February 2012
1 post
Coming of age in under 600 characters
Let’s go for a walk, she said. Why not, I agreed. I liked walks. I liked her. And I was sick of dancing.
When the chaperones weren’t looking we snuck out of the gym through a side door. I held her hand. We didn’t talk. At the edge of the parking lot I began to joke about the DJ playing ”Easy” by the Commodores twice when she pulled me close and kissed me.
...
January 2012
7 posts
Rewriting "In which we meet Oliver Levant"
Let’s take a crack at tuning up that piece I shared with you yesterday, shall we?
He locked and barred the aluminum door and fed enough wood to the stove to keep it burning through the night. Brushing his teeth in the trailer’s closet-sized bathroom, he debated whether or not to bother switching the batteries out of the TV remote back into the carbon monoxide detector. Changing the...
In which we meet Oliver Levant
He locked the door, fed wood to the stove, switched the batteries from the TV remote back into the smoke detector and brushed his teeth in the trailer’s closet-sized bathroom. It took him about the same amount of time to layer himself into bed under his collection of blankets.
The darkness inside the trailer was broken by moving bars of headlights shadowing through the paper shades...
A Meeting of Agents
“Last order of business. The status of the premises at number four, whose previous tenant was his honor, Edward Coffin, of blessed memory.”
The nine men around the table crossed themselves slowly.
A man at the far end of the table let loose a barking cough. ”I hardly, excuse me, hardly think it can be occupied without the most comprehensive and expensive of restorations. The...
10 Facts about Snuggalo, a Clown.
What do we know about Snuggalo?
He has a law degree.
He enjoys romantic dinners with his wife Barbara every other Wednesday.
He wants to be loved, but sometimes wonders what it would be like to be feared.
He can’t whistle.
He left a Russian circus under suspicious circumstances.
He is best friends with Freon the Dog Handler.
He has a 19th century Louis Vuitton steamer trunk that no...
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You may now enjoy my voice-over demo reel. Next,...
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Eric Idle Presents Radio 5: Were There *Seven*...
Ok, Pythonites and Olde Tyme Radio fannes, riddle me this.
Conventional wisdom says there were six episodes in the second (1974) season of the “Eric Idle Presents Radio 5” show. They are described here.
Please note the sixth show titled “A Sad Moment”, aired May 4, 1974.
Now look here. Scroll down (or search for) “ERIC IDLE PRESENTS RADIO 5 (Series 2, Show...
December 2011
1 post
1 tag
Donald O'Van, a Peddler Tenant
Donald O’Van runs the bookstore. His shop looks a bit like an empty living room, with those few books he keeps on display set out on a coffee table between two couches at the center of the shop. A massive square oriental rug covers the entire floor, a pool of red that consumes the sparse 40 watt light from the wall sconces.
Donald is an older man of smaller proportions, with thinning...
September 2011
1 post
“Hold the newsreader’s nose squarely, waiter, or friendly milk will...”
– Stephen Fry
“A unique child, delivered of a unique mother.”
July 2011
0 posts
Thursday night, and it’s time for some...
June 2011
3 posts
I am pretty sure I could totally groove on sitting in a duck enclosure with a rifle, waiting for the wee beasties to flapflap by, but I’m not sure I want to hang out with a wet dog.
My son responded to news of a super-dangerous e. coli outbreak in Germany associated with fresh vegetables by saying “I told you vegetables were bad for you”.
May 2011
4 posts
My basement has many boxes full of books. I know I don’t have room upstairs for all of them. But the idea of letting any of them “go” fills me with a combination of sorrow and dread. Would having e-book copies of any given book make be feel better about getting rid of its physical counterpart? Not Sure.
It is becoming increasingly clear that living in the Metro DC area will, come summer, bear a strange similiarity to a non-stop schvitz.
Today the Tree People came, and Did what they Do. I installed a mailbox, shelves in the guest room closet to make an ersatz linen closet, installed a coat rack, and reorganized furniture. My head feels like it was the crash pad for a squad of boozy ice weasels.
One of the lesser-known pleasures of moving is opening up mis-labeled boxes and finding treasures. Like your journal, or your favorite sweater, or your cat.
March 2011
2 posts
1 tag
“[Angry Birds] is successful because everyone, whether they admit it or not,...”
– Something I left as a Facebook comment and decided was too insightful to not share with you.
You’re *welcome*.
Does a one-legged man wear a trouser?
December 2010
1 post
I spent fifteen minutes looking for the shortwave station for the BBC World Service before I realized I’ve got a dashboard widget for it.
So while I am listening to the radio station I wanted to find, it lacks the feeling of discovery and minor triumph I used to get when I fiddled with the antenna *just so* and brought in the station.
But then, I also remember watching scrambled TV...
August 2010
5 posts
1 tag
Meet the Snack of the Apocalypse.
“OK everyone, settle down and take your seats, we’re about ready to start.”
“Why are there guards outside?”
“What’s going on behind those curtains?”
“And why did you take our cellphones?”
“In time, in time. Tim, are the subjects ready?”
(intercom) “Yessir, they’re ready.”
“What’s this all...
“The world is now global.”
– Desiree Rogers, in an interview with ABC 7 Chicago aired 8/11/10
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Say hello to the Fridge Pickles of Doom.
Cucumbers are taking over my backyard and are plotting to invade the house and seize the TV remote. In an effort to foil their evil plans, I have been creeping up on them and picking them. I think this is just making them angrier, but so far they’ve said nothing.
Flush with cucumbers, I am compelled to make pickles. But as I am impatient, churlish, vain, tedious, photo-sensitive and did...
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Watching morning network "news" makes me feel...
They’re the equivalent of a slow-motion car wreck that you can’t stop watching when you realize you’re shamefully witnessing tragedy and misery and all the while you’re chatting with the guy standing next to you about how this particular car wreck isn’t as exciting / as boomy / as dramatic / as fun as the one you saw last week and the slurping sound of him hitting the...
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Japanese hatchet, please. →
Not suitable for carry-on luggage.
July 2010
11 posts
They say DC is enjoying a cool snap. It is still humid enough to poach me alive.
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What I've learned about the last person who had my...
I’ve learned this person - let’s call her Stacy - owes a bunch of money to a bunch of people, and they’d like it back.
A number of these people find it hard to believe that I don’t know how they can get in touch with Stacy, because they all ask me if I know her new number.
“We’ll make a note of it,” they say, and they thank me in thankless voices.
Some...
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“I’d make a great food writer. I like to eat, I like to write, and I like...”
– Jack Corrigan (age 12)
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Say hello to the Caipirinha.
Sweet Jesu in a Birch-Bark Canoe, the Caipirinha (Kai-pur-een-ya) is a drink that demands respect.
Forged from an unholy alliance of limes, sugar and poorly-refined automobile propellant, this Brazilian classic will deprive you of a variety of senses and a measurable quantity of your cognitive capacity. Good news, you will be unlikely to come down with a case of scurvy after one of these, so...
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Say hello to the Manhattan.
The Manhattan is a classic. A…dangerous classic. The Manhattan is a cocktail that says ‘howyadoin’ while reaching for both your wallet and your girlfriend. It lures you in with its sleek visual appeal: served shaken in a martini glass with a cherry, its murky golden hue filters the evening light like a liquid pane of stained glass. Dangerous stained glass.
When created with...
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In lieu of an Angry Arnold Palmer, try this.
I have already received a few notes from readers of The Bob Corrigan regarding my previous musical recommendation. One gentleman was kind enough to leave his note here on the site, thank you. Others chose to contact me directly with comments like “sounds like cats in a bag” and “you need a vacation” and “I don’t have any ibuprophen, damn you”.
If you...
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It's time for some Antediluvian Rocking Horse.
Think Negativland with a beat and better accents.
Googling the band name serves up a few snippets. Too bad their homepage is broken.
Get busy, friends. It is the soundtrack of America in 2010. Ibuprophen and tequila are optional, but recommended, after an hour spent listening to this stuff.
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The other Pandora.
The free music streaming app is certainly quite nice.
But it doesn’t hold a candle to the subversive genius that is Pandora, the jewelry company.
My sister-in-law is, as I write, being fêted in the other room of my other sister-in-law’s house by a seething throng of 40-something ladies who have gathered to celebrate her 40th birthday a la surprise.
Someone managed to figure out that...
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The tree did what?
I would like to invite you to consider this tree.
I’ll wait.
Hmm…hmmm…
OK, time’s up. Now, about the tree.
“Looks like a tree, Bob.”
It’s an attack tree.
“Really.”
Definitely. See? It’s lunging at me.
“Why would a tree lunge at you?”
It wanted me to buy ramps.
“What, like a piece of wood?”
No....
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Because cutting your fingers is not fun, that's...
The housewares section of Snow’s Home and Garden in Orleans, Massachusetts has all the winning qualities of a glue trap. I thought I would never leave.
I managed to find my way out of their model train exhibit, their toy soldier display, and I was even able to claw myself away from their lawn furniture section. What madness is this, I thought, eyes watering and wallet throbbing.
Pool...
June 2010
19 posts
1 tag
If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you... →
Quote courtesy of: Carl Sagan
Music courtesy of: The Symphony of Science (this is one of many remixes of this track)
Found at: Playing overhead at American Science & Surplus
Names for a talking sloth.
Lev Grossman, author of The Magicians, asked me* for good names for a talking sloth.
Naming talking sloths happens to be one of my specialties. Here are eight of my favorites:
Percy
Clubbins McGann aka Clubby
Randall Wee
Slowinski
Jimmy Jim-Jim, fils
Otto Bismark
Agnar the Disheveler
Roysten Lambic Pons Medulla-Oblongata Lemon Frappe
If naming talking sloths happens to be a specialty...
1 tag
The Ersatz King.
The room is air-conditioned. It has a door with a lock. It is clean. It has a bathroom with hot and cold water and little wrapped soaps and jars of hair products and toilet paper and towels.
When I pull the shades, the room becomes dark. When I turn the TV on, it does not explode. When I plug in the phone charger, electricity flows to my phone.
The neighbors in the two adjoining rooms do...
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Really, that's how it's pronounced.
Daughter: Daddy, that Blackhawk player has a really strange name.
Me: Which player are you talking about?
Daughter: The one with the name B Y F U G L I E N. How is it pronounced?
Me: Blaarfingaar. It's Swedish.
Daughter: OK, thanks Daddy.
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All the flim that's fit to flam. →
And hooray, you can actually buy his stuff again now that the Boing Boing Effect has worn off.
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The things we do for therapy.
I paint small people.
PS: These are about as tall as three quarters stacked up, but it’s not as hard as you’d think it is because you really only paint the colors in blocks. The fun part is basing them.
PPS: So this is what you do to relax? I guess that’s OK… it is less expensive than golf. And it’s about as much of a sport as golf is.
PPPS: Golf is most...
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Bag hag? Bag hag. →
Why bother when someone else has already done it better.
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Something in the way she moos. →
The internet makes an odd Faustian bargain with all of us - when we see things we can’t un-see, it reveals that the only way to rid ourselves of the unwanted memory is to send the offending article to someone else.
Enjoy.
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Somewhere in between.
I had the occasion to have a brief chat with a former colleague today. It was polite, brief, and did I mention polite? Or that it was brief? It was all four of those things.
And no, I’m not referring to you.
The French have a great word for someone who is not un ami but who is not un étranger either. That person is un camarade. You’re happy to be with them when you’re...
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Say hello to my little friend.
“I have always been intrigued by scrimshaw.”
This has nothing to do with, well, anything. But I heard my wife say this to my son a few seconds ago and I was so impressed by it that I thought I’d mention it to you.
In any event.
The Compact Oxford English Dictionary (OED) is a thing of beauty. It is a massive blue book. It has a slipcase. It’s heavier than a box of...
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Coffee with Buster.
One early summer Sunday morning in Babylon I woke up to find my grandfather Buster boiling water in a shallow saucepan.
“Are you making eggs?”
“No, Bobby, I’m making coffee.”
When the water came to a boil he poured some coffee grounds directly into the pan. “Do you drink coffee, Bobby?” I wasn’t quite sure how to answer, so I nodded. As a...
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Stinky cheese? Stinky cheese!
You’re nearing the end of a lovely dinner, and as the salad begins to circulate, the smell of the cheese plate grabs you by the nose and smacks you around. You experience an otherworldly fug of mythic proportions. Your eyes water and your throat constricts. You pray for a quick death as the platter floats, seemingly under its own gaseous power, in your direction.
We’re not talking...
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Burying summer.
In the summer of 1971 my family piled into our blue station wagon and drove six hours to Woods Hole, into the car ferry, and onward to Oak Bluffs, Marthas Vineyard. We stayed in a rented house on Sengekontacket Pond, where I turned over rocks looking for eels and periwinkles most evenings before dinner. One afternoon I filled a bucket full of periwinkles and brought it inside, promptly forgetting...