The Washington Post has came up with a couple of doozies – the first being one of my personal favorite corrections of all time, which has already made its way around the internets a couple times for its sheer ridiculousness.

The second contains one of my favorite kicker quotes in a while:

“I’ve been on the job for more than two years here, and this is the first time I’ve seen a chicken stuffed with cocaine.”

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that there are probably guys who have been there significantly longer who also have never seen a chicken stuffed with cocaine.

Sadly, NBC has C&D’d every copy of my very favorite Thanksgiving video off the interwebs (the Sarah McLachlan/Ana Gasteyer duet “Basted in Blood,” which you can listen to here until the lawyers get to it).

This, however, is a great substitute. Sadly, the video quality is not great, but this entire sequence from Addams Family Values never fails to crack me up:

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!

If you would, I encourage you to buy it from this dude, because his commercial is fucking awesome.

via Gawker.

After a nice long bike ride (that boat is still there, by the way, just covered in graffiti), I came home and decided to watch a DVD of Oz that I have out from Netflix.

There’s a little CGI fly that flies in and out of the frame on the episode selection menu. Chaplin hopped up next to the TV, and hilarity ensued:

He’d been doing this for a couple of minutes already before I managed to think, “I should record this,” so I apologize for my complete inability to stop laughing at him.

But man, that was funny.

But when it does, Conan O’Brien shows a pretty close approximation of what happens next:

Hat tip: LAist.

One that I’ve been saving for a while because it so defines the existence of the unemployed person, courtesy of Garfield Minus Garfield:

And one that was recently reposted by The Onion, Unemployed Man Getting Really Good At Unemployment:

Through a months-long process of trial and error, Higby has learned the tricks of the unemployment trade.

“Leaving the house every single day is very important, even if it’s just to spend a few hours at the coffee shop organizing the MP3 files on your laptop,” Higby said. “I try to be out the door by 2 or 3 in the afternoon—no exceptions. You have to get out and do something during the day in order to not feel guilty about going out drinking that night.”

I thought for a bit about what the hell I was going to do with the gigantic goddamn lemon, and finally, I figured I might as well just keep going with the literal theme of the day:

Yep, I made lemonade. An absolutely ridiculous amount of lemonade from one lemon, in fact. Normally to make this amount of lemonade you’d need about seven or eight normal sized lemons.

It’s actually pretty tasty, though we’ll see how well it holds up after spending some time in the fridge.

This monstrosity has been hanging from the lemon tree in my apartment complex for the last few months. Today, just as I was heading past it to go to the gym, it fell off the tree, right next to me.

Given everything that’s been going on lately, I had to laugh. Life has now taken to literally giving me lemons. Guess it’s time to break out the sugar and make some lemonade.

I was on my bike, sitting in the left-turn lane on my way back from the gym this afternoon when a guy in a brand new red Mini convertible flicked his lit cigarette onto the ground right in front of me.

I was about to express my displeasure with his action when a guy pulled up behind him in a black Audi S4, shouting, “It’s called an ashtray, dickface!”

I couldn’t have said it better myself. And thanks to him, I didn’t have to. Thank you, my anonymous, foulmouthed friend.