"Mission: Impossible" and "Airplane!" star Peter Graves was found dead last night at the age of 83 under mysterious circumstances, and as one of the preeminent journalists who has a picture of themselves eating ice cream with Hitler, I was invited to interview him:

Me: Hi Peter, thanks for meeting with me.

PG: (in a whisper) I am not Peter. I'm on a top-secret mission and my name is Dyed. Howie Dyed.

Me: Well, I'm here to interview Peter Graves and I wanted to find out how he died.

PG: Yes?

Me: Oh, I see what you did there. Two can play that game. Have you ever been in a Turkish prison, Peter?

PG: I told you, Peter's not here.

Me: But he-

PG: Oh, Buddy's been in a Turkish prison.

Me: Sigh. And he's the same as Peter Graves?

PG: Andy? No, Andy has nothing to do with Peter Graves.

Me: Now I'm confused how he-

PG: Yes?

Me: Okay. I want to talk to Peter. Will he-

PG: Willy's in the other room.

Me: Oh. My. God. I want to punch you so f-

PG: Yusuf? That's our target. Have you seen him?

Me: That didn't even sound like the same thing! Now I know you're just fucking with me.

PG: King Withme is Yusuf's boss. Whose side are you on?

Me: Youon isn't here right now.

PG: Don't be a moron.

Corey Haim
My Grandmother
Roy Scheider
Zelda Rubinstein and J.D. Salinger
Brittany Murphy
Oral Roberts
John Lennon
Ken Ober
Henry Gibson
Patrick Swayze
Ted Kennedy
John Hughes
Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Walter Cronkite
Billy Mays
Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Robert Novak
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.

Wearing our strawberry hats

I went to the Florida Strawberry Festival yesterday with a couple of friends, and while they apparently have concerts and pig races and a fairway and crafts and all types of other stuff, we went for the food:

Deep fried Pepsi was concentrated Pepsi syrup fried in dough. Eating this was like having all the bite of a Pepsi in one squirt. It was weirdly appealing. Deep fried butter was amazing – a frozen ball of butter is coated in batter and then deep fried. The butter melts, so when you take a bite, you are essentially drinking hot, delicious butter. I can't think of anything better than that.

Deep Fried Pepsi and Deep Fried Butter

The Krispy Kreme burger was a heart attack waiting to happen, and I can't imagine eating a whole one by myself. You take two hot, fresh Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts, and slap a thin burger patty with cheese and bacon in between. The sweet and salty combination made this our favorite food of the entire day.

Krispy Kreme Burger

Take salty, crispy Hormel bacon and a chocolate dipping sauce with the consistency of a fondue, and you have a winner. The chocolate dipped bacon was just a better variation on the whole "French Fry in the Frosty" thing that all of us have tried at some point.

Chocolate Dipped Bacon

No visit to the Strawberry Festival is complete without some strawberry shortcake. The strawberries are the freshest you could possibly find, and the shortcake is soft and moist. Definitely a favorite, even if it's simple.

Strawberry Shortcake

In conclusion: We drove an hour and a half to spend three hours eating some of the unhealthiest foods known to mankind and managed to avoid doing anything at all socially relevant or participatory at the same time. All in all, win win.

I know this went live a few days ago, but it is pretty exciting! And fucking Team Jacob all the way!

They're generally uncomfortable and hot and restrict your movement and have no purpose other than a dress code. They're only slightly more useful than a tie.

From the years of 2001 until 2008, I didn't even own a pair of pants of any type. I lived in Southern California and then Florida, so all I needed were shorts. I finally broke down in 2009 and bought a pair of jeans, but that was about it.

For my grandmother's funeral yesterday, I went out and bought a pair of black slacks. This might be the first pair of black pants that I have ever owned. I bought these pants out of a sense of obligation. First of all, there may have been some discussion among family members about how my post was a bit disrespectful, so I wanted to show respect at the funeral. Secondly, I just knew that my mother would probably stab me in the face if I walked into the house in a pair of shorts. And I like my face. And finally, I realized that I really didn't hate wearing the tuxedo for Britt's birthday prom, so maybe owning a pair of pants would be a good idea.

And you know what? They were comfortable, I liked how I felt and looked, and none of the issues I had with pants in previous years seemed to really exist anymore. Pants really aren't so bad after all. In fact, I might even start to like them.

Welcome to my life, pants.

Photo by findmew

Me: Hi Corey, thanks for talking with me.

CH: It's my pleasure. I want all of my fans to know that I'm okay. They don't need to worry.

Me: Well, most of your fans are in their late 30s and early 40s and probably have plenty of other shit to worry about now. But I'll pass along the message.

CH: I appreciate it. I know that my demographic might skew a little older now that I'm older, but to many of them, I'll always be Sam or Lucas.

Me: I wouldn't know. I've never seen Lost Boys or Lucas and the only time I've ever heard of you was the horrible "License to Drive".

CH: Really?

Me: Yup! Now the other Corey? I loved him in Goonies.

CH: Felllldmannn. Don't even get me started.

Me: I thought you guys got along now?

CH: Are you kidding? The guy is a grade-A douchebag. Have you ever heard him speak?

Me: Yeah, he kind of oozes when he talks.

CH: Did you ever see that clip they showed on The Soup where Feldman sang at his wife? He thought that was romantic and now he'll only have sex when they play that song.

Me: Ok, that's creepy.

CH: Dude, tell me about it. I've spent my whole life trying to get away from Corey fucking Feldman, but he just won't die! He's like a cockroach. That's why I did what I did.

Me: What's that?

CH: You know.

Me: Umm, no I don't.

CH: Sure you do!

Me: Pretend I don't.

CH: That's why I died!

Me: You committed suicide to get away from Corey Feldman?

CH: Well, kind of, but it has its perks.

Me: It does?

CH: Yeah! I'm really strong now and I can fly!

Me: Ummm….

CH: And I can see at night and I will live forever!

Me: Umm, Corey? Do you think that you're a vampire now?

CH: Yeah! See? Look at my fangs!

Me: Those are just your canine teeth and I think mine are sharper looking than that.

CH: But look how pale I am!

Me: That's because you're dead.

CH: Yeah, see? Undead!

Me: No. Just. Plain. Dead.

CH: I'm a vampire – watch me lift this chair with one hand!

Me: A child with polio could lift that chair.

CH: Bah! You're just an unbeliever. I'll show you.

Me: What are you doing? Did you just poop your pants?

CH: No! I'm trying to turn into a bat!

Me: Oh. I think if you're not careful you might-

CH: I just pooped myself.

Me: And there we go.

CH: But . . . but I wanted to become more famous than Feldman!

Me: Sorry, buddy. Good luck in whatever place it is that washed up TV child-stars go!

CH: *sniff* I am a vampire. I am a vampire. I am a vampire. *sniff*

Me: Please stop biting me.

My Grandmother
Roy Scheider
Zelda Rubinstein and J.D. Salinger
Brittany Murphy
Oral Roberts
John Lennon
Ken Ober
Henry Gibson
Patrick Swayze
Ted Kennedy
John Hughes
Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Walter Cronkite
Billy Mays
Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Robert Novak
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.

While the media has picked up on a few of his answers as being relevantly creepy ("What's your best time?" "Nighttime.") and predictive, I have an actual transcript that shows his serial killer nature even more explicitly:

Question: Bachelor #1, we go on our second date. I don't like the beach or the movies. Where would you take me?
Answer: I'd blindfold you and drive you somewhere secluded where just the two of us could enjoy a very special time.

Question: Bachelor #1, if we got into an argument and I told you to leave, what would you do?
Answer: Oh no, we can't have that. I don't even let Mother talk to me in that tone. I'm not a naughty boy and don't deserve to be punished!

Question: Bachelor #1, what do you look for in a girl that you want to date?
Answer: Weak arms and no long fingernails.

Question: Bachelor #1, what is the most appealing part of your personality?
Answer: It depends whether or not I've given into the rage or appeased it with a sacrifice.

Question: Bachelor #1, it's our fourth date, and I've invited you into my home. What base would you try to get to?
Answer: Fourteenteen red.

Question: Bachelor #2, why should I choose you?
Answer: Well, first of all, because I'm not a fucking serial killer. I mean, c'mon, have any of you even been listening to Bachelor #1? He's creeping me out with the drooling and Charles Manson hair and the way he keeps touching himself. I'm telling you, if you go with him, you will die.

Question: Bachelor #1, same question.
Answer: Because you and I would fit together like a glove and a ball, or like a skin suit and a person wearing said skin suit.
(Bachelor #2): SEE??!??

I'd transcribe more, but that's when he pulled the dead cat out from his jacket and began to swing it around his head by the tail and called it his Jesus Helicopter Cat. You can't get much more explicit than that, people.

Nana (pictured here with Uncle Saddam)

My grandmother, pictured above with her second favorite dictator, passed away Friday night. This is the same grandmother I've written about previously. She was suffering from the late stages of Alzheimer's, and her death, while sad, was merciful.

Eileen was the oldest of 15 children. She raised many of her younger brothers and sisters as if they were her own children, and supported many of them, paying for college and other expenses, just like a parent. She was the matriarch to the Irish Catholic side of my family. By the time I knew her, she was the very strict, serious, older lady that you didn't dare disappoint. She was very religious, never swore, was fair to each grandchild to a fault, and disapproved of fully half of anything that a child would do. This isn't to say that she didn't love – she cared deeper than she showed, and loved everyone equally and unconditionally. But you sure as fuck didn't want to do anything to disappoint her. "You had better hope that your Nana doesn't hear about this!" was a familiar mantra heard around my home. Today, I got the chance to interview her posthumously which means, thankfully, that her mental state had returned to how she used to be. (NOTE: The following is a PARODY and in no way reflects my actual grandmother, who was about as close to a saint as you could possibly be.)

Me: Hi Nana.

Nana: Hi dear.

Me: I'm sorry you're not here anymore. I miss you.

Nana: Is that why you only visited me once when I was in the home?

Me: It was too hard to see you like that. And I didn't think you'd really want any of us to see you in that state.

Nana: So does this mean you're skipping my funeral too?

Me: If it wasn't to be there for Mom and Papa, I wouldn't go to that, either.

Nana: And what's this I hear about you getting a divorce?

Me: Ohhh, ummm, yeah.

Nana: You know you're going to hell, right?

Me: For getting a divorce? That's not fair.

Nana: No, not for the divorce – that's just what you get for living in sin before you got married.

Me: Then why?

Nana: Because I can see everything now – and there is no way God is letting you into heaven with all of that porn you look at.

Me: You can see THAT?!?

Nana: Yes, and you should be ashamed of yourself. If I wasn't already dead, finding out that there's something called "tranny porn" would have killed me on the spot. And then how would you have liked finding out that you killed your poor grandmother?

Me: But I didn't! And that was just for research purposes.

Nana: You need a hand down your pants to research?

Me: I . . Uh . . Um . . .

Nana: I'm just fucking with you.

Me: NANA!!!

Nana: What? Can't a woman drop an f-bomb on you?

Me: Not when you're my Nana, and I've never even heard you say "hell"!

Nana: I usually reserved that type of language for the bedroom.

Me: Oh God.

Nana: You don't want to hear about me and your grandfather having sex? You do know that your mother wasn't immaculately conceived, even if she's convinced you she was, right?

Me: No no no no no no (rocking back and forth)

Nana: I used to joke that your Papa's name was destined to be Howie . . .

Me: Please stop (crying)

Nana: . . . as in "how he makes me feel down there"

Me: shh shh shh shh no shhh shh

Nana: And by "down there", I mean my vagina.

Me: GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…..

Roy Scheider
Zelda Rubinstein and J.D. Salinger
Brittany Murphy
Oral Roberts
John Lennon
Ken Ober
Henry Gibson
Patrick Swayze
Ted Kennedy
John Hughes
Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Walter Cronkite
Billy Mays
Ed McMahon
Stephen Hawking
Robert Novak
Caylee Anthony
David Carradine
Martin Luther King, Jr.

In haiku form, what did you do this weekend?

Most of you have already seen this, I'm sure, but for those of you who haven't, it's awesome. I love seeing all these actors get together to play different Presidents. And Chevy Chase and Dana Carvey in one room? Comedy awesomeness, in my opinion. Thanks to Faiqa for pointing it out to me!

I'm not sure what to say about this movie. I'll start with the visuals. It was beautiful. A perfect Tim Burton world, realized down to every little detail. I could watch full scenes without paying attention to the dialogue and just enjoy how damn pretty it looked, all with its own skewed twist.

The story, however, needed a lot of work. It was written like someone read Lewis Carroll's work, pulled out some key phrases, and tried to write a script around them. It didn't have the feel of Carroll, of his illogical logic and random strangeness. Rather than expand on the universe, using the same rules set forth by Carroll, it was a poorly made Xerox of Wonderland, with some smudges right where the important parts were.

I don't know what genius decided to name this "Alice in Wonderland" but make a Hook-like return to Wonderland. I don't know why anyone thought that watching Tim Burton work his mad genius on the original works would be a poor idea. I don't know why this movie existed other than to give Johnny Depp a ridiculous Scottish accent and a bigger role than he really needed.

I liked it, but it should have been named something different. And the dialogue should have been rewritten by someone with a brain. And the gorgeous actress who played Alice, Mia Wasikowska, should have done some full frontal nudity.

I give it three out of five vorpal blades.

(And for those of you who haven't read the original works, the poem I posted yesterday is verbatim from Carroll's works.)