And we're not sure of this, but we think he may have been at the Watergate in 1972

Pivotal moments in Bill Belichick history:

• March 16, 1960: Bill turns in a math test that looks remarkably similar to that of Suzy Cranmore, the girl who sits at the next desk. His teacher, Ms. Fran Seliwinsky, moves him to the other side of the classroom next to Bob "Stumpy" Federman. His grades slip immediately.
• June 12, 1963: Bill's neighbor Frankie Driscoll accuses Bill of failing to acknowledge direct hits during a game of battleship. When he attempts to look at the board, Bill feigns tripping into it, knocking all the pieces loose. They wrestle.
• Oct. 23, 1969: Bill's first girlfriend, MaryLou Stetson, finds an unfamiliar shade of lipstick on the collar of his letterman jacket. Bill pleads ignorance. She fines him $500,000 and two draft picks.
  

I blame global warming!

Am I the only one concerned about the spiders banding together to build a giant web in Texas? This can lead no place good.

If you haven't heard, the usually independent arachnids have been working together in harmony, creating a web that could, with relative ease, snare a Humvee. So why have they decided that now is the time to unionize? Some entomologists think it might be a fluke, but on the other hand, they probably never saw "Kingdom of the Spiders" (1977), starting William Shatner. Yes, I know: You'd think that would be required viewing in entomology school.

Then there's this choice quote:

"At first, it was so white it looked like fairyland," said Donna Garde, superintendent of the park about 45 miles east of Dallas. "Now it's filled with so many mosquitoes that it's turned a little brown. There are times you can literally hear the screech of millions of mosquitoes caught in those webs."

As much as I hate mosquitoes, it's only a matter of time before those mosquitoes are replaced by Rotarians. Don't say you weren't warned.

And they don't mean it's making them happy

OK, I promise, this is the last post on "High School Musical," at least until they announce the next sequel or until another cast member poses naked. But I felt obligated to report this latest development: "High School Musical" is turning our children gay.

Suddenly, it all makes sense.

This week's column: NASA just needs a little space

OK, I’ll say it: NASA needs some better P.R. Between the astronauts wearing diapers and plotting murders and the ones getting toasted on flight days (“Drink up, dude, I’m taking this thing to the frickin’ moon!”), it seems we’ve forgotten what NASA is all about: spending billions of taxpayer dollars to take blurry pictures of, I don’t know, nebulas.

Just to recap, the alleged diaper-wearing, murder-planning astronaut, Lisa Nowak, has pleaded temporary insanity, saying that she has a variety of diagnosed mental illnesses that NASA somehow managed to overlook. In its defense, though, NASA did a fine job of making sure she was qualified for the 8-by-10 color shuttle crew glossy. (Say what you want about Nowak’s homicidal tendencies — you have to admit she looks smashing in orange.)

But in reviewing the Nowak matter, one investigator turned up reports of astronauts flying into space aboard a Russian Soyuz rocket while intoxicated. (Damn those cosmonauts and their well-stocked liquor cabinets!) NASA has since launched an internal investigation and declared the report to be an “urban legend,” which would also explain the astronaut who allegedly exploded after eating Pop Rocks and Coke.

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

Damn those digital cameras!

OK, so it turns out I was totally wrong when I decided not to believe the Vanessa Hudgens naked pictures rumor. Her publicist has released a statement saying that the picture now circulating around the Internet is indeed the "High School Musical" star, but that it was "taken privately,” and "it is unfortunate that this has become public.” Proving once again that no matter how much publicists get paid, it's not enough.

So instead I've decided to take a different tack and declare that it's no big deal, on the following grounds:

• These days, everybody has naked pictures of themselves on the Internet. This is why Al Gore invented it in the first place. If they'd had the Internet in the '80s, we'd have all had to suffer through naked pictures of Jeanne Kirkpatrick.
• Given everything that Lindsay and Britney have done, a naked picture actually seems kind of quaint, like flapper skirts or Ingrid Bergman's pregnancy.
• This may prompt Disney executives to take a good, hard look at the policies surrounding their performers, and finally decide to chain them in boxes and make them sleep in the studio.

Meanwhile, we can only hope that people will preserve the magic that is "High School Musical" by ignoring the offending image, which shouldn't be much of a problem. Those of us over 19 only have eyes for, well, you know.

Can I trade my old one in?

Well, Apple has done it again. That is, annoyed everyone who's shelled out big bucks for an iPod, only to have Apple release a better version a few months later. This is why I've always said you should put off buying an iPod, ideally until you are dead.

Meanwhile, that sound you hear is the thousands of people who bought their iPods yesterday slapping their palms against their foreheads. Of course, consumers won't stand for this forever. Someday we're going to stop greeting every new announcement by Steve Jobs with thunderous applause and sleeping on sidewalks for the first crack at the latest piece of Apple technology. Just not today, apparently.

To top things off, Apple cut the price of the just-released iPhone by $200, ostensibly to goose sales, but more likely to make the aforementioned sidewalk sleepers feel like idiots. 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.

Or (5), 'All of the Above'

Jerry Lewis' Greatest Hits -- Pick your favorite!

1. "Jessie, the illiterate fag." (last weekend)
2. "You don't want to be pitied for being a cripple in a wheelchair? Stay in your house." (2001)
3. “A woman doing comedy doesn’t offend me, but sets me back a bit. I, as a viewer, have trouble with it. I think of her as a producing machine that brings babies into the world.” (2000)
4. "Hey, laaaaaaaaadddddyyyyyy!!!" (1949-1972)

This week's column: An impressive out-of-body of work

Here’s the thing about scientists: While most of us can only imagine advancements that would better humanity — like, say, a TV remote that would come when you called it — scientists actually find a way to make those advancements a reality. They do this because they want to make the world a better place, and also because they’ve got a lot of grant money.

Take this latest endeavor, for example. Apparently, scientists in Switzerland and Sweden have managed to induce out-of-body experiences in the laboratory. And you know what that means: Soon we may be able to have out-of-body experiences whenever we want them, instead of just sitting around hoping they might happen — say, when a certain co-worker corners you in the break room.

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

But she shouldn't worry, since I'm sure they'll never make it onto the Internet

I've given this some thought, and I've decided not to believe the Vanessa Hudgens naked picture rumor for the following reasons:

1. It started in the National Enquirer. I'm not sure when legitimate news organizations decided that it was OK to refer to things reported in the National Enquirer as if they actually existed in reality, but it's proof positive that Dan Rather really is better off installing cable for Comcast, or whatever he's doing now.
2. Anyone with the nickname "Freaky Math Girl" is way too smart to send naked pictures of herself to Zac Efron, knowing all reasonable means of transmission are being monitored around the clock by Rupert Murdoch.
3. I prefer to think of the "High School Musical" cast as being made of smooth plastic, like Barbie dolls.
   

And he'll start by giving Oprah a car like Travolta did

You heard right: Clinton (Bill, that is) is going on Oprah. According to an e-mail Oprah sent to her book club, the occasion will mark "The first interview about his new passion!" Which, given some of his old passions, is a frightening thought.

But it turns out that passion is "Giving," both the activity and his new book of that same name. But in between his talk of philanthropy, what dirt will he spill? What bombshells will he drop? And most importantly, what will be the next Book Club pick? (Offhand guess: It will be long, and involve depressing foreigners.)

Meanwhile, count on Bill to reveal any number of the following:

• “That whole Vince Foster thing? All Hillary.”
• “During the ’92 campaign, James Carville and I would take turns making Jerky Boys calls to Ross Perot … We’d picture those ears of his turning all red and just laugh and laugh …”
• “Al Gore: Worst guy to get stuck next to at a party ever.”
• “Bush’s dad told me he wet the bed. No, not when he was a kid.”
• “I did have sexual relations with that woman. And that woman. And that woman. And … [tape runs out]."

What, you're telling me Mark Hamill was booked?

Let's face it, NASA needs some good P.R. -- between the astronauts wearing diapers and plotting murders and the ones getting toasted on flight days ("Drink up, dude, we're going to the frickin' moon!"), it seems we've forgotten what NASA is all about: spending billions of taxpayer dollars to take blurry pictures of, I don't know, nebulas.

So, what to do? I can see only two reasonable options:

1. Undertake an important, dramatic space mission that pushes the boundaries of known science and expands our knowledge of the universe; or,
2. Cheesy "Star Wars" tie-in.

And it probably won't surprise you to hear which one they've chosen. (Hint: Not No. 1.) Apparently, the space shuttle Discovery will take Luke Skywalker's actual (fake, plastic) lightsaber on its next mission to the International Space Station. And not only that: Chewbacca himself will hand the lightsaber over to Space Center officials. Which, of course, is ridiculous. Everybody knows that Wookiees don't use lightsabers.

All I can say is, I'm sure this will do wonders for NASA's tarnished image. Just like Major League Baseball's floundering reputation was saved by this.

They're fat, they're fat, we know it

OK, I understand that obesity is a big problem in this country, and that it won't be long before we're all waddling to work and getting stuck in door frames like Laurel and Hardy. But really, where are they finding the file photos to run with their obesity stories? I'm thinking specifically of this guy. It's like Uncle Fester exploded.

It's time we got a more dashing obese spokesperson. I think you know who I mean.

The days dwindle down, to a precious few ...

Yes, the calendar says that fall doesn't start until Sept. 22 or thereabouts (wait ... I may be thinking of Yom Kippur), but as we all know Labor Day marks the true end of the summer season. I know that personally, if I can't wear my white poly-cotton golf slacks and matching Clark Griswold loafers without risking derisive snickers down at the club, it ain't summer.

With that in mind, here is my first installment in what will no doubt become an annual "What I Did This Summer" series. And this one pretty much speaks for itself (literally, since I narrate):

'Radio Nowhere' ... and especially not here

Post a link to Springsteen's new single before it's officially released? I would never!

Hey, what's that over there behind you?

http://hypem.com/search/radio%20nowhere/1/

(You didn't hear this from me.)

It's wiggly annoying

Memo to Ticketmaster: I love you just as much as the next guy. I love the little indecipherable verification words, and the "Convenience" charges, and the extra buck-fifty I have to throw in for the Building Facility, since apparently they don't glean enough off the original exorbitant ticket price to be able to afford toilet paper.

But what I don't love is that you keep sending me e-mail alerts suggesting, nay, demanding that I "Don't miss The Wiggles!" Listen, Ticketmaster: Just because I bought Wiggles tickets five years ago doesn't mean I want to be prodded every time they come back to town. I'm sorry to say this, but ... We don't like The Wiggles anymore. We couldn't even tell you the name of the guy who replaced Greg. My kids have moved on! You should as well.

Um ... If Hannah Montana comes around, though, I'm in.

Back, and better than ever! Sort of

You ... yes, you! The old At Large Blog fan who took a chance and wandered on to this site even though I haven't posted anything in five months! Thanks for stopping by. How are you? Would you like something to drink? I have seltzer around here somewhere.

Just so you know, you can find my blog musings at two new sites: The Shorelines Blog (concentrating on the weird and wacky on Boston's North Shore, but venturing out into the real world more than occasionally), and also at OurTowns Tonight, the blog for GateHouse Media New England. Check 'em out! Somebody's got to.

And I'll be posting here more often too, because, well ... I feel horribly guilty. There, I said it. And just to prove I mean it, here's a picture of me as a Simpsons character:

Because it's there

Please excuse my lack of blogging of late; I'm currently scaling the Himalayas with my dog Rocky and my loyal manservant, Lorenzo. It's very difficult to blog from here, since most of the caves with WiFi are already fully occupied by coffee-drinking slackers.

So posts here will be (as they have been) few and far between, but in the meantime you can check out my contributions to "Our Towns Tonight," a blog on all things Massachusetts, and look for a new blog launch from me through with the publication North Shore Sunday in the near future.

In the meantime ... On, Rocky! Mush! Mush!

Look ... I made a movie

This week's column:He's very much out-of-date

I remember from when I was a dating person, sometime before the turn of the century and after the Paleozoic Era, that the whole process was a complicated, messy affair. First you had to actually meet someone somewhere, like your office, the Laundromat or through a friend who pitied you. Then you spent months getting to know the person while doing your best to make sure they didn’t get to know you, at least not the real you, the you with five-day-old stubble and pile of old socks under your bed. It was exhausting.

Fortunately I’m married now, so the only person I “date” is my wife — and we have young children, so our dates consist of anything we happen to be doing without them, like looking for furniture or comparing paint swatches. At least we know all the dates will eventually wind up in bed, although in between us will likely be two kids, a lumbar pillow, a black Lab and a golden retriever (whose noses can get pretty darn cold, incidentally).

But I think it would be difficult for my wife and me to start dating today, given the archaic way we got together — spending months as co-workers while pretending not to be attracted to each other, and then starting to date without telling anybody. We didn’t fill out any forms or record any videos, and we certainly didn’t use computers, which back then were primarily for playing solitaire.

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

This week's column:How throbbingly passionate of you

For those of you looking for the perfect book to give that special someone this Valentine’s Day, I’m wondering if you’ve considered what may be an entirely new genre in literature: the personalized romance novel. That’s right, it’s a romantic adventure, but instead of starring attractive people, you and your spouse are in it. I think this may have been what killed Sydney Sheldon.

Nevertheless, it’s true. The Web site yournovel.com apparently offers 21 different “customized capers” with you and your significant other wedged into the text. You can even upload your picture for the cover, although you’ll have to stick your head on Fabio’s body yourself. (Oh, like you haven’t already done that. At least in your head.)

They can also incorporate things like eye and hair color and “affectionate nicknames” — for instance, in the sample they use “Passion Flower,” which is a mainstay on the list of popular marital nicknames, right between “lazy slob” and “unintelligible under-breath mutterings.”

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

Whatever happened to Karaoke?

For those of you who can’t help but wonder if there’s any common sense or decency left in the world, look no further than the Tabu Ultra Lounge in Saugus, Mass. All it took was an undercover hidden-camera investigation by “Inside Edition” to get them to cancel all future girl-on-girl kissing contests at the club’s “teen nights.”

And we’re sure if someone had just pointed out that encouraging scantily clad underage girls to make out in front of cheering crowds while promoters poured water on them was wrong, they would have stopped the practice sooner. Work with them, people!

The “Inside Edition” report, which aired last week, spotlighted Tabu in addition to clubs in New York and New Jersey. The report claimed that in every club they visited, undercover reporters found girls walking around “in little more than underwear.” The hidden cameras also captured kids groping and fondling each other in open view at several locations. But as Tabu owner Frank Amato points out, no alcohol is served at these events, and “We’re a safe place for teens to come.” That’s right — if it wasn’t for Tabu, these teens would be groping and fondling each other in the streets.

Regardless, the practice will probably come to an end at Tabu in the wake of the report, meaning the town probably won’t have to suspend its license like it did in the wake of 2005’s triple stabbing there. What was it they were saying about it being a safe place?

She also may be a pod

Before we pass judgment on Lisa Marie Nowak, has it occurred to anyone that it's very possible she was bombarded by cosmic rays on her last space mission? Everyone knows they're very unpredictable -- she could have just as easily turned invisible or sprouted orange rocks as turn into a diaper-wearing, pepper spray-wielding psychopath. It happens.

We're just lucky it wasn't gamma rays.

This week's column:Something to fall back on

I recently discovered the only thing more humiliating than throwing your back out while candlepin bowling; namely, throwing your back out while taking off your candlepin bowling shoes. I managed to do this despite the fact that billions of people manage to remove shoes every day without serious injury, many of them more than once.

The day was going so well, too — I had even bowled a personal best, coming close to breaking 100 thanks to resourceful use of the bumpers. Then I leaned over to take off the shoes and I felt it — the muscles in my lower back giving way like failing cantilevers on an uninspected bridge.

I tried to put a good face on it for my kids and our companions until I managed to hobble back out to the car, but it wasn’t easy, given that my upper body was suddenly at a 90 degree angle from my legs — I looked like I’d just stopped in to bowl a quick string on the way to my bell tower.

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

R.I.P. Art Buchwald

There's one less funny person in the world today ... All I know is, when I go, I want to do one of these.

This week's column:Dying is easy, commenting is hard

First, a few words about the late President Gerald Ford. I always liked him, and even voted for him in my elementary school’s mock presidential election in 1976. (I figured I should, since my mother drove one of his cars.) Here was an ordinary guy, someone who showed that in America, anyone really can accidentally become president.

But something that surprised some pundits was that he had apparently made some critical remarks about President Bush to journalist Bob Woodward, on the condition that they not be made public until after his death. And Woodward was true to his word, waiting almost a full eight minutes before going on Larry King.

I can’t help but wonder, though, if garnering juicy comments to be kept secret until the source is buried is a new journalistic trend (which would give an entirely new meaning to the term “deep background”). And more importantly, what other tidbits does Bob Woodward have stored away in his files?

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

And we suppose he also expects us to believe everything we hear about this so-called 'eye-pod'

Just as I suspected ... Steve Jobs is full of it!

And for crying out loud, would it kill him to put on a tie?

But what are her feelings on troop proliferation?

Madonna has spoken! For those of you who forgot to take notes, here is a summary:

1. Not wearing underwear -- bad.
2. Proliferation of African orphans -- bad.
3. Adopting African orphans -- good.
4. Rosie O'Donnell -- good.
5. Standing naked in traffic -- still good.

That about sums it up.

This week's column:Well, that was predictable

It’s time once again for me to look back on my predictions from 12 months ago, in order to see whether my keen journalistic insight served me well in prognosticating the major events for the coming year, or if I was, as usual, talking out of an opening not typically equipped for human speech. So let’s see what I had to say about 2006:

• “Buoyed by their own high moral standards and public support for the president, Republicans will easily stave off Democratic challengers come November. Let’s face it, is there anything conservatives can’t do?”

A little off on this one … But how was I supposed to know the entire Republican Congress would self-destruct? A year ago I would have thought “macaca” was a type of Volkswagen.

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

Lucky '07: Your guide to what's in and what's out as another year kicks off

No, it's not that cold medicine you're taking — you really are in a fog. It's because you've lost track of what's in and what's out when it comes to society, politics, fashion, the arts and life in general. Don't be embarrassed, it happens to the best of us.

And the good news is, you have our annual roundup to fall back on as you enter 2007. But if any of the following falls flat at your next cocktail party, please don't blame us. Blaming is out.

For this year's What's In/What's Out, click here.

For a PDF version, click here.

This week's column:Top stories just tip of the iceberg

As you may have noticed, now's the time when newspapers like to announce their top stories of the year. This provides an important service, particularly to those readers with short-term memory loss.

Here, of course, we like to look past the obvious and point out the important stories that should have gotten more coverage from major media outlets. (Not that Ananova.com shouldn't be considered a major media outlet just because it has an entire section devoted to "Bad Taste Quirkies.") With that in mind, here are the top five At Large actual news stories from 2006:

5.) International Space Station considers allowing alcohol. And you know what that means: much better parties! ("Dude! Watch me float upside down again!")

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

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

Once again, Peter Chianca turns over his column space to Mr. Holiday, who will answer your holiday queries. This week: Christmas.

***

Dear Mr. Holiday:

Is it true that although, ostensibly, Christmas celebrates the birth of Jesus, historians and theologians think he was more likely born in June, and that Dec. 25 was picked because it had been the day of a pagan celebration called Saturnalia which commemorated the birth of the sun god?

Wondering in Wellesley

Dear Wondering:
I don't know if that's true, but I do know that, ostensibly, you're going to burn in eternal hellfire.

The fact is, it doesn't matter whether or not Jesus was really born that day, and I'll tell you why: Jesus had a movie that made $361 million last year. Show me one sun god movie that grossed even half that.

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

In her defense, does it say specifically in the rule book that she can't flash and make out with other girls?

Pop culture trivia question of the day: The person who said, "Those pictures don't surprise me -- she was always showing off her boobs," was referring to:

1. Miss USA Tara Conner;
2. Miss Teen USA Katie Blair;
3. Miss Nevada Katie Rees; or
4. Golden Globe nominee for "The Queen" Helen Mirren.

Trick question ... The correct answer is "Donald Trump."

It's worth noting that the dogs weren't wearing any underwear either

Britney, Britney, Britney ... We were able to forgive you for wearing the snake at the MTV awards; driving with your child on your lap instead of in a carseat; dumping K-Fed by text message; leaving your kids behind to party with Paris Hilton; and failing to wear underwear. But ignoring your dogs ... Well, that's just low.

But a new online poll has named Britney "Worst Celebrity Dog Owner" for 2006, and by a wide margin, apparently. Hilary O'Hagan, editor of The New York Dog and The Hollywood Dog magazines, said she was the "overwhelming choice," noting, "She once had three Chihuahuas ... and never left home without at least one of them on her arm. As soon as she met K-Fed and had kids they (the dogs) disappeared." And as soon as she met Paris Hilton they (the kids) disappeared, so we're sensing a pattern here.

Then again, what about Natasha Lyonne? Oh wait, that was the neighbor's dog.

This week's column:There's no time like the presents

Don’t tell me — Christmas is almost here and you still haven’t found the right gifts for the important people in your life. Well, that’s just because you’re not on the mailing lists for the companies that make the truly original products, the kinds of items that, when you give them as gifts, say to the recipient: “It’s time you reported me to the local authorities.”

Luckily for you, though, these companies seem to have no trouble finding me. So without further ado, following is the second annual At Large Holiday Gift Guide.

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

This week's column:Singing a new 'Christmas 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 stage productions of “A Christmas Carol,” 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.

And yet bullets remain readily available

Well, it's official: New York City has banned Trans-Fats from all of its restaurants. But before you panic, don't worry -- Taco Bell will still be able to serve e. coli.

Meanwhile, in its continuing effort to stem the tide of obesity, NYC Mayor Michael Bloomberg is considering the following follow-up bans:

• Anything glazed;
• All things Cinnabon;
• Any cheese that's a color not found in nature;
• Foods that, if you squeezed them hard enough, would relinquish enough grease to power a diesel vehicle;
• Anything that tastes, you know, good.

This week's column:It's an urban jungle out there

I want to start off by saying that, when I was in my 20s, traversing the mean streets of the city didn’t faze me at all. Not that the streets where I lived werethat mean, but they were certainly meaner than the ones I’m used to now in the suburbs, which are not mean at all -- they’re like the Pat Boone of streets. They’re also empty after 8 o’clock at night, which is not a trait that streets in the "mean" category usually like to cultivate.

But despite my diversion into suburbia (like most suburbanites, it feels like one day I just woke up here, like a sailor who gets something funny in his rum and wakes up in the hold of a ship bound for China), I always felt that if I was dropped back into a city I’d regain my urban instincts, like domesticated animals who are returned to the wild and immediately start eating voles.

Which is why I was so surprised recently when my wife and I took my 5-year-old son on the train to see a show in Boston. When we walked into the T station, I was immediately disoriented -- where was the nice lady who sells the tokens? What were these glowing, high-tech card kiosks? I vaguely remembered hearing something about a new fare card system -- I recall seeing Gov. Romney on TV in a train station, looking like he wished something would flood or blow up -- but I had filed it in the back of my brain with all the other things that don’t affect me, like global warming.

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

Limoncellos for everybody!

Meant to blog tonight, but I'm going out drinking with George Clooney. You can catch me tomorrow on "The View"!

Paris taught her everything she knows about not wearing underwear

In today's celebrity marital breakdown news, a big "Hah!" to all of you who predicted that Britney wouldn't be able to bounce back from her split with Kevin Federline. It took mere weeks for Britney to be photographed being groped by Paris Hilton and generating headlines like "Britney Spears Flashes Privates, Gets Press." And that was from ABC News, so you can only imagine what the headlines at E! are saying.

We here at At Large just want to say, good for Britney! So what if she has no idea where her kids are? Surely some nanny is looking after them. Meanwhile, Britney, before you get back on the horse completely, you may want to invest in a pair of these.

Meanwhile, most people are giving the divorce about six months

Darn it ... This time I really thought it was going to last. Never mind what I said in July.

But I guess the romance of Pam Anderson and Kid Rock is really the same old story: How many of us have had lavish wedding ceremonies in in France, California, Michigan and Tennessee, only to wake up four months later and realize that we were married to a scuzzy dirtbag and/or a trashy bimbo?

No reason yet for the breakup, but I think we all know who Kid Rock is really in love with. Meanwhile, it looks like it will be up to a judge to decide custody of the tremendous bosoms.

This week's column:So this is the thanks dads get

I can’t help but wonder why, when Thanksgiving rolls around, no one ever asks us dads advice on the holiday meal. You’d think all we were capable of on Thanksgiving was stuffing our faces and lying on the couch with our distended bellies hanging over our loosened belts, which is patently untrue. We also watch football.

But some of us fathers just happen to know our way around a kitchen. For instance, I am recognized throughout my household for my expert preparation of the following meals:

1. Hot dogs;
2. Tacos, from box;
3. Salami sandwiches (note: does not technically involve cooking).

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

As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly

Happy Thanksgiving.

Just make sure to also adopt some cranberry sauce and gravy

Yes, Thanksgiving is so close that many of you are already seated at the head of your dining room table with your bib on, knife and fork clutched in your sweaty palms. OK, I'm talking about me.

But while eating a big dead turkey is probably part of your plans, it's not too late to make up for some of the bad karma doing that is bound to engender. Yes, that's right, I'm talking about adopting a turkey.

It seems Farm Sanctuary in Millis, Mass. has rescued more than 1,000 turkeys, "and more than450 have been adopted to loving homes throughout the U.S." Because lets face it, what could be better than that moment when you come home from work and your pet turkey runs to the door, jumps up into your arms and nuzzles you until you scratch his waddle?

I should mention that this activity is endorsed by Charlotte Ross, pictured above, who is listed on the Adopt-a-Turkey website as a celebrity. I've never heard of her, but what do we need to know other than that she's willing to get down on her knees and share some sugar with a turkey? But if that's not good enough for you, just ask Gloria.

So much for the rumor that Chris Klein and the guys from 'American Pie' were going to kidnap her for deprogramming

Well, the TomKat wedding has come and gone, ending with what news reports have described as a kiss that was "never-ending," not unlike the eternal pole on which Tom Cruise seems determined to fly his freak-flag.

But wait a minute -- a high-profile wedding, a bizarre guest list, a freakily long kiss seemingly designed to elicit viewer discomfort ... What is this whole scenario reminding me of?

Oh, right.

Well, best of luck to all!

This week's column:Living off the fat of the land

It's always difficult to adjust your eating habits this time of year, when you're transitioning between leftover Halloween candy and a diet consisting almost entirely of stuffing. One option is to try to limit yourself to vegetables and whole grains in anticipation of upcoming holiday binging. Or, you can go to Arizona for an 8,000-calorie cheeseburger.

Hmmm ... I wonder how much flights to Tempe are these days?

I'm referring, of course, to the Quadruple Bypass Burger, which made headlines recently for being 8,000 calories and roughly the size of a human head. It has four slabs of beef totaling 2 pounds, three layers of cheese, four layers of bacon, lettuce, tomato and who knows what else ... paparazzi are rumored to have been picking through them in search of Kevin Federline.

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

I always thought of it more as a lifestyle choice

I suppose it was only a matter of time before someone wanted "Jedi Knight" recognized as an actual religion. And sure enough two people from Britain -- "Umada" and "Yunyun," also known as John Wilkinson and Charlotte Law -- have done just that, saying, "Like the UN, the Jedi Knights are peacekeepers and we feel we have the basic right to express our religion through wearing our robes." Well, I'll tell you this, buckos, you have to do a lot more than wear robes to be as effective as actual UN peacekeepers! Oh wait, not really.

Regardless, anyone with half a brain knows that Umada and Yunyun are crazy to ask to be officially recognized as Jedis. For one thing, too old to start the training are they.

Watch your back, Emmitt ... Karina may be waiting in the parking lot with an ice pick

Well, I voted for Emmit Smith (yeah -- I voted ... you got a problem with that? It's my duty as an American), so I'm happy for him. But some guys really have all the luck -- to be a three-time Super Bowl winner and have possession of the cheesy disco ball trophy? Spread it around, my friend!

But instead of wallowing, I'm going to follow Emmit's lead and reach for that seemingly unattainable goal. That's right: I'm going to become the NFL's all-time leading rusher!

Or maybe just try to wear green sparkly shoes without getting beaten up ...

This week's column:Going from bad to Worcester

You should always figure you’re probably in trouble if you find yourself asking the question, "How hard could it be?" You know, like, "How hard could it be to replace the Central Artery with an underground tunnel?" or, "How hard could it be to establish a democratic government in the heart of the Middle East?"

After an experience I had last week, I’ll add another question to that list: "How hard could it be to kill a couple of hours in Worcester, Mass.?"

It started when I volunteered to drive my wife and daughter to Worcester (pronounced "Woosta-chestah-shire") to see the Cheetah Girls at the DCU Center. For the uninformed, the Cheetah Girls are a trio of squeaky-clean multicultural teenagers who sing and dance in Disney Channel movies. And they’re not the same as the Pussycat Dolls -- boy, did I find that out the hard way.

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

This week's column:Every dog has his Election Day

With Election Day coming up, it’s worth noting that although voter turnout continues to be abysmal, most polling places have yet to institute any kind of free giveaways, like toasters or scratch tickets. Polls of non-voters continue to point to this as a huge error -- even at a blood drive you at least get cookies.

But the main thing keeping people away from the polls, it turns out, is the fact that voters are confused and intimidated. They have a lot of questions: Who should they vote for? How will the issues on the ballot affect them in the future? Which of these candidates would warrant an "8" or better from Bruno Tonioli? Etc.

Well, first of all, before deciding which candidate to vote for in a particular race, you should make sure to do each of the following:

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

'Well, people kept ringing the bell!'

The thing about bus hijackers: They're always doing things like blowing the bus up or putting a bomb in it that will go off it it drops below 60 mph. But very few of them continue making all the stops. That's why our Bus Hijacker of the Week award goes to 15-year-old Ritchie Davis of Florida, who not only stole a bus from the Orange County, Fla., fairgrounds, but took the passengers on their route without a hitch, except for the part where one of them called 911 and he was pulled over and arrested.

An apparent serial bus stealer, Davis is on probation for stealing a charter bus and driving passengers around. "This happened like three times, so I guess he really do like driving buses," said his father, who at least now knows what to get him for Chrismas. I hear the Trailways ones are pretty nice.

But don't worry, the chickens will still be bound in tiny pens and painfully slaughtered

I don't know about you, but when I go into Kentucky Fried Chicken, it's not for the tender, crispy chicken strips, the juicy boneless wings, nor even the whipped-to-perfection potatoes and gravy. No, I go there for the trans fats ... those sweet, golden vats of oily heaven.

So what am I to think now that I hear KFC is going trans fat free, effective this spring? Is nothing sacred? What's next -- McDonald's hamburgers that won't cause an immediate shutdown of your gastric system?

I know, I know: KFC President Gregg Dedrick says there will be absolutely "no compromise" in the taste of their food -- everything from their Original Recipe to their Extra Crispy will taste exactly the same. But ... We'll know, Gregg. We'll know.

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

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

***

Dear Mr. Holiday:

I had planned to dress as a straightjacketed maniac this Halloween, but then I read that the National Alliance on Mental Illness is upset about costumes like this. Should I change my plans?

Going Crazy in Canton

Dear Going:
Absolutely not! Mental health professionals are notoriously touchy, but it shouldn't be a problem as long as we make it a point to be sensitive in the way we portray nut jobs and wackos. It would be a shame to get rid of those types of costumes and attractions altogether, because Halloween is really the only day of the year we have to celebrate raving psychopaths. I mean besides Election Day.

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

This is why more and more financial advisors are recommending death

A hearty congratulations to Kurt Cobain, who knocked Elvis out to take the top spot on Forbes' annual list of top-earning dead celebrities! On the down side, of course, he's still dead.

This week's column:Never too early to fall into winter

You may have noticed that the days have started getting darker and colder, and yet for some reason your drawers are still full of tank tops and bathing suits. This is because you're in a very profound form of denial and -- like the residents of Buffalo, N.Y. -- will soon leave your house without so much as a windbreaker and walk directly into a 6-foot snow bank, not to be discovered until you're thawed out by archaeologists in the year 7012.

Yes, despite the odd 70-degree day, winter is bearing down on us. This is why I spent my vacation last week preparing my household for that unavoidable eventuality, as humans have been doing for centuries. We're just like the Pilgrims in that regard, if the Pilgrims had needed to figure out which screens went into what windows after they removed their air conditioners.

So with that fresh in my mind, I thought I would offer up the following winter preparation checklist. Like the squirrels foraging for nuts in between their attacks on park rangers, you are not ready for winter unless you've done each of the following:

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