Show us what you hold in your hands the most every day.
Submitted by lezlee.
I, um, don't think I'm allowed to post a picture of that on Vox.
Okay, we hate to ask, but... over the roll or under the roll?
OVER! There can be no debate. Heather is, as her website once declared, "still crazy" if she actually believes that "under" rot.
What would the title of your autobiography be?
Submitted by princesskasren.
I Guess You Had to Be There
Anyone in the tri-state area able to tape/DVR or otherwise videorecord "Broadway Under the Stars" this Saturday on WCBS at 7 pm and provide me with a DVD or VHS copy of same?
A reward of some sort and my ever-lovin' showtune gratitude would be yours. Please be in touch.
I love you.
What song was the number one song on the charts the day you were born? How about the day you turned 21?
On the day I was born, folks were appropriately grooving to "Love Child" by Diana Ross (and the Supremes). On my 21st birthday, the world elected "Blame It on the Rain" by Milli Vanilli number one, where it would remain for two weeks. BARL.
Well, the one that sticks out in my mind is the Nike Y2K commercial, for one bizarre throwaway aspect of it. You may remember the one: Guy rolls out of bed on January 1, 2000, pulls on his sneakers and goes for his morning jog, as civilization collapses around him. Cars are crashing, buildings are burning, a very typical apocalyptic scene going down as he serenely runs on.
And then, near the very end, in the distance behind him, you see a giraffe run across the street. A giraffe! The world is ending due to poor COBOL programming and the animals have escaped from the zoo!
I would watch that over and over whenever it came on.
(There's a similar commercial I spied a few weeks ago, with a pissed-off lobster in the background. It wasn't as successful from a branding standpoint as the Nike ad, since I couldn't for the life of me place the product.)
I hated eggs in almost any form, especially fried or poached. Now I love me some eggs, especially fried over easy.
So for the past few nights, I've been watching two-year-old episodes of Desperate Housewives.
(Thanks to the Internet, I can catch up from the very first one,
although the show is apparently now in its second season. Tonight, I'll
start episode eight.)
It's really good. Really, really good. Plus all that James Denton and Jesse Metcalfe scenery. Yum!
Great cast, crisp writing, soapy but not sudsy. I'm quite surprised
I haven't heard much about this show. Y'all should check it out.
Much like my dates and daily conversations, my typical Hallowe'en costume is based on a high concept that only I get. My favorite was the year I dressed in all black with a clerical collar and a hockey goalie's mask, carrying an axe.
Can you guess who I was?
Well, of course: Jason, priestly.

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