If Charlie Sheen tested negative for drugs after his whacked-out interview with ABC News the other day, then he is far more dangerous than anyone previously thought. And this is the same man who told NBC News that he’s bent on getting his twin sons back where they belong, and that he definitely intends it to be soon (with a wink and a blown kiss to the boys at the end of this interview).

His nutball quotes and trippy non sequiturs have gone viral. If they weren’t caused by drugs, then what? Does the media think this is funny? The man’s lost the one and only explanation that could remotely justify the sensational “fire-breathing fists” and tedious “winning” comments. Being strung out on “seven gram rocks” will at least give a partial reason for the insanity. Now, the only reason is, well, insanity.

Of course, I don’t know all the details from all sides of this circus, so I won’t comment on what I think needs to be done. I’m just saying that Chuckles isn’t doing his case to get his children back one iota of good, boasting to all and sundry that he basically just fell off the cuckoo train.

And we think we have problems.

Oh, and speaking of craziness: rehearsal went pretty well last night. We’ll see what the other shoe decides to do.

Good thing I’ve been up since 4; lots of time to read. :-/

I don’t know why, but as kids, we loved to scare each other. Sitting around a campfire telling scary stories, sitting under a blanket with a flashlight while telling scary stories, and sitting in a circle at a Halloween party telling scary stories are all part of my past. Remember chanting I believe in Mary Worth in front of the mirror, then running out of the room shrieking? I do. And I think it scared me even more because I was the little hanger-on in a group made up of my older sister and her friends. Crazy times, I tell ya.

Notice the city and state in the fine print? Well now.

We were never allowed to own one of these, but believe it or not, Parker Brothers manufactured Ouija boards from 1966 – 1999. [The creepy slogan, “It’s only a game — isn’t it?“, is honestly quite clever.] I can’t remember who had one, but I sat next to someone and watched him/her play once. The player moves a planchette around the board after asking questions, supposedly guided by the “oracle.” Questions are answered yes or no, or they are spelled out letter by letter.

“Ouija,” arguably taken from the combined French and German words for “yes,” first appeared on the entertainment novelty scene in the late 1800s. The history of the game can be found at The Museum of Talking Boards website — home of the ooky planchette cursor.

All *very* important questions.

Of course, you can’t have a cool new naughty toy without some puffed up Poindexter throwing cold water on everyone’s fun. From flat-out calling the Ouija boards satanic tools to yammering about the ideomotor effect, naysayers labeled the game — and anything claiming to have the slightest connection to divination — a hoax.

Well yeah, but…what about Jumanji? How cool was that?

Can you see Hasbro hawking Ouija boards nowadays, when everything’s supposed to be happy and cute and super-positive, and nobody ever shoots the bad guy anymore? Big fat chance.

Did you ever play with a Ouija board, or play the Jumanji game? What creepy stories can you share?

I daresay it already has. Good thing I’m between shows at the moment. Not sure what I’ll do when I don’t have an hour or two every night to scout out what’s available on Netflix. The streaming option is a dandy, although they need to step it up juuuuuust a bit on the offerings. Still, I’ve watched some great stuff on the streaming list, and I don’t mind waiting for the DVDs to arrive.

For those not hep to the Netflix savvy, the service allows you to check out DVDs with no return date and no penalty fees. (They just won’t send another one until you return the one you have.) All your movies/TV shows are listed and tracked in your queue. Mine looks like this:

I’m loving The Tudors. As some of you know, I enjoy historical aspects of the British monarchy, especially the period during the Renaissance. I even did a silly, yet mildly interesting post on Henry VIII a couple years ago. (Do you believe I’m talking about this blog in terms of  “years?” Yumpin’ Yiminy.)

Anyway. When you’re done watching your DVD, you drop it in the prepaid envelope that accompanies the disc, and as soon as they receive it at a local hub, they send out the next one in your queue. Ad infinitum. Love it.

I can watch on my desktop, netbook or laptop anytime, but what’s really neet is streaming the service through the TV: something that Finkite Rae’s boyfiend set up for us last week. (He’s a sweety.) We are really enjoying it. Right there, on the TV. Clicky, clicky. I feel like a big ol’ Jabba the Hutt. Pass me them chocolate bars and Jones potato chips and pigs-in-a-blanket.

I need a vacation. I don’t care that I’ve just had one; I want another one. I want the world. I want the whole world.

Sincerely,
Veruca Salt

You will become a bleary-eyed, sniveling, pathetic addict.

Like me.

I’ve never been a video game player. Never even held a controller on a Nintendo or PlayStation or XBox. Wouldn’t know Black Ops from a cyclops. But Angry Birds on my Droid..oh dear, it’s like an opium drip.

The other night, I played it instead of reading my Nook at bedtime. When I downloaded the update a few days ago, I played each night afterwards, at bedtime — and beat all 45 new levels to death. SCORE

I don’t have time for this, really. I’m using my heretofore precious nighttime reading slot to play this ridiculous game. The other day, after school, while I waited for a student’s parent to pick her up from rehearsal, I sat in my car and played it. I’m going mental.

But I can quit anytime I want.

Hey, it’s Finkday — yippity!