It's not gonna happen, Charmaine.

Walking down Second Avenue today, here was the scene.

HE: shaven-head hipster-ish guy.

SHE: Was Marisa Tomei/Debi Mazar in another life.

SHE: Uh-huh.

HE: It's not gonna happen, Charmaine.

SHE: Uh-HUH.

HE: It's not gonna happen, Charmaine.

SHE: Oh, uh-HUH.

HE: I'm telling you what's gonna happen, and It's. Not. Gonna. HAPPEN. Charmaine!

(SHE makes the finger-loop "he's crazy" sign to the woman walking alongside her. I think this woman is Not Gonna Happen Charmaine's friend, until I realize she has earbuds in and is paying no attention. And walks faster. I walk around the pair.)

HE: Don't fight me with me on the street.

SHE: Oh, yeah.

HE: Because it's not gonna happen.

Vanishing

Thanks to a pair of Davids (mine, and another friend who is not only a performer but also a whiz of a programmer), the website for one of my shows is up.

Yay.

Return of Babies, Part II: The Sequel: Babies' Revenge

After my rant about baby-themed crap, I turn on the TV yesterday, and behold: Baby Looney Tunes.

I didn't even know this existed. Why am I surprised?

They were making a Mothers' Day card. Baby Daffy, Baby Tweety, Baby Sylvester, Baby Bugs, Baby Tasmanian Devil ... and Lola, whoever she is. All in diapers.

Ick. Bugs in a diaper. That's not right. (Now someone will find this page in a Google search when they are trying to find out what to do if you've got "bugs in a diaper." First thing to do: stop reading this page.)