I’m wearing Fruit of the Loom and Hanes, thank you. Oh, these are Payless sneakers, thanks!


I watched the Oscars and found that compared to the show, one commercial in particular was the best target for heckling. The Aquafina commercial with people hugging and carrying bottles of water while Karen Carpenter sings Top of the World. I grew up in the ’70s, I like the Carpenters, I like Top of the World. I know a commercial was pretty much what got them noticed to begin with, and if it does it again, yay.

I just don’t understand the whole “Make your body happy.” thing.  WITH WATER.


On the other hand, almost everyone I wanted to win, won. Beyoncé wasn’t bad, Chris Rock won me over with his Gap vs. Banana Republic dig, and no one wore swan dresses, so the only thing I can think of to heckle would be the silly aisle awards. I mean, WTH was that. On the other, other hand, I could just be getting older and mellower with the heckling.


I’m overwhelmed with death this morning. Sandra Dee and John Raitt were bad enough, but Dr. Thompson. OMG. I’m bummed. I wanna go watch Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas again.

Meanwhile, I drew today’s strip, and then played Monopoly with myself, because I’m snowed in. I have the EGA Monopoly Designer Kit written by Richard Tom, where 16 “people” can play. I play all 16. I’m currently beating myself after rebounding from a steep rent I had to pay myself on Kentucky Avenue, while I also languish in Jail. I play cuthroat Monopoly, man.

The wonders of radio frequencies.

I was able to make my idea of beaming satellite into my head a reality for less than $50, and this is the family-friendly account of how that happened. I didn’t really break my hand, but it felt that way at the time. I’m happy to report that the termites didn’t reach the closet, as I never would have been able to kick my way out of the closet organizer if they had. Well…I would’ve but I’d be downstairs in a broken heap right now.

I’m mostly listening to Sirius 22, because it’s the most like WLIR, the station that was sold for $60 million to Unvision to be a Latino Mix mirror station. It doesn’t look as bad as it really was.

So, I haven’t gotten anything else done. Just listening to radio through my television.

I feel 12.

The holiday edition.

Today’s strip brings home a very serious topic facing today’s music.

All-Christmas radio stations.

Just about every city with a Clear Channel-owned light music station goes all-Christmas around this time of year, and the one close to me is no different. Lite-FM featured a poll on their website asking when they should start playing Christmas music, and sadly, “Immediately” is winning. I’m a person who does Christmas, when it is actually December, and when I was a kid, I used to wait for the music to start hitting the radio stations–here and there, maybe a 24-hour run on Christmas eve…but this is ridiculous. I don’t care if the ratings are wonderful, something is wrong with a culture that needs to hear 1,740 hours of Christmas music in one sitting.

Last year I was unprepared for Mariah Carey telling me she wanted me for Christmas as I was sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner, but this year…I’m ready.

I’ve gotten a bunch of cheap electronics together to create the ultimate portable satellite radio. When I manage to position the receiver for the remote control that can go through walls in such a place where it doesn’t change the television channel next door, I will be free to wander my home, listening to the radio stations given to me by the gods of Dish Network.

This is a drastic switch for me, btw. I’ve fought with people who have run away to satellite radio, while radio for poor people goes to hell (that’s what I was told by one nasty little person that needed to validate his need for a $400 radio and $120 subscription fees, that FM radio is now for lower class people only). But it all changed the other night, when I accidentally hit a 6 instead of a 9 and ended up on the ’80s music…and heard Olivia Newton-John singing Xanadu.

So while the rest of New York is being run over by Dominic, the Italian Christmas Donkey, I will be wallowing in my childhood music, until maybe the 20th of December or so…Provided I stay out of line with the furnace, for some reason that kills my transmitter.

(Oh yeah, kids, Band Aid was the British band. Not the one with Michael Jackson, that was USA For Africa and We Are The World isn’t really a Christmas song unless now we only care about others for the holidays. If anyone asks you if “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” is a song about ignorant westerners being clueless about Africa, ask them what Christmas song isn’t. Thank you. Nobody messes with my memory of Band Aid, dammit.)