Dispatches from the Control Room – February 22

Artist’s Rendering

* Mark this day in your diaries, dear readers. I think I’m actually in a good mood.


Two of my best friends drove down from Michigan to take in my improv show last night and we rocked some fondue from The Melting Pot beforehand. I’m normally not a big fondue guy, but our server told us how to make some cheese-filled battered mushroom caps and they were phenomenal. Plus, my pals picked up the tab. (Fondue ain’t cheap, even though you do all the cooking.)

When I rolled in to work, Writer Theresa presented us with a box of donut holes.

And then Dick dropped a box of amazing toffee on my desk.

The company of friends, an improv show and a constant mouthful of food would normally be enough to send me into the stratosphere, but I also decided to treat myself by running Rob Elgas’ sleep deprivation story today. That’s three minutes I don’t have to fill in my show. Yeah, baby. Easy street!

And I’m headed home for the weekend for my dad’s birthday. AND Sunday brings the Oscars. Now, let me put my game face on so I can get back to the relentless griping you’re used to.

* Dick’s delicious box of toffee may have been a bribe. I can’t tell, and I don’t really care. Either way, he gets to read all the good stories today. If Zoraida ever gets around to bribing me, I’ll allow her back in my good graces. (Her Valentine’s Day pizza is now just a memory.)

* Web Czar Marcus suggested in a comment yesterday that he wouldn’t blog under the alias of a 21-year-old female college student. Then again, I wouldn’t think he’d be so enamored with the Chicago Dance-Off, so I don’t know what to believe.

* So Chicago unloaded Ben Wallace, huh? Big Ben was my favorite Piston and I was heartbroken when you stole him from us. But there was no way he was worth the kind of money you threw his way. Congrats on finding a more gullible team to absorb the cap hit. I don’t know what to make of the Bulls. Then again, neither does John Paxson.

* Drew Peterson says he’s “shocked” his third wife’s death was ruled a homicide. I nominate him to play Captain Renault in the remake of “Casablanca.”

* Some people are cutting and pasting other people’s profiles from dating websites so they sound more impressive. My Match.com profile says, “I’m a 30-year-old misanthrope who works the third shift for little money and less respect.” Good luck impressing a girl with that, suckers.

* Someone who needs no help meeting guys? This 16-year-old Argentine girl. She’s had seven babies already. SEVEN! Pay attention, Jamie Lynn.

* Ever wonder what a guy who would have sex with a dog looks like? Like this.

When I alerted Highlander Producer Carol about this story, we had the following conversation through our computer messaging system…


Me: “Ask me in about 6 months.”

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