Tattoo you? How? Who? Eh? Speak up!
Remember when Cracker Jack tattoos were the only way to turn yourself into a young Queequeg? Those little slips of paper with food coloring that blended into a mix of two colors? Yes,… Read More
Remember when Cracker Jack tattoos were the only way to turn yourself into a young Queequeg? Those little slips of paper with food coloring that blended into a mix of two colors? Yes,… Read More
Before I even finished my coffee yesterday, I heard, “Ow, ow, ow! There’s a sticker on my penis! Ow! Ow! Help, Mommy! Help! Help! HELP!!!!!” Um, what? Um, hello? “Uh, what do you… Read More
The CDC nearly took down its own Web site this week when the excited masses learned it had featured a blog post about how to survive a zombie apocalypse. I’m one of the… Read More
I admit it. I have a tyrannical side that likes to step in when the boys act up and just say “Nooooooooo!,” with a long low growl, and possibly some teeth showing; I… Read More
