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^Ah, he's just trying to drum up sales for TPR's new custom athletic supporters and cups.

I had a feeling that Blackpool might just be the highlight of the UK trip this June--these pictures are yet more evidence. Gotta love the Steeplechase and the uber cheesy Ghost Train.

From my cat, Angus McNasty: "Why, those bunnies look so sweet--and delicious!" Lucky that Angus lives in Virginia. Congrats on the new additions.

^ What you gonna do, when Polkamania puts the mazurka on you?!!

Looks like you could open your window and snag a passing train--cool. Thanks for the overheads of London--takes me back to when my brother and I rode the London Eye two years ago. That was one great vacation (have to post some of the pictures some day).

They've been serving pizza in ghe Festhaus for years, Wally, but the rib thing started last season, I think. But instead of waffle fries, like you get at the Smokehouse, the Festhaus gives you German potato salad. They also make a pretty good roast-turkey sandwich, in addition to their enormous corned-beef stack. God almighty, but I'm getting hungry.

^And now that you can get baby-back ribs at the Festhouse, why leave the place? Busch rib season begins in a few weeks . . . o-o-o-o-o . . .

Busch will probably be pretty cagey about the new attraction for a while, but I'm hoping for a dive machine, myself. Might just have to go on stake out (I live about fifteen minutes away).

I have a pretty bad one of me on PKD's Hurler, but I'm in the train all on my lonesome, and it would look so . . . sad and pathetic.

I think Shasta is just a West Coast thing. In this part of Virginia, we have Northern Neck Ginger Ale--pretty good stuff (even though Coca Cola owns them now).

^Pirates might be out of commission until June, I think (but don't quote me on that). Disney is doing an upgrade involving AAs taken from the upcoming movies (that is, Jack Sparrow and Barbossa), along with some other enhancements.

You have no idea who I am, but Happy Birthday. This greeting now places you under an immense financial obligation to me--I do hope you're up to it. Then again, you could place me under the same obligation on my birthday. Never mind.

Poor guy. I guess the drugs got him and "wham"!

^^Well, I guess "you gotta have faith," Louise.

The theatre in my hometown of Patterson, Calif., used to run a slideshow of cheesy Christmas greetings from local businesses in December: "Happy Holidays from Fink and Sons Plumbers!" "Feliz Navidad from Klein's Super Save!" Actually kind of liked that.

^^It's a dirty job, but somebody's gotta do it, eh?

^I found "The Twenty" to be particularly annoying as a title--a rather lame attempt to make this mass of commercials seem "cool." What cracked me up was when they interrupted "The Twenty" with even-more-obvious commercials: "We now interrupt our commercial presentation with this commercial presentation."

So, you've forked over your ten bucks for admission, ponied up another ten for popcorn and a drink, and settled into your seat for about twenty minutes of commercials--blurbs for TV shows, ads for big-box stores, and the obligatory CGI extravanganza where some dude fights a lava monster to become a U.S. Marine (boy, that basic training is tough). Then, after the fifteen minutes of previews, the picture finally starts--too bad that you've forgotten what you came to see. How do you feel about this? Are you OK with being bombarded with pleas to buy Coke, Sony products, or a new Toyota? Or do you just want to hurl all over the screen (or on the person in front of you with the ringing cell phone)? I'm not talking about previews of coming attractions here--but commercials ranging from those that masquerade as an "inside look" at a new TV show to blatant pleas for you to buy or join something. Here's your chance to sound off.

Well, there is an organization called "Jews for Jesus" . . .

Well, it's either this or Cruella de Ville . . .

^Get him a nice new menorah.

^Personally, I miss Winchell's Donuts. And Sunshine Donuts in San Luis Obispo once ruled! Oh, and thanks for the pictures, Soren.

Sigh . . . they'll let just anybody turn 34. Happy Birthday, Barry. See you in June.

Sorry to hear about Spike, Guy. I lost my old cat Joaquin right before Christmas 2004, and I'd had him for 14 years.

Cool. My one celebrity interaction was showing Mel Blanc where to find the men's room at the Cal Poly student union (and was that ever a long time ago).