Wait a minute - the Pope gets to pick his own name?

Since when? That's awesome!

But apparently this awesomeness has been taken for granted & kicked to the curb. Benedict? If you're gonna go the Denny's route, at least pick Moons Over My Hammy.

Personally, if I suddenly started farting white smoke, I'd change my name to either Craphonso or SirValiant. Or maybe even Ozone.

Food Pyramid Fever!

I think I have a case of it! Let's examine the new groups.

Yikes, seal your windows with duct tape! Ha ha, just kidding - I'm talking about the Grains group, not the Terror Alert Level.

Brown rice = good, white rice = bad. Somewhere Uncle Ben weeps quietly in a darkened alleyway.

I think you're supposed to eat darker veggies, like black beans, spinach, brown rice... wait, I thought that was in the grain group.

Some of my favorite fruits include apricots, blackberries, and Charles Nelson Reilly.

Don't even think about it, fatass.

Whatever happened to the "I hanker for a hunk of cheese" guy?

Wait a minute - the "Meat and Bean Group"? Beans are already in Green. What the hell is that crap?

A Few Things:

1. Hollywood has stolen yet another one of my ideas. If any of you schmucks put out Sanford and San with Noriyuki "Pat" Morita and the Donger I'll sue.

2. Good to see Cedric getting a paycheck.

3. Can I get $2 off my ticket if I promise to do Cedric's designated driver dance for the duration of the movie?


I love the smell of Emmys in the morning

Sorry I haven't been posting too much lately, I've been tied up in discussions with the WB about a new sitcom proposal. A delightful romp through the heart of the heartland, it's the story of an All-American family -- only instead of Alan Thicke or Michael Gross, the head of the household is:

Def Leppard.

The band is totally psyched about the show - working title Pyroburbia - although I'm not sure how we'll be able to get around their Rock and Roll Double Header tour. The initial readings for the pilot - Rub Some Lanacane On Me - have been sensational. Anne Schedeen nailed the seductive hausfrau vibe of Mrs. Leppard, and that kid from Jerry Maguire is a real hoot as the feisty-li'l-rascal-yet-still-a-good-kid teenage son.

What would you do with $20,000?

Would you buy a new Hyundai Tucson? Invest it in a well-diversified portfolio of mutual funds?

I know what I'd do. I'd spend it on five magical words: An Evening With Digger Phelps.

Just me and the little lady, curled up in my rumpus room with a bucket of Popeye's and a pitcher of manhattans, listening to the Silver Fox wax nostalgiac about Tracy Jackson and Orlando Woolridge... dissect the intricacies of the box-and-one... reenact his favorite scenes from "White Chicks" with finger puppets... and then cap off the magic with a rousing medley of Andrew Lloyd Webber show-stoppers.

How sweet would that be?

Answer: Not quite as sweet as According to Jim...On Ice!