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There are plenty of great scenes in the movie Cocoon. Too many to name, but my personal fave is when Wilford Brimley takes his grandson fly fishing to tell him that he will be “moving” to “somewhere else.” Then grandson asks if he can visit. Brimley casts his reel, and says blankly to the horizon “No.“

Then the grandson asks Brimley will he ever even see his grandparents again, a relationship the movie took great pains to stress as important. “No,” says Brimley with all the curtness of a “Nope. No way. Next question.” I like the scene so much because it ain’t all about you kid. You want pop-pop to take you to the mall arcade? Guess what? Pop-pop can’t. Pop-pop going to another planet.

My second favorite scene is when old ass Hume Cronyn blows off Jessica Tandy to go caterwauling with a checkout girl. My third favorite scene is when Hume Cronyn punches Ron Howard’s brother Clint in the face, because, as director, Ron Howard cast his brother in a terrible role.

This is part of a TVTV documentary about the 1976 Super Bowl in Miami, starring Bill Murray and Christopher Guest. In it, Johnny Unitas and Paul Hornung, in particular, act like they both, probably, really got laid the night before. Like in a Brazilian way.

Bill Murray has a mustache in it, and he talks to ex-players. Then the ex-players take hold of former beauty queen, and then current NFL Today host, Phyllis George by the arms and pull her onto the field. They chase her around with the ball like it’s a hotel room. She’s a lady in a man’s world! Just like Mika Brzezinski.

At the end, Pat Summerall shows up to class up this bit of an affair. Just as he will have to do this weekend as master of ceremonies at the Scott Storch and Jaime Foxx “Salt & Pepper Girls with Pom-Poms Party” at Club Gassy on South Beach- cash bar. $200 entry fee without a guest pass; $250 entry fee with guest pass.

(l-r: Howard Zinn; JD Salinger)

In 5th grade they asked us “What would you like to be when you grow up?” One kid said a doctor, another said an astronaut. The kid next to me wanted to be “a CPA” if you can believe it.

I was next. “CPA” threw me. I had to say something interesting, doubly hard because I grew up idolizing the fire department. So instead I said I wanted to write obituaries. “Pardon?” asked Ms. Chismar. I repeated. “Young man,” she recoiled. “Do you even know what that means?“

I didn’t but, similar to my stated desire to become one, I pretended. Ms. Chismar, fearing the worst, informed my parents. They rejoiced: Writing obituaries? That’s steady work. I haven’t wanted to disappoint my parents since, which is why, even know, they think it my life’s passion. “Living the dream…” I imagine they say to each other when someone famous dies.

I told them I write an obit column for New York Newsday (I don’t). They don’t live in the area, and Newsday only has 35 online subscribers, so my secret is safe. Every once in a while I mail them fake obits, I write in my spare time, to keep up the charade. Ps, I’m no good at it:

****

Acclaimed novelist Howard Zen died today. The notorious recluse, and anti-war protester, died from injuries sustained in a fight involving switchblades. Customarily, in these fights one arm is tied behind the back, explaining why Mr. Zen’s left arm was found wrapped in a Mohegan Sun monogrammed washcloth. Mr. Zen wrote the book “Catch Her in the Wry” about communism and being a teenager.

Mr. Zen also wrote several long books, and a few short ones, and was an adamant protester of the Vietnam War Memorial, constructed in 1982. “I will not rest until we put a stop to this war memorial, and ALL war memorials,” he famously said, into a megaphone, outside a federal building with people watching.

Mr. Zen leaves behind a big, red axe and twin dalmatians. Asked to name one regret in life, Zen answered “It would have been cool stopping fires.”

At McDonald’s we understand the importance of family. We also understand, in today’s America, not all families are equal, some are missing a mommy or a daddy. That’s why here at McDonald’s we’re taking steps to improve our family friendly dining establishments, because we put family values even ahead of our value meals. (nudge, nudge)

So beginning this summer every Saturday is “Divorced Dads Deals” day. Dads in divorces, you never ate this good.

No matter if you’re treating your son and his soccer team to a round of McFlurrys or waiting for your ex-wife to arrive with papers that establish new payment minimums on your child support, we have the deal for you: Dollar menu meals half off, full-price 8-piece McNuggets served with free medium Sprite refills, and all you can eat Filet-O-Fish sandwiches. We’re giving those away.

But wait… there’s more.

Divorced dads can luxuriate in our new barstools section where we will not be serving **alcohol. Then enjoy your free medium Sprite at one of our many listening booths that feature the latest songs from our music partners at the K-Rock radio family, stations nationwide. Take advantage of McDonald’s bathroom reading area, or pick up a rake and find bliss in our *Cactus Zen Garden, and as always plenty of parking.

*Cactus Zen Gardens not available at South Carolina locations

**Alcohol available at South Carolina locations

(via synecdoche)

The old man tossed in bed and then expelled a frightful whooping cough. His pillow damp from the wetness of his brow. He turned over all the way in bed to face his grandson. The quiet one he never liked. “It…“

“What Grandpa?” asked the boy rushing to his side.

“…warn them. Must. Coming…” he said between shivers. The moon glowed a full silver through his attic window.

“Grandpa? Grandpa?” repeated the boy.

“It’s coming… SOON.” Grandpa slumped over. His heart had stopped. His eyes still full of warning.

I work off hunches, and I’ve got a hunch that people are getting sick of listening to the deep, melodious CNN tag line voiced by 79-year old acting legend James Earl Jones. It’s just a hunch. That’s where I step in.

Being the voice on a network “bump” is like hitting the lottery, and then suing the lottery for hitting you. We’re talking loads of cash. That’s why I’m throwing my hat in the ring early to be James Earl Jones replacement as the voice for CNN- a younger, hipper voice. Below is my reel.

CNN ID: Wolf Blitzer’s Situation Room

CNN ID: John King

CNN ID: Anderson Cooper 360

CNN ID: Rick Sanchez

CNN ID: Soledad O’Brien

CNN ID: Larry King Live

*pls. note: only makes sense when guest of show also starred in the movie Dune.

CNN ID: Roland Martin

CNN ID: Campbell Brown

CNN ID: Christiane Amanpour

I can not wait for this movie, or any movie that would dare stage a picture like this. This was probably not captured during actual filming, rather it looks to be an outtake of Benicio Del Toro “paling around” with his director.

Kind of like, “Ghaaa, you ponytailed sh*t machine! I can’t believe you talked me into this. Just kidding. No I’m not! I hope this tanks, AND I’M IN IT! That’s how much my career hates you right now. Ghaaa! Now lets get back to work, dummy.“

As much as I liked Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Sweepstakes I imagine that before he became a rich yet generous business maverick he went through a phase of being a complete dick animal. Like Philip Seymour Hoffman in Scent of a Woman meets Philip Seymour Hoffman in Mission Impossible 3, but gay-confused like Boogie Night’s Philip Seymour Hoffman.

In those days the diminutive Wonka would park his champagne colored four-seat Vespa in the dean’s faculty spot, and pull off his white leather riding gloves by their tassels with his teeth, in front of the poorest three students at the prep school. All of them thinking the same thing: “I hope you die on that Vespa Wonka. You chocolate smearing piece of sh*t.“

(via)

If David Morse was a club DJ who spins at hotels in Honolulu, and never worked out, it might look. a little. like. this…

This kid must think he’s real hot sh*t making fun of the way Jason Mraz sings, but Jason Mraz put himself out there and wrote that song kid. Lets see you write a Top 40 hit, and while you’re at it stop thumbing pick-ups on that ukulele and play the goddamn thing!

“The Calvin Klein letter design came about in the early 70’s Mrs. Mendes. What you’re admiring there is the Futura™ Book font designed by Paul Renner in 1932. You’ll notice it’s, um, a Sans Linear Geometric font which means it’s, um, basically good for logos but not quite as effective as text.”

“What else? What else?”

“Attributes! The attributes are credited to the late-20’s German Bauhaus school of design, implying bold and symmetrical shapes. Not to be confused with the Peter Murphy fronted English goth band of the same name. We get that a lot.”

“Aaaaaaaand… let’s see.”

“It’s a very masculine font. Not like- like, uh”

“…she’s looking at her own ass isn’t she?”

Today I got CC’d by a family member in an email with the subject line “Madea’s Thanksgiving Rules!” Now normally I go ka-raaazy for funny chain emails. I think they should collect them all and put them in a book, and then burn that book inside the broken monitors of the computers they come from. You can read the original “Madea Thanksgiving Rules” here, but below are even more rules with help from a couple of Twitter friends:

1.  After polishing off seconds, it is acceptable to PARTIALLY unzip your fat suit to lie down. (via: @Caissie)

2. Vicki Lawrence’s career is one of the things we give thanks for.

3.  Please locate your character type card on dinner table before sitting down: philandering husband, unhappy career woman, etc… (via: @scratchbomb)

4.  If you don’t like football, good; if you do like football, tough. There’s a Meet the Browns marathon on.

5.  Inviting over Asian people is equally okay and uncomfortable.

6.  We laugh in the good times, we laugh at Good Times, but we do not laugh at The Office.

7.  Fart-off starts at 6 sharp.

8.  Adults, relegate physical abuse to the kid’s table.

9.  If you’re going to eat the food, REALLY eat the food. Don’t go half eating the food. Put down the knife and fork and EAT THE FOOD!

10.  Try to not get startled when sexually explicit references are followed by sexually explicit prayers.

11. You may notice hair in your food depending on how light-skinned uppity you are.

12.  Strokes happen in the kitchen, away from children.

13.  Dress code is mandatory: she insists upon formal Steve Harvey menswear.

14.  Yes Madea refers a lot to slitting people’s throats with a knife, and yes each year we help her bury her turkey cutting knife in the backyard, so what?

15.  No stepping on Madea’s line, and no writer’s strike on Madea’s set.

I went to a new French restaurant the other day and ordered their Sauteed Calf’s Brain with a Savoy Cabbage, Pancetta, and Brown Butter Sauce. Well guess what? They used chicken stock instead of veal stock. After my waiter wiped the spit from his face he went back into the kitchen to reorder my meal. So thanks Chef, round of applause.

…but he didn’t see me.

Yes I’m sure. I crossed the street.

I mean, I’m pretty sure. I’m hiding in the closet just in case.

Christ. I’m really f*cking scared Marge.

ABC canceled Hank this week, and according to Entertainment Weekly there are no plans to air the remaining five episodes of the show.

So where does that leave us, the audience? With just memories I guess, like sand between curled toes. We will move on of course, but before we do we’ll remember. We will remember Hank.

Related: Kelsey Grammer falls down.

Philadelphia Phillies ace Cliff Lee fell asleep on the mound after 8 1/2 scoreless innings against the New York Yankees in last night’s Game 1 of the World Series. Lee was wakened in the 9th only after Derek Jeter laced a single off of him into right field.

“Wha- what? Yeah! I’m up. I’m up.” he said bleary eyed as shortstop Jimmy Rollins sprinted over to jostle him from slumber.

No, not “do not resuscitate” Jim. No, not Jim from the office who thinks he’s like Jim on The Office. Not that Jim. Not the Jim who sells car phones. Not lifetime ban from Olive Garden Jim either. The Jim who murdered those people. You know, Jim Jim.

This REALLY worked, and I bet they weren’t sure it would.

People tell me it’s weird I carry a 2″ x 3″ inch picture of Jon Gosselin in my wallet, but I happen to like Jon Gosselin. His forceful, preternaturally tan face; the magnetism of ever probing eyes. So much wisdom there. Much to learn. Then people say “Well Jon Gosselin can’t show emotion without his eyebrows.” Well ain’t that a great point!

Mind you, these SAME people had no idea who Jon Gosselin was a minute ago, before I opened up my fat wallet to pay for dinner and it accidentally fell out. Now they want to know EVERYTHING.

“‘Why do you have a picture of Jon Gosselin in your wallet?’ and ‘You told me your new friend’s name was Jon?’ and ‘Is this why your wallet has a combination lock?’ and ‘Are you gay?’ and ‘Why do you cry in bed so much?’ and ‘This is why we’re not ready for a kid- let alone EIGHT!’”

Date. Over.

The Daily Show expounds on a familiar premise.

(Roger Japupnik admires Padma's choice of fish)

Queens born toll booth operator Roger Japupnik just happened to be at the exact same locations as mentioned in last Sunday’s New York Times article “Sunday Routine,” a day in the life of Top Chef host Padma Lakshimi. It’s not creepy. It’s just a coincidence. He just happened to be going where she was going. For instance, the Lucille Roberts on 14th and 5th.

PADMA: When you’re in my line of work, you need every minute you can get on the treadmill. If I get to the gym at 9, it’s not busy, but if you get there at 10, it is. If it’s a light day, I stay 45 minutes. If it’s a leg day, it’s more like two hours. I do squats, I do lunges — I work every part of my body.

Roger Japupnik: “I’m a real gym rat there. I go… what’s a lot? Twice? I don’t know. Toll boof operating is taxing so I need to stay in shape. Lots of cardio there. You know, the treadmill. Leg work. I’d say about two hours just doing legs. I space it out though. Read a People magazine in between reps. Maybe watch other people doing there leg exercises there.”

“Whoa! Is that Ms. Padma? Look at that. At my gym!”

PADMA: Then I come home and I take a shower and I usually go to one or two markets. I go to either Kalustyan’s or I go to Dean & DeLuca or I’ll go down to Chinatown.

Roger Japupnik: “The thing about living in Queens there is, yeah melting pot and all that, but where am I gonna get my hands on spices? Like real ethnic spices? I got to go all the way down to Soho Dean & Deluca to buy a decent, authentic ethnic spice you know? By the way, you ever notice how many mirrors are in that place? You can spot people around any corner.”

“Wow, Padma Lakshimi again! I don’t know what to say? This must be psychic awareness or something. The web of human consciousness, and things like that.”

PADMA: If it’s in the summer, I usually just roll a blanket in my backpack and go to Central Park. When I was little, we lived in Elmhurst, and we would ride the subway in — that was our ritual. My mom would take me to the park, she’d get me a pretzel, she’d have my face painted and we’d listen to music. So it’s almost a very nostalgic pleasure for me.

Roger Japupnik: “Central Park. Wow. A very special place for me. Almost, nostalgia like. I can remember, you know… music and special things like that. People eating on blankets like that. Mommy’s buying pretzel snacks while they listen to the music and sit on the blankets there. Watching- watching the squirrels with my tiny binoculars.”

“Hey, oh my God it’s Ms. Padma again! She’s beaming like headlights in this cold air. She ought to put a sweater on.”

PADMA: I put on some crisp, clean pajamas, make my bed and get back in it. I have these Turnbull & Asser pajamas, they’re really very WASPy, tweedy kind of plaid men’s pajamas. I make a big pot of tea, in one of those big Chinese teapots I got in Chinatown, the white ones with the goldfish on it. I’ll make what’s called a bed picnic. I have a big California King bed.

Roger Japupnik: “I guess a lot of folks are getting that Lasik. The eye surgery thing there? I don’t trust doctors much, but it’s a problem. I lose my contacts sometimes. They just fall outta my eyes like if my allergies act up from say, ethnic spices, or the crisp feel of tweed pajamas in a hamper. Or from laying underneath a California King bed for several hours without moving.”

“Wait a sec… are those Ms. Padma’s feet? I mean they are brown and everything, and they look the same as the plastic molds of her feet I carry in my bag everywhere I go…”

I finally saw District 9. It made some good points about staying away from Nigerians. Plus I liked it when they called the aliens “prawns.” I’m a big fan of that- nicknames. Like, I’m always calling Roger who works with me “Jeffrey Osborne,” because he looks like a sad Jeffrey Osborne. Sometimes I follow him into the bathroom, and when he’s at the urinal I look down at his pee-pee and sing “Can you woo woo woo?” Human Resources wants me to knock it off. “I’ll knock you off, Kim!” That’s my answer.

District 9: B-