My Kick-Ass Day, revisited

Y’all, I have started this post a number of times now and am just not sure how best to phrase the funny. Needless to say, seeing this on the news last night made a good day better. One should not gloat at other people’s problems, but Bill O’Reilly’s got some funny ones.

For one, when sexually harassing his producer, he tells her about his fantasy of taking her to a Caribbean island and rubbing her with a loofah. Then, inexplicably, he switches gears and says he will rub her with a falafel.

Now, the best falafel I’ve ever had was in New York, and I don’t recall anyone suggesting that I should use it as a sex aid and I would guess that if ever there was a town where someone would tell you what to do with a falafel, New York is it. Perhaps this is why Bill O’Reilly so kindly offers to teach women how to masturbate with toys if only they will call him on the phone. The knowledge and wisdom that man has! It’s a shame he’s being so unfairly persecuted.

If only I had Bill O’Reilly’s phone number and a falafel. . .

To read the court documents for yourself, here’s the link: http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/1013043mackris1.html?link=eaf

It’s my first blog link, so let’s hope it works.

My Kick-Ass Day

The ways in which my day ruled:

1. I saw the recycling truck coming and ran down and got the recycle bin to the curb just as they hit our house, thus saving us from yet another month of a full, unusable recycle bin.
2. I got all my money stuff straightened out from my trip.
3. There was a candy bar left in the candy machine for lunch.
4. My intern and I cleaned off my bookshelves.
5. I got a ton of work done.
6. There were good brownies after the talk I went to about Herman Melville*.
7. Ghost Hunters is on and Grant is a cutie.

*One might argue that any day involving a talk about Herman Melville is automatically disqualified from being “kick-ass.” I would argue that the person I know who is most excited about Melville used to perform on stage wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and a large diaper**.
That, my friends, is why I love Melville–his fans are nuts.

**One might think that any grown-ass man who wears a large diaper in public would maybe be confined to a small cell most days. If the small room in the back of the house filled with books counts, you are right.