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Wait Wait! I’m going to tell you…

27 Feb

Full disclosure: I’m an NPR junkie. My idea of a perfect weekend involves bottomless chai, my recliner and a steady flow of NPR programming. One of my favorite programs is Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me.

If you’re not familiar with WWDTM, it’s an hour-long quiz show hosted by Peter Sagal and Carl Kasell, featuring three comedian panelists answering questions about current events. I recognize that this format might just qualify its fan base as ranking in the 99th percentile of nerdiness. So what.

Each week Peter Sagal notes that the show is recorded live in front of a studio audience from the Chase Auditorium in downtown Chicago. At some point in the last six months, this prompted a light to go off in my little nerd brain: DID HE SAY CHICAGO?

Hell, I’m out there twice a month for work. Why haven’t I made a pilgrimage to the seat of my personal religion?

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Try not to get jealous of these awesome product ideas.

2 Feb

Not sure how the topic came up, but at book club last night we had a rather vivid discussion of camel toe. If you’re the only person in America who doesn’t know what camel toe is, for your edification: it’s when a woman’s pants are hiked up so they reveal the detailed terrain of her crotch. It looks like a camel toe; hence the name.

I can’t quite bring myself to insert a photo of camel toe here, but if you’re still not getting it, I recommend doing a Google image search on the word. The results are spot-on.

Anyway, once we were on the topic, one of the girls mentioned that they actually sell gym clothes that are reinforced in the crotch area to prevent camel toe at the gym. That prompted a whole discussion of a line of feminine apparel products we could brand.

First would be a female cup intended to keep that area looking like a Barbie. We would call that one “Camel-No.”

Second would be pads that keep your nipples from popping through your clothes (since bras don’t always provide enough coverage). These would be called, “Nipp-ins.”

Finally, although we’re not sure of anyone who is embarrassed by the contours of their belly button showing through their tops, we thought it was a good way to round out the collection. The belly button patch would be named, the “Belly butt-off.”

Oh, you might roll your eyes, but I bet the girl that invented Spanx got the same reaction. And she’s now a bazillionaire.

Besides, you’re probably just a wee bit jealous. I mean, while your book club devotes hours to dissecting “Jane Eyre,” mine is discussing camel toe and new business ideas.

I think we all know which club is more interesting.

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Kind of like dueling banjos… but a bit less melodic.

30 Jan

My friend Krista was in town this weekend, so last night a group of us headed to an Indian restaurant for dinner together. Because I have a bladder the approximate size of a golf ball, as soon as we arrived, I cruised to the bathroom.

There were two (one for the men, one for the ladies) but they were of the single room variety, where you lock the door behind you rather than seal yourself into a stall.

So imagine my surprise when – after locking the door – I found myself facing THIS arrangement:

I’ve seen some crazy bathrooms in my day (one word: Italy) but this was by far the most thought provoking.

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Timing is everything.

12 Jan

Tonight I was talking on the phone with a friend when I suddenly remembered that I only had a 10% charge remaining at the start of the conversation, which had been about 30 minutes earlier.

“Hey,” I interrupted him, “If my phone cuts out during this call, it’s because my battery died!”

SILENCE.

“Brian? Are you there?”

SILENCE

I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see if he was exercising good comedic timing or if my phone had actually chosen that moment to die.

Someone has a sense of humor.

 

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Just when you think you know someone…

3 Jan

…there’s a record scratch and you’re all, “What the hell?!”

At least, that’s how it played out this weekend in Berkeley Springs. We were walking down the main street (better known as Washington Street, in case you’re curious) when I spotted an SPCA poster with photos of animals through the window of a consignment shop.

“Alan!” I yelled. Kind of like this:

And a few minutes later, there we were, standing in front of a large  poster board display of cats and dogs needing adoption. I was studying the descriptions when I heard Alan say, “Do you think they planned this, or is this song a coincidence?”

I stepped back and listened, registering Sarah McLachlan’s song, “Angel.”

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