How to have a doggie bed

Ever since I mentioned that I sleep on a doggie bed (i.e., a mattress on the floor), I've been inundated with requests from readers. They say, "Oh, Keith, I want to have a doggie bed too! But I don't know how to handle my fears of...you know." I've probably gotten hundreds of such emails, if not thousands.

It's really quite simple. Here are the Three Rules of Having a Doggie Bed:

First Rule:

There are no spiders anywhere in your home. Why would they be? You're a very clean person.

Second Rule:

There is no such thing as a spider. Spiders come from dreams. They aren't real. So never worry about encountering a spider.

Third Rule

Get white sheets and blankets so you'll be able to see the spiders clearly as they march onto your doggie bed.

Special Bonus Rule:

Never look at this photo.

New moderation rule for the blog

In light of the Ebola epidemic, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take the temperature of all commenters before allowing them to post anything. I'm sorry but I must protect my own health and that of visitors to this blog.

So beginning immediately, another layer of moderation has been added. Here's how it will play out. Once you've successfully identified the usual Captcha characters, a thermometer will thrust itself from your computer screen. Simply place your mouth around the thermometer and slip it snugly under your tongue. Be patient! The computer will provide an alert to let you know when you're done.

If you hear a pleasant chime, this means you do not have a temperature and thus do not have Ebola. Click "Lucky" and your comment will be posted.

If, on the other hand, you hear the clang of a mournful church bell, get thee to a nunnery or a hospital, your choice. (Pssst: the hospital will probably work out better, you know, in the long run.)

That is all. You may now return to your normal lives.

Can you hear it?

Listen. You hear it, don't you?

Phshwiiit. Swiish. Floop.

That's the sound of bloggers everywhere pulling pants on over their boxers! That's right - we're wearing clothes! It's time to gear up for Autumn.

Listen! The sound is louder now. More bloggers must be waking up and donning their gay apparel. It's such a beautiful thing. Someone should put words to it and make a song.

Phshwiiit. Swiish. Floop.

The sounds of the season. How I love them!

A peek in the mirror

You know how you're having a nice day, and then you walk past a mirror in your house -- and see a pair of jockey shorts draped over your shoulder?

And you realize that you put them there when you were folding the laundry three hours ago?

And then it hits you that you've just gone to the library and the supermarket looking like this?

Glamour. It's so elusive! Stay classy, people. I always do.

Studies suggest...

Studies suggest that many people reading this blog are not actually alive. These "people" are zombies. This is something up with which I cannot put. Thus I must determine if you, the person reading this, are alive. But how can I do this?

Wait a minute! I'll bet zombies can't get through the captcha verification system (those squiggly letters you have to decipher in order to post a comment). That's the ticket! Okay here's the deal. If you are not a zombie...prove it by commenting on this post.

UPDATE

I posted this two minutes ago and there hasn't been one comment yet. OMD, it's true -- you're all zombies!

I may have to rethink my blog in light of this new information. I'll get back to you.

Dog will save us all

That's Dog in the photo at left. (See the image on my main blog here.) He appeared to me last night, in his second dogly Visitation to my humble home. What can I say? Dog loves me. (Don't worry. Dog is omniloving. He loves you, too.)

As you know, there is no god. But there is Dog. He is not an omniscient, all-powerful being like the nonexistent god. He's just Dog, the most insightful creature ever to visit the Earth.

A note about the above image. Dog is notoriously camera-shy. Because I knew this and was hoping he'd visit, I had a camera set up behind a two-way mirror. Sneaky, huh?

See, Dog likes to look in the mirror. During his last visit, he told me (in his charming language of barks) that there are no mirrors in the Realm from Whence He Comes. So it's a novelty for him to see his reflection and he gets a real kick out of it. (Apparently, only Earth creatures look at themselves in mirrors. Dog says that on all the other inhabited planets, nobody cares what they look like.)

Because Dog knew I had a mirror, he wore that cross around his neck. He thinks it's hysterical, as you can see from the smile on his face. In fact, right after this photo was taken he fell to the floor in a fit of giggles. Dog says religion is the funniest thing about humans. Apparently, no other intelligent race in the universe has come up with such a silly idea. Just us. It gives earthlings a certain...reputation.

Anyway, all this is by way of saying "I bring you good tidings." I will deliver Dog's Suggestions for Humanity in an upcoming series of posts. For now, know that dog is here -- for you and for me. Always remember: In Dog's love, there is salvation.

Stay tuned. Arf!

Slight misunderstanding

I saw a cut-off headline on the NY Daily News page. It said:

"Wounded woman reveals most terrifying moments face-to-face with Santa..."

I thought, "Now what the hell has Santa Claus done!?" But it was a reference to the mass murderer in Santa Monica. I don't think I'm in prime form today.

Don't touch anything

Sometimes you can't get a story out of your head. The only thing you can do is curse the media for bringing it to your attention. There are things we were never meant to know.

Such as the fact that your smartphone is covered in feces. Apparently, fecal matter is everywhere. Though it's old news by now, this fact keeps buzzing around in my head. Feces, feces everywhere.

Look at your hands. See those fingers? They’re matted with fecal matter.

That food you just ate? At least 50% fecal matter.

And the screen you're looking at right now? Constructed entirely of fecal matter. 100%!

Take a deep breath. Hold it in. All fecal matter. Every bit of it. Okay, exhale.

It's just the way it is. But I didn't want to know about it. And now I've gone and written a post about it. Damn!

The joys of getting old

Oh, sure. People put it down. They want to look young (for some reason). And they're scared to death of, well, death.

But there's a lot to be said for aging. I like it! Here are some of the advantages that accrue to the aged person:

1. You can get away with anything. The worst that happens is someone says, "Ignore him. He's just some crazy old coot." Yay!

2. Most of the people you know are dead. Okay, I can see how some people might see this in a negative light. But the important thing here is that their memories of your most embarrassing moments died along with their bodies. Poof! All gone. It's like you're a new person.

3. Well, okay. I can't think of another positive thing about aging. But I like 1 and 2. Anyone want to append another?

Most boring movie ever

What is the most boring popular movie you've ever seen? This is an easy question for me to answer: Star Wars. I have never been so bored in a movie theater. If I wasn't with someone who was enjoying it, I would have walked out after 20 minutes. This movie also marked the beginning of the awful tradition of ruining horror and sci-fi with humor and cuteness.

What's your vote for The Most Boring Movie Ever Made?

The wisdom of the aged

Listen, you young whippersnappers. At some point (soonish), I'm going to share my old-guy wisdom with you. I haven't quite figured out what I'm going to say, but each pronouncement will be a genuine pearl of wisdom. Would you like to see a flash of the kind of thing I might flaunt? Probably at the top of my list would be something like this:

1. For heaven's sake, blot the cottage cheese with a tissue if it's wet on top.

So don't worry. Pretty soon I'll publish my final list of Important Things for Young People to Know. And then life, which seemed so hard, will become easy. You'll have the key, the code, the wisdom. You'll be set.

Oy: a perfect word

If you live in Manhattan you have not one, but many, Jewish friends. It just happens. And if you've had these friends for a number of years, you know all about the word "oy". Well, maybe not all. But you understand the word a lot better than your typical goyim.

First of all, oy is not as simple as it seems when you see it written down. It's just joy without the J, right? Oy, you gentiles! You just don't get it.

Oy is not a simple word. For one thing, it has at least four, perhaps five, syllables. If you're from Iowa or Arkansas, you probably didn't know that. It's a deep word, with its own world of pronunciations and uses. Yes, it's perfect to express casual dismay, which is the way it's usually heard. But it also expresses fear and foreboding (and surprise) -- and does so beautifully. (This is one of the times when the number of syllables grows). Oy expresses hopelessness like a jewel. It is the perfect word for the verklempt.

I could go on and on, particularly about the pronunciation. But it would be far better if you did a few years of field work. You really can't teach the use of the word; you have to live with it.

I'd like to close with a final thought that expresses the utter perfection of the word "oy". Oy is the yin of yo's yang. If you had any doubts about the almost supernatural nature of the term, surely this observation blew your doubts away. If not, oy.

Passingly

The headline said, "Biden Swears in Schatz". I thought, "Hmmm. Must be a Yiddish dialect."

Favorite inventions

My favorite human invention is conversation. My second favorite is Dawn Dishwashing Liquid. And my third is the Internet, which was invented by Al Gore.

What are your favorite human inventions?

Funny way to say you're hurt

Chris Rawson of TUAW (an all-things-Apple site) begins his column today with this:

It's a brief Rumor Roundup this week, partly because there weren't many rumors out there, partly because motorcycle accident + four broken ribs + codeine = very difficult to write coherently. Remember, kids, the rubber parts of the motorcycle are the ones that go on the ground. The goal is to keep them there!

I think that's a great way to announce that he had an accident. It reminds me of when I was learning to drive as a kid. The guy who taught me was my best friend, a guy who was a few years older than me. He began my training by telling me:

"The basic idea is to make sure your car and another car don't occupy the same space at the same time." 

It was great advice that served me well. I never broke the golden rule.