Ahhh... Turkey Day

I'll be winging it on Wednesday morning for Austin, Texas. Sounds like it's going to be a humdinger of a good time at THe House of the Red Door. Mum has already purchased our turkey, and I understand I am responsible for locating some other goods once I am on the ground in Austin.

Last year a student from Taiwan asked me "So what is Thanksgiving?"

And I tried to give the elementary school version and explain how the Pilgrims wanted to give thanks after a terribly crappy first year, and wanted to celebrate the harvest, and invited some of their new pals from the Native American village over the hill.

"And then we killed all of the Indians!" my helpful classmate piped up.

"Well, that's the longer version of the story--" I began. By now the poor Taiwanese student was a bit horrified.

"We gave them diseases and shot them all," concluded my classmate.

"American history is..." I was searching for a word. "Complicated. But the basic gist is that it's about coming together to give thanks for the year."

"What is a pilgrim?"

"They were these guys from England who felt they weren't free enough in England to, uh... well, they were seeking religious freedom. They wanted to be more religiously strict, and got kicked out of England. And then they went to Holland, and I think they more or less got kicked out of Holland. So they bought some land and sailed to the US."

"So the holiday is religious?"

"Yes. No. Yes. No. Well, it can be."

"So what do you do on Thanksgiving?"

"You eat a turkey and potatos and stuffing, watch football and argue with family."

"And..?"

"That's what we do at my house."

"Me too," my classmate replied.

"Sometimes," I added, "We play catch in the front yard."

The Taiwanese classmate's expression said it all. Not much of a Holiday.

But it is, and it's ours and it's groovy.



Enjoy your family. Enjoy your friends. Remember to stop and give thanks to God or Allah, or cosmic coincidence or whomever you give thanks to.

I'm thankful for

a decent job
Superman comics
health
family
friends
a dog who never fails to make me laugh
a cat who never fails to entertain
and, as always, I'm thankful for Jamie

You guys go out there and have a nice Turkey Day

Any ideas what to get my brother for Christmas?

He's a 31 year old lawyer, he enjoys B-movies, playing in a band and Tex-mex.

Anyone? Anyone?

Isn't Superman dead?

Okay, so I had assumed/ hoped that this article would remain below the radar of The League's readership. But the Leaguers are a wily lot, and as such, Jeff Shoemaker has thrown down the gauntlet.

Here is the gist of the article, stated in the opening paragraph:

Superman is too good a role model. Fans of the man from Krypton unwittingly compare themselves to the superhero, and realise they do not measure up. And as a result, they are less likely to help other people.

Strong words. So how does the League defend the indefensible?

To begin with, the general populace lumps Superman in with Chefboyardee and Mr. Potato Head as a sort of universal pop-culture constant. Superman is okay, but he's a boyscout and boring (he's no XXX, stickin' it to The Man!). People basically know who Superman is, and can make general assumptions about the character, so, obviously the researchers were able to wrangle up an excellent sample of Superman fans for their study. Or, you know, sorority girls with Superman emblems on their halter tops.

The article is sketchy with details of the research or the purpose of the actual research. One part of the study basically asked people (the article doesn't define the population outside of "students") to list characteristics of either superheroes in general or Superman in particular.

Then, three months later, the subjects were asked to appear for a volunteer program. Apparently fewer of the Superman "primed" people appeared and judged "less likely to help people."

I just don't feel like there's much information here to go by.

The author's posit: Superman is an impossible imaginary figure to live up to, so instead of trying, fans interested in Superman, or who identify with Superman, cannot get over the psychological trauma of being human, and thusly, cannot summon the will to help others.

But here's the important part: Despite the opening paragraph, note that the article doesn't state that the folks who didn't show up to volunteer are actually fans of Superman. The subjects of the study were average "students" who were "primed" with Superman one way or another instead of a more generic ideal of superheroes. Not once does the article indicate that anyone involved was predisposed to enjoying Superman comics, cartoons, movies, etc... Not even those sorority girls in their Superman halters.

The conclusion drawn by researchers relating to the actual study is as follows:

The reason (ed. insert: Superman fans didn't show), believes Nelson, is that asking people to compare themselves to an exceptional individual makes them realise their shortcomings. Whereas thinking about a general category encourages people to identify the strengths they have in common.

I can't disagree with what the researchers said in the above statement.

Point to the Founding Fathers instead of superheroes. In general, we think of those bewigged patriots as noble, if eccentric, men of destiny. We know as a group that they had foibles and shortcomings. But once you mention George Washington or Ben Franklin, unless you're an historian or take more than a Gov't 101 passing interest in history, you shine a divine light upon these people. It's much easier to imagine being one of many patriotic minded folks in a general powdered wig sort of way than to imagine being the same guy who won fought in the French-Indian Wars, crossed the Delaware and stuck it out at Valley Forge. Founding the world's greatest Republic is tough marker to measure up to for Joe and Jane Public.

But does it affect whether or not people show up to volunteer?

The article is in short supply as to details. Of those people who made it to the volunteer event, were there 80% fewer Superman primed folks, or 1%? What were the people asked to volunteer for as the mock follow up? How many people were asked in total to participate? What was the expected standard deviation? Did any of the Superman primed folks have an excuse why they didn't show? Was it raining that day? Did the semester end? Were Superman primed and superhero primed people asked to appear for separate events? Were any other superheroes included in the list? What was the control of the study? What would have happened with, say... Groucho Marx or The Bangles versus Superman? What if more people showed up who volunteered and were given "Groucho" to describe? And wasn't the volunteering for the experiment in the first place a sign that the Superman populace was willing to volunteer?

I obviously am missing something about the experiment and the journalist's conclusions. However, it's not to hard to imagine the journalist getting a full report of the experiment and saying "Oh, so Superman fans won't help people? That IS interesting! Man DOES bite dog!" It's lazy journalism.

Imagine an article on a "scientific" study being published reading "Fans of Basketball are unable to assist others because they can never be Karl Malone." Or, to make an exact parallel regarding what the hero figure DOES versus what the fans feel they cannot DO: "Fans of the Beatles are unable to play the drums because they feel that their greatest effort shall never surpass that of Ringo." Or "Lawyers feel Clarence Darrow too good of an attorney for them to compare selves to. Lawyers less likely to do jobs adequately."

The most irritating aspect is, of course, that you can't argue with something once it's in print. There's now conclusive scientific proof that Superman fans are losers. Hurray. If I received this article already a few times today, it's going to be one of those things relatives bring up for the next few years at Thanksgiving dinner when they see my Superman watch. "I heard that people who like Superman won't help people."

It's going to be the new "Isn't Superman dead?"

The League Takes The Pepsi (Holiday Spice) Challenge!!!

Not so long ago, Jamie and The League were watching some prime-time television, as is our habit. During the commercial break, a lively Pepsi add appeared in which several magical elves were trying to drive a delivery truck, but, amusingly, the elves were too small to drive a truck, and their team work wasn't really working to help them park the truck.

The League was filled with Holiday Mirth.

Mrs. League announced loudly: That stuff looks so gross.

Bear in mind, they had not actually even SHOWN the product.

BULLSHIT! declared the League. I'm going to buy some!

A quick editor's note: Mrs. League is reading over my shoulder (and being a Spelling-Nazi) and wants to clarify that she had read a description of Pepsi Holiday Spice online, and so she KNEW Holiday Spice was not going to be the flavor explosion it was being advertised to be. This concerns me as I wonder why Mrs. League is going to web pages discussing the flavors of new sodas. Ah, well. Maybe I should spend more time at home.

And then, just last week, Jim D. posted an inquiry regarding Pepsi Holiday Spice.

You can read Jim's post here.

This morning I awoke with a craving for waffles, and so I ventured out to the neighborhood Basha's in order to procure some eggs.

Making my way from eggs to check-out, I stumbled across the Pepsi Holiday Spice endcap display, and decided then and there, I was taking on The 2004 Jim D. Pepsi Holiday Spice Pepsi Challenge!

The League recongizes the value of scientific inquiry, and is also willing to put it on the line for his readership, and thusly, the League decided to go for it with no concern for personal safety.

I tasted the the Pepsi Holiday SPice IMMEDIATELY upon returning home. Unfortunately, my glass was SOAPY, and it distorted my impressions. SO, well after breakfast, I took up the Challenge again under a more controlled scientific environment.


The Pepsi Challenge begins

First, note that the Pepsi Holiday Spice (or PHS, as it shall henceforth be referred to) is sort of reddish. It looks a bit like other drinks, such as black cherry soda. Not red like Big Red, but not exactly cola colored, either. I guess it's Holidayish to be a ruddy red.


Jeff steps in to investigate.

So what DID Jamie's little online friends have to say about PHS? Jamie claimed it would taste like cinnamon, which, I'll be honest, wasn't much of a turn-off. Who doesn't like cinnamon?

(editor's note: Jamie is being sort of a Snooty Sally while I try to report on the FACTS, here Leaguers. She keeps telling me to change things here in my summary of events. Well, Leaguers, The League will NOT STAND FOR CENSORSHIP. Even when kicked. She says "it wasn't my little online friends; it was in a review I read somewhere!" A review of WHAT Ms. Snooty Sally? Now she's calling me a jerk. I am proud to say that intimidation does little to sway The League.)

(editor's editor's note: I am now being harassed and being told I "sit on a throne of lies". Apparently she has no online friends. Which is sad, because she has no other friends I know of.)

Anyway, I like cinnamon, and I was intrigued by Pepsi with a splash of cinnamon.

Jeff seemed to like the smell, so I gave it a shot myself.

The PHS smelled mostly like regular old Pepsi. Sort of like sweet sugar water with chemicals. What's not to like? I shook it about like a fine wine, releasing the hidden subtleties, and getting a good feeling for the bouquet.


mmmmmmmmm... smells like chemicals

Then I went ahead and went for the taste. The TRUE Pepsi Challenge.


note optimistically skeptical expression

The flavor was okay going down. Sort of soda-ish, hint of Pepsi. Hold on, let me go taste it again to get this right.

Okay. It tastes sort of like Pepsi with nutmeg and a dash of cinnamon. But that's the soda going DOWN.


shock and dismay

Immediately after passing the tongue, a new flavor arises from the residue resting upon the tongue. It's sort of a weird "I've had too much candy and now my tongue tastes like cough medicine" kind of vibe.

Alas, I have to report NOT being filled with Holiday Mirth upon drinking my PHS. I think I gave it a good shot, gave it a few samples, but without a little booze in it to add some extra "spice", I'm not really sure how excited I would be about PHS. In fact, I can say that with a hint of The Captain, PHS might be made significantly more tolerable.

Unfortunately, I had none of The Captain on hand, and thus...


adios, Christmas cheer...

I'm not really sure what to do with the 1.7 liters left. I suppose eventually I'll drink it.

We had ourselves a Ballon Festival in Chandler.

Woke up yesterday at 6:50am in order to be up when the ballons launched. Mel and I saw them when they first popped up over the fenceline. I went and woke up Jamie and watched the beginnings of the balloon race beginning from Tumbleweed Park.



Last night we went down to the park to see the balloons. Every few minutes the balloons would all light up simultaneously after a 10-count.

We saw the lit skydivers from the road as we were leaving, and watched the fireworks from over the same fenceline.

I'm thinking that balloon day will get better in coming years. This was, after all, the first time they tried it. No sign of balloons today, I might add.

Mrs. League here. Something exciting is finally happening in Chandler, Arizona. The first annual Arizona Balloon Festival is being held this weekend, not 3 miles from our house! If we go tomorrow evening, we'll be able to see over 30 lighted balloons at sunset, dudes jumping out of a plane (Flyin' Elvises!), and fireworks. Wow. My esteemed work colleague Alan hopes that all of this will happen at once, like a live version of Missle Command.

Leaguers, you have to remember that a Saturday night out on the town for Mr. and Mrs. League includes going to a niceish restaurant and a movie. I am psyched.

Recently I was bemoaning the fact via e-mail to Maxwell that I don't have bio page linked here. Not that anyone reading this page isn't already roughly familiar with my bio, but it would be a nice ego stroke to write even more about myself.

Say, said Maxwell, doesn't Blogger have a "profile" section.

And, by jiminy, it does.

So what is my personal profile?

The profile does ask those two all important questions:

About Me

and

Interests

But, what "about me"? I guess this is when I could wow folks with my amazing life story, or something astonishing which is all about me. But I have nothing.

I was born a middle-class kid and graduated from a public university. I married a wonderful girl. I now work for the state of Arizona, live in suburbs, and own a golden retriever.

Wow. Enthralling.

Interests? This is usually where profiles fall apart. People either put too much info or too little. And, invariably, this is where people try to prove how much more interesting they are than other people by listing every eclectic fancy they ever had. You'll find Henna art, interest in obscure artists nobody ever heard of, musicians whose names they found on PitchforkMedia and haven't really ever followed.

You will rarely see "I'm really into Monday Night Football and Everybody Loves Raymond. Oh, and I think NASCAR rocks. Occasionally I get so lazy I will allow myself to watch two episodes back to back of Dharma and Greg in syndication. I also have a Billy the Big Mouth Bass."

Instead, according to blogger profiles, every single blogger is a wildly free artistic soul with an amazingly exotic panoply of tastes and interests.

After that, I am defined by my media.

I note that my comments in the musical section were not published. This is what I said: I don't know anymore. I'm not foolish enough to think that because I own a lot of records in different categories that my tastes are, in any way, interesting to anyone else. Working for a mall based record shop sort of killed my belief that having a favorite music is a good idea. And who really has a favorite band after high school, anyway?

I think what I'm realizing is that I shouldn't have a bio up. And apparently Blogger doesn't think I should either, as they won't print the comments in the musical section. Maybe my disdain for bio by form and my general misnathropy is not very conducive to having a bio at all.

Anyway, I actually filled this out a while ago. I leave this for you guys to read.

Maybe I'll copy Maxwell and have folks write in and turn the whole thing into a contest.

What do you guys think?

I know this has already been circulating for a while, but...



Scientician A: What's the steering wheel for again?

Scientician B: Goddammit, Ernie, it's gotta look futuristic. It's for the Time Travel-o-scope.

Scientician A: And we have pressure gauges why?

Scientician B: To show the doo-hickeys and whatzits clackin' away. Don't you know nuthin' about nuthin'? Now go fetch me those blinking lightbulbs. We gotta fancy up this console. I still say this thing should take up most of a Woolsworth's if it's gonna be from the future.

Hardee's' decides to lighten up their menu
-Mrs. League

Mrs. League presents:
TOYS THAT SHOULD NOT BE

I know that this is probably a comma placement mistake and not a real toy, but I'm damn curious about the "38" Playtime Trampoline Happy, Birthday Bear".

**Update: They fixed the comma already.

Other toys on the bad list this year:
-Pocket Rocket Miniature Motorcycle
-Megabuster Battle Weapon
-Imaginarium Police Car Building Blocks
-Dress Me Paz (I'm imagining Paz as some naked doll version of Tipsy McStaggers)
-Fun Slides Carpet Skates (aren't these usually called socks?)
-Air Burst Rockets
-Parents Magazine Mirror Pound-A-Ball
-3 Gun Squad Set -- Uz-1 Commando Machine Gun

Couple of good news items to get you started...

Austinites and former Austinites... even under Chapter 11, Katz's Never Closes!

I suspect they will pay off their creditors with buckets of pickles.

Look, it's overpriced and the wait can be ridiculous, but I love Katz's. Seriously love it. It would be a shame if they shut down. Of course, Mr. Katz is all but a gangster, so I'd be curious to know where all the money from that joint went. How can you always be busy and still file Chap. 11?

Maybe popularity really fell off since I left... who knows..?

My brother on the weather in Austin last night? It's raining a little bit...

And this isn't so much news as infotainment, but it's Superman related and gets me pumped about primetime television:

Krypto the Superdog may be making an appearance on Smallville.

In addition to appearing briefly in a cameo on JLU this season, Krypto is getting his own cartoon for pre-schoolers, and he's now going to be on Smallville.

From Kryptonsite's Rumorville

Krypto in Smallville?

Here's some gossip for you, that again we're not posting on the spoilers page until there is some official confirmation.

Rumor has it that the title of episode #4-13 is "Krypto." For those of you unfamiliar with the Silver Age Superman comic books or recent stories in current continuity, Krypto is Superman's super-powered dog from Krypton. No word yet on how it will be handled on the show. But hey - we were right about the Flash and Mxyzptlk, so we'd say it's a safe bet!

Stay tuned.

So there are some really nice things about having your own little website.

One of the nice things is how it keeps you up to date with folks, and how it kind of creates a little bubble world with people orbiting around it.

Recently Maxwell was updating her bio on her blog, and I was asked to participate. Her bio is not written by Ms. Cowgirl Funk herself, but by her readership.

Anyway, as I was face-to-face with Maxwell mostly during her high school years, we ended up chatting sidebar, and I took some unexpected side trips down Memory Lane. Specifically we visited some nicer, out of the way places on Memory Lane, and then a few, dodgier holes-in-the-wall that I enjoyed, but hadn't been to in a while.

All in good fun.

I'm not in touch with too many folks from old KO anymore (although folks like Jill and Madi tend to pop up upon occasion, and its always fun). I do think its important to remember all that stuff, if, for no other reason, than to remember exactly where you came from. If you weren't that bright back then, what is 2004-you going to look like to 2015-you, Mr. Smarty-Pants?

Anyway, thanks to Maxwell for tossing some lighter fluid on the those barely glowing embers.

Another perk of being EIC of The League is that is that my readership sends me junk in the mail. GOOD JUNK in the mail, too.

Recently, Jim D. sent a crate of comics I still haven't properly sorted. And in the past two days I received some choice comics from RHPT.com and Nathan Cone, your voice of the noon-day hour on Texas Public Radio.

RHPT.com sent along several comics including this item, which is utterly fascinating.



Nathan sent along some odd artifacts located at a shop in San Antonio.


Screech: I'm even better looking in comics!
Jessie Spano: And we're all even funnier!

It's a dialog like this on the front cover that makes you think the creators were looking for a way to lash out at these juvenile delinquents after having to lose a month of their life drawing the contractually bound spin-off comic. At some point you can almsot see the editorial staff at Harvey Comics wondering aloud who put an ugly little kid like Samuel "Screech" Powers on TV. And, while lovely, wondering exactly what comedic chops Jessie Spano had shown to get a spot on the show. Funnier than on TV, indeed. Unless you count the very special episode where Jessie got hopped up on goofballs to try to handle her school load and her work with the SBTB band, Zack Attack.

Anyone remember her breakdown during "I'm So Excited!"? No? Ah, well.

The comic inside keeps to the hi-jinks of the source material, but with a greater flair than what the $10 prop budget could have afforded on SBTB. Remember when they fired Hayley Mills? And then they fired Max of The Max? Mr. Belding must have been scared s**tless he was going to lose his job. He probably condeded to take less than SAG.

What's really horrific in the comic isn't just the stoney thud of dropped gag after dropped gag. Rather, the attempts to render the SBTB gang in cartoon fashion, trying to caricature each actor, fail to capture any flattering likeness of any actor, and somehow making it clear that this was hack work as the artist fought to break into comics. There's also the possibility that the artist is at the end of his rope and can't believe he's found himself working at Harvey Comics instead of Archie, and he's maybe sick of all these damn teen-agers and their acid washed jeans.


The SBTB gang sits at their usual booth at The Max. The lovely Jessie Spano is now a deformed hag thing.

Obviously the artist was roughly familiar with the interiors used by the SBTB crew, probably from hour of reference tape or the 3 times a day the show aired in 1992 when teh comic was released. The artist actually does use the same dumb booth that was so prevalent in episode after episode of SBTB.

For a rough idea of what our SBTB friends look like, you can see them in the game below. I'll send along answers if anyone wants them. I assume you have better things to do, though.


Update: Here, Jessie Spano looks like the love child of Mask stars Cher and Rocky Dennis. AC Slater now looks like one of Roger Clinton's illegitimate children.

Nathan also sent along a Supergirl comic from 1970. I actually suspect the first story is a reprint from the late 50's, but I can't prove it. Anyway, enjoy the two panels below.


Yes, that's a talking horse. His name is Comet the Superhorse. One day I will cover Comet the Superhorse, but for now, just sit back and soak up the groovy Silver-Age vibe.


Comet the Superhorse is a) not afraid to go out like a bitch b) not afraid to leave a major pile of guilt upon the lady who brought him oats and gelded him.

And just for fun, here's The Admiral on Halloween. He poses with his 12-foot Halloween decoration and the little girl from next door. Dad was very proud of that inflatable doo-hickey. I believe the distortion on the left is Ansel Adams' (aka My Mom's) finger.


We're sending the men with the butterfly nets after the holidays. We don't want Dad's shock treatment to spoil Christmas.

For some reason, Tim Burton is remaking Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Here are some pics.

SPONSOR DOUG AS HE PEDDLES HIS WAY INTO GOOD KARMA

The League is neither particularly in-shape, nor charitable. But sometimes The League gets inspired by the hard work, determination and giving of others.

As the Holidays approach, we're selecting a few key charities we think you might like to dump your money into. Unlike stocks, bonds and bacon futures, the only thing you'll get in return is a chance to help a worthy cause and possibly assist in improving the human condition. That won't buy you a speedboat, but it will make you somewhat less evil.

The League's brother-in-law is both in-shape and charitable, and has gone and volunteered himself for the AIDS/Lifecycle. Doug will be peddling 585 miles over the course of seven days in order to raise money and awareness of the AIDS epidemic.

We're fully aware at The League that our readership is good of heart, if a little cheap. But it's creeping up on Christmas and I'm feeling full of Holiday mirth, so I'm giving you cheap bastards a shot. Back at League HQ we've taken a hard look at what we're going to sponsor this year, and we think this is a great cause. We hope you'll think so as well.

To sponsor Doug on his life-saving fantastic voyage, go here.

Tonight, our world is a little poorer.

Ol' Dirty Bastard has merged with the infinite.

I am not, in any way, familiar with hip-hop. That train left the station while I was still trying to convince people it was never going to get better than The Fat Boys.

But I did work at Camelot Records at Highland Mall from 1995-1997. And one day, while sorting the rap section, I came across this album cover. And I stood in the middle of the store laughing for five minutes.

Wu-Tang is now down a man, but The Wu will go on.

My apologies if I appear to be light of blogging.

I was busy, and now I'm taking a few days off from my usual schedule and work.

I think you can get along without me.

And, hey... while I'm out... somebody solve the mystery of why Molly hasn't blogged in over a month. What's going down in the Land of the Rising Sun?

I hereby formally endorse the new Bravo program: Long Way Round. For an agoraphobe like myself, the show is quite interesting. It also makes me want to be rich and famous so I can get corporations to sponsor my epic vacation.

And, just a general announcement: I will be in Austin for Thanksgiving. I will be giving thanks at the home of Jason Steans. Hopefully he will locate a table for us to sit at before we show up.

Gobble. Gobble.

If you're going to be in Austin, let me know.

I think Randy is getting married Saturday. Everyone cross your fingers and wish the little tyke the best of luck for the ceremony to go well.

Here is Randy with some girl. Let's hope it's the Mysterious M.

Randy, if you want a secret escape plan, I've planted a car near your house. Before you sink teh car into the lake, make sure you remove the passport and driver's license with your new identity from the glove compartment. Don't worry about the body in the car. You needed a body double, and that guy was going to die soon. I think.

Either way, best of luck, RHPT, or maybe I should say, Mr. Faizul Goldstein.

Time to get lowbrow.

Do not view this clip if you are of a delicate nature.

And, yes... a quick Google search will demonstrate that this was, in fact, a legitimate children's show. No, I don't know how they got away with it. I am sure it never happened again.

Interesting stuff online last night about The Incredibles.

Apparently Bard Bird isn't the comic book geek you'd assume he'd be from both The Iron Giant and The Incredibles. In fact, he didn't even know how close he was coming to the Fantastic Four. Instead, he developed the powers based more upon character archetypes.

Dash = 10 year old boy, which means a lot of energy to run around = superspeed
Violet = shy 13 year old girl = invisibility and invisible barriers
Elastigirl = moms getting pulled in too many directions = stretchy powers
Mr. Incredible = dad + former tough guy = super strength

Interesting enough.

The "review" I enjoyed reading was the one posted by The Beat!. Heidi had an interesting POV on the movie and pitches that this movie may have a darker underlying message and than you'd pick up on at a first glance. If you wonder where she's going with this (and maybe the name of the article is enough to get you to click over) is THE INCREDIBLES: From Nietzsche to Rand.

Anyway, read the review here.

Later this week RHPT.com and The Mysterious M join in holy matrimony.

The League has been married since April 28th, 2000, so The League feels entitled to shoot his mouth off about marital bliss.

Here are some pointers for folks about to enter into wedded bliss:

1. Just because you are married does not mean you are always going to enjoy the exact same things. It just doesn't. Jamie still won't help me with my mime.

2. While lying in bed, unable to sleep, do not begin toying with a plan for the perfect murder.

3. If by merging your CD collections you now have more than one copy of an album, sell duplicate copies. In two years, people are going to raise an eyebrow at your multiple copies of "The Soul Cages", for more than one reason.

4. You've got until death to spend time together. You have my permission to go off and play putt-putt on your own without feeling guilty.

5. Tell each other when you're paying bills.

6. Don't go to McDonald's.

7. A puppy or a kitten is not a child. Do not allow your spouse to begin calling themself "mommy" or "daddy" regarding a pet. Pets are more like idiot roommates, and treating them as children is weird and creepy. If you must have something to call you "mommy" or "daddy", it's easy to accomplish and I have a Barry White album which may speed the process.

8. If you don't like a certain genre of movies, lay down the law and insist your spouse find a friend to see that genre with. (I refuse to watch romantic comedies. Jamie hates westerns.)

9. Do not make up lengthy songs about any physical feature which the other person might feel uncomfortable about (big ears, bird toes, etc...) and then sing said song to to the other person each and every morning. This will lead to divorce.

10. Try not to point out really attractive people to your significant other.

11. Ask your spouse about their opinion on your selection of clothes and then go ahead and buy the same boring crap you've been buying since high school.

12. Dressing up the cat to surprise your spouse may seem like a good idea, but it just ends up getting you injured.

13. Call your spouse at least once a day from work.

14. When your spouse says "have you seen my shoes?" always answer "no" unless you can see them at that exact moment. Do not try to remember when last you saw the missing shoes. It was never important enough for you to make a mental note and you will never remember.

15. Tell your spouse at least one item you want for Christmas, because guessing is a complete bastard.

16. Don't bring up old nonsense in an argument. That's dumb and it always just makes the situation worse.

17. Don't go to bed angry.

18. Don't have kids. They're loud, they eat all the food, use all the money and they smell like syrup.

And that's it. That's my advice. Not too exciting. I guess my point is, just because you're getting married doesn't mean you have to compromise on everything and become a boring dud. Sure, to some point nature will make you more of a boring dud, but you needn't necessarily voluntarily become a boring dud. You can still do your own thing as long as it doesn't involve bigamy or bankruptcy or both.

Happy wedding, Randy and Mysterious M. Go out there and freak out the squares.