In ancient Crete, “Sunday” meant “day when Jeff’s relatives visit and moon over his offspring, leaving him little time for anything else.” Today I am a Cretin. 

Is it true the New York Times editorial page editor was caught diddling an underage chicken named “Pretty Pecker”?  Or did I just eat too much salsa before bed again?

Is it true the New York Times editorial page editor was caught diddling an underage chicken named “Pretty Pecker”?  Or did I just eat too much salsa before bed again?

Today is Friday the 13th. Avoid juggling black cats.  And picking on witches. Trivia *The ancient Chinese regarded the number 13 as lucky.  Until the lot of them were devoured by locusts and pandas.  The newer, more prudent Chinese, I’m told, routinely cane the thirteenth person entering a room to within an inch of his or her life. *Some sources say the number 13 was intentionally vilified by the patriarchs

Knock knock. Who’s there? Dead fighters loyal to Moktada al-Sadr. Christ, not more of you guys.  For the last time, we don’t have any virgins for you here.  Try downstairs, okay?

e=mc² I served heroically in Vietnam, I’ll have you know&178;*

Were Ted Kennedy a Swingline stapler instead of a beefy, patrician, hydrocephalic Massachusetts Senator, the waitresses at the Chinatown Hooters would be sporting perky pink asscheeks stuck through with staples instead of perky pink asscheeks coated with hot sauce smears shaped like the Senator’s greasy, saliva-soaked fingerprints.

*Click pensive Mookie for details (h/t RWN sidebar)