As a general rule, I try to avoid belonging to any group (or Group) with the word "Prancing" in its title.

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I grew up with a guy named Charlie Brown.
Travis Herrick said:

Which reminds me I grew up with a guy named Billy Kidd.

Doctor Hmmm? said:

If your last name is Miserables, you shouldn't name your son Lester.

I went to high school with a James Bond and a Clark Kent.

You win.  :)

Apparently, the Vatican didn't get my resume.

I was just talking to a friend -- an intelligent young woman in her mid-30's -- and described Robert Benchley as "sort of the Dave Barry of his generation," and she said "Who's Dave Barry?"

So right now, I'm feeling kind of old. 

If the Discovery Channel ever wants a ratings boost, it should air an hour of "Kari Byron on the earthquake simulator" every night of the week.

Captain Comics said:

Not only did Tony quickly change from gray to gold, and Hulk from gray to green, but Ant-Man became Giant-Man in only the second issue of Avengers! (And the Hulk quit!) That was one of the things that quickly distinguished Marvel from DC in the early Silver Age, the feeling that Marvel was flying by the seat of its pants and anything could happen. As opposed to DC, which was very buttoned-down and micro-managed. As I used to say in those days, "DC is run by lawyers, but Marvel is run by monkeys." Now there is very little difference between the two -- at least compared to the '60s.

So Marvel was run by monkeys flying by the seat of their pants?

Flying monkeys?

THESIS: The 1960's Marvel bullpen was The Land of Oz.


I really hope Anthony Weiner wins his bid to become Mayor of NYC.

And then is nominated for an Academy Award.

Man, that song would practically write itself.

The problem with rotating boards of directors is that there's no institutional memory.  Every conceivable discredited argument or shopworn idea is eventually resurrected every few years as though it were the world's most original thought, and you end up fighting the same old wars over and over again.

You know you are the parent of a (almost) 9-year-old boy when you find yourself buying toys with names like Lava Barf Eruptor.

I'm wild, wooly and full of gumdrops!

An unexpected three-day weekend is nice, but I hope the power lines hold out.

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