Thought of the Day

So at the advice of the doc, who is good to us and awesome, we're reading Hugh Prather's "I Touch the Earth, the Earth Touches Me."

It's a collection of not-so-random thoughts that centers on being true to one's self and remembering that spirituality can be a good thing, we suppose.

Surely this must be an ancient proverb: if the situation is killing you, get the hell out.

We like this Hugh Prather.

Too bad most of them are married and/or baby mommies or we'd so be all over Emma

YAY!

Haiku Wednesday Night!

This week's theme?

Relationships.

Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. I know.
Love never meant so much to me.
Can you take those off?

Oh my God that's hot
You really know how to use --
I think I'm done now.

Before I say goodbye
You should know that I am gay
I like men. Sorry.

It's not you it's me.
You're fine. But it's him. He, well
he actually has girth.

You were always fat
I lied and said you were not
Ha! Ha! Fatty Fat.

Man, you're kind of weak.
I always wanted bigger
Thank God for neighbors.

The stipper loves me
I knew it! She likes my charm!
Shit. Where's my wallet?

I love another
She is warm. She is kind. She,
um, she's a midget.

That's OK, Jerry
It's not like I wanted to
have an orgasm.

We weren't going to *touch* this

From the CNN: In her first interview since being released from jail, Paris Hilton told CNN's Larry King on Wednesday that she has never used drugs, isn't a big drinker, and although she feels her incarceration was unwarranted, God had a reason for putting her there. "Don't serve the time; let the time serve you," Hilton said. She said she has emerged from jail determined to eliminate bad friends from her life.

OK.

Can America stop obsessing over this? Lies, all of them. Just before she went to jail, there were shots of her puffing a li'l sticky icky icky on the internets. And the drinking? And the God?

We didn't watch the interview. We were too busy remembering to rehearse and keep pushing to get to who we want to be in five years. But we can't escape the news. Her li'l plastic face is all over the goddamn place.

Can't we all say enough?

When *LarryeffingKing* is the story, well, it's time to move on, no?

We've got another confession to make

So when we were 18, we went to see an Allman Brothers concert in Philly. No, we didn't do that. But we did allegedly perhaps maybe have two MGDs at this concert, some 14 years ago.

We apologize if this alleged law confusion has offended any of our fine readers out there. Our actions may or may not have been deplorable, and we genuinely extend our heartfelt concern and remorse if any of you have allowed this alleged fact to cloud and/or hurt your views of Old Man Snap.

From the nj.com:

Twelve of the 50 or more people arrested Monday night on charges of underage drinking at the PNC Bank Arts Center were younger than 18, and the youngest was 14, a State Police spokeswoman said Tuesday, according to a report in the Asbury Park Press.

The number of arrests at Monday's show, headlined by The Fray, exceeded the 49 underage-drinking arrests made during the June 6 Fall Out Boy show. A total of 53 arrests were made that night, ac-cording to the State Police.

Sgt. Jeanne Hengemuhle, a spokeswoman for the State Police, said at least 55 arrests were made Monday night at the arts center. At least 50 of those arrested faced charges of consuming alcohol under the legal age of 21, she said.

About four of those arrested faced charges of presenting a fraudulent driver's license, she said.

"It's sad to see that some kids still don't get it, and it's going to be a very expensive lesson to learn," Holmdel Mayor Serena DiMaso said in a statement.

Um. The Fray? Who gets hammered for The Fray?

We're not proud

So OMS has been a legit fan of pro wrestling since at least 1982. He had very real dreams about being a pro wrestling manager from then until about, huh, maybe a year or so ago. But then OMS got OM, well, old.

So now, pretty much 24 hours to the minute we'd heard of Chris Benoit's passing, we've come to terms with the fact that Chris Benoit, a flawless wrestler, was a flawfilled human being. Who smothers his son? Sure, some disown. Others abuse. But kill? Literally kill?

Wow.

TMZ forgot some, like Davey Boy and Brian Pillman and Louie Spicolli, but, well, you get the point.

And oh. If one wants to look at a rather complete list, well, here ya go.

Why one may have second thoughts about rejoining the Myspace as an actual, you know, person

From "Gia":

I really like to have fun and laugh and be silly at times. I'm easy-going, pretty quiet and shy. I listen more than I talk. When I do talk though, I'm pretty facetious. I have ambition in life. What i want in a man: someone that is sweet and honest, fun-loving, and overall someone who has a beautiful heart.

If you're interested, let me know... This isn't my account, so reach me a kate_olsen355@yahoo.

Oh sweet Jesus

From the Atlanta Journal-Constitution:

...Investigators believe the 40-year-old Benoit killed his wife, Nancy, and 7-year-old son, Daniel, over the weekend, then himself on Monday. The bodies were found in three rooms.

"The details, when they come out," said Fayette County District Attorney Scott Ballard, "are going to prove a little bizarre."

World Wrestling Entertainment said on its Web site that it asked authorities to check on Benoit and his family after being alerted by friends who received "several curious text messages sent by Benoit early Sunday morning."

RIP, Mr. Benoit.

You were truly one of our favorites.

A thought we've never started the day with at 6:06 a.m. Ever. Especially on a Monday.

"Huh. (We're) in a good mood. A really good mood, even. What the f*ck?"

File this under OMS just wants to watch the Match Point for just for one second or maybe a li'l bit longer. It's just that she's such a talent.

We think we failed God's test

Guy on Bike in Park: So you play?
OMS: (Startled by Guy on Bike in Park) Huh?
GOBIP: Do you know how to play the guitar?
OMS: (Stops playing guitar). (We) play a little.
GOBIP: So you can play?
OMS: Yeah. A little. Why do you want to know?
GOBIP: Just curious. (Peddles off with wife).

So we've thought long and hard about it for more than two weeks, and after reading one more thing, we're more than OK with how it all went down.

RIP, Tony.

Did we mention we love* the deli guy?

Deli Guy, flirting: You know what I always say?
Customer: No. What?
DG: I'd rather look good and feel like crap than look like crap and feel good.
C: (Actually laughs heartily). Wow. That's funny.

*by "love" we kind of mean "loathe."

And then the wicker chair broke

YAY! Running again! No lightning nor thunder! Der Kommissar! Old school Rod Stewart! A little Miranda Lambert to kick your ass! And then with the sweating profusely through your grey old school Charles Barkley "The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth... But They Won't Get the Ball" T-shirt! And the stretching and the water and the more stretching and the showering and the whew finally no more sweat you might as well play geetar on the porch and then with the sitting down and, well, sh*t.

Keep running, though! Maybe tomorrow not so much with the breaking chairs and more with the salad and sitting lightly on things!

Four keys to a good run

1. Don't talk yourself out of it. You're a winner! Your knees don't hurt today! Go for it!

2. Listen to the Yonder Mountain String Band. You *might* dance as you run. You'll definitely smile a little and not remember the now-numbing pain in your knees.

3. Finish strong. Pump those arms. Keep the positive thoughts flowing. Strut a little when you finish the sprint.

4. Hey! Look! Lightning! But you're already finished your run and doing your half-mile cooldown walk. Lightning? Uh-oh. Best gets-a-steppin', son. Sprint that last half-mile home! Forget the downpour, thunder and, oh cool! More lightning! And maybe pray a little and tell God you were only kidding when you briefly wondered what it would feel like to be struck down by his wrath!

...

So Vince McMahon is presumed dead, according to the wwe.com.

Consider the source.

Good thing for us, we turned off the Raw, which we only watch cursory-like on Mondays while, say, doing laundry, cleaning, doing dishes, restringing the geetar, etc., before the major "tragedy."

Ech.

And the point of tonight's last episode ever of The Sopranos was...

Ah the wonders of the internets...

For the record, we so donate clothes to MS and the Salvation Army, and we totally tip well, um, sometimes.

This maybe kind of definitely happened at the local grocery store last night. Oopsies.

Old Man Snap: (Puts ice cream on counter).
Grocery Store Clerk: (Rings up purchase). Do you want to donate $1 to the homeless?
OMS: No, thank you. But can (we) get $20 back?

We prefer the Brandon punch, but this is, well, pretty effing sweet, 9021-no?

HAH! Get it? 'Cause 90210 and well, no...



Thanks, MK. We still miss your column.

We were going to write about the redhead next door who we never, ever, talked to

We think the news should definitely go between live and prep shots. Why? Because of sh*t like this.

And no, the redhead isn't next door now. But in the ol' dream last night (what is this, a dream journal, now?) we were living in the big mansion back in Langhorne and there was Rene Eleuteri, complete with conversation -- which is just weird.

See, Rene Eleuteri, pretty and athletic and a bit sarcastic and fun, scared us when we were a kid and we maybe said nothing to her from 1986 to the present. Of course we didn't. Why would we when we were Young Shy Pudgeball back in the day?

So in this dream, she asked us if we were wearing a pin.

"Huh?" we asked.

"Are you married?" she said.

And then we woke up.

Um.

Why on earth is Old Man Snap dreaming about playing a li'l person midget dwarf in a billiards' tournament?

We don't know, either. We were winning, though. So there's that. And we asked him if he wanted a smaller, er, lighter, stick. He said he was just fine, thank you.

Sarah Silverman is our hero. And really hot.

From the MTV Movie Awards last night. We caught the last 15 minutes or so, post-Amy Winehouse. We think the Transformers were sponsoring that last quarter-hour. There seemed to be a lot of, um, references.

Jackpot!

So when we logged in, we realized that this the 778th post in the short history of the ol' Porch and the Parking Lot. When you break it down, there's at least 38 bashing Bush, 102 random work stories, and upwards of 327 about us when our best friend nicknamed us, "Fats."

So onward and upward on our quest for 1,000 posts and quick retirement. Yay for early retirement!

We move onward and upward today with a multiple choice quiz. Which of the following happened in the last 24 hours or so?

A. We didn't chat up a hot blonde who spoke Italian for one conversation and English for the next while she babbled across from us on her cell phone at the Greensboro Airport with *no one* else around.
B. We blushed when the young good lookin' fella complimented our cargo camouflage camoflagge camo shorts because he wore the same ones and "style can't suffer while flying," he said.
C. We actually made a deli line joke at the supermarket and made the li'l brunette lass chuckle -- mainly to make up for not talking to Sorento, over there.
D. All of the above.

Good luck, kids.

GONE CAROLINAIN'

Be back Sunday. And then back to the regular, daily, posting schedule. Three of you have complained -- we think three of you are the only regulars anymore, and we dig this about y'all -- and it's high time we got our sh*t together.

We were going to retire, but then, well, we'd miss the fanfare.

In the meantime, RSR!

LeBron did what, now?

Wow. Seriously. Wow.