My didge chops are excellent

We don’t really make novelty records like we used to, and I think that’s a real loss to society. Where is my generation’s Monster Mash?

Theme music for this newsletter         

I have a theory that the squarer the haircuts, the more punk the 60’s garage band music will be, and it still holds true here:

 

Pigeon Report        

I went on a trip to New Orleans recently, a welcome respite from weeks of frozen NYC winter (I heard…a rat…SCREAMING the other day by my house!?) where I put my body to the test. Specifically testing how much seafood I could consume in a 36 hour period and also how many tasty drinks I could consume in a 36 hour period. I’ll leave it to you to guess which I handled better.

New Orleans is so lovely, so charming, so it was truly stunning to not only see that pigeons live in the city but rather are WELCOMED. While visiting the Voodoo Museum, which is just three really fun rooms of mummified animal remains and the best museum descriptions I have ever read (“This is a zombie whip, called as much because it was used to whip zombies”) the lady working there, decided that in the middle of a crowded room, it seemed like a good time for her to feed some pigeons. She went outside and fed PRE-PACKAGED PIGEON FOOD to STREET pigeons. Did you know they even packaged food for pigeons? And no, I’m not talking about a package of ding dongs or beef jerky, which is what most NYC pigeons can be found eating on any given afternoon. This was food made for birds! And she told me it cost a lot too. 

So the only explanation I can think of is that pigeons have some sort of Voodoo power over the residents of New Orleans, and I fear for all citizens’ safety. Please, help them break free of this curse!!!

I searched “Voodoo pigeons” on Google, and I think this image proves everything I’ve ever believed about pigeons to be true:

Grade: F, the last thing a pigeon needs is Voodoo powers.

Are you okay? Checking in on my favorite d-listers    

Just trade out “fiancé Sam Asghari in Hawaii,” for “mean cat, in her living room” and you’ve just described my typical Sunday afternoon.

Answer: Sure, sounds great!

The weirdest shit I saw on Craigslist recently       

“Look man, do you wanna meet me up at the midtown Olive Garden and ‘didge’ or what? I’m not made of time, and I am certainly not made of money.”

Shit you really ought to read           

Mama Mia, here I go again. What if we kissed…in an underground Georgian bunker? The costumes in the “Gilded Age” are literally works of art, and 90% of why I watch the show.