When I was little and would go to Disneyland, my favorite part of Pirates of the Caribbean was the part where the animatronic men chase the animatronic women around in circles at the whorehouse, and then in the last room there was a big woman chasing around a man. I laughed and laughed. Why I laughed, only scholars of subconscious early gender socialization could tell you.

Anyway, the point is, I’m actually getting the fuck out of the country for the first time in five years (I don’t think Niagara Falls counts) and will be in St. Lucia for the next week and a half. A stereotypical Caribbean honeymoon hardly fits the 15-person Iron Man wedding reception, I know, but we thought maybe the first plan of Gary, Indiana would be taking that whole motif a little too far. (I’m kidding–the first plan was not a)reachable with frequent flier miles, nor b)the location of a very generous family friend’s vacation home.)

So now instead of going seven or eight days between posts, I’ll be going more like 10 or 11. But I’m pretty sure you’re ok with that.

I’m pretty sure I had something to say about my Iron Man wedding reception and/or my encounters this week with Anthony Edwards, Sting and Mayor Bloomberg, but then Aaron sent me this and I forget everything:

In order that you may plan accordingly, I’ll be turning the festivities over to Srah this year, as I’ll be indisposed* on Saturday, the traditional date of observance. Enjoy, my frisky biscuits!

*Yes that is the actual invite, and we may or may not be going to see “Iron Man” after dinner, by which I mean definitely are.

…AHAHAHAHAHAHA

Except actually that this encapsulates why everything anywhere that is wrong is wrong.

Today is National Day of Silence, to protest the bullying and silencing of LGBT youth. Naturally, the Empire State Building will be lit every night this weekend with lavender, pink and white to honor this important event.

Wait, what did you say? The Empire State Building will actually be lit lavendar, pink and white every night this weekend to reflect the motif of Mariah Carey’s new album, because the single “Touch My Body” broke Elvis Presley’s record for artist with most #1 hits? You’re kidding, right? You’re not? Oh. Ok then.

I guess this settles my curiosity about whether there’s a fifth horseman and what it might look like.

Driving back from DC last weekend, we saw this bumper sticker on the back of a truck:

Rather than an awkward horse enthusiasts’ slogan, I prefer to think of this as an absurd riff on the nonsense that is our universe. Other examples might include:

Forget it for your mother? Ta da!
Stir them on the haystack? My eye!
Poke it between the dingo? Congrats!
Mime you a lullaby? Think again!
Give him some glasses? Hold the phone!
Fold it like a zeppelin? What the deuce!
Create them for a montage? You should be so lucky!

I could go on, but I have work to do. Feel free to write your own? I bet it is!

What can I say, I was in the right place at the right time this weekend. Except for the idiotically wearing a Flash t-shirt part. And if none of this makes any impression on you, that’s probably ok.

So, Saturday morning, I’m lying in bed reading and the doorbell rings. We have a monthly exterminator that comes to our building, and we always pretend we’re not home because of Saturday morning lazies, but since Aaron was up I asked him if he’d grab the door. A minute later, I hear him talking to a couple of guys in the hallway, and I figure it’s something related to the building or some such. The conversation goes on and on and I can’t understand what they’re saying, but figure he’s handling it and it will be some annoyance that I’ll have to deal with later as condo association president. Then about 15 minutes into the conversation, there’s a moment of sound clarity and I hear Aaron emphatically say this:

“All of us are one big ocean, but each of us is a wave.”

Dude was proselytizing. To the Jehovah’s Witnesses who came to our door. For almost an hour. He tried to give them a book of zen teachings in exchange for their Watchtower, but they wouldn’t take it, naturally.

How hot is that?

This blew my mind into several pieces. This elephant is officially smarter than me. I. Whatever. Watch the whole thing if you can–it’s things like this that keep me on the wagon as a vegetarian, I tell you what. (Not that I ever ate elephant, but you know what I mean.)

This is kind of awesomely touching in its ridiculousness:

Who’s Bad, the world’s top Michael Jackson tribute band, is delighted with the news their musical inspiration won’t be losing his celebrated home. The group has dubbed its upcoming concerts the “Neverland Victory Tour” to celebrate Jackson managing to avoid foreclosure on his longtime Santa Ynez, CA, estate.

And then (emphasis mine):

The band had previously announced that the concerts would be dedicated to “saving Neverland,” and considered donating a portion of the proceeds to help Jackson avoid having the house taken away and auctioned by the court.

“We were ready to take up a collection for him,” says Tadepalli. “We especially wanted to help him keep the giraffes. We really felt sorry for the animals who were being uprooted from their environment.”

If there’s one lesson here, it’s this: don’t let anyone ever tell you that pop legend tribute artists don’t care about vertically robust antediluvian vegetarian mammals. Because they really do.