1.  To TopSecretK9 for the Rescuers Down Under DVD.  I have a feeling the kid will soon be driving me as crazy with this one as he does now with Elmo in Grouchland, but hey—whatever makes him smile, right? 2.  To Tom Wigton, for The Outer Limits Season 1 DVD; I have fond memories of watching OL in syndication as a kid; looking forward to revisiting these episodes. 3.  And

Well, being alive I can’t really speak from first-hand experience, but if I had to make a recommendation, I’d say you could probably do worse than Elitch Gardens—especially if your condition gets you out of standing in long lines or paying top dollar for fried dough. And the fact that you’re already dead makes it a whole lot easier to trust the guy running the Tilt-O-Whirl—even though, should you want

Sure, it’s mostly MacArthur’s line, but I’ve decided to borrow it.  Because it ain’t like he’s using it anymore.

Ever lift up a flaking scab and find that smooth, mother-of-pearl patch just beneath?  Hard not to think of rebirth and renewal when you see that shiny expanse of healing.  —Which, incidentally, tastes just like chicken.

oatmeal:  “Just so you know, if I ever taste like licorice?  That’s probably because the previous night’s Sambuca shots have repeated on me again.  Which means you’ll want to walk away from the bowl and go have yourself a muffin or something. “Trust me on this one.”

—Uh, no. In fact, I’m so up to my elbows in paperwork that I force fed the little armored bastard a Ziploc baggie full of Quaaludes—then, when he fell into a comfortably numb stupor, I used a 3/8” linoleum blade to carve a relief of my signature into one of his little padded feet. Now, whenever I need to sign something, I just dip his wee whittled tootsie into an

Later. Back when all this is settled.  Once and for all.

…I’ll be at Coors field, watching a once-promising Rockies’ season disappear in a flurry of bad coaching and disappointing clutch hitting. On the positive side, at least I get to watch Josh Fogg pitch!  Which—for those of us too young to have seen Walter Johnson or Bob Feller or Bob Gibson or Juan Marichal throw live—is a rare treat indeed. Except that Fogg gives up, oh, say, 15-20 mph on

Via Hot Air, “Former ambassador Ed Peck defends Hezbollah”.  For the record.  On the teevee, even. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Carter Administration.  Or, as the Iranians are fond of saying, “the gift that just keeps on fucking giving!” More here.  But if that’s not enough, just pick up, say, The Turner Diaries. You know—for some extra Jew cabal flavor.

Looks like Hezbollah is borrowing a page from the Think Progress playbook. I know.  I’m as shocked as you are.  Because—as I’ve been reminded repeatedly by a host of helpful left-leaning commenters whenever I mention that such propaganda efforts have the potential to undermine liberalism and provide rhetorical cover for Islamists and their terror offshoots—the anti-war left’s rhetoric has no tangible effects, and suggesting that it does is just my