If you watched tonight’s episode of How I Met Your Mother, you will be highly, highly amused by the extremely long, hysterically funny song on this site referenced in the episode (warning: audio loads automatically).

They had way, way, way too much fun creating that. It’s almost as long as the goddamn episode, but sweet lord, it’s awesome.

I finally gave up on a couple shows I’d watched every episode of earlier this year, Prison Break and Desperate Housewives.

While in DH‘s case I hear I may have given up right before the show creatively resurrected itself, this spoilery item indicates I checked out of Prison Break at the right time.

Because seriously? That’s the most implausible plot twist they’ve come up with, and this is a show that’s pretty much a maze of implausible plot twists.

Mom went to go visit the non-lapsed Catholic members of her side of the family for Easter, and came back with some fun news.

Father Michael McGivney, who founded the Knights of Columbus and was also my Great Great Grandmother’s brother (I think making him my Great Great Great Uncle) is now one step closer to sainthood. Next up: Beatification.

My dad joked when I was 13 that I was probably the only kid in my bat mitzvah class related to someone who might someday get declared a Catholic Saint.

Why is it that almost leaving work at 6:00, then getting stuck with an extra errand and not leaving until 6:30, is much more frustrating than just working straight through until 7:30 or 8?

Stupid dangling of a chance to sit in traffic earlier than usual…

Two things gave me nice little “Oh…fuck…” moments this weekend, but for once, luck was actually on my side.

First, I dropped my ATM card at Benihana’s. I’d gone for a friend’s birthday, and dropped my wallet as I was getting ready to leave.

I didn’t realize the debit card was gone until we got to the post-Benihana bar, and I went to pay for drinks and found a horrifyingly empty slot. I walked back, fearing I’d have to go through the colossal pain in the ass of canceling it and getting a new one.

Thankfully, they found it immediately. The card was gone for only 15 minutes, and my bank’s online system seems to indicate that nobody used it in the meantime to pay for their awesome teriyaki steak.

The second almost-oh-fuck came today. I decided to bike down to the beach, but I hadn’t used my bike in some time, so I decided to pump up the tires with my little cigarette-lighter-port powered pump from my car’s roadside assistance kit.

I didn’t turn the car all the way on, I just turned the key so the battery would power the pump. When I finished, I put the pump away and then rode down to the beach. A few miles down, I went to stop, lock my bike, and walk down to the water.

Except I didn’t have my keys. I suddenly realized, “Oh fuck, they’re still in the damn ignition. And the power is still on.” So of course, when I got back to my apartment, an hour and a half after turning on the car, the battery was dead. Part of me was just glad the car was actually still there.

Thankfully, again, I found one of my neighbors that I’m friends with and got him to give me a jump. After a quick drive around, I stopped for gas on the theory that if it didn’t start, at least at a gas station I’d have a better chance at another jump to get home.

Even more luckily, the car turned over like nothing had happened. The short time it took the battery to run down indicates I probably need a new one, but still. Better to have it work for another few weeks until my 120k overhaul (THAT should be a fun use of my economic stimulus check) than be totally stranded.

And that’s how my weekend seemed like it was doomed twice, but it turned out to be pretty much fine.

I worked two days last week. Mileage take? $58.08.

Maybe with all the runs I’ve been doing this week, I’ll actually manage to make up for the $150 in gas I’ve had to buy in the last 8 days since I took this job.

I have no Hamentashen on hand, so instead, enjoy “Jewno”:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQE045CkDpY&hl=en]

I already knew J.K. Simmons (the dad) was awesome, but the fact that he actually appeared in this raises my opinion of him even higher.

Courtesy Defamer.

A few years ago, Martin Landau drove past me at the In-N-Out burger.

Tonight, it was Cameron Diaz at the Roller Derby enjoying a Hot Dog on a Stick (they bring their catering truck to the games and make a mint off the hungry hungry hipsters). I have to admit, it was a bit strange.

Not the weirdest celebrity sighting ever, or the most random (she was there with a friend who’s directing a movie about Roller Derby), but still. Notable even in L.A. for its sheer oddity.

…to one of my favorite expletive phrases, fuck a duck.

Courtesy Dave Barry’s Blog.

Well, I cracked.

I had resisted taking a PA job for three months, since I didn’t want to take a minor step back professionally just because I didn’t want to sit around the house all day.

That resistance came crashing down yesterday when a friend emailed looking to replace herself, and I’ll be working on a pilot for the next few weeks to months starting tomorrow.

The pay is crap (as all PA pay is), but when you add in the mileage, it’s at least more than I’d be making sitting on my ass and collecting unemployment.

It will hopefully have the added benefit of the restoration of my sanity, which has recently been hanging by a frightfully thin thread after three months of unemployment.

The people seem cool, and luckily fairly okay with the idea that if I get a better offer, I’m going to take it. The transience of employment in pilot season actually works in my favor there.

The main downside is that the office is in frickin’ Santa Clarita, so that’s a nice little 70 mile daily round trip, before I even start doing runs. At least it means I’ll get a lot more mileage, since it’s way far from pretty much everything.

The people who sell me gas and change my oil are going to love this job.