You'll go blind!

A small proportion of Viagra and Cialis pill swallowers have reported blindness as a side effect.  Losers.

"You're standing at the line, it's time to make the free throws."

Pepper your speech with these crocoPuffs-created, sports-related metaphors; people will respect and fear you!  You will become the recognized authority on everything!

Yesterday crocoWife and I were at a Spine & MRI clinic (more on that later).  Being an office that deals in busted-up spines, they have a ramp leading up to the door for wheelchair access.  At the bottom of the ramp lay a banana peel.

I shit you not.  With a low enough angle I could have snapped a photo of the banana peel with the office door in the background loudly proclaiming it's Spine & MRI-ness.  That would have been a sweet photo.  So sweet, in fact, I think I might bring along a banana peel later this week when we go back to the office so I can recreate it and take the picture.

In May 2004 I wrote "[Lindsay Lohan] looks so good right now, I can only hope she doesn't pull a Jennifer Connelly and go all skeletor at some point."

Well, if you saw Saturday Night Live this weekend, then you know she indeed went skeletor.  Did you see her arms?  She's in Ally McBeal territory with that string bean look she's sporting.

Also, she's desperately trying to hide her freckles.  I couldn't see any on her face which means one of two things: she's spreading on makeup peanut butter thick, or she's had skin treatments to get them removed.  I think she went with the skin treatments myself.  Her arm and shoulder skin looked kind of blotchy to me, like she'd had some futuristic laser shit done or something.

And the blonde hair isn't helping matters.

Don't you people get it?  ("You people" being celebrity type folks, not redheads.)  The reason we say "you're cute" is because you're cute.  We're not secretly saying "you're cute, but you'd be cuter if you were skinnier with a different hair color and bigger lips and a more angular face."  We like you to look the way you look naturally.

Lindsay, I know you're hanging out with Paris Hilton and Tara Reid and they've convinced you that anorexia is cool, but they're wrong.  There's a reason Paris is the punchline of a million jokes ... she's not very smart.  Try not to prove yourself as her equal in that regard.

Airports are taking a crack at some new scanning technology which sees through clothes, showing a virtually naked person in the image.  What nobody knows is that I've had this installed in my house for years.  Because I think seeing my friends and family "nude" is good times.

I don't see the big deal myself.  If they want to Superman me before I get on the plane to ensure I'm not carrying something evil, fine.  I don't care.

"We've scored the touchdown, now it's time to kick the extra point."

Pepper your speech with these crocoPuffs-created, sports-related metaphors; people will respect and fear you!  You will become the recognized authority on everything!

There are a lot of dumb jokes I hate.  I know they're intended to be cheerful little friendly blurbs, but goddammit, they piss me off!

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

Hardy-fucking-har.

That is the stupidest, cheesiest, oldest wisecrack in the book of stupid, cheesy, old wisecracks.

What I hate most is how overused it is.  Usually some nerd will whip it out on you when you ask the most benign of questions, like, "What kind of sandwich is that?"

And when I say "nerd", I mean it.  I think you know the kind of person I'm talking about here.  The kind of person who thinks "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," is funny.

Next person who says that to me gets a flipping ninja foot to the ass.

I've officially decided I will not watch The Matrix III, aka Matrix Revolutions.  It's been recorded on my TiVo for over a month, begging me to watch it.  I finally deleted it.

I liked the first, did not like the second, had no desire to see the third.  But I figured I'd watch it to finish what I started, you know, complete the trilogy for completeness's sake.  But fuck it.  I don't really want to see it and I heard it sucks anyway.  Fuck The Matrix.

The Sacramento Kings were eliminated from the playoffs last night.  Can't say I'm surprised, once they traded Chris Webber they seemed out to prove that winning on the road would be impossible.  And so it went, eliminated on the road in Seattle.

However, they didn't go out like punks in Game 5.  They played a hell of a game.  They showed up.  They just weren't good enough this year.

On the bright side, Maurice Evans played more than a handful of minutes, and I was very impressed with him.  He played well and I hope the Kings bring him back next season, I really like that kid.

Next season will be a whole new Kings team and I'm ready to find out exactly what they've got.  Hopefully there will be no injury excuses, and I'm looking for Geoff Petrie to pull another magical off-season out of his hat and put together a team that has a fighting chance.

My sister had her third child on Saturday (congratulations!), a girl to go with her two boys.

On my way to the hospital, my mom asked me to stop by her house and pick up a bottle of champagne which she forgot to bring.  No problem.

No problem, until we were walking towards the hospital entrance from the parking lot.  People were milling about in front of the hospital, talking grimly on cell phones, tissue in hand.  And here I come, carrying a bottle of champagne.  Let's party!

They looked at me with vitriol, as if I might any moment pop the cork and pour champagne over my head like I had just won the NBA championship.  These are things nobody ever tells you about.  I've never seen a Ms. Manners column speak to the etiquette of carrying champagne into a hospital.

However ... I made it through the entrance and lobby safely, no brawling required.