Obituary for the World's Only Reliable Newspaper

Ever since I was but a wee lad, I've always been fascinated by the completely absurd headlines screaming at me under the name "WEEKLY WORLD NEWS." Whether they claim that the president is actually an alien in league with bigfoot or are reporting on the latest exploits of a certain vampire lad, I never got tired of what sort of insane stories the WWN were perpetrating as truth.

That's why when, as I was reading The Onion (ironically enough), I was faintly horrified to discover that, as of August 3, 2007, the WWN would cease publication. I did some quick searching to verify that this was true, discovered that it was, and sat back to drink this in. I recall scanning the magazines in a supermarket one day, wearily reading the headlines about this or that celebrity enduring rehab or having babies, and then my eyes fell on the headline "GIANT BATS ATTACK AIRPLANE." It was strangely refreshing, knowing that at least one tabloid doesn't take itself so seriously.

I also appreciated the irony of their slogan, "The World's Only Reliable Newspaper." It rings somewhat true, considering that one can always rely on WWN's stories to be ludicrous. They will never let you down. And come on, who can argue that heavy-handed political cartoons or reports on the latest mistakes our government is making are more awesome than "Man stabs himself to death with toothbrush." No one, that's who.

WWN has drawn my eyes ever since I was tiny, and I seem to remember that it wasn't the only tabloid reporting on how Bill Gates was hiding the loch ness monster. I wasn't so surprised, then, when I read on WWN's wikipedia article that one large corporation bought most of the tabloids in publication, and promptly changed them all to celebrity-reporting rags.

Sigh.

I'm really gonna miss that stupid paper.

WEEKLY WORLD NEWS, 1979-2007

The Consequences of Owning a Cell Phone

So just past midnight tonight I heard my relatively new cell phone ring from the other room. I ran in to pick it up, wondering who would be calling at that hour, and the ID read "private."

I don't know anyone named private, so of course I was highly curious as to who was calling. Maybe it was a secret society calling to initiate me. Maybe it was the president. Maybe it was a zombie president, calling from beyond the grave! So I picked up the phone. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Hello?
Them: Heyyy
Me: H-hello.
Them: Heyyyyy
Me: Who is this?
Them: This is !
Me: Who again?
Them: Reggie !
Me: I...don't know anyone named Reggie.
Them: Oh. So are you some kind of crazy drug-dealing f***er?
Me: Yeah...something like that.
Them: Wow. Yeah. Are you really?
Me: Not really, no. But you never know, right? I could be anyone.
Them: Right. Okay, bye, you crazy dumb cracker.
Me: Righto!
*hangup*

There you have it. Midnight call from drunken weirdos? I'm thinking very yes. So next time I get a phone call from Private...I will definitely take it. And I will be ready. And knowing...is half the battle. The other half is pretending to be a Harvard Lockjaw at a wine party.

At World's Edge

I spent the previous week on my first family vacation since we went to Quebec in the summer of two-thousand and three. This time we were too cool to pick just one place to vacation, so we visited not one but three popular tourist locations. They were

A. Colonial Williamsburg

B. Busch Gardens

C. Virginia Beach

Now you have to decide which of them I'm going to write about. Finished? Okay, the correct answer is "none," because I'm not writing, I'm typing. You might even say I'm blogging, but I'm not sure if I like that made-up verb. Anyway I'm going to type/blog (blype? tyog? is every typer a blogger? is every blogger a typer? come on, your ACT grade depends on this) about number C, the Beach of Virginia, ostensibly the longest pleasure beach in the known universe.

Virginia Beach is massive, full of half-clad people with an affinity for UV rays, and guarded by a colossal statue of Neptune. Except for the latter, that's generally what you'd expect from a beach, right? Yesss. Anyway I'm not going to talk more about the beach because we did exactly what everyone does at the beach: swim not more than 50 meters from the shore and get mad sunburns. I assume that's what everyone with my complexion does, anyhow.

Instead I'm going to talk about one of those things that no beach in the USA is complete without: the Beach Souvenir Shop. If one removed all of the dollar stores and gas station gift shelves from the earth, these would be the tackiest places on the planet. I have compiled a list in my head, soon to be in your head, of the things (besides standard beach equipment) that beach souvenir shops must have in order to qualify:

1. Several shelves of cheap, ceramic sculptures of dolphins; mermaids; pirates; or any combination of the above three

2. White t-shirts displaying, in various degrees of discreteness, any of the following subjects: location of the beach one is staying at; displays of one's ability to woo and take advantage of the opposite sex; aptitude to become intoxicated; aptitude to woo and take advantage of the opposite sex while intoxicated; one's identity as a pirate; one's disregard for anything another human being may have to say; misogyny; misandry; misanthropy.

3. Novelty beach towels of varying sizes containing any of the following: dragons; the sun; sharks; dolphins; jolly rogers; females of the centerfold variety; large felines.

4. Large amounts of pirate-related paraphernalia.

5. Shot glasses. Possibly displaying any of the subjects listed under "T-shirts."

6. Various articles of clothing displaying brands of alcoholic beverages.

The above are required to created the barest of minimums for a beach souvenir shop. A couple of other things really add to the tack, however:

-Dead sea creatures, whole or in part, in displayable modes IE a shark in a jar or a head of a small alligator.

-Free hermit crabs! Of course they are only free with the purchase of a tank, shell, food...

-Alcoholic beverages.

I spent more time in beach souvenir shops than I ever have at VA beach, mostly because I was looking for a really sweet novelty beach towel to take home with me. Like, something with ninjas or dinosaurs or a dancing skeleton or maybe a castle. Of course, none of these subjects were represented in anything I could find and I eventually gave up. Instead I decided I would buy a hermit crab and smuggle it into my dorm come the school season. I haven't actually gotten one yet, but the time is coming...