Though, to my knowledge, I did not step on a poptop

So, I returned a few days ago from the scary south. Well, not so scary, as I spent the entire time in the pleasant company of Commander Pop and Boop. They fed me, entertained me, drove me around, listened to me whinge and bitch, let me harass their cat. This generous hospitality I repaid by upending an entire box of Q-Tips into the bathtub then skipping town before they could notice.

We took in a movie, The Aristocrats, which went on my "must buy" list almost before the opening credits were over. Seriously never laughed that hard in my entire life. I highly recommend it to some people, and seriously warn off others. Like my mom. And your mom. Really, no one's mother should see this movie. Though it's essentially 120 of the same joke over and over, it never stops being funny. Or horribly offensive, for that matter. However, along the way you get some good insights into the nature of comedy and offense and why people think Gilbert Gottfried is funny. It was an educational experience all around: I learned a few new words (thanks Andy Dick!), that there is at least one entertaining mime in the world, and that Bob Saget should never, ever be allowed near children.

We followed that up with a trip to inexplicable local monuments and downtown Nashville. It was there, while walking down Broadway from the Ernest Tubbs Record Shop to Melting Pot Fondue Restaurant (it's a town of contradictions, that Nashville), that I realized a lifelong dream of living out a Jimmy Buffet song. Yes, dear friends a readers, I blew out a flip-flop.

A "Trying to Reason With Hurricane Season" joke would probably be very inappropriate, right?