Eric Idle’s decided to say “f you” to a whole lot of people, by means of this new song. Only he doesn’t say “f”. And damn it’s funny.

(It is not, however, work-safe — play out of range of sensitive ears.)

But by all means play!
http://www.pythonline.com/plugs/idle/index.shtml

I went into a small Korean liquor store yesterday, to get a snack. There was a handwritten sign taped to the ice cream freezer - it read:

Out of work

::shrugs:: It’s the economy, what can you do…

Two minutes ago, while in the incredibly well-decked out lunch room of This Week’s Law Firm (free EVERYTHING!), I heard a lawyer say from the doorway “Would you mind giving us this room for just a moment?”

I turned to see the aforementioned lawyer…standing next to Harrison Ford.

Who was grinning that sheepish grin of his, and wearing an earring, which I didn’t expect. Not as tall as I thought, either. He’s a particular, affectionate favorite of mine, and has been ever since Han Solo, for cryin’ out loud. And I’d just seen him yesterday on TNT or some such whilst taking in the last few minutes of that guilty pleasure, “Working Girl”. The scene where he gives her the lunch box for her first day on the big job is beyond adorable, as is most of his performance - just immensely likable. I wanted to say so. I knew it was important for me to leave before anywhere near that much time had elapsed.

“Sure,” I said with a smile.

“Thanks very much,” he said in that pleasant growl of his, sounding nice, sounding sincere.

I got barely a glimpse of him, and left without any mention of his celebrity, as is expected in L.A. And as is my habit, I made sure my deference was strictly to him as a person, as I personally believe is a genuine courtesy.

And of course, this being ME and all, not only was I thwarted in getting to talk to him, but…since I was alone in the room before they showed, I’d just passed the kind of gas that could easily kill a large farm animal. And left them alone in the room afterwards.

Now it’s probably I better if I NEVER talk to him.

I’m forced today to listen to a co-worker’s “today’s best R&B!” radio station, which oozes the kind of drivel that can make a person want to shove an icepick through her eyesocket and right out the back of her head. Please, baby, don’t take your love away. Really. I was a fool. And if you take me back…well, I’ll probably still fuck whatever walks by in the next 10 minutes, and our relationship is really a destructive cycle that I’m begging you to perpetuate so I can still feel like I’m a good guy with good intentions without ever really having to change, but how can you resist this completely derivative beat I’ve just laid down? Please baby please. Wooo-ooooooo.