June 1999

June 1, 1999
It wasn't until last year that I realized the glove-like thing you put on your hand in the winter is called a "mitten" and not "mutton". All this time I have been wasting perfectly good strips of meat for my hands when I could have been enjoying lamb jerky with my new Ronco Food Dehydrator. However, nothing keeps your hands quite as warm as a large slab of lamb flesh wrapped about your appendage.

June 2, 1999
I'll admit it, I was bored with my morning routine, bored with eating the same breakfast every morning, but they don't call me "Mr. B old faithful" for nothing! Yes, I felt a bit guilty when I made the purchase at the store, but I tried not to think about it. And so it sat, hidden in the back of the cupboard for over a week... until this morning. It's true, I poured Aunt Jamima syrup on my pancakes and now Mrs. Butterworth is ticked!

June 3, 1999
You can't make me tell you how I got the carpet burn on my pancreas.

June 4, 1999
Life would be much better if we all wore pointy pants like the Oompa Loompas and spoke in rhyme.

June 5, 1999
I'm not too big of a man to admit that I wear pink velvet underpants to the office.

June 6, 1999
Today is the 1st Anniversary of The Daily Journal. Be sure to click here to read some of our favorite excerpts from the past year. Once you've finished reading that, we invite you to smash your head repeatedly with a blunt object in honor of our special day!

June 7, 1999
You learn a lot about your friends when you hire a deranged outcast to stalk them for a year. For instance, I learned that my pal Lou, is afraid of deranged outcast stalkers. Isn't that interesting?

June 8, 1999
If I had it all to do over again, if I could just go back in time and change things, if only I could alter the past and make things entirely different... I'm pretty sure I would have bought the striped boxers rather than the ones with the polka dots.

June 9, 1999
I wouldn't consider myself "paranoid" but I just know that the CIA is behind my insatiable appetite for Astro Pops.

June 10, 1999
Imagine, if you will, a world in which Barbara Walters is a sex symbol. Pretty scary, huh?

June 11, 1999
If I had to choose a way to die, it would involve three sultry brunettes, a truck load of muskmelons, fourteen sideshow freaks (any type will do), a can of beans, a marble bust of Tony Randall, underpants, and the 1987 Bernstein recording of Ives' Second Symphony. I didn't say you had to like it... it's my death so back off!

June 12, 1999
Ok, now imagine this...what would a night at the symphony be like if the instruments grew real hair? Can't you just see the neatly combed instruments? Oh, and I'm sure there'd be a few "anti-establishment" violas with their hair tied back in a pony tail. The violas are always showing off with their hair.

June 13, 1999
Admit it. You're still thinking about instruments with real live hair, aren't you?

June 14, 1999
Pressed to sum up my business success with just two words, it would have be "valium".

June 15, 1999
I just finished one of those books that's hard to put down, 37 Barely Legal Uses for a Jack-hammer by Abner Feldspar. Actually, I was already aware of nos. 1-28, but those last nine were pure genius and well worth the price of the book.

June 16, 1999
On June 16, 2003, the western world will finally be ready for free-range coleslaw. It's a Wednesday.

June 17, 1999
Those of you who pay any attention to the world of sports are probably already aware of this, but there is some spiritually alarming news coming from the National Hockey League (NHL). It seems that one of the star players for the Buffalo Sabres is none other than Satan! I kid you not. But wait, there's more. Satan also claims to be a "right winger". Imagine that. We were certain that Satan would have been from the more liberal left wing of the Democratic Party. The next thing you know, we'll be hearing that this "Satan" drives a mini-van. Isn't it just like Satan to fool you like that?

June 18, 1999
It's time for you Canadians to come clean. We know that you're reading The Daily Journal and we know that, on many occasions, some of you have been reading it in your underwear. We want to hear from YOU, Canada. So drop us a line and let us know who you are and what you think. While you're at it, tell us all about your grandparents and any annoying habits they may have. So, go ahead, DROP US A LINE TODAY!

June 19, 1999
We've been getting letters...

Dear Chuck:
The site looks great. I read it every day. But hey, how about some buttons?
--Ray in L.A.

Hey Lester:
Nice site. The anecdotes are amusing and oftentimes witty. Why are there no buttons? What gives?
--Corky L. Fritz (U.S. Virgin Islands)

Uh, Uncle Steve...
It's a nice site and all, but, did you forget the buttons? What up?
--Nephew Lewis (somewhere in Maine)

Well, I don't know what we were thinking. So, without any more delay, I GIVE YOU THE BUTTONS...

June 20, 1999
Here's a little tip for those of you working in the professional community. Do NOT--I repeat NOT--set your e-mail program so that it automatically signs all of your letters,

Eat Beans,


Sure, it seems like a good idea at the time, but it only ends up costing me my job.

June 21, 1999
I will never, ever understand the fascination that my Uncle Walter has with pork rinds. Nor will I ever understand the purpose that nipples serve on men.

June 22, 1999
Most of the kids in the old neighborhood referred to the flea-infested, belching, foul-mouthed, malnourished, alcoholic elderly man who lived under the bridge as "Geezer MacTroll". But I called him "daddy"...at least, when he wore his kilt.

June 23, 1999
Back on the farm, mom and dad were well known for their hospitality. Quite often folks would just show up from nowhere for a visit. One of the first things my folks would ask our guests is whether they'd like some homemade cheese. Well, how could you ever pass up such an opportunity? Inevitably, they would always give an approving nod which would quickly send mom and dad to the basement where they made the cheese by hand. Months later, they'd stammer up the stairs with a fresh wheel of gouda or sometimes provolone only to find that the guest had already left! I mean, how rude can you get?

June 24, 1999
My fear of marmots dates back to the late 1970's when my older brother used to throw our entire family of ferrets into the tub while I was taking a bath. I can't say that I didn't enjoy the tickling sensation the first few times he did it, but after a while, the bites, bleeding, infections, and the gangrenous smell of almonds began to take their toll. So I really don't feel as guilty about stealing his small intestines as he slept last night. In fact, he may find it really funny that I replaced them with a ferret.

June 25, 1999
I remember one time when I was in the seventh grade, having to stay behind at the cafeteria for some horrible offense. I sat alone at a round table, hearing the clang and clatter of the employees cleaning up after the daily feeding, their friendly chatter distracting me from my ominous sense of guilt. Then I smelled the distinct scent of sizzling dog steaks, Great Dane, I believe, as they prepared for the next days' lunch and... well, it really doesn't matter how I can tell the difference between a Great Dane steak and a broasting leg of Malamute and you've made me lose my train of thought so just forget you ever read this.

June 26, 1999
Now that I have FrontPage 2000 I've figured out how to make bigger and better buttons...

June 27, 1999
A guitar is like a woman... a very frigid, stiff woman who adorns herself with metal wires.

June 28, 1999
If I were a small, Oriental man, I'd be a lot shorter than I am now.

June 29, 1999
Sure, the Colonel can make chicken, but he can't sing like Mariah Carey!

June 30, 1999
It was a love story. A romance. A tale of rapture, of delight, of ecstacy. The saga that dreams are made of. And it all began in the Fall of '87 when I first saw Pauly Shore on an episode of "21 Jump Street."

We welcome your thoughts and barley...