees and seemed only interested in telling everyone how well they were doing. My college reunion would be "Remember the time you threw up off the balcony and it hit so-and-so?" I'm not sure what I'd talk about at my high school reunion. Maybe about how skinny I was and how I had braces for all three years. The truth is, I blew off so many days of high school and never got caught. The reason I never got caught was not because I was slick. I never got caught because I never got in any other kind of trouble so the administration had no idea who I was. They probably thought I was just a sickly kid.