It’s costly for employers, who spend money on recruiters or HR staff to review resumes, phone-screen candidates, check references, etc. Then they pull employees away from productive work to spend time interviewing candidates. Usually several employees, for interviews with several candidates. It adds up.

For job seekers, if you don’t happen to interview well, you are in serious trouble. You could be the most qualified candidate, only to be screened out when you stumble on some contrived interview question. What is your greatest weakness? If you were a superhero, which one would you be? If you worked here, would you be home now? I honestly can’t say, I seem to have a basic problem with asinine questions.

These days, you can’t even get an interview to begin with unless you exactly match the qualifications listed on the job description. This leads to another question: what kind of unimaginative drone wants to do exactly the same thing in a new position? And why would anyone want to work for a company that sees an employee as nothing more than a list of skills, incapable of learning anything new?

If you do manage to get your foot in the door and get an interview, the real nightmare begins. To prepare for the interview, you can research the company, but nothing can prepare you for the weird people who will interview you.

Some people seem to dislike you from the get-go, possibly based on your resume, or because they don’t like what you’re wearing, or the way you talk, or maybe because you resemble someone they don’t like. Who knows? Other interviewers will admit they haven’t looked at your resume, and will act bored while you fill them in on your background. Still others seem to be interviewing you for an entirely different position than the one in the job description. The absolute worst is the gang interview, in which several people interview you simultaneously.

For one set of interviews, I was placed in a circular conference room with glass walls, which was sort of like being in a giant fish tank. What am I, a pet iguana? I’m in a freaking enclosure here! Why not put some gravel on the floor and throw in a couple of logs for me to climb on? But that wasn’t the worst part. The glass walls weren’t clear, they were tinted red. Such a nice, soothing color. I was okay at first, but after a while it started to get to me. It was like The Shining. Red room. Red Room. Redrum! REDRUM! REDRUM!

After a couple of hours in the REDRUM, I was ready to climb the walls (much like a pet iguana), and my normal interview style of babbling like an idiot devolved into a series of incoherent grunts and squeals. I think I may have sounded somewhat like “Flipper” (the bottle-nose dolphin), if Flipper had recently smoked a lot of crystal meth. The interviewer, who happened to be the hiring manager, also happened to be asking about my communication skills at the time, so that pretty much was that. I had spent literally hours preparing for that interview, only to crash and burn.

So I’ve decided to fight back. From now on, I’ll have some fun with job interviews. It’s going to go something like this:

Sample Interview Questions and Answers

Q: What is your greatest weakness?
A: Well, sometimes I throw up during job interviews.

Q: Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
A: That really depends on the number of parole violations.

Q: Do you belong to any professional organizations?
A: Would a white supremacist gun club count?

Q: How do you handle stress and pressure?
A: Drugs and alcohol.

Q: What motivates you?
A: Greed. Also, sex.

Q: Why are you leaving your current job?
A: Because of the restraining order.

Q: Can you give an example of seizing the initiative?
A: I’m HIRED. Now get me some coffee, biatch.

Okay, I won’t get the job, but I probably wouldn’t have gotten it anyway, and I’ll have some fun in the process.

For what it’s worth, here are my proposals for a system to replace the current job interview process:

• If you have transferable skills that mesh pretty well — not necessarily exactly – with the job description, you’re in the running.
• You are not discriminated against for gaps in employment, unless incarceration was involved. It’s a tough job market out there; it has been for years. Employers: think about how much more motivated someone will be when they’ve been without a steady paycheck for a while.
• Really good recommendations from former employers and coworkers should count more than anything else. “He did a good job, he learns new things quickly, he worked extra hours when necessary, he played well with others. He didn’t give me any crap. He made me look good. I would hire him again.” What more do you want?
• You interview with the hiring manager, period, not with six people who don’t want to waste their time interviewing people to begin with. And preferably not in a giant red fish tank.

If you like meetings, you are most definitely weird. You want to have a meeting, just to make sure we’re all on the same page? Do you want to know what’s written on that page? It’s committal orders to an insane asylum.

I currently work for a geographically dispersed company, so we phone in to a lot of meetings. If the meeting hasn’t started yet, you are routed to something called the Intercall Lounge, where you listen to the worst music known to mankind while you wait. If there is a Hell, this would be the soundtrack. After a few minutes in the Intercall Lounge, you really start to question whether life is worth living in a world where such music exists.

Next, it’s time for another complete waste of time: roll call. This is the 21st century. I’m sure the technology exists to identify and list the people who call in for the meeting. But for some reason we still do roll call. If it’s a big corporate meeting, this is really going to take some time. You’ll be introduced to lots of people you don’t know, who you will never work with, and who have absolutely no direct bearing on your job. Even for a smaller meeting, several minutes are wasted with roll call. Who’s on the line? Who just joined? Who freaking cares? Just get on with it!

Once the meeting starts, you start to hear from the people who don’t know how to use the mute button. I have heard loud typing, coughing, belching, music, video games, and dogs barking. One woman called in while going through security at an airport (we could hear the airport announcements). I have called in to a meeting while driving in my car with my children, one of whom commented, “Way to be safe, Dad!” I once went to the bathroom while on a conference call (it was an emergency). So far I have not had sex while on a conference call, but I bet someone has. That’s where you would definitely want to double-check to make sure your phone is on mute, or the meeting would get really interesting.

Sometimes there’s a delay when people come off of mute, and this is the question that’s always asked: “Bob, were you on mute?” This is pretty stupid question, but usually people give the expected stupid answer: “Yes, I was on mute.” And for some weird reason they usually sound guilty about it. Why should anyone feel guilty about this? Look, do you want the slight delay coming back from mute, or do you want the barking dog and the bathroom noises? But the question cries out for sarcasm. Here are a few suggestions:

“Were you on mute?”

• No, I was ignoring you.
• No, I’m just trying to add some dramatic tension.
• Yes, I’m in the bathroom! Jeez!
• No, I’m on a 4 second delay because I swear a lot.
• Yes, and I’m trying to have sex! Jeez!

As to the content of the meetings, well, as Woody Allen said, ninety percent of life is showing up. Ninety percent of meetings may be a waste of time, but they expect you to show up. I usually bring my laptop and work during meetings. That way, I appear to be super busy, conscientious, and productive. And it frees up time for me to work on more important things when I get back to my desk, such as blogging and Facebook.

When you finally die after a lifetime spent in meetings, what happens? According to accounts of NDEs (Near Death Experiences), death is much like taking the subway to work. You travel through a tunnel at a high rate of speed, then emerge into the light and attend a life review meeting. God only knows how long that will take, but then you finally meet your maker. How long does that meeting last? Well, it’s pretty much like every other meeting you’ve attended. An eternity.

Pre-dawn on the edge of a forest in primeval Europe. A group of Neanderthals sleeps around the glowing embers of last night’s fire. Yesterday’s kill was successful, and today they sleep soundly after gorging themselves late into the night on Woolly Mammoth roasted over an open fire. Possibly, there was also lots of primitive beer involved.

Suddenly, one Neanderthal — let’s call him “Douche-Gronk” — leaps out of bed. Douche-Gronk is a “Morning Prehuman.”

“What’s this?” thinks Douche-Gronk. “Everyone is asleep? Douche-Gronk is bored! Bored, bored, BORED!”

So Douche-Gronk decides to wake up one of my ancestors (I checked ancestry.com, and everything keeps coming up Neanderthal), “Dave-Gar.” Dave-Gar is definitely not a Morning Prehuman, and is still fast asleep.

Douche-Gronk pokes him…once…twice…three times. After the third poke, Dave-Gar grabs his club and bludgeons Douche-Gronk to death. This is good, but now Dave-Gar is awake. That is bad.

Are you a morning person? Do you like to leap out of bed with a sunny — and quite probably psychotic — smile? Then you are officially weird, and should probably seek professional help. Or just be bludgeoned to death.

If natural selection worked, we’d all be sleeping in right now. But apparently something went wrong somewhere. Maybe the Douche-Gronks were too fast, or corrective reactions were too slow due to sleepiness. Who knows. But for whatever reason, they’re still out there. And they’re making our lives miserable.

Like the clueless boss who not only gets in ridiculously early, but is at your desk asking for stuff the minute you get in. Have you ever had one of these? You’ve just spent an hour or two commuting, and you could really use a cup of coffee. And a bathroom, big time. This does not concern Clueless Boss in the slightest. “I need this done right away,” he says, which is bad enough, but it looks like he is planning on staying and watching you as you do it.  Aye, aye, Captain! I’ll just soil myself and get this out right away!

But it’s not just work. Getting Up Early disease also affects leisure activities. You want me to get up at 3:30 AM on a Saturday to go fishing? That’s one idea. Here’s another idea: I’ll sleep in until noon, then I’ll go out and buy some fish. We’ll both end up with fish at about the same time, and I’ll smell better.

Church? You want me to get up early on Sunday and go to church? Thanks, but no thanks — I’ll take my chances with eternal damnation. And isn’t the Sabbath supposed to be a day of rest? On the seventh day He rested? Word from God: stay in bed.

We’ve all read the news stories about the health risks associated with not getting enough sleep. The cause? Getting up early.

Getting up early causes weight gain, immune system suppression, caffeine abuse, toxic morning breath, slurred speech, foggy mental breakdown (which also involves auditory banjo hallucinations), bad makeup, clothing dementia, and irritable brain syndrome. Most heart attacks occur in the morning, right after people look at themselves in the mirror.

Countless other people are tragically killed by people suffering from MIP (Morning-Induced Psychosis), who should never have attempted to get up early in the first place, at least without a breakfast sandwich or something.

The solution? I think it’s obvious. We all just need to STOP GETTING UP EARLY.

Okay, I guess that’s enough for now. I think I’ve made my point. If you like getting up early, you are definitely WEIRD.

In closing, I can’t speak for everyone else who hates getting up in the morning, but it does help me to not fear death. I don’t know what happens when you die — I guess none of us really does — but I do know one thing.  At the very least, I will not have to get up the next morning. Ever again.

Which sounds pretty good some mornings.

Underground nuclear testing has confirmed that Barbie™ packaging is one of the most durable forms of matter in the known universe. A Bratz™ doll package was recently bombarded with dual proton beams with an energy of 7 trillion electron-volts per particle in the Large Hadron Collider. The package emerged completely unscathed, but it is believed that one of the twist-ties may have been loosened slightly.

First you have to try to get into the box, which has ingenious interlocking tabs. These tabs are so ingenious that nothing else would be required to securely package the toy, but someone has still seen fit to apply heavy duty packing tape and amazingly strong transparent adhesive discs to every seam of the box.

Once inside, you discover that every little plastic shoe, comb, etc. is encased in hardened molded plastic. The plastic mold has somehow been heat-welded to the box, which requires you to use tremendous force to pull it off. Most of the toy parts are firmly retained in the molded plastic when it goes flying across the room, but two or three are jettisoned. You’ll spend an hour or two looking for those later. But why spend the time and money to build a mold? Why not just put all of the little pieces in a little plastic bag?

Next you find approximately 3000 heavy-gauge industrial wire twist-ties securing the doll to a reinforced cardboard backing. The twisted end of each of the twist-ties has been folded down and secured to the back of the cardboard with packing tape, and in some cases covered with another layer of cardboard and packing tape. These twist-ties have apparently have been installed using a high-torque industrial twist-tie spinner, and can only be removed with pliers or wire cutters. You can try scissors, but you’ll ruin the scissors and probably cut yourself.

Finally there’s the hair, which is is secured to the box with heavy duty cellophane interwoven with some sort of advanced mono-filament mesh — possibly obtained from a crashed alien spacecraft — that retains its strength even when portions of it are cut.

And this is just for one doll. Then you have the big items — the boats, the planes, the houses, the castles. Poorly written and illustrated assembly procedures. And dozens of decals to apply. Please dear God, not the decals again! There are also ongoing maintenance tasks involving repeatedly inflating things, filling things with water, putting things in the freezer, and providing ice water and hot water to facilitate temperature-state-induced color changes.

Then we have drug packaging. Okay, a long time ago, someone messed with the Tylenol™. So I’ll acknowledge there was a packaging issue, but I think we overreacted. Opening drug packaging is difficult for normal people, and often impossible for the elderly or arthritic. There has to be a way to make it safe, but easier to open.

But what happened with the condiments? Why are the mustard and ketchup containers now sealed as if they are pharmaceutical products? Why does the chocolate syrup have not only an outer seal that requires scissors to open, but also an inner foil-plastic seal under the cap? I have not read any reports about terrorists targeting our chocolate syrup.

WARNING: THE NEXT PARAGRAPH CONTAINS EUPHEMISMS THAT MAY NOT BE APPROPRIATE  FOR ALL AUDIENCES. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Juice bags and boxes. Sometimes you can get the pointy straw to penetrate the hole, sometimes you can’t. Sometimes the pointy straw just isn’t stiff enough. You keep trying to ram it in, but it just won’t go in. Or you finally are able to cram it in, but juice flies everywhere. So you need to take a shower afterward.

Small appliances — they’re in a sealed box. Safely nestled in a Styrofoam cradle. In a plastic bag. So why does the keypad need a special plastic protector, which is so good you don’t realize it’s there? I recently bought a microwave. A few weeks went by, and I started to see weird little wrinkles on the keypad. I started to think it was the normal coating that was coming off, and I needed to call the manufacturer. Then I finally realized it was just a packaging thing I was supposed to have peeled off to begin with. But it really wasn’t necessary to begin with.

And perhaps the worst of all: DVD packaging. The outer cellophane is amazingly tough — it looks like you should be able to get a fingernail under one of the seams, but you need scissors to get through it, and you need to really bear down. Once the cellophane is off, you have to remove three adhesive strips on the seams of the box. I don’t know where they got this tape, but it’s completely diabolical. It’s like you’re somehow being punished for buying the DVD. You get an edge started, thinking you can pull the whole piece off, only to have a tiny corner tear off. Or you manage to get the first third or so off, and then it veers off to one side. That end is now messed up, so you have to start again at the other end. Thirty or forty minutes later, you’re ready to watch your DVD.

I’m guessing that if we redesigned all of this packaging for the purpose of protecting products that are being shipped in a truck or airplane — not run over by a truck or dropped from an airplane — we could see a significant decrease in retail prices. We’d have a lot more spare time on our hands to actually play with the toys with our children, enjoy the products, watch the DVDs. Life would be much better. And much less WEIRD.

“I don’t give a damn for a man that can only spell a word one way.”

— Mark Twain

Mark Twain would have loved Froot Loops.

Apparently Samuel Langhorne Clemens had some serious issues with spelling. He felt it was a complete waste of time and energy to correct spelling errors. I’m guessing he had the same type of English teacher I had in elementary school. Or it could actually have been the same English teacher; she could have passed for anywhere from 75 to 3500 years old. I think she may even still be teaching. Or leading the Army of the Nile against the Romans.

For 12 long years, we are strictly graded on spelling in school. We have to learn the spelling rules, and the endless exceptions to the rules. We memorize lists of words. We take spelling tests. Otherwise brilliantly composed reports lose points for spelling errors. We are forced to participate in spelling bees, a brutal competition in which a dubious correlation between spelling ability and intelligence is reinforced both ruthlessly and publicly.

And then. And then.

And then we get out of school into the world of Froot Loops, Rite Aid, and La-Z-Boy. Someone — not God — said, “Let there be lite.” And there was lite, spreading faster than the speed-o-lite. Lite beer. Lite dinner entrees. Lite ‘n’ fit yogurt. Lite pizza. Lite potato salad. Lite Brite, which manages to incorporate two non-words, and which should not be confused with Brite Life support hose or Rite Brite retainer cleaner. We even have lite music, performed by Gordon Litefoot (just kidding on that one, Gordo).

Then we have “easy.” Four letters. I’m willing to bet that most 1st graders would be able to spell “easy.” But that’s just too long for marketing purposes. People would be completely baffled. We have to go with “ez.” Ez credit repair, ez grow grass (shouldn’t that be ez gro?), ez listening music, ez storage, ez meals. The IRS even has an EZ tax form, which does not mean “easy,” but is actually an acronym for Expect Zero (refund).

There are also a lot of froots out there. Why? Because it’s just more catchy than “fruit,” darn it! Not only Froot Loops, but Froot by the Foot, the Froot Computer (Dell), the froot guard (which protects fruit), and froot smoothies. For some strange reason, it’s Fruit of the Loom and not Froot of the Loom. Frankly, there are too many froots out there, so I’m guessing it’s getting hard to differentiate your brand against the competition. I would suggest adding more “o’s.” If Froot Loops are good, just imagine how much better Frooooooot Loops would be. Much, much frooootier! Or even better, Frooooooot Looooooops. Frooooooooooooooot Loooooooooooooooops. Must…stop…now…

Well, I guess I’ve had enough of this for now. I’m going to get into my La-Z-Boy recliner, crack open a lite beer, put on some ez listening music, and just try to forget about all of this. Later on I’ll heat up a frozen entree — probably one of those lite n ez entrees that r just rite for u.

But wait. I just noticed that “lite” is officially listed on dictionary.com: “an informal, simplified spelling of light, used esp. in labeling or advertising commercial products: lite beer.”

Oh well, at least “rite” isn’t in there yet, except to describe a ceremonial ritual. So I guess I’m technically wrong on lite, but at least I’m right about rite.

To sum this up on a weird note, one of the most commonly misspelled words — other than “misspelled,” which really looks like it should have fewer S’s and L’s — is the word “weird” itself, which is commonly misspelled “wierd.” If you think that’s no big deal, it’s okay with me, but some people might think you are less intelligent. Or even WEIRD.

Just remember, it’s “I before E, except after C.” Except when sounding like A, as in “neighbor” or “weigh.” And for some reason the rule doesn’t apply to “weird.” See how EZ it is, Mark?

Very superstitious, writing’s on the wall,
Very superstitious, ladders ’bout to fall,
Thirteen month old baby, broke the lookin’ glass
Seven years of bad luck, the good things in your past.

When you believe in things that you don’t understand,
Then you suffer,
Superstition ain’t the way.

— “Superstition” by Stevie Wonder

You said it, Stevland. If you are superstitious, you are definitely weird, because it’s all a bunch of nonsense. Some less enlightened bloggers actually skip their 13th post because they think it will bring them bad luck, but not this blog.

Let’s examine some popular superstitions.

Common Superstitions

Friday the 13th

Many people believe that Friday the 13th is bad luck. Some apartments and hotels omit the 13th floor, and some airlines fly without a 13th row. It’s even rumored that Heidi Montag skipped her 13th plastic surgery.

The generally accepted theory on the origin of this one is that Judas was the 13th guest at the Last Supper and that Christ was crucified on a Friday. So only Christians need to worry about this one; Jews and Muslims can relax and go about their business on Friday the 13th. And apparently Christians really need to think before the next time they say, “TGIF!”

Walking Under a Ladder

The triangle shape of the ladder against a wall is the issue here. Anyone who has taken high school geometry knows that evil spirits live in triangles, and you awaken evil spirits when you walk through the triangle shape. If you do accidentally walk under a ladder, you can counter the bad luck by crossing your fingers, or by reciting the Pythagorean theorem.

This one would seem to make sense for practical reasons. If you walk under a ladder, the person working on the ladder might drop something. You could get hit in the head with tools, building materials, lunch wrappers, discarded chewing gum, cigarette butts, and even spit.

Breaking a Mirror

Break a mirror and according to legend it’s seven years bad luck. In the past, a mirror was believed to be a reflection of the soul, so breaking a mirror created a broken soul. If you break a mirror, you can avoid the bad luck by taking the pieces outside and burying them under a full moon.

Of course, this would only apply to people who actually have souls, so you don’t have to worry about this one if you’re a Wall Street CEO, an attorney, a politician, or an oil company executive.

Rubbing a Good Luck Charm

There’s the old reliable rabbit’s foot, gemstones, figurines of Buddha and other deities, and various other symbols, amulets, and charms that superstitious people like to rub for good luck. But for some people, the phrase “rubbing the good luck charm” has other connotations. Just saying.

Moving on, here are a few less well known superstitions:

Less Common Superstitions

Monday the 13th

Here you have the bad luck of the number 13 combined with the absolutely worst day of the week. An excellent day to stay in bed.

Breaking a CFL

It’s bad luck to break a Compact Fluorescent Light-bulb because these types of bulbs contain mercury, which is a neurotoxin. In the body, mercury disrupts cellular function at all levels. It is more toxic than lead, cadmium, arsenic, and even Rush Limbaugh.

According to experts who work for CFL manufacturers but are completely impartial, CFLs contain very small amounts of mercury, so it probably won’t kill you right away. You don’t need a Hazmat team to clean up a broken CFL. You just need to  follow a simple 16-step cleaning procedure that involves evacuating and ventilating the room, using sticky tape to pick up all fragments and powder, and vacuuming or wiping with wet paper towels or wet wipes. Then you need to put all of your cleaning materials in a sealed bag or jar, and dispose of them in a government-approved disposal facility. I drive by those all the time.

Dropping Stuff from a Ladder

Dropping stuff from a ladder is not only bad luck, it’s also downright dangerous. Unless the object you drop is heavy enough to render someone unconscious, they’re probably going to be very angry. And since they’re right there under the ladder to begin with, they might just decide to push it out from under you. So if you’re going to drop something from a ladder, make sure it’s heavy, and try to aim for the head. Otherwise you could get hurt.

Breaking a Talking Mirror

If you break a talking mirror, not only do you get the seven years bad luck, but you’ve also murdered an imaginary sentient being. Which is bad enough to begin with, but this particular imaginary sentient being is licensed to the hilt by the Walt Disney Corporation, which maintains a worldwide legal team of 350 lawyers. And they want to talk to you.

In conclusion, I guess there’s no real harm done if you  perpetuate some of these irrational beliefs. It just means you’re a little superstitious, and also a little WEIRD. All I can say is that I’ve broken mirrors, spilled salt, walked under ladders, and even opened umbrellas indoors, and nothing bad has ever happened to me as a result. I usually have a good day on Friday the 13th. And now I’ve made it all the way through blog post #13, and nothing bad has happened to me. Knock on wood.

And he said: “Son, this world is rough
And if a man’s gonna make it, he’s gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn’t be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you’d have to get tough or die
And it’s the name that helped to make you strong.”

He said: “Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn’t blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I’m the son-of-a-bitch that named you “Sue.’”

— “A Boy Named Sue” by Johnny Cash

As the song goes, life isn’t easy for a boy named “Sue,” but it’s probably not going to be a bed of roses for “Pilot Inspektor,” “Moxie CrimeFighter,” or “Fifi Trixibell,” either. Celebrities do some weird things, and one of the weirdest is the names some of them give their children. For example:

Weird Celebrity Baby Names

• Aanisah – Macy Gray (also mother to Tahmel)
• Apple – Chris Martin and Gwyneth Paltrow
• Astrella Celeste – Donoyvan and Linda Lawrence (also parents to Oriole Nebula)
• Atherton Grace – Don Johnson and Kelley Phleger
• Audio Science – Shannyn Sossamon
• Aurelius Cy – Elle Macpherson and Arpad Busson
• Blue Angel – U2′s The Edge and Aislinn O’Sullivan
• Bluebell Madonna – Geri Halliwell
• Calico – Alice and Sheryl Cooper (also parents to Sonora Rose)
• Camera – Arthur Ashe and Jeanne Moutoussamy
• Destry – Steven Spielberg and Kate Capshaw
• Diezel Ky – Toni Braxton and Keri Lewis (also parents to Denim Cole)
• Fifi Trixibell – Bob Geldof and Paula Yates (also parents to Peaches and Pixie)
• Fuchsia – Sting and Frances Tomelty
• Gaia – Emma Thompson and Greg Wise
• Gulliver – Gary Oldman and Donya Fiorentino
• Heaven – Lil’ Mo (also mother to God’Iss Love Stone)
• Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily – Paula Yates and Michael Hutchence
• Hopper – Sean Penn and Robin Wright
• Ireland – Alec Baldwin and Kim Basinger
• Jaz – Steffi Graf and Andre Agassi
• Jazz Domino – Joe Strummer
• Jermajesty: Jermaine Jackson and Alejandra Genevieve Oaziaza (previously married to Jermaine’s brother Randy)
• Kal-El Coppola – Nicholas Cage (Kal-El is Superman’s original birth name)
• Kyd – David Duchovny and Tea Leoni
• Lark Song – Mia Farrow and André Previn
• Lennon – Liam Gallagher and Patsy Kensit
• Liberty – Ryan Giggs
• London Emilio – Slash
• Luna Coco Patricia – Frank Lampard and Elen Rive
• Marquise – 50 Cent
• Memphis Eve – Bono
• Moon Unit – Frank Zappa (also father to Dweezil and Diva Muffin)
• Moxie CrimeFighter – Penn Jillette (also father to Zolten)
• Ocean –Forest Whitaker (also father to Sonnet and True)
• Pilot Inspektor – Jason Lee and Beth Riesgraf
• Poppy Honey – Jamie and Jules Oliver (also parents to Daisy Boo)
• Prince Michael II, aka “Blanket” – Michael Jackson (referred to as “Blanket” to avoid confusion with his older brother, Prince Michael I)
• Rocket – Robert Rodriguez (also father to Racer, Rebel, and Rogue)
• Rufus Tiger – Roger Taylor (also father to Tiger Lily and Lola Daisy)
• Saffron Sahara – Simon and Yasmin Le Bon (also parents to Amber Rose and Tallulah Pine)
• Sage Moonblood – Sylvester Stallone and Sasha Czack (also parents to Seargeoh)
• Satchel – Spike Lee and Tonya Lewis Lee
• Seven Sirius – Andre Benjamin and Erykah Badu
• Shiloh Nouvel – Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie
• Sosie – Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick
• Sunday Rose – Keith Urban and Nicole Kidman
• Suri –  Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes
• Tallulah – Bruce Willis and Demi Moore (also parents to Scout and Rumer)
• Tu Morrow – Rob Morrow
• Willow Camille Reign – Will Smith and Jada Pinkett-Smith
• Zola Ivy – Eddie Murphy and Nicole Mitchell

All of which leads to the question: WHY? You don’t get enough attention already? You’re an important “artist,” and you’re uber-creative every day in every way, so your kid can’t have a remotely normal name, like the rest of us unenlightened peasants? Apparently fame can really mess up your head.

Unfortunately, now that these celebrity trend-setters have modeled this new form of weird behavior, a certain segment of the population will undoubtedly feel compelled to come up with their own questionable baby names…so they, too can be cool.

But if you’re determined to burden your offspring with a “creative” moniker that they’ll have to deal with the rest of their lives, you might as well go all out. If celebrities can give their kids weird names, why not give your kid a really weird name? Here are a few suggestions, each based on a common theme:

Animals

• Annaconda
• Jorilla
• Bobster
• Mattypus
• Jimpanzee
• Katiepillar
• Leemur
• Billdebeest
• Tombat

Medications

• Annbien
• Besstrogen
• Jennadryl
• Jackitracin
• Jethromax
• Jimitrex
• Kirkocet
• Leopectate
• Rexcedrin
• Rexlax
• Roxycontin
• Tammyflu
• Timoxidil
• Zolaf

Sexually Transmitted Diseases

• Pamydia
• Johnorrhea
• Herbes
• Jeffatitis
• SyPhyllis

If you’re determined to give your child a weird name, that should get you started. Feel free to use any of these names for your baby, but please don’t tell little Jimpanzee or Jennadryl where you got the idea. I don’t need someone looking for me in a bar in Gatlinburg twenty years from now.

To begin with, have you ever taken a close look at the liquid in the gas station squeegee holder? It’s that sickening grey-brown-purple(?) color you get when all the colors have mixed together in a watercolor rinse cup, or when you leave Froot Loops in the milk for several hours (kids: go ahead and try this at home). What exactly is this mystery fluid? Do they ever clean it? Does the EPA know about it? Do you really want to wash your car with it?

The other day I was at a gas station waiting for an inspection sticker. A woman pulled in and filled up her car with gas, then she grabbed the squeegee and used it to clean her windshield. And then her back window. And then her side windows. And then her side mirrors. So far, so good. You need to be able to see where you’re going and what’s coming at you. You go, girl.

But then she went on to squeegee-clean the front quarter panels, the front doors, the back doors, and the rear quarter panels. This required 1-2 trips back to the squeegee-holder-bucket-thingy to re-wet the sponge for each section of the car. For some reason she didn’t do the roof, the hood, the top of the trunk, or the bumpers. Maybe she was getting too cold at that point.

Luckily for her, no one was in line waiting to buy gas while she spent 10 minutes washing her car with the squeegee. I’m guessing that if you try this type of thing with someone waiting in line behind you, you’re probably going to start to hear about it shortly after you finish with the glass and move onto the body. Maybe even before you finish the glass, depending on who’s behind you and what kind of day they’re having. Most of us draw the line at the windshield and rear window. It certainly seems like the potential is there for things to get ugly.

So in the interest of public safety, and to conform with generally accepted gas station etiquette, you should probably try to adhere to the following squeegee guidelines.

If someone is in line behind you waiting to buy gas, please just squeegee the glass and move it on out. But if there’s no one in line behind you, and the gas station owner doesn’t start yelling at you, and you don’t mind washing you car with toxic Love Canal water, please feel free to go to town with the squeegee. You’ll definitely be doing something WEIRD, but you won’t be causing any real harm, other than to your car’s finish.  But try not to get any of that stuff on your skin.

Ink-stained wench

A significant percentage of us guys think that tattoos detract from a woman’s looks. When we see an attractive woman with tattoos, we are repelled rather than intrigued. Our reaction does not involve an appreciation of the artistic merits of the skin illustrations, or curiosity about what wanton personality traits the tattoos might indicate. Our reaction is more along the lines of, “Oh, that’s a shame…someone drew stuff all over her…she’s permanently stained.”

Oh, the humanity!

Take Angelina Jolie, for example. A beautiful woman, but she has weird stuff tattooed all over her body. But at least she’s left her cleavage alone. So far…

Tattoos on an arm or a leg? Not so bad; I can usually pretty much ignore those. Tattoos on the lower back, just above the butt crack? Sorry, that kind of grosses me out.

But on the cleavage? Tattoos on the cleavage?  What in God’s name are you thinking? Ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters, this is sacred ground. Breasts are precious natural treasures. You simply do not draw stuff on precious natural treasures. It’s like spray painting graffiti on the Grand Canyon.

Why mess with a good thing?

Cleavage is naturally beautiful and perfect in its natural, unadorned state. There is no need to attempt to improve on perfection. Ask any man, and a certain percentage of women. We are drawn to cleavage like moths to a flame. If you put a television set right next to a display of cleavage, we would watch the cleavage…unless there was a television show on that featured lots of cleavage, in which case our eyes would tend to dart back and forth.

So there is absolutely no need to tattoo your cleavage. For the love of God, leave it be! It’s perfectly fine the way it is. If you tattoo your cleavage you will ruin it for everyone, or at least everyone who thinks like me. And if you then proceed to prominently display your tattooed cleavage, you will also be officially WEIRD. But feel free to keep that regular cleavage coming…

Then you get out there and spastically flail away for a few hours, sweating like a pig in the hot sun, lying about your score, swearing and throwing your golf clubs as you drive the ball into the rough, into traps, into the trees, into other golfers, and maybe eventually into a little hole in the ground. To quote Major Clipton at the conclusion of The Bridge on the River Kwai: “Madness! Madness!”

But watching golf on television? You have to get home to watch golf on television? Now that, my friend, is weird.

You have to get home to watch a large group of people watch a much smaller group of people walk around and hit little balls with sticks? To watch golf balls flying through the air, and then watch instant replays of the same balls flying through the air? To listen to long, boring discussions about the golf course, the types of grass used on the golf course, the types of clubs used depending on the particular situation, the relative humidity, or the amount of goose poop on the fairway? To watch the spectators do weird little golf claps, emit strange “oohs” and “aahs,” and shout sketchy things like, “Get in there!“?

Even if you’re weird enough to play golf to begin with, at least you’re outside doing something, as opposed to sitting on your backside in front of the television all afternoon.

And watching golf on TV is spectacularly boring! Could anything possibly be more boring to watch than a televised golf tournament? The commercials are more interesting than the golf. If they’re televising golf, why not televise other incredibly boring activities? New, this fall:

• Guys Paint my House
• Fish Tank!
  
• Professional Knitting
• Cloud Watchers
  
• Nursing Home Rec Rooms
  
• Vacuuming!

You might just as well televise nose-picking:

Announcer: We’re here at the 44th annual Nose Am tournament speaking with three-time Nose-Masters champion Bill Picker. Bill, I noticed you decided to go with your pinkie on the second hole…

Picker: That’s right.

Announcer: Can you tell us why?

Picker: Well, on this hole I was dealing with a tough little booger that was stuck in the rough way up the nostril. I usually prefer the index finger on the second hole, but I could tell that wasn’t the way to go this time.

Announcer: So that’s when you switched to the pinkie.

Picker: Yep.

Announcer: And then you put it in your nostril.

Picker: Uh-huh.

Announcer: Can you tell the folks watching at home what happened next, even though they just watched it a couple of minutes ago?

Picker: Well Sir, I snagged that booger on the first try!

Announcer: A hole-in-one! Spectacular! What’s your secret?

Picker: Well, there are a couple of things…

Announcer: Yes?

Picker: Grow your fingernails long.

Announcer: And?

Picker: Two words: dry fingers.

Well, I’m off to film a couple of pilots to pitch to the networks. And I like my chances, because apparently the bar is set very low, my friends, very low.

If you like watching golf on television, please feel free to continue. At the very least it indicates that you are easily amused, and you may perhaps be somewhat brain-dead. And it definitely classifies you as WEIRD.

But please keep watching your TV listings for my new show: Turtle Ranchers!