This post should have been about my torture device

I wanted to write about my torture device.

This is actually an antique from the Middle-Ages, originally used to remind people who forgot they were Jewish that they were indeed the children of Abraham.

You climb a little step. It's pretty comfortable. A nice handle on each side. Very stable. Look, it's a little cup-holder thingy. And look at all these buttons!

So this post was supposed to be about the torture device I have upstairs, the one that makes my face look like a ripe tomato, makes me cry inside, scares me... The torture device I hate because it reminds me on a nearly-daily basis how I have let myself go.

I mean, there are people who exercise, and there are cool people like me. There are people who put themselves through shit, and there are people who know life's too short. There are "You-can-do-it!" self-delusional yuppie douchebags, and there are those who know life was never meant to be a struggle.

So why do I do it? I don't know. Because it's there. And because the doctor told me I had to do it if I wanted to see my son grow up.

And on Father's Day I sent the boy and his mother away to grandma, and I climbed my torture device, and I pressed some buttons. And I finally reached 5 miles, which was my Father's Day gift to myself.

So I wanted to write about all that, but instead, here's a video for Honey:

I need a vacation from my vacation

Here's the short, inoffensive version. Because. And because I feel better. And because who cares, anyway. And because what's the point? I'll just say one thing: Sometimes I look at myself and see too much fucking average, and it makes me feel stupid and redundant. But then I go back there to the constant stress of aggressive drivers and endless war and constant fear and family guilt and family quarrels, and I look at myself and feel a little proud that I've made it through as a half-functioning human being. I'm not doing that bad after all.

Now on with our story.

David Simon was on our plane to England. And I saw John Waters in Eddy's Supermarket a couple of months ago. Which means I've now seen all of Baltimore's real celebrities.

We went to the London Zoo. Liam, having a good time?


We had a drink in the Dublin Castle, where twelve years earlier we met.

We saw some of the old roommates. It was great. They changed and they haven't changed.

People in England like to make fun of Americans because Americans voted for an idiot who took them to war. English people voted for a smart man who took them to the same war, so I don't know which one's better. And now they voted the Nazis in. And that whole What's-His-Face political scandal is pretty unbelievable. Like this MP who went to church for a memorial service and donated 5 Pounds to the church, and then got reimbursed. It's a funny little Twilight Zone of a place, where they drive on the wrong side and drink tea with milk and everyone reads The Sun and turns to page 3 to see the daily boobies. And the new Heathrow Terminal 5 can kiss my bum.

On the bus from the plane to the terminal (because progress means you take a bus to the gate), there's a sign that says the bus was "Voted best bus of 2007," which makes me feel a little cheated, because it's not 2007 anymore.

Then we flew to Israel.

In Israel, we went to this park with my parents. Daddy, having a good time?


Went shopping a couple of times.

My friends live near Pinnes Street.

Israel: Pressure, stress, stomach viruses, jellyfish stings.

But also sunsets.

And just look at this waterfall. Could have been nice if this country had some water, though. You know, for the waterfalls. Maybe after they invade Iran, now that the Mossad has rigged their elections.

And cable cars.

And pasta.

And great-grandmas.

Here's me going down the mountain. It was a profound experience.


It's not really me, you know.

Saw Jack Black on our way back in Terminal 5. I really should prepare one-liners just in case I meet celebrities.

It's fucking good to be home, I'll tell you that.

(Oh, and here's a picture of the family. As usual, Cadet Mahoney has agreed to stand in for Honey).

(and it's not an optical illusion. My sister does have three arms).

See you in two weeks

Again, it's time to follow in the footsteps of Jesus and head on East. There will be stories when I come back. And pictures of cute babies. And that's about it. But it will be fun, so don't abandon me.

Meanwhile, head on to Puntabulous and see my speaking role in The Starship Puntabulous.

And you still have some time to vote for the Wishful Writer in Murphy-Goode, PICK ME!

And see what you can do to help Jeff get his business off the ground in Thank you! I'll TAKE that help.

And click that "Random Post" tab above the header (or here). It will take you places.

Speaking of the Star Trek movie, if you go back in time after your civilization is destroyed, do you spend all your time getting revenge for something that hasn't happened yet, or do you try to prevent it from happening? Or are all the explosions and sound effects supposed to stop me from asking silly questions?

And finally, here's a video of a cute baby talking on his cell.

My Quadrophenia Story

In about a week, we're going to Israel again. But before we get there, we're going to spend a couple of days in London. We plan to have a beer where we met.

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Which also means it's time for another London roommate story.

This guy was the king of London. Everyone knew him. He was handsome, and he was cool, and he didn't give a fuck. He didn't give a fuck about his friends, and we liked that about him. He went to India and pooped hash, and we thought it was cool. He once said the most romantic thing he'd ever done was share half an ecstasy pill with a woman he met in a club, and we thought he was cool. He gave this woman some money so she would marry him and he could stay in England, which was cool, although now he was married, which was a bit strange. They never saw each other after that day.

One Thursday, he went to a club he usually went to on Fridays, only to find out that on Thursdays there wasn't a rave, but some kind of hippie-poetry-performance night. He said there was some motherfucker with a beard sitting on a chair, and a bunch of hippies sitting in a circle around him, listening to his poetry. So my roommate took a pill, put on his headphones, and closed his eyes for a few hours. We found out later it was Allen Ginsberg's last UK performance.

There's actually a DVD of that performance. I wonder if my roommate is in the movie, sitting in the corner with his headphones on and his eyes closed, tapping his feet. Being too cool for Allen Ginsberg.

And then he met a nice girl and moved back to Israel with her. They got married. Someone saw him work in a shoe store. And I knew it was time for me to move on. Grow up. The crazy days were over.

A Short Post About Human Nature

It was a nice day, so we took a walk around the block.

Look at the big bus! Cover your ears! It's an ambulance! How cute you are when you say Hi to everyone you see... Maybe I should do the same?

Where are you? Oh.

He was standing a few feet behind me, looking at the ground, then walking slowly in a circle. I walked back and saw the caterpillar.

Look how many legs he's got! He's cute, right?

It was slowly moving toward him, then it arched its back and turned the other way. We followed it. My little kid interested in nature. How cute!

We continued following it.

If you look closely, you'll see this is the head. It's hard to tell which side is the head, right? It's a funny creature. It's called a C-A-T-E-R-P-I-L-L-A-R. Look how all the legs are moving together! Wait!!!

Why the fuck did you do that for?