But with such a unique concept as “Words For Your Enjoyment” could you really expect it to go the way of the dinosaurs? WFYE could be trapped under a flipped semi truck on an abandoned dirt highway so far away from civilization that most people would just give up if they found themselves in that situation — but WFYE wouldn’t. WFYE could be hanging off an embankment, teetering on the edge, but it would so hang on.

Which brings us today’s WFYE subject matter and singer Kim Wilde.

Old school WFME reader and on-again/off-again blogger Katheleen writes: “Where is Kim Wilde these days? Do you think she’s still hanging on?”

First and foremost, let me just give Kathleen what she hungers for. The 411. Kim Wilde is indeed still out there. And she is still hanging on, and is still touring and is still releasing music (albeit only on the iTunes Store in Germany).

She’s also gotten plastic surgery to every part of her face except for her forehead and chin (which are, thankfully — still hanging on). Go ahead, search the web. You’ll see that anywhere you look there are no pictures of Kim Wilde’s forehead or chin. It’s a mystery, but not nearly as salacious as what’s going on in Wilde’s personal life.

Seemingly, in addition to continuing to hang on, it appears that Wilde has also found herself in yet another problematic relationship — with Germany’s own business mogul Hanz Frazier. In doing some research, I came up with a bit of an interview that Spiegel Online had done with Wilde’s current “abusive boyfriend” (says Wilde, but not confirmed anywhere in print), Frazier. Here’s a clip of that:

Frazier, it seems, has no trouble talking about his businesses in Berlin — where a majority of his assets still remain. But when pressed on the subject matter of his controversial relationship with 80′s singing diva Wilde, he immediately grows quiet. He denies any wrongdoing, any abuse and any ill will. In fact, while Wilde still claims to be involved in the high-profile relationship, Frazier has a different take. “Kim is a talented singer and a wonderful person. But our relationship reached a point where it wasn’t healthy to continue. So I told her, ‘I’m going to set you free, babe’ and got out of her life so she didn’t see me a-comin’ around.” But when asked about whether or not he was over Wilde, Frazier said simply this: “I didn’t want to play with her heart, so I told her I was getting out of her life. You know, so she could make a brand new start and let me get over her. I just wanted to set her free.”

But honestly, as most fans of Kim Wilde know — she’s a go-getter. She’s (like WFYE) the kind of person who might disappear for awhile then crop back up stronger than ever. I did a little searching on Google and found an interview with Wilde from AOL’s music section, in which she talked about her musical comeback:

“This new album, is like a brand new start for me. For awhile, I was struggling with the new album, it wasn’t allowing me to sleep at night. I mean, I really didn’t love the songs — they weren’t setting my heart and soul free like I wanted. I needed freedom. I wanted to still care about the process. So I stopped hanging onto the old mentality, and went for a brand new start. It really set me free.”

The album and new single “Perfect Girl” (an obvious reference to her attempts at appearing younger through plastic surgery that doesn’t involve her forehead or chin) came out last Winter and now she’s touring the World. Of course, all that information can be found at her Official Site. That is, except for any real reviews of the song or new CD.

That being said, I put out an e-mail to her management in an attempt to find out if there was a review copy available at this late date so that WFYE could add some pertinent “review text” here on the site. Unfortunately, all I got was a rejection e-mail from her management:

“Thanks for your interest in Kim Wilde. Unfortunately, since the CD came out last Winter, we don’t have the freedom to provide you with a copy (per Kim’s mandate). While you may need to see it and may continue to hang on in hopes of obtaining a review copy, we suggest iTunes as an alternative. That being said, please remember that Kim Wilde still wants to be friends (even if you don’t see how you can still be friends), and that while as her management there ain’t much we can do about it, we hope that Kim’s decision doesn’t break your heart and that you can still sleep at night.”

That being said, I do think that Kim’s still hangin’ on.

nemesai: noun, plural of nemesis.

When I grew up on Long Island in New York State as a small child, I was teased and tormented by a group of children who I now refer to as my nemesai — tough as nails malcontents whose only reason for living involved the teasing, fighting and psychological hammering of those around them. At the time, I never thought my evil tormenters would ever be brought to justice. Until today.

And now it’s your turn to be a part of it as well.

It’s not often someone gets an opportunity to confront their nemesai. Usually, before the Internet, you had to hire a private investigator to track down said nemesai so that you could hover outside their crappy little trailer house on the end of Route 12 at three in the morning until they got home from that job at the docks so you could punch them in the face after years of expensive karate classes.

But today — there’s the Internet!

So I would like to take the opportunity in today’s “Words For Your Enjoyment” to allow all my readers the opportunity to call out (by name) those who tormented them in elementary school, junior high, high school, college, or even at an afterschool job. I urge each and every one of you to put their full names out here, let us know how horrible they were, and using the wondrous Google Page Rank that WFME possesses — any of them searching their name will most likely bring them here.

For my part, I would like to call out the following childhood bullies:

Jon Donnis: My next door neighbor. A little malcontent whose inability to grow tall caused him to lash out at those around him. On one particular day I asked to borrow ten cents from him in the lunch line so I could get milk and he launched into a tirade reminiscent of the “I’m Funny, How?” Joe Pesci speech in Goodfellas. “You need ten cents for what!? What, am I a bank!? I’m your little piggy bank!?” For some reason, the trauma convinced me that I then needed to give the kid ten cents back later that day — at which point sad little Pauly D knocked on his door and John Donnis slapped the ten cents out of my hand, yelling into my face and causing said referenced “me” to run home all teary eyed.

Mikey Miller: Lived at the end of the street. Any time you’d walk past his house and other kids were outside, he’d get urged by the others to start a fight with me. Every time I walked past him, a fist fight ensued. He, too, was a horrible little toe-headed kid who had no mind of his own, and solved everything with violence. Pu-taw! I spit on you, Mikey Miller.

Jonathan Goldberg: Also lived at the end of the street where all the kids hung out waiting for the bus to arrive for school in the morning. Convinced me to take my elaborate collection of baseball cards and throw them up into the air to a crowd of kids who clamored for the cards on the street. He explained to me, of course, in a perfect extortionist way that if by keeping kids busy chasing baseball cards (that would someday be worth thousands) it would probably keep fights from happening.

So, greetings to Jon Donnis, Mikey Miller and Jonathan Goldberg when/if you arrive here at WFME. I hope all your childhood tormentings affected you later in life in a kind-of karma-esque way. I hope someone looking up your name for references in a new job finds out just how unbalanced of a child you actually were.

Oh, and happy Friday!

So — what were the full names of the kids who bullied you? Let’s string ‘em up!

Fridays used to be glorious until I found out that the ancient origins of the word “Friday” happens to be “Fry-day” as in “day that innocent people were burnt as offerings to the gods.”

Now I spit on you, Friday.

But since I never had anything to do with public burnings and since I don’t plan on getting involved in public burnings anytime soon (at least not until the Officially Sponsored Armageddon) — I have decided to reinstate WFME’s wonderful “Words For Your Enjoyment.” That’s where you supply the idea, I write it, and we all forget about the witch trials and the drownings and yes…the burnings.

And this week — things just happen to get even more exciting.

Longtime reader, commenter and hang-gliding teacher Susan writes:

“Your life is reportedly very exciting, what with the bread bowls and celebrity sightings and all. Whose life is more exciting than yours? Really, whose? Let’s say you had your own stalker, (not me, I’m way too lazy and busy really watching real football) what surprising things might they find out about you?”

Well, Susan — isn’t that a very stalker-esque question.

At first when I read Susan’s suggestion/information retrieval ruse, I was concerned. For what if I were to provide a list of the Pauly D “surprising details of his life” (copyright 2007) only to find out that Susan was, in fact, a stalker in the first place. It was like that scene right out of The Princess Bride where our fearless hero had to decide which cup had the poison in it — and here I sat staring at the poison in a cup, except the poison was an e-mail asking about details of my life and the cup was the e-mail box that said e-mail had arrived in, even though the cup was a physical item and the e-mail box was more of a digital, figurative item…

Well, you get where I’m coming from.

Then I decided, you know what? Susan technically asked me TWO questions and since I’m really good at avoiding most questions I don’t want to answer I would instead focus on the question, “Whose life is more exciting than yours?” But quickly, as I focused on the question, the list of people whose lives were more exciting than mine just grew and grew and grew. Names like Vice President Cheyney and Carrot Top filled my head and the depression and despair grew and grew like a festering growth on ones’ toe that could only be destroyed by WFME’s beloved Lamisil. So instead, I decided to tweak Susan’s question and tell you exactly whose life is less exciting than mine.

And that person just happens to be…Paula Abdul.

If you were to compare me and Paula Abdul back in the 90′s, Paula Abdul would probably have had a more exciting life than I. While I was drinking myself into oblivion in a collegiate atmosphere, she was choreographing awesome music videos and classic scenes like the piano sequence in Big and the Cuba Gooding, Jr. touchdown dance in Jerry Maguire. While I was passed out and people were writing horrible things on my forehead in black ink, she was just getting going on her glorious DVD cheerleading/fitness/dance DVD series called Cardio Cheer, which incidentally was marketed to children and teenage girls involved with cheerleading and dance.

But then came Paula Abdul’s dark times…and my life far exceeded hers on the excite-o-meter.

Between 1995 and 2000, although Abdul released a mediocre CD — she pretty much disappeared off the entire face of the Earth and yours truly began producing and co-hosting his classic West Coast cable show/cultural sensation the 27th Hour — which included groundbreaking interviews with bigtime bands like No Doubt, as well as hilarious interviews with people obsessed with Star Trek. Paula Abdul disappeared into obscurity while yours truly excelled to the exciting extreme.

Paula’s romantic relationships partnered her with actor John Stamos, talk show Arsenio Hall, actor/director Emilio Esevez, clothing manufacturer Brad Beckerman, professional golfer Hank Kuehne, and millionaire Colton Melby. Pauly D was linked with that girl who thought he had an English Accent, that other girl who was the cheerleader at the local college and who thought New Jersey was it’s own country, that girl who had a fake leg but kept it so secret that it took Paul five dates before he realized, that other girl who smelled like almonds, and that other girl obsessed with Jon Bon Jovi so much so that he would eventually lose a girl to a 2-dimensional glossy poster.

Paula Abdul – 1, Pauly D – 23.

Today, Paula Abdul can be found doing interviews on National Television while obviously drunk or under the influence of prescription drugs. And me? Well, I’m doing sober, superior interviews on National Television.

She might be a judge on TV’s American Idol — but I watch the show religiously.

It’s really no question in my mind, in answering the opposite of Susan’s question, whose life is less exciting than mine. And in this case, that less exciting life is being led by none other than Paula Abdul.

I hope this clears everything up.

Now that you’re here, make yourself at home. Kick your feet up. But your head back. Grab a cola or a diet cola or one of those freak-of-nature diet colas without caffeine. Look back fondly on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday and wonder where all the time went. And come here for yet another edition of “Words For Your Enjoyment” — where you supply the idea, we use it, and the Iraq war ends because of it.

And today, my friends, is so different you won’t want to miss it.

WFME maurauding reader Merel writes: “I want to ask whether this week for Words For Your Enjoyment, could you write a post that has no topic? I reckon you should be able to manage that!!!”

Alas, Merel — it’s time I admit to something that I consider to be one of my biggest personality flaws. That flaw, it seems, is that no matter what I write, talk about or communicate via smoke signal — I am always talking about something. That no matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I squint my eyes and clench my jaw — something always comes out of my head. That sadly, even though you heap tons of confidence my way in feeling confident in my skills to write about absolutely nothing — it’s something I don’t think I have ever been capable of.

I can’t write nothing to save my life.

In fact, when I’ve often strived to write that “nothing post” for the sake of being clever, it’s always blown up in my face. In fact, over the course of the last three years, I attempted to write a post with zero topic and zero substance (without just posting a blank page) and ended up with posts that addressed things like:

• Eye twitching & the reluctant single man and how such twitching could potentially communicate the wrong emotion on a date where there’s no chemistry.
• The universe and it’s emptiness and how lonely and cold it makes me feel and how being cold makes me wish I had a fluffy bathrobe that felt nice that I didn’t have to steal from a hotel in order to get it.
• Coral, and why people think it falls under the category of “art”.
• The amount I’d write on a blank check from a billionaire, and what number wouldn’t make me look like a greedy sonuvabitch.
• The game of “Duck, Duck, Goose” and how the person who invented it probably had a slew of friends and family who thought it was the stupidest idea ever and that it would be awfully amusing to have the inventor alive today so he could see that, yes, the game of “Duck, Duck, Goose” is probably the stupidest idea ever.
• Zero: It has FOUR letters in it. Why can’t it have zero instead? Why couldn’t it just be ” “, without the quotes — just the empty space in between?
• How the answer to the question, “What’s wrong?” results in the answer “Nothing” more than 95% of the time, according to a double-blind survey I took part in with my family, by consistently seeming pissed and then having only one answer to supply upon being asked if anything was wrong.
• White: The Non-Color Color
• Hunting & Gathering: Learning how to use a spear in the naughts.
• Will a spider that not’s harming you, that you go out of your way to kill, somehow contact it’s brethren from the beyond in order to ensure revenge is enacted upon my house? Because it feels that way to me.

So, as you can see — there really is no possible way to write a post that has no topic. The lack of a topic becomes the topic. A lack of subject line, becomes the subject line. A post about nothing, becomes a hit television show on NBC, resulting in millions of dollars and racist bigots.

Like I said — nothing is always something.

—

[From the editor: I have officially gone insane. Not Merel. The repeating of a post (although different in content, somewhat) is a sign of more than just distraction. Apologies across the board. My mind is mush.]

Friday, Friday, Friday…

And yet today is more than just a regular old Friday. Today is also the first day of December, which makes today’s Friday a little more special than normal. Besides being the first Friday of the month, it’s also one of five Fridays we’ll experience before 2007. And since 2007 is a number that, when you add all the digits together, equals 9 — and then you subtract these upcoming 5 fridays from 9 and you get 4… And since 4 is the amount of performers in the classic band The Beatles (who wrote the song “8 Days A Week”) and since there was never 8 days in a week in this dimension…

Well, that makes for a really surprising and exciting “Words For Your Enjoyment!”

And if you’ve read this far, thus clicking on the adorable little “continuing words” link on the previous page, I must commend you for just, you know — going with it.

This week, long time WFME reader monkeyinabox writes: “So, Pauly D, what would you do for a dollar? Maybe that’s not enough cash to motivate anyone these days. What’s the limit on what’d your do for $10, for $100, for $1000, for $10,000, or for all of Mark Cubans cash he keeps in his sock drawer?”

Good question, Monk (which is what your nickname will be from this day forward).

In an attempt to shake things up a bit, instead of responding in typical rambling paragraph after rambling paragraph, I’ve decided instead to answer your question in a poem. In a rhyming poem. Because, let’s be honest — poems that rhyme, take up my time, I like lemon and lime — now don’t be sublime.

Oh, whatever. Here it is:

The question asked,
about a dollar,
what would you do,
speak up and hollah!

The white kind.

Glorious, glorious Friday.

More glorious than a sundae with a pool of caramel at its base. More exhilirating than inhaling two packets of Splenda right up ones’ nose. More giddy than a clown, with a red nose, with a shaved poodle, shoving itself into a phonebooth too small for even one oversized grandmother with shopping bags. More powerful than, well, absolutely any other day of the week according to recent studies performed by University psychology students in a double-blind survey.

It’s more better, people. It’s more better.

Today’s “Words For Your Enjoyment” suggestion hails from WFME longtime reader Kathleen who writes: “Can you write about how life would be better if we incorporated the “turn the page” chime from books of our childhood into our adult lives?”

Yes, Kat. Yes. I. Can.

As children, the turn the page “chime” was a wonderful road map to literary wonder. We’d open up a book, listen to the tape read the words on the page, and when it was time to go onto the next page, we’d hear that wonderfully understated chime. It was, for all intents and purposes, teaching us the ways of the world.

Well, at least some of us.

Today, us adults have almost collectively forgotten when to pause and when to forge ahead — turning moments in our lives into awkward, uncomfortable interactions that could easily be helped by such an ingenious system. Such a system could finally, once and for all, infuse manners and reduce embarrassment by giving us the adolescent helping hand we so fondly remember. Here’s just a few examples of how that could work:

On A Date
Let’s face it, ladies. Sometimes guys don’t read the signals right. You might be thinking “go go go” and they might be wondering if it’s okay to make a move. Sometimes it might frustrate you and often it keeps relationships from moving forward because of the miscommunication. But utilizing our new “turn the page” chime system, physical interactions could now be streamlined. For when your date walked you to your door at the end of the night and the two of you stood in that awkward moment of silence…chime it up!

• First chime: You are GO for goodnight kiss.
• Second chime: You really should come inside.
• Third chime: Yeah, let’s go into the bedroom.
• Fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh chimes: Use your imagination.

From a dating, physical interaction standpoint, the “turn the page” chime would work wonders in this scenario.

In A Job Interview
Always, awkward. Always too many pockets of silence. Something that could totally benefit from our brand-new ingenious system. Here, just take a look at how this might work:

Interviewer: “Go ahead, Mr. Davidson. Please, tell us a little about yourself.”
Me: “Well…I graduated from college in 1995…”
[Silence. And.....CHIME!]
Me: “Oh, well — and I was President of my local Cats in the Cradle Tourney Club…”
[More silence. Then another chime!]
Me: “And, I’m really really organized….um…. Do you have anything else you’d like to ask-”
[Chime!]
Me: “I’m proficient in Excel. So, there you go.”
[Chime!]
Me: Oh. Um. I’m really a people person.”

For the interviewer, the “turn the page” chime system would work wonders — allowing them to sit back and continue goading you into more information, while you’d never have to wonder if you had said enough. Miscommunication and lack of communication would be a thing of the past.

While Negotiating The Release of Hostages
If you’ve negotiated for the release of hostages in bank robberies, cruise-ship takeovers and prison breaks that turned awry, you know that sometimes the hostage takers aren’t too verbose. Many a time I’ve had conversations on the phone with such people and they hardly say a word. You just never know when to keep talking. Our “turn the page” chime system would be quite useful for the Intelligence & Law Enforcement Community in saving lives. Here:

Hostage Negotiator: “Okay, so we just want to ensure the safety of the hostages here… And we’re willing to do whatever it takes to do so… That includes getting you guys some food, we’re sure you’re hungry…”
[Silence. Then...chime!]
Hostage Negotiator: “Um…okay, we could probably also get you some DVD movies, too.”
[Chime!]
Hostage Negotiator: “And tickets to Bali.”
[Chime!]
Hostage Negotiator: “And a plane.”
[Chime!]
Hostage Negotiator: “With hookers.”
[Chime!]
Hostage Negotiator: “Jeez, um…and one of those American Airlines tickets so you can fly first class anywhere in the world for an entire year…”
[Chime!]
Hostage Negotiator: “And a phone call with Britney Spears.”
[Chime!]

Sure, the hostage-takers might walk away with a lot more schwag — but we’d save lives. And wouldn’t that be the most important reason for incoporating the “turn the page” chime system into such hot-button negotiating situations?

But the turn the page chime system would do wonders in many other areas of our lives. From knowing when to go to the bathroom, when to drive through intersections, how to navigate elaborate booby trap systems and when to flip your credit card up on the table during dinner….the turn the page chime system could eventually be controlled by Big Brother, integrating itself into our lives like it once did as children.

Sure, it’d be repetitive and annoying at times, but isn’t it all worth it if it saved us in the end?

It’s just too bad it wasn’t an idea I came up with myself.

That’s why today marks the 3rd WFME Reunion for all you readers out there. The ones who were here in the beginning (the upper class), the middleclassmen and the frosh readers. And while I didn’t send out any save the date cards months earlier, in the world of blogs, at least one day digital notice (i.e. yesterday’s mention in text) should have been received by everyone and anyone who traversed these hallowed WFME halls over the last few years.

I can only hope most of you are planning to attend the reunion being held in today’s comments section.

What have you been up to? Are you married now? Did you end up losing your job, living in a box, fathering some children and then becoming a multi-millionaire as you worked yourself back up the corporate ladder? Or has your life, since you left WFME behind, simply stayed the same? There’ll be some alcohol in the back to loosen you all up and some kick-ass music from back when we all hung around here (circa 2004-5) as well as that “one person” who makes a total fool of themselves (which today, won’t be me).

Don’t be shy. Let everyone know the 411.

This being the case, I would like to welcome you to yet another edition of “Words For Your Enjoyment” — where real people who really read this blog actually submit real e-mails to me via my real contact form and then I take said real ideas, sift through them in a realistic way, and then choose which one I really want to write about. Often, hilarity ensues. Other times, nothing much comes out of it at all.

Which is a perfect segue into today’s suggested topic.

New WFME vocalizing pal Merel writes: “I want to ask whether this week for Words For Your Enjoyment, could you write a post that has no topic? I reckon you should be able to manage that!!!”

Oh, Merel.

Writing a post that has no topic is sort of like writing a story that has no character. But even more complicated is that I can’t even write a post about having no topic because then what you’d have is a post about writing a post that has no topic and so in order to stray away from such a thing (and in an attempt to fulfill your wishes in writing a post that has no topic) I must periodically and without warning completely stop talking about writing a post without a topic and literally writing a post that has no coherent topic whatsoever.

And that’s why I don’t ride escalators — it’s the danger of having your feet getting caught in the wedge between the moving metallic stairs and the slick steel wall of the escalator. If you haven’t already gotten your shoe stuck and chopped up by doing such a thing then you’ll never want to put yourself in that position because it’s both dangerous, nervewracking and above all — completely painful.

Which ended up resulting in a churro sandwich: two churros flattened out with a meat cleaver, then filled in the middle with vanilla ice cream, cookie pieces and jelly beans. Although impossible to put on a stick or hold in your hands without getting crap dripping all over your body, still, it’s a churro sandwich! And if you’ve never heard of a churro sandwich you will amaze people not only because you’ve never heard of a churro sandwich but more importantly because you’ve now heard of a churro sandwich, they haven’t, and you’re smarter than them when it comes to sandwiches made out of churros.

But writing and counting words like this one “here” is the ninth word is a tough enterprise to overcome especially since by the time you count out a “word” and denote that it’s the twenty-ninth word you’re already counting past twenty-nine words since in order to count words and denote what number those words are you still have to create more words (which ups the count) to even “explain” that explain was the seventy-first word in the paragraph but there are way more than seventy-one words now involved. And did you know that if you can get a gig writing for a national magazine you can get paid at least $1-2 dollars a word and that means that the word “a”, “the” and “on” are all worth a dollar or two to you. And a dollar or two can get you a taco at Taco Bell. Which means, the words “a”, “the” and “on” represent bean burritos with sour cream if you so desire.

But I digress.

Because if I did have a knife and you had a knife too and you challenged me to a knife fight and there were no other people around and you thought that was a good idea because if one of us killed the other and there were witnesses we’d most probably end up in jail or arrested or something like that…I would tell you that I wouldn’t want to start the knife fight unless other people WERE around. Why? Because if I’m going to be a part of a knife fight (which I hardly ever do at all) and that means I’m probably going to suck at it anyway, I would hope people would see me involved in a knife fight so at least I could brag about being in a knife fight after the fact. Same goes for hang gliding, too. If I’m going to be involved in dangerous activities, I need people to see me doing them, so I can brag about them later from my hospital bed.

And that’s why the square root of cheeseburger is yeast.

Thank you.

That is why, for your enjoyment, I will be giving away a lock of my hair to the person with the most impassioned, poetic, humorous and witty comment on this post. If you can communicate in your words the immense joy a lock of my hair will bring you, your family, your neighbors and your post office buddy Hal — you could end up with your own personal hairy keepsake of yours truly, right in your personal mailbox. Then again, you might not want a lock of my hair but you find someone else’s impassioned plea for wanting a lock of my hair to be so inspirational that you might want to let me know that out of the goodness of your heart that you think they should receive part of my hair instead.

Either way, today I will give away a lock of my hair. (via Priority Mail)

But as long as Friday continues to exist and as long as you continue to exist and as long as I continue to exist, there’s a warm and fuzzy nature Friday’s got glowing around itself that makes me want to just scoop it up in both my arms, wrap it up in a sweatshirt and take it out for dinner at my favorite sushi restaurant. And as long as I feel that way about a day of the week, well, you should too.

Which has absolutely nothing to do with today’s subject matter.

What you may or may not know is that there’s a slew of people who read WFME via the RSS Feed. There’s also a smaller group who subscribe to the comments feed. It’s those people who truly have an idea of the kind of comments this site continues to get on posts that were once new, are no longer new, but appear to be the most popular posts of their kind.

And that is what I’d like to talk about today.

Out there in the impersonal internet, there are millions of us — constantly searching anonymously for the answers to the questions we’re too embarrassed to ask even our closest friends and family out of fear of looking silly. And it seems as if some of these deep dark secrets are bringing citizens of the world to WFME via our most popular posts. In fact, they’re only popular because they answer the questions of those desperate souls, seeking the light in the darkest of times.

[Insert ominous organ music here.]

Toe-Length: Or, You Got Freaky Long Toes Girlfriend: One of WFME’s all time popular posts, I discuss what it means if your second toe is bigger or longer than your first toe. Apparently, millions of people in our world worry about what this means, if they’re normal and if there are people out there like them as well.

Small Hands, Big Problem: It’s a virtual self-help group in the comments section of this post, which I wrote as a comic piece to describe my obsession with the fact that my hands might be too small. Apparently, the world is filled with men who feel their hands are smaller than their girlfriend’s hands, and this is a pyschological issue they can’t stop thinking about.

My Head Is Huge: Then, of course, there’s the section of the public who believe (instead of their hands being too small) that their heads are too big. Once again, if you are a part of this group and you’re looking for a support network, look no further. People have resorted to measuring the diameter of their heads and posting them here in an attempt to make sure they’re normal.

If I Was An Abercrombie & Fitch Model: Here, Abercrombie & Fitch models argue with people who believe the hiring practices of A&F are racist. And then people who hang out in mall food courts argue with people who don’t, because they’re A&F models. I just wanted to be a model, that was all — but it exploded into a grammatically incorrect debate about pretty people.

I Can’t Swallow Pills: Apparently, when people are at home attempting to swallow pills and they can’t swallow pills, they come to WFME to see if I know of a way to swallow pills. (I don’t.) But that doesn’t stop them from all coming here and commenting on the problems in their throat.

Hit Me In The Stomach As Hard As you Can Because I Can Take It: It saddens me that a post lampooning the idiots who tell you to hit them in the stomach as hard as you can because they can take it has become sullied by the small Internet faction who actually “get off” if you punch them in the stomach. Children, get your parents permission before you click on the above link.

Keebler Elf or Ooompa Loompa: This one continues to surprise me. Apparently, people consistently search Keelber Elf and Oompa Loompa in the same search window. I just wanted to know which one you’d rather be. For some reason, people want to be both.

Yes, thems are the populars.

These are the questions, that in the quiet times, people are searching out the answers for. These are the issues that plague their thoughts. And these are the posts that, in the darkest of times, bring light to the world.

[Insert same ominious organ music from above, here.]

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Oh, and in other news, I’m having a kid in December. Send some good, positive “you will still have a life in January” vibes if you can.

And in additionally other exciting news, I must announce that I was recently plucked from obscurity by a major television network to create and write a brand-new TV pilot. More details on that in the coming months…

Oh, and some really exciting news: that splinter I had in my left ankle for the last eleven years finally just fell out. Go figure. After all that time trying to pull it out and having no luck…it just FELL OUT. Karma, man. Karma.