Natalie Cole

Yeah, for real. Random article's got a problem being random lately. I keep getting super well-known stuff. But, I digress. Let's just move on and talk about the crazy stuff I never knew about jazz singer Natalie Cole:

1. She's almost 60!? WTF?! I don't know, but I find it hard to believe that Nat King Cole's little girl is that old. Listen to me. I'm acting as though I knew her when she really was a little girl. In reality, I'm just shocked that this broad is older than my parents.
2. Her real name is Stephanie. Knowing that she's so old, it makes a bit more sense as to why she didn't go with Stephanie. It was probably a super weird name that nobody had back then. Kinda like Carly. I never knew any other Carly growing up and they never had personalized license plates for me at gift shops. Now there are millions of little girls running around with my name, and I find it a blessing. When I get old, everyone will think I'm younger than I am. Just like we would've thought with Stephanie Natalie Cole. But I guess going with her middle name helped her secure those ties with daddy Nat and boost her career, eh?
3. She used to refer to her family as "the black Kennedys." No comment. (Tried hard to find the clip from "Jerry Maguire" where Jerry says "no comment" and realizes Cush is cheatin on him with Bob Sugar. No avail.)
4. She was a druggie?! I guess this is old news by now, but I had no idea. Apparently, she's been sick for about a year. Her kidneys are all jacked up because she she got Hep C from doing so many drugs. WTF Natalie?! You been hanging with Pammy Anderson? Your daddy would never knowingly do that duet with you knowing what a bad kid you'd become.

That's probably not true. I bet Nat would've still done the "Unforgettable" duet in real life--not simulated like we all came to know and love it in the 90s. What an impact that duet had, eh? In fact, my prom theme was "Unforgettable" and that was the theme song.

Looking back, it was really weird, because my junior prom was in 1998 and that fake duet came out in 1991. At least we didn't go totally trite like 75% of the proms that year and use a Green Day's "Time of Your Life." We kept it klassy. Senior year's theme was equally retro and Rat Packy: Van Morrison's "Moondance." It was a great song, and the resulting commemorative grey long-sleeved prom t-shirts were pretty rad, but I distinctly remember nobody knowing how to dance to it. It's not a slow song, and it's not a fast song, and we were in high school in the 90s, so nobody knew the foxt trot. It was very awkward and cumbersome, even for 600 white kids. Maybe we could've used some dancing lessons from the black Kennedys.

1991 World Championships in Athletics - Men's 20 km Walk

The 1991 World Championships in Athletics - Men's 20 km Walk took place on August 24, 1991 in Tokyo and was won by Maurizio Damilano of Italy. (Really? That name is Italian? Duh.) The silver and bronze were both taken by Soviets. And, with that, my mind is racing. Racewalking, if you will.

Racewalking is a track event mandating that one foot "appears to be in contact with the ground at all times." Now, of course, the very thought of dudes doing the fast walk probably makes us all giggle. This particular race probably would have made me ROTFLMAO because I was 9 when it took place. Actually, thinking back to '91 and picturing this race makes me smile quite a bit because I'm picturing these guys wearing neon bike shorts and SurfStyle windbreakers. Yummy.

But let's not be accusatory and instead give these guys a little credit. Racewalking is no joke (except when they had it at this random track meet we did in high school--they had all these weirdo joke events like the Boys 1600m Walk and the Girls 3200m steeplechase, and since they were events nobody ever did for real life--and because they were 16-year-old guys, all the boys in that walk wore, um, neon bike shorts and SurfStyle windbreakers, actually).

Anyway, it's no joke. According to Wikipedia, racewalkers develop this cadence to move more quickly with their short strides and, effectively, become nearly as fast as 400m runners. AND the Olympic events are either 20km (12.4mi) or 50km (31mi)! By my calculations, Sr. Damilano won this race by WALKING 6-minute miles. TWELVE of them. OH EM GEE.

No wonder it was completely acceptable for a macho macho Italian to do such a gay-sounding sport. It's not ladylike at all. It's totally badass. Although I guess that doesn't explain the Soviet success in this event. I wouldn't really consider them most manly Olympians. Their specialty has always been gymnastics, yes? And hockey. Hockey is super gay. Then again, this was when they were doing their part to confuse the fuck out of the entire world with their USSR/CCCP/URS/Russia uniforms changing every day for about 4 years.

In any event, I'd like to conclude that I now have the utmost respect for racewalkers...although I still think I'd prefer if they dressed to entertain me, not to reduce resistance as they stroll through town at lighting speed.

61st Annual Golden Globe Awards

At first, when I saw "61st Annual Golden Globe Awards," I immediately thought they had taken place in like 1979. I don't know why. I wasn't even close. They were the 2003 awards. You wouldn't think it would be so difficult to remember movies & TV from just six years ago because I'm traditionally pretty adept at knowing movie/TV factoids (IMDB.com is my home page for Pete's sake), but I had a hard time with it. All I knew for sure without looking at the list of winners was that my least favorite show (besides Two and a Half Men...and According to Jim...and George Lopez) Sex & the City was a big winner. It had to have been, right? Nah. Walked (gallopped?) away with one award for Sarah Jessica Parker.

The real big winner of the party (yeah, apparently stars say the GGs are a huge party because you sit a tables, not in an auditorium and people get all wasted and shit and then lose their rented Harry Winston jewels) was Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Nerds.

Unfortunately for my own acceptance rating among the nerds I love so much, I've never seen any LOTR movies. I know enough about them through Led Zeppelin music to know it's not really my thing. Okay, that's not true. I think I have this attitude about me where I never want to get into anything that has a huge obsessive following (besdies Zac Efron--wow--my heart is beating faster just thinking about him) for fear that I will also become culty and/or trite and/or creepy in the process.

In my mind, this psychotic following most often develops around movie trilogies/series. Nearly every series you could name is also one I have never seen. I don't know. I guess I've always been averse to them. Get ready to be disappointed and hereby renounce me as the queen of trivia you've all come to know and love. Here's a list of those fave movie series I've never seen:

• Lord of the Rings
• Harry Potter (I saw part of one once. They played that broom game. I fell asleep.)
• Star Wars (I've seen the ewok movie, but that's it. I tried watching the 1st one [the 4th one?] but it was SO boring I turned it off after 20 minutes.)
• Rocky (Am I really missing much? "Eye of the Tiger," egg drinking, Philly steps, "ADRIENNE!")
• Rambo (See above)
• Terminator
• Indiana Jones (I know. This one is kinda important. It's on my Netflix, but I keep bumping it for seasons of Punky Brewster.)
• JAWS (Listen, my sister was too scared to watch Sleeping Beauty and E.T. There was no way my mom was letting us watch JAWS.)
• Nightmare on Elm Street/Halloween/Friday the 13th (I have seen all 3 "Scream" movies, though.)
• Lethal Weapon (I know nothing about these movies.)
  
• Die Hard ("Yippie kay ay motherfucker" is all I need to know, right?)
  
• Police Academy (Watched the cartoon all the time but never saw any of the movies. Weird.)
• Beverly Hills Cop (Now I have that song in my head...)
  
• The Matrix (Ookay, I saw the first one, but I don't remember it.)
• The Godfather (My friend Tyler made us watch the original once in high school. As soon as we got to the dead horse part, I was done. We put on Allison's "Best of MTV's The State" tape instead.)

Are you sufficiently disappointed? Yeah, I know. Me too. Guess I've got some stuff to go watch.

Soleil Moon Frye

Now this Wikroll merits not just an OMG, but a ZOMG! Are you kidding me?! Soleil Moon Frye is more or less my hero. Well, okay. Her character on beloved sitcom Punky Brewster is my hero. I was Punky for Halloween in 1st grade...and 2nd grade...and 3rd grade.

As far as I was concerned, Punky Brewster was the best TV show of all time. Until 1990, of course. That's when the best TV show of all time became Saved by the Bell, and Punky was relegated to best TV show about Chicago of all time (yes, better than Perfect Strangers). If you know me at all, you know that's my steadfast belief. Luckily, SBTB and Punky swapped cast members occasionally.

Mark-Paul Gosselaar (Zack Morris to those who have never had a television ever) guest starred as Punky's math tutor on one of the later episodes when she'd adopted a more normal super 80s bright-colored fashion sense (after she stopped wearing her signature jeans-bandanna-vest-pigtail ensemble but before she got super hot & sexy). Sadly, the episode ended in Zack screwing over both Punky and Margaux (sorry, Cherie), but at least Punky came through and earned an A+ in friendship (PLEASE watch the clip).

In return, a grown Soleil traveled to Bayside high to play Screech's gold digging fake girlfriend in the Screech's Spaghetti Sauce episode. (The sauce-a you can have, but the secret? She's-a mine.) Of course, this was during a tough time in Soleil's life, right about the time of her monumental breast reduction survey. Yes. Punky grew from a mismatched tomboy to a very voluptuous young lady. In fact, Wikipedia claims she suffered from gigantomastia. Poor Punky.*

It's sad to think about Punky growing up back then and getting more & more uncomfortable. Even more uncomfortable than the time she liked some boy on the show, and he said his favorite color was orange, so she dressed in head-to-toe orange and then attempted to pluck her eyebrows. Ouch. It was not a shining moment for Penelope Brewster. At least she's all better now.

Well, kind of. She's ostensibly more comfortable, but she's making some poor life choices these days:

1. She's been spending her time hanging out with her new BFF Melissa Joan Hart (who hasn't wowed me since her days as Clarissa, to be honest).
   
2. She's voicing Bratz dolls in movies. Kind of ironic, eh? Bratz dolls have the same proportions Soleil was in danger of having before her surgery!
   
3. She's married to the guy who invented Punk'd with Ashton Kutcher. I wonder if that's how he thought of the name Punk'd. I mean, the term did kinda come out of nowhere, didn't it? "Hey, Ashton, let's just name it after my wife. Cool?"
   
4. They named their children Poet Sienna Rose and Jagger Joseph Blue. Poor kids. I hope they don't suffer from gigantomastia too.
   

I guess nobody's perfect. Even my hero Punky. but what would one expect from a lady named Sun Moon? Yeah, I know French. Je te le tua, je ne le ca va?**

UPDATE: Check this out. Punky on Twitter (Ugh, Twitter. It's so WEIRD.): http://celebrity-babies.com/2009/04/22/soleil-moon-frye-finds-a-twitter-pal-in-daughter-poet/

*When I write her name, it makes me think of the Family Guy episode where Brian does his impression of Punky's adoptive father Henry saying "Punkaaaay" over & over. Coindicentally, Jessie Bloodgood does an excellent version of Punky saying "Henry."

**To my knowledge, this means nothing.

Stone Ridge, Virginia

Seriously, what's with all these artificial communities popping up in random article lately? It's creepy to know that there are so many of them around. Stone Ridge, Virginia, is a mixed-use community near WDI (Washington-Dulles Airport). FYI, I like using airport codes whenever possible, although Chicago's "ORD" and "MDW" are very inconspicuous and nobody would ever guess "Chicago" when looking at them. "MKE" is another story, which is why I'm proud to be from the Greater Milwaukee Area originally (y'know, where teachers like to hook up with each other a lot).

In any event, Stone Ridge is what I like to call a "fake town." Developers come in, take a giant plot of land and put in a diversified mix of living arrangements: houses, town homes, condos & apartments (like M.A.S.H). Then they build cute little downtown areas with chain restaurants and generically well-liked (but discount) retail stores like JoS. A Bank and Ann Taylor Loft. Then they build a school or two. And if they're totally into the creepy pod-person Pleasantville feel of the whole thing, there's a church of some sort. Oh, and all the trees are new and tiny because they were planted specifically for the fake town. It's so weird.

They built one near my grandma's condo in Glenview like 6-ish years ago. Coincidentally (or on purpose), it was called The Glen. The year I lived with Grams (The C-dubs if you're really tight with her) after college, it was being finished and expanded. This one was much more upscale than Stone Ridge, Virginia, though. Whereas SRV's got Wendy's, Cingular, Walgreens and Subway, The Glen's got Noodles, Ulta, Dick's Sporting Goods, and Wildfire (which is actually an excellent restaurant despite the fact that it's a small chain). They've even got a golf course.

They weren't messin' around when they built The Glen. It's very lovely. But Grams & I still mockingly called it the fake town whenever we'd go there for dinner and/or shopping and/or movies (and/or church...NOT).

The Glen does have one huge flaw, though: no back yards! Seriously. In the area where they have single family homes, the driveways are all in the BACK of the houses. If you live there, you go around back to a shared alley, and that's where your garage & driveway are. So it's like you've got TWO front yards because there's yard there...it's just adjacent to road and other houses. Again. So weird. Let's hope SRV thought about that when buidling so close to WDI. The last thing I want to see when I'm flying into DC is a neighborhood with no yards.

Neoneli

I wish Neoneli were what it sounds like, a futuristic cyborg version of Nelly (Where the F did he go, BTW? I haven't heard about his exploits/joints/cribs in years, despite the fact that I still hear "Ride Wit Me" on a weekly basis.)

In reality, Neoneli is a "commune" on the island of Sardinia. I think Wikipedia is misusing the term "commune," though, because it sounds like this place is just a town where people really like their space. It's 49 square km, but there are only 776 people there. Population density? Only 16! 16?!!?!

Now, obviously I think this sounds rather ludicrous (nope, not referring yet another rapper from the Welcome to Atlanta Remix) since I live in Chicago, where the population density is like 12,000. But my hometown back in Wisconsin is pretty spacious and a so-called "farmy" locale. And still, the density is 182 and we definitely had enough room that we couldn't see the neighbors.

This was definitely a good thing. To one side was the perpetually drunk couple who had 5 cats, all named after characters from Rocky & Bullwinkle. To the other was the family who spent all winter collecting sap from their trees. And across the street was my 8th grade science teacher, his wife and his twin girls, Missy & Jenny, who babysat us when we were little. They seemed pretty perfect. Oh, you know, until I reached 8th grade and realized the rumor that he was dating another one of the 8th grade teachers, Mrs. Claus, was indeed true. Now that the term is ubiquitous, I can confidently categorize Nancy Claus as a cougar, quite dangerous for all the pubescent 14-year-old boys in her class. With her catlike powers and her penchant for adultery, her name really should've been spelled C-l-a-w-s. Pun intended.

In fact, when I was in 1st grade, I remember some of the 8th graders came down to read us "Miss Nelson is Missing." They said "We're from Mrs. Claus' 8th grade English class," and I never once thought "Oh, like Santa's wife." Nope. I immediately thought of Dr. Claw from Inspector Gadget. I swear. It didn't even occur to me to relate this woman to Santa. Just the villain from my favorite cartoon. And even 7 years before I'd actually meet the woman, I was right. Turns out she was awful. I always knew I had good intuition.

In any event, Mrs. Claus and her married prey eventually got married themselves and his family basically fell apart. With good reason, of course. At least Jenny got to marry an Olympic Gold medalist. She deserves it. She was a good babysitter.

Listen to me now. Two posts in a row about indiscretions of my former teachers. Maybe they should think about spreading people out even more up in Wisco. All this close contact is causing so much drama. I bet Neoneli is totally adultery-free.

Pingfang

Okay, I'll admit it. The first time I hit random article today, I got John F. Kennedy. No joke. But the fact that I had to actually say "no joke" to tell you that JFK really did come up randomly is the reason why I rolled again to get Pingfang. Sorry to compromise the integrity of Wikrolled, but the most beloved guy-who-goes-by-initials of all time (tied with LBJ, FDR and APK) didn't seem random enough. Plus, we all know his story, so we wouldn't have learned anything. I would've just written about the scene in Wayne's World where Wayne imitates Marilyn Monroe singing Happy Birthday to Jack.

In any event, on to Pingfang. Despite being the funnest word to say, ever (next to "preposterone"), Pingfang's claim to fame is super sad. It was the headquarters of the Japanese Biological Warfare Unit 731 in China during WWII (please read "dubya, dubya, two" like John Wayne). And now I'm thinking about Honors English 9 in high school, when we had to read Hiroshima. Yes, I know this is not the same - nuclear bomb sent by the US to Japan is not the same as dungeons and incinerators built by the Japanese in China - but still. I'm thinking of that book.

More notably, though, I'm thinking about what happened when we were discussing it in class. During one of the most serious discussions around the book, Katy Melenchik* spilled a bottle of CK One all over the floor next to Jill Kennedy's* backpack and there was a minor freakout. Miss Jane Grabowski* got all crabby and sent them both to the office, while the rest of the class had to bathe in cheap cologne all afternoon.

But that was back when Jane was still single and crabby. Before she started dating math teacher Mr. Oswald and became nice. When those two got married, Honors English 9 got a fuck of a lot easier. Not only was she Mrs. Oswald, but she was also married into the cool clique of teachers at school, a group she never could've gotten into without good ol' Oswald. You know, the hot social studies & math guys who coached baseball & track...and eventually marry former students.

Well, turns out her tenure in the popular circle didn't last too long. Turns out her new husband ended up getting frisky with Maggie Barnes* on the bus back from Summerfest...the summer before Maggie's senior year. DRAAAAAMA! Like, drama worse than anything from WWII . Bet Jane wanted to send that cheating creep over to Pingfang? Fuck yeah. Give him up.

PS: Apparently Skinny used to date Maggie Barnes in like 8th grade. I can't decide whether Mr. Oswald was a step up or a step down from that.

*Names changed to protect the innocent. AKA, so if they ever Google themselves, they won't find my weirdo blog post.

Real Jardín Botánico de Madrid (Royal Botanical Garden of Madrid)

What an exciting day for Wikrolled. Not only have I heard of the Real Jardín Botánico de Madrid, I've been there at least three times. That picture is actually from my most recent visit in '07. I sound like a douche, don't I? Whatever. It's time for Carly to brag about all her trips to Spain again. Sorry, friends.

My first trip was in high school. We took this big trip with my AP Spanish class. Pretty typical. Some kids got busted for drinking at Kapital, the giant club that was next to our hotel (and really close to the Real Jardin, actually), and we all took some really cool pics with our Kodak Advantix cameras (y'know, entire rolls of panaoramic shots because we forgot to change the switch back to regular). I also bought a prom dress, since senior prom was like the week after we got back. This was thrilling because I knew nobody else would have the same one. Didn't end up wearing it, though. I decided when I got back that I didn't like it anymore and I made my mom get me a new one. What an asshole.

My second "trip" was junior year of college. Wasn't a trip, really, since I lived there for six months, but my visits to Madrid were trips, I guess. Yes, it was study abroad. Yes, I know a million Americans go there every year to "study." Yes, it's trite. And, yes, it was the best time of my life. I actually lived in Sevilla, and we went up to Madrid a couple times to visit all the stuff--the Real Jardin, the Palacio, the museos, the Hard Rock Cafe. You know. The important stuff. Seriously, though. I don't really consider Madrid very Spanish. Sure, they've got tapas and the guys wear tight pants, but besides that, you could be in any big European city. We were really proud to live in Andalusia, I think. They definitely had better accents. I could talk about this for hours, but I won't. You're welcome.

I'll move on. My third trip was a five-year reunion for all my friends from the study abroad trip. Eight of us went. It was oh-so-fun...but oh-so-weird. We spent half the week in Madrid, where we visited all the stuff again (and partied with DJ Reda) and the other half in Sevilla, which had done a 180 in five years. Starbucks everywhere, a metro system, more annoying clubs, you know. Josefina was not impressed. Oh. Josefina was our Spanish "mom" that we lived with during our semester. She was a badass. So was her suuuuuuper old and senile mother, "abuela." When we were there in '07, Katie and I, who had been roommates in Sevilla, went back to visit Josefina, sure that abuela would no longer be there because she was roughly 167 years old when we lived there. Indeed, she was still kicking at 172. What a crazy broad.

Pendergardens

Pendergardens is a self-contained pedestrian development being constructed in the last open space left in Malta. This is straight outta LOST, people! The description makes it sound idyllic, all-inclusive and lovely, but all I can think of is the tropical-yet-creepy Dharma commune and their mysterious (read: psychotic) orientation videos. Like, don't you wonder what kind of people would move there? Do you think there's a waiting list or they have to shadily recruit people and dupe them into coming like they did to Juliet? (PS, I really apologize for all the LOST references. If you don't get them, then just read this instead.)

As it if weren't enough that I picture this place crawling with clones and hoverboards (meaning I think this place is the love child of super 70s Dharma, the movie Gattaca and the "future" part of Back to the Future Part II), I've also got some qualms with the whole "pedestrian development" thing. The only "pedestrian development"* I can currently recall ever visiting is Mackinac Island, which, coincidentally, I was just telling J. Holmes about this afternoon. It's quiant, yes. But all there really is to do there is eat fudge and ride bikes. Oh, you can also go on horse-drawn carriage rides. Yawn.

Thinking about it now, the image I've worked up in my head actually sounds kind of exciting. Like Narnia but without the lions. Exotic and futuristic with lots of dudes that look like Ethan Hawke & Michael J. Fox. Oh, and ponies. Sadly, I perused Pendergardens.com, and it looks like my dreams will not be coming true. Why do they insist on letting me down?

*Another notable pedestrian area is at my alma mater: State Street in Madison, Wisconsin. Check it out on MTV's College Life, a piece of trash reality show that makes me reaaaaaalllllly miss being in school. Madison = utopia.

Oreolalax Nanjiangensis

So when you type in an animal's scientific name on Wikipedia, it usually redirects to a page with the actual English name, like this. But, sadly for the oreolalax nanjiangensis, there is no actual name. He doesn't have one. He's just a totally ambiguous frog-like creature. Hell, I don't even know if he's a frog by reading this article. It just says he's an amphibian endemic to China. So it could be a salamander or a toad. Are those the only amphibians? I think so.

After further inspection of his scientific classification chart, I now know that this animal is a frog. But WTF does he look like? What does he do?! Let's use deductive reasoning, shall we? That's what my good friend Jessie Bloodgood would do.

Oreolalax nanjiangensis. Break it down:

• Oreo: Well, no we're getting somewhere. This frog is obviously black & white. And tastes excellent dipped in peanut butter.
• Lalax: In my mind, "la-la" brings to mind Ashlee Simpsion (sad, I know), and "lax" makes me think of my friend Andy because he often yells, "Guy! ReLAX!" in his ridiculous Boston accent.* But, you know, "lalax" all together just makes me think of Dr. Seuss' most preachy story of all, The Lorax. So, this frog must be an environmentalist. Makes sense, since Wiki says oreolalax is threatened by loss of habitat. Sorry, buddy.
• Nanjia: Duh. Ninja. He's a ninja frog. 2nd cousin of the ninja turtle. His weapon of choice is the throwing star.
• Gensis: Easy. Phil Collins.

In conclusion, we have now determined that oreolalax nanjiangensis is a black & white frog who's a member of PETA and stalks its prey using the kung fu tiger style to the tune of some of the 1980s' favorite soft rock hits. This is Sussudio. A great, great song. A personal favorite. (At least according to this guy.)

*It does NOT make me think of Ex-Lax, okay? There will be no potty humor on Wikrolled.

Fornication in Delirium

Sorry kids. "Fornication in Delirium" is not what I did on Saturday night (although I'm going to guess that some of my fellow promgoers* can't say the same). It is, indeed, the title of the 1992 EP by death metal band Rottrevore, a Pittsburghian band that lived from 1987-1995. That entire sentence sounds terrifying. I wish I could say the same for the title of this so-called death metal record.

While the title does imply "Fucking Like Crazy," I can't say I find their chosen euphemisms to be particularly hardcore. I'd expect the title of a death metal album to be something more like...um, I don't know..."Fucking Like Crazy," wouldn't you?

It doesn't stop there, either. The EP only contains two tracks, both of which are also wimpily named. "Unanimous Approval" sounds like an inspirational adult contemporary-approved alt-rock song by Vertical Horizon or New Radicals. And "Conspiracized" just brings to mind some sort of protest song the Indigo Girls wrote about the multiple illegal alien conspiracy theories surrounding the southwestern US.

I'd like to say that the moral of the story is that the reason you've never heard of Rottrevore is because they were terrible at naming things. But that's not true. Their other albums sound totally scary and offensive: "Copulation Of The Virtuous And Vicious," "The Epitome of Pantalgia" and my personal favorite "Son Of Bllleeeeaaauuurrrrgghhh!"

So what happened in 1992? Can't tell ya. Guess it just wasn't as good as 1987.

*Yes. I attended a prom on Saturday. Deal with it. I'm not a creepy cougar. My friends Josh & Katie, the only married ones of our big bubble of friends, host us every year in their loft. The cops came this year. Yeah, we're badass as "Son of a Bllleeeeaaauuurrrrgghhh!" though.

Table Rock, Nebraska

My first thought when I saw "Table Rock, Nebraska" was "OMG! That's from Oregon Trail!" (Hopefully, because of my generation's incredible propensity for nostalgia, I need not explain that Oregon Trail was an educational computer game played in schools throughout the 1980s to teach kids how pioneers traveled west in the mid 1800s. It also taught us that diseases like cholera, dysentery and bad grass could kill you, that buffalo are easy to kill but impossible to carry and that it's really funny to name people in your party Butthead or Jerk so you could see those hilarious words pop up on your screen at school!)

Sadly for all of us, there will be no moderately paced, 2-oxen walk down memory lane today. Table Rock was in no way part of Oregon Trail. The Nebraskan rock in question was indeed the landmark before which Dumbface would inevitably die trying to ford the Platte River, Chimney Rock. Table Rock is just some tiny town in the bottom right (southeast) corner of Nebraska. It's got 264 people and not much else. Sad trombone.

Now, in my mind, every municipality in Nebraska is relatively minuscule. I know for a fact that North Platte, Nebraska, is the country's smallest television market. My friend Tom was a meteorologist there right out of college. He loved it, especially because he was quite a hit with North Platte's population of 4 single ladies.

I mean, even when I picture Omaha, I don't picture a city at all. I picture one of those highway exits that's got a lot of chain stores--a Target, a Best Buy, a Hardee's, a Ponderosa and a Dairy Queen. (If you've ever driven to from Milwaukee to Madison, you know I'm picturing that Delafield exit that used to have the smiley barn.) Sorry Omaha.

But, yikes. Table Rock is teeny. 264?! There'll be more people than that at the party I'm going to tonight. And it's at someone's house! However, the weird thing here is their population breakdown. Half of those 264 people live alone! 46.5% of Table Rock households are made up of individuals. So, either Table Rock is the hottest spot in the country for singles to mingle...or they all just spend all their time playing Oregon Trail, wishing they lived in the more notable Chimney Rock. My guess is the former. I'm movin' to Table Rock.

PS: Wikipedia makes no mention of where/what the "table" is in Table Rock. WTF?

San Francisco Theatre District

Based on the city's lingering stereotype, I'm sure San Francsico's theatre district is quite a thriving one, especially given that it's located in an area of the city called Tenderloin. Really? Must you be so suggestive with the gay imagery, San Francisco neighborhood naming committee? Actually, I've been informed that the area is actually rather sketchy and not the flamboyant Key West-meets-Land of Oz that I'm picturing in my head right now. Sad.

I've never even been to San Francisco, which is weird because I have several friends out there. Unfortunately, most of my knowledge of the city is entirely derived from Full House. It was a staple. It still is.

In fact, I had three separate conversations last Saturday night about each of the three father figures from Full House:

Uncle Jesse: This guy Jon that I met after my improv show went to John Stamos'* birthday. Apparently, Stamos is rocking a "hot, but still cool" 23-year-old girlfriend these days. Sounds pretty awesome, until you remember that the Olsen twins are about that age. Icky, Uncle Jesse. Icky.

Danny Tanner: My friend Garrett later told me a story about how he met Bob Saget at a theatre in Arlington Heights. He was, indeed, just as dirty as everyone claims he is (or knows he is, based on his Aristocrats performance), and made some super racist remarks.

Joey Gladstone: Finally, I watched an entire improv show that somehow came to center on Dave Coulier (who they referred to as "The Host of 'America's Funniest People'" in the show). That wasn't really a conversation per se, but whatever. It was weird to have the whole thing come full circle. NOTE: I'd like to state for the record that his character was just Joey. He was an avuncular figure, yes, but he was not an uncle. Joey. Not Uncle Joey.

I wonder if the folks in Full House lived near the theatre district. They'd probably get a lot of attention in Tenderloin, being 3 dudes living together and all. Wait, no. I'm confused. Maybe I should just go visit.

PS: Supplementary San Francisco knowledge has been gleaned from Mrs. Doubtfire, which I watched every day before 8th grade because I had a huge crush on Matthew Lawrence, Joey's

*I know a real guy named John Stamos. He's pretty good at trivia. Also, this guy Jon that went to Stamos' bday apparently used to have a fake ID with the name John Stamos. Weird. little brother.