This is an excerpt from Amy's new show, Live Nude Gods. Hilarity ensues. HILARITY!

Satan: (whining) Damn it! Could you two just decide on something before my head explodes from boredom?

Holy Ghost: I’m not going to leave until God agrees that Adam can’t mate with a monkey.

God: He can mate with whatever he wants!

Holy Ghost: No he can’t!

Satan: If Adam wants to fuck a monkey let ‘im! I’m hungry! I want pizza!

I haven't forgotten, I promise.
  I'm still going to take pictures of my new car, and tell you all about Grandma and Flora. I've been sick, though, and there's a hurricane, so y'all will just have to wait.
  I hate being sick, incidentally. *whine*

I'm sure I'm not supposed to do this,
  but fuck it. The management of the Deptford Mall has decided that it is appropriate to remain open, ignoring the fact that the Governor of New Jersey has declared a state of emergency effective a 4 pm this afternoon, and despite the inland tropical thuderstorm wind warning in effect until tomorrow morning. What this means is that any store which decides to err on the side of caution and close up early will be facing a fine from the mall for violating the terms of their lease.
  On a more personal note, it means that my girlfriend, who is already uncomfortable driving in the dark and the rain, will now be forced to drive home after 10 pm in a fucking tropical storm! I cannot imagine the depths of greedy self interest that you need to plumb before the safety and well-being of about a thousand people matters less than keeping a mall open on the off chance that some crack-smoking asshole will feel the overwhelming need to go out in a tropical storm to buy jeans.
  I somehow doubt that this blog gets me enough exposure to foment a serious boycott, but it certainly couldn't hurt to try. If this bothers you as much as it bugs me, please email the mall at info@deptfordmall.com, or their management company at kravco@kravco.com to voice your displeasure. If you know anyone who is employed at the mall, please think seriously about whether you want to support an establishment which holds so little regard for the safety or your friend or loved one.

Dear LBB,
  I want to take my boyfriend to NYC for his birthday to see a Broadway musical called "Wicked," based on the novel by Gregory Maguire.
  I am worried that he won't like it. What if it sucks? What if he has a horrid birthday and it's all my fault?
  What else could I get him? He is emphatically opposed to gift cards, but he likes books, DVDs, computer equipment, electronics... he is, however, an impulse buyer, and if there's something he wants to buy, he tends to go get it himself shortly after it comes out! Oh, LBB, what's a girl to do?????
Signed,
Bugged in Bucks County
Dear Bugged,
  As you know by now, I do not routinely counsel optimism. However, in this case, I believe things are going to be okay, for two reasons.
1) Wicked is basically a retelling of Frank Baum's The Wizard of Oz, with the Wicked Witch of Some Direction or Other as the main character and narrator. It's a musical, based on a book, based on another book, which has previously been adapted into what I believe is fair to call a fairly successful musical. In short, I think it's likely to be pretty good, for a musical. If he likes the book, he should like the show.
2) If he's a decent guy, he won't complain about being taken to New York City for the evening. Hell, if he isn't a decent guy, but he still has some kind of brain in his head, he'll sit through the show and still not complain about being taken to New York City for the evening. If he's a total schmuck with a scooped out tortoise shell for a brain, he'll probably still know enough to act grateful in order to preserve his chances of getting laid ever again.
  In short, don't worry too much about it. He'll enjoy it, or pretend to, and everyone will go home happy, provided you have sex with him. If you're still unsure, skip the trip and give him the never-fail gift of fellatio.

I have many nuggets of wisdom.
  I keep them in a little velvet bag, and I hoard them like delicious candy. Every once in awhile, I notice that they've started to melt and soak through the bag, so I dump them out on the floor, have the bag dry-cleaned, and I start accumulating new ones. The last time around, before they became a trodden-on lump leaching into my floor, I found this little gem.
  Don't like something so much that you can't stand to hear it mocked even a little bit. I know, I know, everyone has their favorite band, movie, deity, etc. that they don't like to see the piss taken out of. Go ahead, have your obsessions. But for the love of your sacred cow, if your advocacy is so devoted and so total that even good-natured teasing or disagreement with your opinion will offend your sensibilities enough that you'll quarrell with an otherwise stalwart and cherished friend, you're taking it way too god damn far.
  After that sentence, I need to have a lie-down. *pant pant*

No, seriously
A haiku for those of us looking for a second cat to keep our first cat company.

We love every
single kitty. One by one.
On the Internet.

(Author's note: It only works if you pronounce it ev-er-y. That makes the first line five syllables.)

It's been a big weekend.
  Truth be told, I'm not even really up to giving you all the details right now, so I'll just break it down for you quick-like.
1) I have a new (to me) car. It's a Mercury Mystique, which is 11 years and 160,000 miles newer than my old car. I got it for the bargain price of $1.00, because
2) My sole remaining grandparent, my father's mother Isabel, has finally been moved out of her house into an assisted living facility. This has been a long time coming, but I still had a bad moment when I started thinking about how Grandma was sleeping in a strange bed while I was sleeping in a bed in the house she lived in for about 60 of her 89 years.
  I'll fill in all the details later. Remind me to show you the pictures of my fabulous new wheels, tell you all about Grandma's new digs, and especially about her wonderfully insane new roommate Flora.