This week's column:So what's the deal with Mother's Day?

It’s time once again for "Mr. Holiday" to answer your holiday queries. This week: Mother’s Day.
***

Dear Mr. Holiday:

Is it true that Mother’s Day originated in ancient Greece?

Greek in Gainesville

Dear Greek:
Yes, it can actually be traced back to a Greek celebration in honor of Rhea, the "Mother of the Gods." If you recall your ancient Greek lore, Rhea was best known for getting on the gods’ case about spending all their time smiting many-eyed giants and rescuing heifer-nymphs rather than pursuing something more dependable, like accounting.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Plus, talk about shrinkage

Good news, in case you haven't heard: Although he didn't break the world record for breath-holding, "magician" David Blaine has emerged from his fish bowl after a week underwater and, much to the surprise of doctors and scientists, his skin didn't fall immediately off his body like a dessicated prune.

However, I can't help but wonder how the difficulties he encountered, including "sharp, shooting pain like a knife being stabbed" into every muscle -- bet that never happened to Doug Henning! -- will affect his future stunts. I'm talking specifically about his plans to:

• Seal himself inside an operating heavy-duty dryer for a week and a half;
• Have himself buried in cement under Giants Stadium for 31 years; and
• Have himself put through a Cuisinart and painstakingly reassembled by Chinese seamstresses.

This week's column:Something's off when the TV's not on

In case you somehow missed it, last week was "TV Turnoff Week." This is the week when families all across America turn off their TVs and sit around their kitchen tables staring at each other like frightened bullfrogs.

That's because as we all know, TV is the glue that holds families -- nay, societies -- together. For instance, without TV, nobody would have any idea who Barney Fife is. What kind of world would that be?

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Dick Clark and Ed McMahon have reportedly been taken to Guantanamo for questioning

I can't help but think this is a positive step in the war on terror: The U.S. has apparently acquired the blooper reel from Abu Musab al-Zarqawi's latest video, featuring shots of the al-Qaida bigwig wearing tennis shoes with his black standard-issue terrorist uniform and being unable to operate his machine gun. And this blog has also obtained several other scenes that could prove embarrassing, such as:

• A scene where he continually mispronounces "beheading" before cracking up and saying "Cut, cut!"
• A scene where he accidentally refers to Osama bin Laden as "Omarosa."
• A shot of al-Zarqawi getting hit in the groin with a ball while playing a pick-up game of cricket with Fahd bin Faraj al-Joweir, which is then replayed repeatedly in slow-motion.
• A hilarious bit where al-Zarqawi ad libs a dead-on Peter Lawford impression while Burt Reynolds and Dom DeLuise fall over each other laughing.
• A part where he looks down the barrel of his machine gun and it squirts custard all over him. (This was more of a "practical joke.")

Of course, it could be worse ... He could be making more new movies

Oh, good! George Lucas is re-releasing the first Star Wars Trilogy once more, this time with the original, un-tinkered with movies tacked on to them. That's a relief, because I was starting to think I wouldn't be able to spend my money on the same movies again for the seventh time.

You'll recall how last year, less than a year after releasing the original (updated) Star Wars trilogy on DVD, he released it again, for the same price, with less special features, with different packaging. Yes, he wanted to see if he could get us to pay $49.95 for a cardboard box. Just who does he think would be that gullible?

OK, shut up, it was a nice looking box.

This week's column:Fit to be tied

Ah, spring -- the birds are singing, the grass is growing, and sections of my body that I haven’t thought about in months are jiggling like deviled ham in a paint mixer. Yes, I finally took off my down parka and extra-large sweatshirt last week to find out that somehow, in the time since summer ended, my body had acquired an entire bowling ball.

But luckily I have Blue Cross Blue Shield, which recently sent me its "10 Stay Fit Tips" for spring. Surprisingly, none of them incorporated my No. 1 spring fitness method, which is to stop attacking old Easter candy like a whale sucking in plankton. (I’m also concerned that the term "Stay Fit" might assume an initial level of fitness that my body hasn’t seen since the great Health Rider bender of 1994.)

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Mick Jagger was also hospitalized after laughing his skinny ass off

If Keith Richards had to be injured, it seems somehow appropriate he'd do so falling out of a palm tree. The only thing more appropriate would be if he fell out of a palm tree and landed on Steven Tyler.

Apparently he suffered a minor concussion, and when interviewed after the accident said, "Wha? I'm not so sure wha ... I think I went ... Blimey! You shoulda seen the [unintelligible] ... Gotta smoke, mate?" Oh, wait, that was actually before the accident. My mistake.

Honey, can you pass the bacteria? I've got a big meeting today.

Yes, I know what you're thinking. Why is it they can put a man on the moon, but they can't invent a decent flatulence-free bean? Well, good news. It turns out you can invent your own flatulence-free bean, simply by dousing your food with bacteria before you eat it.

Or you can just continue to clear the room after every meal. Your choice.

This week's column:A chimp for all seasons

With so many live-fast, die-young stars having made headlines in Hollywood over the years, it's refreshing to hear about one celebrity who managed to navigate a wild, debauched youth and emerge relatively unscathed. Yes, I'm talking about Carol Channing.

Wait, no, I read my notes wrong. I'm actually talking about Cheeta the chimp, who co-starred in a dozen "Tarzan" movies in the '30s and '40s and, according to the Associated Press, celebrated his 74th birthday at a California primate sanctuary last week. This puts Cheeta in an exclusive group of aging child stars from Hollywood's golden age, which consists primarily of him and Mickey Rooney, for whom he is often mistaken.

Anyway, the usually reclusive chimp sat down to an interview with me over dung beetles and banana daiquiris in his sunroom recently, looking a fraction of his age in a silk bathrobe and large-framed glasses, sort of like Elliot Gould in "Oceans 11." Here's what he had to say.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

'Honey, did you forget to change the litter box again?'

Sure, the downstairs bathroom could use a new paint job. That living room couch has seen better days. The paneling in the basement looks like it was shipped in directly from the set of "Happy Days." But look at the bright side: At least your house hasn't been blasted with 3,000 gallons of raw sewage.

Have a nice day.

They should have gone with their original plan to do 'Mystic Pizza: The Musical'

OK, so Julia Roberts didn't exactly set Broadway on fire Wednesday night with her debut in "Three Days of Rain." But the reviews weren't all bad. For instance, I combed through several dozen of them and was able to glean the following very positive comments:

• "Not once did Ms. Roberts fall or bump into furniture."
• "It was reminiscent of her scintillating performance in 'Pretty Woman,' except without the charisma or the hooker outfits."
• "The intermission was dazzling."
• "The way she mumbled so you couldn't hear what she was saying really stimulated the imagination. For instance, I spent much of the second act imagining what might happen if I choked on my Jujubes."
• "It was the best performance I'd seen on Broadway all night, except for her co-stars."

Reportedly with fava beans and a nice chianti

I don't know about you, but I find it highly disturbing that the mainstream U.S. press has yet to jump on reports that Tom Cruise is planning to eat his newborn baby's placenta. It's a placenta coverup, people! Thank God we have the wacky international press to report these things, as well as the latest updates on who's wearing hotpants.

This week's column:Not everybody must get Stoned

OK, I'll admit it: I feel bad for Sharon Stone. Not bad enough to go see her movie, which judging from the reviews is so awful it might cause my eyeballs to burn out of my head. But maybe bad enough to send a fruit basket.

I'm referring of course to "Basic Instinct 2," which recorded an opening-weekend gross of $3.2 million. To put that number in perspective, a blank screen could probably gross $3.2 million if it had the right marketing campaign. ("It's the blank screen like you've never seen it before!" etc.)

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

To which Donald Rumsfeld replied, 'Don't let our missiles hit you on the way out'

More good news from the Middle East: Iran has gone nuclear! But just to show that they're being more than reasonable about the whole thing, Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has released the following actual statment: "Our answer to those who are angry about Iran obtaining the full nuclear cycle is one phrase, we say: Be angry and die of this anger." Which would presumably save them the trouble of having to blow them up.

Of course, it could be worse: He could have used that popular Iranian rejoinder, "May your anger eat at your innards like a thousand hungry maggots." Although that one they usually reserve for wedding and funerals.

'And that Weissmuller swung both ways, if you get my drift'

Cheetah lives!

It's just his career that's dead.

It was probably those roaming charges that got him

A man in Malaysia has received a $218 trillion phone bill. In a related story, Democrats in Congress have accused George Bush of running up the national debt by using his government-issued cell phone to call the psychic hotline.

This week's column:All we need is bugs

As my regular readers may recall, I’m fairly convinced that the end result of all scientific experimentation will be the development of an unstoppable robot army that will eventually enslave us to do its bidding. I figure our only hope is to unintentionally wipe ourselves out with a genetically engineered super-virus before that happens, leaving the robots to spend their days playing chess and vacuuming.

But since the technology for that is apparently not quite ready, the BBC is now reporting that Pentagon scientists are instead developing an "army of cyber-insects." This is a spectacular idea; the only thing I can think of that would be better might be to mount little machine guns on their backs -- that way they could strafe us when we come after them with the Bug-B-Gone.

Apparently the cyber-bugs would be used to check out explosives and send transmissions, if scientists can get them to work; according to the BBC, a similar project with wasps failed "when they flew off to feed and mate." Interestingly, the same problem has also kept scientists from developing an effective college student.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Please, for God's sake, take Ann Curry with you

Katie Couric has announced that she'll be instituting the following changes on the CBS Evening News, effective immediately:

1. Nightly segments on pilates;
2. Thalia Assuras to start cooking with celebrity chefs;
3. Outdoor Concert Series (summers only);
4. Fat weatherman;
5. Swingin' knee-high boots for Russ Mitchell.

And after they have sex, they all marry deadbeat hillbillies

Just as I've always suspected ... It's all Britney's fault.

This week's column:Film smokers set fine example

As you probably know, our legislators here in Massachusetts face a lot of challenges. For instance, they’ve recently been debating a bill that would prohibit drivers from holding a cell phone in their hands or "with any other part of the body." Just imagining which other body parts those could be would be enough to rattle even the most seasoned representatives for almost an entire Caribbean junket.

But it’s not just those high-profile laws that legislators must contend with. For instance, they recently considered an obscure proposal that would "tax" the entertainment industry $10,000 each time any of the leading actors in a production are seen smoking cigarettes. It’s a different approach; most observers expected the next state funding initiative would be making elementary school students sell cartons of Marlboros to people coming out of the Keno parlors.

Of course, legislators didn’t exactly fall all over each other to support this measure, which was proposed by a constituent from Andover; in fact, they ran from it like tobacco executives running from Mike Wallace. That could be because it’s probably kind of, you know, unconstitutional, and also not a good way to get on the good side of the film industry, the tobacco lobby or Keith Richards.

For the rest of this year's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Thankfully, Michael Douglas hasn't taken his clothes off since during the Clinton Administration

Sharon Stone

'Basic Instinct 2'

Publicity Tour Itinerary:

• Sunday, April 2: Cut ribbon at new Safeway in Ocean Bay, Long Island -- naked!
• Wednesday, April 5: PETA lecture -- naked!
• Friday, April 7: Address San Francisco Bay Area Lions Clubs -- naked!
• Week of April 10: Oprah, Ellen, The View -- all naked!
• Thursday, April 13: Leave impression of private area in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.

UPDATE: The grosses are in, and apparently the movie grossed a paltry $3 million at the box office opening weekend. Unfortunately, there's no way for Sharon to get more naked than she already has, so the marketers are stumped.

Local man writes fake news, wins prizes and fame

Like to write fake news? No, not the kind of fake news you read in most newspapers -- I mean fake funny news, like you might see in The Onion. Well, then I have some good, uh, news: My friends over at IGotNewsForYou.com have launched their second-ever Funny Fake News Writing Contest, meaning you can win actual prizes for your fakery, as opposed to inspiring a lawsuit, which is what usually happens.

Get the details by clicking here, then start faking it! Like I do every stinking day of my life.

Oddly enough, the charge was not impersonating an officer

The rumors are true: The cop from the Village People has been arrested.

And in a related story, the construction worker has been pinned under a backhoe.

If this gets out, you can expect a lot of men to move to New Delhi

This story is bound to help foster understanding of Islam among the uninformed heathen in America and its environs. Apparently a man in India accidentally divorced his wife by saying the magic words three times in his sleep -- under Islamic law, apparently all a husband needs to do to end his marriage is say "I divorce you" three times. This would explain the serious shortage of divorce attorneys in the Middle East.

It seems religious leaders told the couple that if they want to remarry, they would have to be apart for at least 100 days, and that the wife would also have to spend a night with another man and then be divorced by him. Coincidentally, this is exactly what happened with Britney Spears' first marriage.

This week's column:Can't stop the 'Musical'

Well, iTunes has made its first full-length movie available to download for your iPod, and it's Disney Channel's "High School Musical." This seems like a logical stopgap until Disney finds a way to deposit the movie directly into kids' nervous systems, maybe through little "High School Musical" vitamins shaped like well-groomed teenagers.

The iTunes announcement is just the latest step toward complete world domination by "High School Musical," the channel's highest-rated movie ever and the nation's No. 1 album this week. Disney seems to be approaching that goal with a strategy similar to that of the long-nosed guy in "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang," who captured kids in big nets and, presumably, ate them.

My daughter, who's 6, loved this movie before it even aired, since her young brain was able to piece it together almost in its entirety from the lengthy promos Disney Channel aired for months in advance. If you're unfamiliar with Disney Channel programming, it consists primarily of corny series featuring attractive young actors who seem to have been placed into some kind of indentured servitude - you can imagine CEO Bob Iger herding them all into pens at the end of filming every night.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

And as time has borne out, everyone really is a Captain Kirk

Whatever your Sunday afternoon plans were, it's time to change them. From 2-3 p.m., VH1 will be showing non-stop repeat viewings of the video for "99 Luftballons" (both English and German versions, natch). The VH1 people said something about it somehow aiding Katrina victims, but I think it's really because it's been forever since anyone's done a good song about balloons triggering a nuclear war. Now if only they'd do it for "Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats ...

Fortunately for him, nobody has ever read Allure magazine

Well, we can all rest easy now that Desperate Housewife Eva Longoria has declared that her boyfriend, NBA star Tony Parker, is super-fantabulous in the bedroom, bringing her to new heights of ecstasy every night with little to no effort. This should put a stop to the street riots and stock market crashes that occurred when Longoria told Allure magazine that Parker was so inexperienced he thought foreplay had something to do with golf.

Meanwhile, I remain shocked -- shocked! -- that TV stars and NBA players are having sexual relations out of wedlock. Next someone will tell me that nice Snoop Dogg is smoking the demon weed.

It's either a baby or a convertible

BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT
Donald and Melania Knauss Trump announce the birth of their son, Barron William, March 20 at a New York hospital so exclusive they wouldn’t let you in if blood were spurting from your carotid artery.

Mr. Trump announced that the baby was “great, super, spectacular, the greatest, best baby ever.” He was delivered by Dr. Sydney Rosenberg after the Trumps’ previous physician, Stanley Greenblatt, was determined by Mr. Trump to be “really, really stupid … just really an idiot” and ejected from the hospital, dragging his little wheeled suitcase behind him.

Barron William joins several step-siblings, two ex-wives, dozens of servants, and former “Apprentice” contestant Chris Shelton, who Mr. Trump has let live in his stable ever since he sobbed in the boardroom. Workers are still completing the baby’s nursery, which will be more than 2,000 square feet and is being built under the icy-cold glare of Carolyn Kepcher.

Mr. Trump announced the birth yesterday on the “Imus in the Morning” program, at which time host Don Imus congratulated him and then called the baby an “empty-headed moron,” at which time he was scolded by his sidekick, Charles, and apologized.

And if President Bush suddenly announces he's paying off the deficit in cash, it's time to worry

Those counterfeiters are at it again! It apparently wasn't enough for them to print fake Euros with big-breasted naked women on them. Now they've gone and done up a phony billion-dollar bill. So please, convenience store clerks of America: If someone tries to pass a billion-dollar bill to buy a Clark bar, please make sure it's real before you let him walk out with his $999,999,999.35 in change.

This week's column:You are getting sleeeeepy ...

The countdown is on: It’s only a few short weeks until the start of daylight-saving time, when we’re so excited about the days being longer that we all fall collectively asleep at our desks, our heads hitting the keyboard with such force that old muffin crumbs lodge themselves in our jowls.

It’s the great daylight-saving time irony. We should be celebrating the end of that period when the only light outside after 3 p.m. comes from the glowing embers generated by the smokers. Instead, though, we spend the day reeling over that one lost hour, like the sleep-deprived people in your college psychology textbook who started speaking gibberish and thinking they were Mao Tse-tung.

If you think I’m exaggerating, check out how the car accident statistics go through the roof for the first Monday after the time change. It’s bizarre, given that it seems to me you can lose an hour of sleep any other time and it’s no big deal - for instance, I recently stayed up an hour late to watch the end of "Eight Legged Freaks" on cable, with no noticeable effects other than a new respect for David Arquette. And yet that one lost hour every April turns all of society into the old guy asleep at a stoplight in Coral Gables.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

What's yankin' Annie Proulx's chain today?

This just in: "Brokeback Mountain" author Annie Proulx, fresh off her scathing essay in The Gaurdian about the Academy giving the Best Picture Oscar to "Crash," has released the following list of cinematic atrocities that really push her buttons:

• "That Tim Burton 'Shaggy Dog' movie. I mean, a guy turns into a dog? Come on."
• "Have you seen 'Big Momma's House 2'? Like anyone would believe that's a real black woman."
• "Those movie popcorn sizes -- who can eat that much popcorn? They give you like 10 pounds of it to justify charging you eight bucks, but I'd rather have a smaller popcorn and pay less money."
• "'Failure to Launch' -- you can't see it, but I'm putting my finger down my throat."
• "People who pronounce my name 'Prolcks.' Don't they see the 'x' in there?"

Unfortunately, only dogs can hear them

It took a while, but nature has finally developed an ultrasonic frog. For a sample of how these bizarre creatures sound, click here.

And yet Andy Rooney refuses to step down. It's a cruel world.

Mike Wallace, you lazy bastard.

Welcome back, your Fo' Fo' was your ticket out

OK, I stood by when they cast Johnny Knoxville in the movie version of "The Dukes of Hazzard," but this time I can't remain silent. Ice Cube as Gabe Kotter? I hope no one will consider me racist when I point out that Ice Cube is not even close to being a wry, avuncular Jew. This is like casting Adam Sandler as "Shaft." (Although granted, that might be kind of funny.)

I'm fearing the worst:
Gabe: Julie, did I ever tell you about my Uncle Max?
Julie: No Gabe ... Tell me about your Uncle Max.
Gabe: Well, then get off my my d&%$, ni&%$!, and tell your b&%$! to come here!*

I can't wait to see the next TV remake, when they cast Ludacris as Barney Fife, and he finally gets to pop a cap in Otis's ass.

*Actual Ice Cube lyric. Comic strip swear symbols added.

They grow 'em big out there in Hawaii

It's not fair -- when I show off my five-pound monster mango, I'm threatened with a restraining order.

If you need me, I'll be in the tub

Why does this never happen to me?

Frankly, all Euros look fake to me

Blast those dastardly counterfeiters! This time they've come up with something foolproof: Fake Euros with big-breasted naked women on them. Presumably they pass them at convenience stores, and while the clerks are drooling and stuttering, the villains walk off with all the jerky they can carry. (Do they have jerky in Europe?)

This week's column:Who's on First (Amendment)?

Last week, a new study revealed that only a quarter of Americans can name more than one of the freedoms guaranteed by the First Amendment. Yes, I know what you're thinking: There's more than one?

And the answer is, yes there are, but the study said that twice as many people could name members of TV's Simpson family than could name two or more of those freedoms. Which, granted, isn't an especially fair comparison, given that "The Simpsons" has been on for so long now that it's impossible not to know them; it's rumored that Woodrow Wilson ended his 1912 debate by telling Taft to eat his shorts.

But it wasn't just the venerable Simpsons that people were more familiar with; the study also said that more people could name the three "American Idol" judges than name three First Amendment rights. (Which is ironic, considering that Simon is actually exercising at least one of those rights every time he tells a contestant that if she'd sung like that 2,000 years ago, people would have stoned her to death.)

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

We'd like to get one of these against almost everybody we know

This just in! A court commissioner has signed off on a three-year restraining order that states Paris Hilton must stay at least 100 yards from event planner Brian Quintana unless they are attending the same party, in which case the distance can be decreased to 25 yards.

No word on who gets custody of the bean dip.

This week's column:Candlepins didn't bowl him over

I grew up in New York, where we engaged in what people in Eastern Massachusetts refer to as "big balls bowling." Despite being vaguely suggestive, this is a pretty accurate moniker.

Here -- as I discovered recently when I lent my bowling skills to a charity bowl-a-thon -- the balls are anything but big. And while I tried, I simply could not master the finesse being displayed by the obviously semi-professional bowlers in the other lanes. Quite to the contrary, my ball would tend to hit the floor with the force of a small nuclear explosion, sending a thundering echo throughout the alley and eliciting actual cries of pain from small children.

The experience was somewhat demoralizing considering that, in my younger (and bigger-balled) days, I was an actual league bowler. Yes, as a high school freshman my friend Mark Pengelski signed me up for a team he was on with Joe DiVestea, who had a habit of clapping to himself for no apparent reason. Mark did this despite the fact that I had told him, in no uncertain terms, that bowling was out of the question -- I had too many other things to do, like homework and finishing puberty.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Well, maybe there was no trash can around

Hats off the the Detroit 12-year-old who stuck a wad of gum on a $1.5 million painting. It's that kind of gumption that's sorely lacking in today's youth. Get it? Gumption? Oh, never mind.

Luckily their TVs were washed away, so she couldn't make them watch tapes of 'Britney & Kevin: Chaotic'

OK, so the bad news is that many victims of Hurricane Katrina still have no homes, their area remains devastated and their aid is running out. But the good news is -- Britney Spears has taken them shopping!

Well, four of them, anyway. But give her time: As Britney herself said, "Rome wasn't spilt in a day!" OK, I'm just assuming she'd say that.

Anyway, here's a quick rundown of what she bought for the flood victims:

• Gum, which she helpfully pre-chewed so they could sell it on eBay.
• Copies of "Oops, I Did it Again" (only $4.99 in the bargain bin at Target).
• Their own personal Kevin Federlines.
• Baby safety seats for everybody!
• Matching outfits.

This week's column:Their best shot at dumping Dick

Of all the ways Dick Cheney could have picked to get himself out of office, one that I wouldn’t have predicted is shooting a lawyer. Not that it was a bad idea; it just seems a little obvious.

Of course, they have to find some way to appoint somebody like Mitt Romney vice president before 2008, to give a Republican an incumbents’-eye view in the next presidential election. After those initial weasly accounts about how Harry Whittington had jumped in front of the quail like an overprotective Secret Service agent, it looked like Cheney might have found his way out.

But then Dick took the blame and is soldiering on for now, so it’s up to Karl Rove and the Republican political machine (motto: "Leaks? We got ’em") to come up a new way for Cheney to step aside for the "right reasons." Preferably something that will result in the vice president leaving office but still looking decent and manly, like getting run over by a team of stallions.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Another reason to go for the milkshakes made of vegetable byproducts instead

OK, let's play "Guess the real headline." Which of these turned up on abcnews.com this week?

1. Household cleaning products may explode, say scientists
2. Study: Soft drink 'fizz' can lead to brain aneurysms
3. Fast-food ice dirtier than toilet water
4. New breed of lice grow to size of dimes

Yes I know, all seem pretty much equally unsettlingly possible, but the correct answer is 3 -- turns out fast food ice is dirtier than toilet water, at least according to a Florida seventh grader's science project, which found E.coli bacteria in the ice from five restaurants in South Florida. "These [bacteria] don't belong there," said Dr. David Katz, medical contributor to "Good Morning America," proving once again why he deserves his astronomical salary.

Anyway, three cheers to the seventh grader, and I was wondering if he could next test the fries to see what they're dirtier than. I'd make some guesses, but I'm afraid you might be eating.

I guess chanting 'Harvard Sucks!' at the pep rally must have been the last straw

Soon-to-be former Harvard President Lawrence Summers, we hardly knew ye.

They're like Sam and Diane, except much, much less attractive

Donald Trump and Martha Stewart: When will you two just admit it? You're in love with each other! Stop torturing yourselves and just allow yourselves to be happy!

As you've probably heard, Martha Stewart complained that her "Apprentice" floundered because Donald Trump reneged on a promise to take his version off the air; then Trump fired back that Martha's show "lacked mood, temperament and just about everything a show needs for success." Is it getting hot in here?

Alas, it's bound to take a few more rounds before these lovebirds finally get from the boardroom to the bedroom. But if Trump winds up suing her for $5 billion, we'll know they're close -- for him, that counts as foreplay.

This week's column:A very merry unschooling to you

Say what you want about CNN, I’ve always been reasonably sure they weren’t making stuff up. Somehow I can’t picture Wolf Blitzer and Christiane Amanpour high-fiving and yelling "Suckers!" every time the camera goes off.

And yet I saw something on CNN.com this week that I’m convinced can’t be real. They were talking about a new trend called "unschooling," wherein kids, not parents or teachers, decide what they want to learn. These are presumably the same kids who, if given their choice of vegetables, will pick McNuggets.

To read the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Says here you got the bargain plan, so we'll just be saving the first floor today

Disturbing Public Safety Trend of the Week: Fire departments that will only save your house if you've paid your membership dues. I'm not sure if there's a firefighter's code, but if there is one, I'm guessing that ain't in it.

Apparently Bibaldo Rueda of Monett, Mo. offered to pay the dues as the fire gutted his home, but the Monett Rural Fire Department does not have a policy for on-the-spot billing. I'm sure they called him the next business day to set up an account, though. Well, they would have if he still had a phone.

'Death to Denmark' just doesn't have the same oomph!

Offensive Muhammad cartoons update: Angry mobs have now taken to the streets in Pakistan, where they've burned down a hotel, two banks, a KFC restaurant and the office of a Norwegian cell phone company. Although that last one may just have been because of all those roaming charges.

Apparently this crowd was working itself into a frenzy by chanting "Death to America," even though the vast majority of American newspapers have refused to print the cartoons. This leads me to believe that "Death to America" must just be the go-to catch phrase for radical Muslims -- it's their "Yankees Suck!"

Meanwhile, for some reason there continues to be next to no protest over a truly offensive cartoon.

Next week, Alberto Gonzales will be in front of the Senate to explain why it was perfectly legal

So Vice President Dick Cheney has shot somebody. Franky, I'm shocked. That it took this long, I mean.

This week's column:So what's the deal with Valentine's Day?

It’s time once again for "Mr. Holiday" to answer your holiday queries. This week: Valentine’s Day.

***

Dear Mr. Holiday:

Is it true that Valentine’s Day was made up by the people at Hallmark just to sell cards?

Curious in Cambridge

Dear Curious:

Let’s face it: When it comes to shady, covert, possibly paramilitary organizations pulling the strings of national policy from behind the scenes, there are none more ruthless than Hallmark. And they aren’t just determining what holidays we should celebrate; word has it they received a no-bid government contract to distribute "Thinking of You" cards in Abu Ghraib prison.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Actually, we're pretty sure the baby was driving

LOS ANGELES -- Britney Spears has released the following things she is sorry for, to go along with her apology for driving with her infant baby on her lap:

• "The time I let him ride the giant boa constrictor I wore at the VMAs."
• "The whole skydiving incident."
• "The time I dangled himout the balcony window. Wait ... that wasn't me."
• "Allowing him repeated face time with his crazy hillbilly father."
• "The nine months I let him listen to my music while he was in the womb."

This week's column:Everybody wants to get into the facts

I have a confession to make: Some of the claims I've made in my columns over the years may have been slightly exaggerated. For instance, there's a chance I may actually be a large Latino man named Carlo "The Bull" Esposito.

I figured I should disclose this in the wake of what happened with James Frey, who with his memoir "A Million Little Pieces" ruined it for all the other "non-fiction" writers (former junkies, abuse survivors, humorists) who had been planning to make things up.

Of course, Frey (who at last check was claiming he thought "memoir" was French for "memo") has been in big trouble since The Smoking Gun Web site revealed his story was embellished a tad. Not that he's in hot water with his publisher, especially, although it's rumored they have serious plans to wade through the ocean of cash he's made them and give him a semi-firm knuckle-rattling.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Also, Steve Jobs will come to your house and turn it down himself, just before he smacks you with an iBook

Well, it was bound to happen: A California man is suing Apple because he says the company didn't warn him that using their iPod to pipe extremely loud music directly into his ear canal could possible have an affect on his hearing. We can only imagine what will happen when he realizes that leaving the headphones in 24 hours a day causes them to graft on to your ears, turning you into a half-human cyborg. I smell class action!

The kicker is that the iPod manual does in fact warn customers about the potential for permanent hearing loss if the player’s earphones are used a high volume -- but the complaint alleges that Apple "did not specify what constituted a high volume." Thus future versions of the manual will include the phrase, "loud enough to keep you from hearing the crickets chirping in your empty head, you &%$#! moron."

'And no, I still haven't seen Brokeback Mountain'

The State of the Union speech had to be halted
momentarily when Vice President Dick Cheney
remembered he'd left his pacemaker back in the bunker.

Favorite quotes from President Bush's State of the Union speech:

• "We're gonna have to face it, we're addicted to love. Er, foreign oil."
• "Cars of the future will be powered by ethanol made from weed. Weeds! I meant to say weeds!"
• "The state of our union is strong. I'd even go so far as to say it's wicked strong."
• "We need to encourage children to take more math and science -- and not just gut courses, like that geology class I squeaked through at Yale."
• "Hey, Sam! Like the robe! What say we get together after the speech and roll Ted Kennedy?"
• "Anybody got some weed? Weeds! I meant to say weeds! Oh hell, just make it a bourbon."

They have news for us

Attention, funny writing type people. I recently got word from the fine, upstanding (i.e., charges have yet to be filed) folks at IGotNewsForYou.com that they want YOU! To do their job for them, apparently.

And their job is to write, funny, personalized satirical news stories tailored to individuals. For instance, in my case they might write, "Peter Chianca was seriously injured yesterday when his blog fell on top of him, trapping him for several hours before he was discovered by his golden retriever. Rumors that Chianca had been shaking the blog to get it to release a trapped bag of Doritos have yet to be confirmed by authorities." Etc.

They can't pay you, but here's what they can do: Absolutely nothing. But have pity on them and write something before they have to give up and go back to accounting.

This week's column:Not playing with a full décor

When it comes to home décor, I’m not quite sure how you’d describe my household, although if pressed I’d peg it at somewhere between Early Nickelodeon and Modern Golden Retriever. Not that having a hip, trendy home isn’t a priority for us -- it’s just tough to make that work when the central piece of furniture in your living area is a Fisher Price Sweet Magic Kitchen.

Then there are the dogs, the aforementioned golden retriever and a black Lab, who dictate that any home-decorating items that could be mistaken for chew toys (so all of them) must be placed above chest level. (Granted, this is not a new problem; rumor has it that Ming was constantly having his vases gnawed into paste by the Shih-Tzus.) The dogs, of course, tend to become part of the décor themselves for hours at a time, to the point where my kids have been known to have picnics on them.

I bring this all up because I recently received an e-mail from someplace called "Environmental Graphics" about "What’s hot in home décor for 2006." I don’t usually read e-mails like that, but I couldn’t help but take notice this time when I saw that in 2006, "orange will literally be on fire." I’m thinking that has to affect your insurance rates.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

We hear his cell mate has already started referring to him as 'fat, naked guy'

Amazingly, "Survivor" Richard Hatch was convicted today, somehow failing to pull off his deviously clever scheme of winning a million dollars in front of everybody in the entire world and then not paying taxes on it. What did he think the IRS was watching? UPN?

Anyway, in case you haven't seen it, here's the transcript of the prosecutor's closing argument:

"I plead with the jury tonight, to think a little bit about the island that we have been on. This island is pretty much full of only two things: snakes and rats. And in the end of Mother Nature, we have Richard the Snake, who knowingly went after prey; and Kelly, who turned into the Rat, that ran around like the rats do on this island, trying to run from the snake. And I feel we owe it to the island's spirit that we have learned, have come to know, to let it be in the end the way Mother Nature intended it to be: for the Snake to eat the Rat."

Oh wait, that's what Sue said on "Survivor." Well, I guess we can only hope that Kelly goes to jail next.

Somewhere, Michigan J. Frog is drunk and surly

Suggested slogans for the CW, the network that will take the place of UPN and the WB:

• "Don't worry, the layoffs will include the people who came up with The Mullets!"
• "Enough with the letters, we're still not bringing back Star Trek: Enterprise!"
• "Where WWF Smackdown meets the Gilmore Girls ... And we don't mean figuratively!"
• "Watch on Day 1 when we burn all the 'Britney & Kevin: Chaotic' tapes!"
• "Now with twice as many people not watching!"

This week's column:'Sorry, but my dad ate my homework'

I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but I was helping my first-grade daughter with her homework recently and was surprised to actually find myself, well, stumped. Not that I didn’t know that was going to happen -- I just didn’t think it would happen so soon. I thought I could make it at least until she needed help identifying frog organs or finding Jakarta.

Granted, she was doing math, which is not my strongest subject -- I recall somewhere between trigonometry and calculus someone brought up imaginary numbers, and I basically gave up. Luckily I’ve never encountered an imaginary number in real life, unless you count my salary. But my wife and I have high hopes that our children will be more math-savvy, in order that they may never have to offer to analyze Proust for food.

And I’m happy to report that my daughter had no trouble with the problem that stumped me, which involved the difference between faces and flat surfaces on three-dimensional shapes. I figure she’s learning this because it’s on the MCAS test somewhere, unlike the things we learned in first grade, like how to make Christmas tree ornaments out of plastic bread-bag closers.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

A sentiment immediately echoed by Julia Roberts' children, Godzilla and Megalon

At last, a cause I can get behind! I'm talking of course about the efforts of Peaches Honeyblossom Michelle Charlotte Angel Vanessa Geldof, daughter of Sir Bob Geldof, who is speaking out against celebrities giving their children ridiculous names. (Although frankly Peaches doesn't have a heck of a lot to complain about, given that nowhere in that list is Superman's Kryptonian birth name. I'm just saying.)

Geldof (the one named after fruit) says that "my weird name has haunted me all my life," a fate sure to befall the likes of Tallulah Belle Moore Willis, Apple Paltrow Martin and Sage Moonblood Stallone as well. Not to mention the Holmes-Cruise baby, whose name they're rumored to have narrowed down to "Top Gun" and "L. Ron Hubbard."

Spock ... the ... pain! The ... unbelievable ... pain!

I can’t believe I missed out on buying William Shatner’s kidney stone! Blast you, Goldenpalace.com! Blast your deep pockets and your unexplainable fixation on the bizarre and outlandish!

In fact, we can only assume that the Goldenpalace.com strange purchases department is plotting as we speak to pounce on the following objects the minute they go on sale to the general public:

• Leonard Nimoy’s appendix (estimated cost: $20,000)
• James Doohan’s adenoids ($17,500)
• The guy who played Q’s liposuction fat ($8,000)
• Ricardo Montalban’s fingernails ($9,500)
• Jonathan Frakes’ right kidney ($7,250)
• Something that fell out of one of the Tribbles ($27,000)
• Wil Wheaton, in his entirety ($12.50)

Although for some reason, Bob Iger isn't returning his calls

It was bound to happen sooner or later: Michael Jackson is job hunting. I know, because he sent this blog his resume:

MICHAEL JACKSON
Somewhere in Bahrain
kingofpop@gmail.com

Objective: To obtain a position that would utilize my many skills, including building fake theme parks, walking backwards while making it look like I'm walking forward, and dangling babies from balconies.

Experience: Released 17 No. 1 pop singles; was named "King of Pop" by myself; creeped out world with freaky public marriage with Elvis' daughter; developed several long, meaningful, non-physical (although they may or may not have involved liquor and porno magazines) relationships with young boys; beat the rap.

References: Ahmed Abu Bakr Janahi, "theme park developer" (not a terrorist); Thomas Mesereau, attorney; Bubbles; Johnnie Cochran (deceased).

Limitations: Please, no work that would put undue strain on my "nose."

Heh heh ... He said 'united front'

Strippers are usually considered self-centered types, maybe because it's hard to think of many causes that seem to really rally them as a group -- you know, things like the need for environmentally friendly nipple tassels or warmer poles, that kind of thing.

That's why it's so heart-warming to see them come out showing a united front in their battle against New Jersey's pending smoking ban. About 700 of them turned out to protest last week, saying things like, "If they take smoking away, I am not going to be able to support my two kids." And as any parent can attest, that's a tough conversation to have with your children -- the one about how Mom can't make enough money dancing naked since they won't allow the men to smoke anymore, I mean.

Meanwhile, it might be time for us, as a society, to ask, why would men need to smoke in strip clubs in the first place? Just viewing all the undulating bosoms isn't enough? There is such a thing as being greedy.

This week's column:Come and meet those semi-famous feet

OK, I'll admit it: While the rest of you were watching PBS documentaries about Galileo last summer, I was watching "Dancing with the Stars." And by "the rest of you" I of course mean, nobody.

Because judging from the ratings, everyone with a television was watching "Dancing," in which celebrities -- the current definition of which seems to be, "slightly more famous than the chairman of your Board of Selectmen" -- are paired with professional ballroom dancers and put in front of a camera, where they perform brain surgery.

Just kidding! No network would really do that -- there's very little chance of someone's top accidentally falling off during brain surgery. No, actually they dance. They do this to varying degrees of success, ranging from passable to what Michael Flatley might look like if he died and was reincarnated as a living-dead zombie.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Please, somebody make sure he takes a limo to all of them

Ten shows at Madison Square Garden?? Who knew we missed Billy Joel that much? By "we" I mean the people who remember the last time he released a new album, a number that I presumed was dwindling every day, like World War II veterans.

I guess it may not neccessarily be hip, but apparently there are a lot more people out there than you'd think who spent hours upon hours in their dorm rooms memorizing every lyric to "We Didn't Start the Fire."

Um ... Not me. Other people.

Unfortunately, the Holmes-Cruise baby will have been whisked away to the top of Scientology Mountain by then

A hearty congratulations to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, who confirmed today that they're expecting a creepy, duplicitious, giant-lipped baby. If they hurry they can still reserve a spot in toddler therapy with the Spears-Federbaby and Kal-El Cage.

To ease you into it, the Web site has an unintelligible foreign accent

I just found out that you can now place orders at Pizza Hut through the Internet. I have mixed emotions about this. Yes, you can see little pictures of all the items before you order, which is very helpful for people who have never seen a pizza. But isn’t part of the fun of carry-out running the phone-order gauntlet? It usually goes something like this:

Customer: I’d like one large pepperoni pizza.
Helpful fast-food employee: That’s one cinnamon sticks?
Customer: No, one large PEPPERONI PIZZA.
Employee: Is that a More4ALL™ Pizza, a Pan Pizza, a Hand-Tossed Style Pizza, a Thin 'N Crispy®, a Stuffed Crust Pizza, a 4forALL® Pizza or The Full House XL Pizza™?
Customer: Um … Just a plain pizza.
Employee: Please hold.

On the other hand, it’s one step closer to being able to live in an airtight coccoon with wires coming out of our heads, so that’s always good.

Intergalactic defense attorneys have come out wholly in favor of the idea

Just when things were looking particularly bleak for the space program, good news: They're considering allowing alcohol on the International Space Station. And you know what that means: much better parties! ("Dude! Watch me float upside down again!")

Apparently Russian authorities think allowing cosmonauts to drink would "restore their strength," much in the same way vodka helps Russians get through those long, Siberian winters. All they'll need is some friendly sheep and felt boots and they'll really feel right at home.

Unfortunately, the buzzkills at NASA are still advocating for a "total ban" of alcohol in space, probably out of some uptight notion that the astronauts will get drunk and drive into a comet. Hopefuly they can reach a compromise -- maybe they could at least allow those blue drinks that Whoopi Goldberg used to serve on "Star Trek: The Next Generation."

Warning: This blog has sharp edges

A shout-out to our friends at the Michigan Lawsuit Abuse Watch, who recently announced the winner of their Wacky Warning Label Contest: a warning not to use a 1,000-degree heat gun as a hair dryer. As funny as that might be.

A good winner, but what about these popular favorites?

• Stapler: "Not to be used to hold down cowlicks."
• Car: "Do not drive while blindfolded or unconscious."
• Mr. Potato Head: "Not for consumption; will melt if baked, fried or julliened."
• Nuclear waste: "Consumption by spiders, ants and/or alligators may lead to grotesque, monstrous mutations."
• Lion: "Teeth are sharp; do not stick your head in mouth."
• .50-caliber assault rifle: "Warning: May vaporize deer and/or hunting companions."
• Presidential candidate: "May raise taxes; elect at your own risk."
• "The View": "May cause extreme nausea."
• Vending machine: "Do not pull over on top of yourself, you &%$#! idiot."

This week's column:You could have predicted this

As regular readers of this column know, this is the time of year when I like to look back on my predictions from 12 months ago to see whether my keen journalistic insight served me well in prognosticating the major events for the coming year, or if they worked out pretty much like everything else in my life.

So let's see what I had to say about 2005:

"It will be another quiet year for natural disasters, and what minor incidents do occur will be handled expertly by the dedicated professionals at FEMA."

In retrospect, this may have been wishful thinking.

"The bigger the better -- low gas prices will spur the development of an SUV roughly the size of an armored troop carrier."

I may have been wrong about the gas prices, but I think the SUV cut me off on Route 128 yesterday.

"A funny little animal will become the movie star icon of the year with the unexpected success of the documentary, "March of the Ferrets."

Of course it would turn out to be penguins ... They've always had better PR. And they have that whole not-looking-like-rats thing going for them.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

In the Mix for 2006

Need your annual fix of what’s hot and what’s not in society, culture, fashion and life in general? Never fear, "What’s In/What’s Out" is back to provide you with more cocktail party fodder than you’ll know what to do with. And by the way, cocktail parties are in.

Life in the USA
It took a while, but being politically correct is out! We’re all turning back into Archie Bunkers; if you’re out of practice you may want to review the 1978 edition of the tasteless epithets handbook. Meanwhile, the remaining politically correct people are barricading themselves in Harvard Square, like the survivors in "Dawn of the Dead."

For the rest of this year's "What's In/What's Out," click here.

This week's column:Some handy tips on what was tops

It's that time of year again, when major media outlets release their annual lists of "top stories." This offers them the chance to put the important news events of the year into proper context, and to reiterate all the times the president screwed up.

But how often do these reports ignore the stories that really say something about the way we live? In other words, the stories that I wanted to write humor columns about, but found I only had two paragraphs' worth of jokes. With that in mind, here are the At Large top five news stories of 2005:

5.) Chinese man pulls car with ears while standing on eggs. That's the type of headline you don't see nearly often enough in the biased liberal media. But if he were standing on the Koran, well, you can bet it would have made all the papers.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

This week's column: Oh, 'Carol'!

Each holiday season brings certain things that are unavoidable. For instance, at some point in December you're going to turn on the radio and hear "Dominic, the Italian Christmas Donkey." And some of those times, if you're distracted enough, you may listen to almost the whole thing before remembering to change the station. That's three minutes of your life you'll never get back.

Another thing you can count on is to be bombarded with umpteen productions of "A Christmas Carol" - this year there are no fewer than four on the North Shore alone, not to mention the film versions with the likes of Mr. Magoo, Mickey Mouse and the Muppets. (Granted, Charles Dickens is believed to have commented to William Makepeace Thackeray, "My 'Christmas Carol' is pretty good on paper, but with a fake felt frog ... well, that would be something.")

If we do have to have so many versions, though, wouldn't it be nice if they did something different for a change? For instance, does it always have to be ghosts? Why not ever the Wolf Man? And that ending where Scrooge gets all nice -- just once I'd like to see him wake up, down a snifter of schnapps and foreclose on Cratchit's house.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Football without booze is like baseball without ... booze

Overheard during the fourth quarter of the alcohol-free Jets-Pats matchup:

Fan No. 1: Delightful contest, wouldn't you say?
Fan No. 2: Quite, quite ... Oh dear, it appears the Jets have fumbled the pigskin.
Fan No. 1: Bad form!
Fan No. 2: Wait, I'm mistaken -- they've recovered.
Fan No. 1: Jolly good. (polite applause)
Fan No. 3: Bollinger, you suck!! Pats rule!! %$#%@! %$#%@! %$#%@!
Fan No. 1: I believe that fellow has snuck in some libations.
Fan No. 2: Grab his flask! (riot ensues)

Before you send someone out to check for me in the trunks of nearby abandoned vehicles ...

Hello, and please excuse the pathetic lack of posting on this blog of late. Work responsibilities have reared their ugly head, which I know probably comes as a surprise to those of you who figured that being custodian of this blog must be a full-time job in and of itself. Plus there have been some other interruptions, like all the wrapping. Oh Lord, the wrapping.

Expect periodic postings whenever I sneak some blog time in, and for regular entries to resume after Jan. 1. It's my New Year's Resolution, and I always keep those, which would explain why I'm so slim and have so many worthwhile hobbies.

This week's column:It's beginning to look a lot like gift-mas

You say time is running out, and you still haven’t found those certain special somethings that will make the people on your list think you’re the cat’s pajamas this holiday? Well, never fear; the At Large staff has culled through our "new product" press releases and compiled this list of actual items for the person in your life who has everything.

As for cat’s pajamas ... You’re on your own there.

To read the "AT LARGE" holiday gift guide, click here.

It beats slacks

I don't care if whether or not you're Jewish. You need this.

This week's column:Shopping's been merry, merry good to me

Although department stores still hire scary women to squirt you with perfume for no good reason, I'm happy to report they've finally done one good thing: stopped the willy-nilly throwing around of the offensive term "Merry You-Know-What." (I'm hesitant to say the actual phrase since it's been known to spontaneously turn people into Christians against their will; this is why during the Crusades, knights made a common practice of offering Yuletide greetings to heathens right before the beheadings.)

After all, one need look no further than the Constitution, which says very explicitly that no one should be subjected to such abject proselytizing while they're buying underwear. It's right between the part that says we have the right to use a .50-caliber assault rifle to subdue deer and the section entitled "Abortions for Everybody!"

Sure, when department store clerks say (OK, I'll say it) "Merry Christmas," it may sound like they're just offering a friendly seasonal greeting. But what they actually mean is, "May this underwear go with you in Christ," or "May this underwear fill you with the blessed glory of His undying love." Or maybe more to the point, "May these be the underwear in which you burn in hellfire if you don't embrace the one true Lord." They're crafty, these department store zealots.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

If the judges find out you own 'Judy at Carnegie' on vinyl, you're toast

Who says nobody's doing anything about men who would otherwise be manly heterosexuals turning willy-nilly to gay lifestyles? (And when I say "will nilly," I mean that in only the most politically correct way possible.) Turns out that Massachusetts pastor Tom Crouse is drawing a straight line in the sand, so to speak, by sponsoring a "Mr. Heterosexual" contest.

And he's not doing it as an excuse to parade hunky alleged heterosexuals around the church basement. Apparently the pastor felt there was a need to "show men and boys that it's OK to be heterosexual." Yes, it's about time someone did something about all those gay schoolyard bullies, forcing the other kids to listen to show tunes and color coordinate against their will.

But is this contest for me, you may ask? To find out if you might make a good "Mr. Heterosexual," take this simple quiz:

1) Football is ..
A) Sport of the Gods
B) A great way to spend Sunday afternoon
C) Like ballet, but the men are bigger and the pants are tighter.

2) I'd like to be stuck on a desert island with ...
A) Tyra Banks
B) Douglas Fairbanks Jr.
C) Douglas Fairbanks Sr. and Jr.

3) Finish this phrase: "Will ..."
A) Smith
B) and Grace
C) someone loosen my Missoni wool mohair scarf and pour me a Bailey's banana colada? It's getting hot in here, baby!

Award yourself 5 points for each A, 3 points for each B, and 1 point for each C. If you scored 13 or higher, you may be the next Mr. Heterosexual. If you scored 5 or lower, James Dobson of Focus on the Family is waiting outside to beat you up.

And for an extra grand you can get one that plays 'Also Sprach Zarathustra' when the lid opens

The Invention of the Month for December goes to Toto, the company that has developed a $5,000 toilet. Is the toilet made of solid gold with a diamond-encrusted lever for fancy flushing? No, apparently Liberace's next of kin had all of those melted down.

Rather, it's a remote-controlled toilet: The lid lifts as you approach, the seat lifts on its own if you wait a few more seconds, and it automatically flushes and lowers the lid upon completion. Suggested motto: "It does everything except pee for you!" And that's probably coming in the 2007 model.

This week's column:A mist opportunity for drinkers

Here in Massachusetts we have our share of problems worthy of attention by our state legislators. For instance, there's the fact that what you'd pay for an average home here would, in Florida, purchase Cape Canaveral.

I'm sure the legislators will get to that, but in the meantime they're making progress on at least one other important issue. I'm speaking of course of their efforts to outlaw Alcohol Without Liquor (AWOL) machines, which are devices that turn alcohol into a mist so you can, yes, inhale it. This apparently doesn't sit well with people who feel that alcohol should be in liquid form, which makes it easier to pour through the funnel.

In fact, the makers of the AWOL, Spirit Partners Inc., have come under fire in several states for their device, which they bill as "a fun, new, exciting way for adults to enjoy alcohol in a responsible manner." And as we all know, when you look up "responsible" in the dictionary, there's a picture of people snorting alcohol into their lungs like some kind of crazed sauce junkies.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Guest starring Dustin Hoffman as Ratzinger Rizzo

You dis the Catholics you get some a' this, know what I'm sayin'?

So let me get this straight -- You defy the Nazis, become the spiritual leader to millions, survive being shot and forgive your attacker, and are mourned by the world when you die, and you’re honored by ... being played in a CBS TV movie by Jon Voight? The “Anaconda” guy?

(Although granted, he was great in “The Champ.” “Don't die champ! Don't die! Georgie, wake him up!” … What? I’ve just got something in my eye.)

Anyway, I hear Voight is actually pretty good as the old Pope, and Cary Elwes is equally adept as the young pope, a role vaguely reminiscent of his turn as Lt. Kent Gregory in “Hot Shots!” If the real Pope were alive, I'm sure he'd be honored. Although that whole sainthood thing would be pretty good too.

'Illegal' is such a harsh word -- let's just call them 'uninvited'

Details of President Bush's plan to deal with illegal immigration:

• “Invisible fence” that triggers a mild electric shock as immigrants cross border.
• Great Wall of China, except in America.
• Start calling illegal immigrants who’ve already moved here “extra very special guests.”
• Giant green door with sign, “Bell Out of Order -- Please Knock.”
• Moat.
• Offer huge tax cuts to illegal immigrants who agree to leave right away, no questions asked.
• When Mexico and Canada aren’t looking, move America to giant crystal structure in the Arctic (“Operation Fortress of Solitude”).
• Hire French guys to throw cows at them when they try to get in.
• Teach all real Americans the secret password.
• Giant invisible force field.

This week's column:And they all lived thankfully ever after

As you may know, every year about this time I like to sit down and remind people why, even though things may sometimes get rough, there are still plenty of reasons to be truly thankful. And not just because it's Thanksgiving. No, I do it because I have to fill this column.

So when life gets you down, just remember the following:

• Tom Cruise has never referred to you as "glib."
• Your job, as awful as it may be, probably does not involve cleaning up after hurricanes or potentially diseased chickens.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

And this bloated post-Thanksgiving feeling probably isn't helping any

This just in: According to Science magazine, new research shows carbon dioxide levels are now higher than at any point in the last 650,000 years.

Woo-hoo! Yes! I knew we could do it! We are the CO2 masters! Carbon dioxide rocks, baby!

Oh, wait -- that's actually really bad. Never mind.

Please, Chris Klein, get the 'American Pie' guys together, get in there and rescue her!

Yes, you heard correctly. Tom Cruise has gone out and bought a sonogram machine, presumably so he can make sure the fetus isn't doing any psychotropic drugs while he isn't looking.

Now, I suppose if you're that rich you can buy anything you want -- sonogram machine, trip into outer space, elephant man's bones, whatever -- but is anyone else as creeped out as I am at the image of Tom slathering up Katie's pregnant belly with goo and rubbing the little sonogram device all over it? Uuuuuuuuuugh.

I've got to go shower.

Being mayor rocks!

This blog has just acquired the list of first-term goals for Michael Sessions, the 18-year-old recently elected mayor of Hillsdale, Mich:

• Get city councilors to start referring to each other as “dawg.”
• Pizza at all union negotiation meetings (stuffed crust -- sweet!).
• “State of the City” address to be delivered via text messaging (“BTSOOM. L8R!”)
• See how fast that city-issued Lincoln Town Car can go on a straightaway.
• At least once a week, guys in assessors department to be given wedgies.
• Lay off fleet of snowplow drivers; issue all residents snowboards.
• Lower drinking age to 18 16.
• Replace city department heads with buds from school; Murph gets to run DPW. (Free rides on the front-end loader -- sweet!)
• Bring in sophomore cheerleaders as “interns.”
• Change city motto to “Fo Shizzle.”

This week's column:So what's the deal with Thanksgiving?

It's time once again for "Mr. Holiday" to answer your holiday queries. This week: Thanksgiving.

***

Dear Mr. Holiday:
I understand that the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals want us to give up eating turkey on Thanksgiving. But I love turkey! Juicy, succulent, recently deceased turkey. What should I do?

Hungry in Holliston

Dear Hungry:
PETA is a very well-meaning organization, in that same way that your crazy uncle who thinks he's a founding member of ABBA is well-meaning. But mostly they're just looking for an excuse to parade around naked and get arrested.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Nein! Nein! Nicht in der Kindereisenbahn Geschäftsbereich!

The good news: A court has declared that Wal-Mart is not allowed to ban romances between employees. The bad news: It's still allowed to pay slave wages, offer little to no health insurance, import billions of dollars in cheap merchandise from Chinese sweatshops and put thousands of smaller stores out of business. But as long as there's no smooching in Aisle 12, we can live with that other stuff.

Wal-Marts ethics code also attempted to ban "lustful glances and ambiguous jokes," presumably either together or separately. No word on unambigous jokes, but if they're about a fellow employee's bosoms, that's probably out too.

Of course, this was a German court, so here in the U.S. we can assume that it will be business as usual in our local Wal-Marts, otherwise known as the twisted fiefdoms of retail hell.

Hmm ... sauerkraut, death ... sauerkraut, death ... I'm thinking!

To think, after all the worry about bird flu -- President Bush's $7 billion plan, hundreds of column inches in the national media, the five pounds of peanut butter and cartons of toilet paper squirreled away in my basement -- it turns out we were all worried about nothing. Well, nothing that a little sauerkraut can't fix.

Yes, that's right, Korean scientists are reporting that several bird-flu stricken chickens that were fed German cabbage made a full recovery. Of course, more tests are needed: The scientists still can't be positive whether that was due to the sauerkraut or to the Oom-Pa-Pa band playing a continuous loop of "The Beer Barrel Polka."

Anyway, I know all this is true because I read it at ananova.com. Which I'm starting to think is just trying to mess with my head.

This week's column:Everything's coming up iPods

Well, it took a lot of soul searching, but I've made my decision: I'm not going to buy an iPod. But not for the reason you might think, namely that my weekly personal entertainment budget covers nothing beyond previously read copies of the Boston Herald. (Oh, that Marmaduke!)

No, it's because every time I feel myself about to break down and buy one, Apple comes out with a new iPod with new features on it. I can only assume they do this to perpetually frustrate the people who just bought the last version -- I'm sure this is the source of much hilarity among the techies at Apple, who are still trying to get back at us for giving them wedgies all through high school.

In fact, just in case you haven't been following at home, here's a quick review of all the iPods you could now own if you'd started buying them when they first came out:

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Of course, most undergraduate males have been minoring in that for years

If you know anything about college, you know that many of the courses involve subjects you'll never actually use in real life. Philosophy. Ancient history. Electrical engineering. You get my drift.

That's why it's reassuring to hear that the Polytechnic University in Hong Kong has finally added something practical to its curriculum: a degree in bra studies. Yes, it's hard to believe that up until now most bras have been designed by people with no formal university training in that area. No wonder women are so cranky.

And the program's graduates will probably be pretty much guaranteed jobs, given that China's biggest lingerie manufacturer, Top Form, has a bra lab right in its factory. If there are rats involved, I don't want to know.

Meanwhile, to whomever designed the front hook bra -- we smell Nobel Prize!

That's what you get for taking a ride with Billy Joel

Poor Paris Hilton. First there was the sex tape, then the big fight with Nicole Richie, then the breakup with the other Paris ... No wait, first was the hamburger ad controversy, then the breakup ... wait, somewhere in there was her stealing her own sex video. So it was the sex tape, the fight with Nicole, the hamburger ad, the sex video stealing, the other Paris breakup ... Oh, forget it.

Anyway, now she's been caught on tape in a car crash outside a Hollywood nightclub. Oh, Paris, when will you give up this wild, fly-by-night lifestyle and settle down, have some kids, go through a messy, public divorce, pose naked in Playboy and star in a reality show in which you and your filthy rich kids go clubbing together? And also, when will we stop caring?

I vote for right now.

Or perhaps they'll recruit the talents of one Mr. Air Bud

Hats off to the players on the Hanna, Okla., High School basketball team. Hopelessly outclassed by their arch rivals, the Earlsboro Wildcats, they could have just given up. But they hung in there, and what happened in the end? They lost 112-2. But that one basket was beautiful, baby.

Besides, I'm sure they'll pull together and, after overcoming obstacles both personal and athletic (lack of coordination, distant fathers who come around just in time for the big game, an ambivalent coach who comes to realize that yes, while he'd love to still be playing professional basketball, it's here with these lovable losers that he'll find true satisfaction), will come from behind to win the state championship against all odds.

Or there's always the math team.

And then JK Rowling comes out at the end and admits that, yes, she is trying to convert the world's children to satanism

Secrets of the new "Harry Potter" movie:

• Hermione officially switches to her Kaballah name, Esther.
• A strange spell turns all the major characters sullen and lanky.
• Key line of dialogue: “Goblet of Fire … Goblet … Of course! Ron, Hermione -- it’s not Goblet … it’s Giblets!” (Cue giant, three-headed turkey.)
• Voldemort reveals he is Harry’s father; mother was Natalie Portman.
• Something fishy about that new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher …
• Actor who played Ron (above) replaced by guy who played Napoleon Dynamite.
• Hagrid … gay?
• Turns out the lightning-shaped scar actually a temporary tattoo.
• Climax is battle to the death among Harry Potter, Col. Potter from "M*A*S*H" and Mr. Potter from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Harry wins, mostly because the other guys are wicked old.

This week's column:What I actually meant to say was ...

OK, I'll admit it: I feel bad for Harriet Miers. For the first two weeks after her nomination to the Supreme Court I had a vague inkling that she might actually be Bea Arthur, and by the time I'd gotten that thought out of my head, she'd withdrawn her nomination and gone back to her regular job as President Bush's valet.

But I can't blame her for pulling out, given the way people were combing through every word she'd ever said in public, from speeches to women's clubs to comments in front of the Texas Bar Association to, presumably, call-ins to sports talk radio. ("Ms. Miers, is it true that you once referred to Roger Clemens as a 'big, fat, over-the-hill American League loser?'" etc.)

So best of luck to the new guy, Samuel Alito. I know I wouldn't want to be in his shoes; I can only imagine how some statements from my younger years might come back to haunt me. In fact, just in case, I figure I better clear the air now:

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Hmm ... Maybe that's what happened to Shelley Winters

You may have heard about how Tyra Banks donned a fat suit to find out what it feels like not to be a gorgeous supermodel and talk show host. What did she find out? That it doesn't feel nearly as good as being a gorgeous supermodel and talk show host. Duh.

But it's interesting that Tyra would take that route, because as it turns out -- I, too, have been wearing a fat suit! I'm really 150 pounds rather than 195. I'm also actually 6-foot-3, and only appear 5-10 1/2 as a result of my fat suit's accompanying short suit. So all of you who've been calling me the Pillsbury Dough Boy behind my back can just stop it.

As for Tyra, apparently she's now planning a Nov. 18 segment on pursuing "a beautiful booty" on which she will reveal her own "dimpled butt" and receive an on-set endermologie treatment, which is definied in the American Journal of Medicine as an advanced scientific procedure involving Tyra Banks' butt.

Proving once and for all that Tyra has stopped asking herself, What Would Oprah Do?

When they start selling the home version, then it's time to worry

See, this is why the Dutch have the stellar reputation that they do. Where else in the world can you go lingerie shopping and find an entire store-full of men feeling up a wall full of fake bosoms? I've certainly never seen it, and I've shopped on Canal Street in New York City.

According to Ananova, the fake breast wall is designed to help male shoppers buy bras that fit their wives or girlfriends. "By look and touch, male shoppers can work out the right size," it reports. Just like in real life.

The question remains, however: Is the wall of fake breasts more or less revolutionary than the Dutch library that lends out gay people, gypsies and muslims? And also, whatever happened to the days when Holland was known pretty much exlusively for its windmills? I vote we go back to that.

There but for the grace of God goes Vanilla Ice

Ladies and gentlemen, get out your checkbooks! MTV is reporting that MC Hammer is selling the music publishing and copyrights to his entire catalog. Yes, now you can own 62.5 percent of "Turn This Mutha Out," 75 percent of "Addams Groove" and 90 percent of "2 Legit 2 Quit." So what do I hear? Anyone? Hello?

OK, how about 40 bucks for his pants?