The movie is about a man whose abiding love for all creatures weird, wild and wonderful prompts him to support himself by rescuing animals from harmful situations, and it boasts no small amount of animals onscreen at any given moment. Not one to waste an opportunity to broaden her friends’ minds, Umbilika told the group as many pertinent facts about each animal as she could remember.

“I think I might have started it,” says friend Jocelyn Ornz. “In the beginning of the movie Jim Carrey is pretending to be a UPS man so that he can steal the little dog back from the mean fat guy. When that little white fluffball popped his head out from Jim Carrey’s shirt, I just lost it. It was so cute, I just said that out loud: ‘That’s so cute!’ Now I realize that might have let her feel she could speak during the movie.”

According to reports, Umbilika allegedly told the group that it wasn’t called a “little white dog,” but a “Shih Tzu”, a Chinese dog descended from one of the most ancients breeds of dog. She went on to speculate that it may have been a struggle for the movie production to get the Shih Tzu to the set because many airlines will not ship that particular breed if the flight will be more than 75 degrees Fahrenheit due to the Shih Tzu’s sensitivity to warm temperatures. Umbilika is said to have concluded her description with the fact that yes, Shih Tzu’s are quantifiably one of the cutest dogs in existence.

At this point in the film, the action jumps to the Miami Dolphins training facility where their mascot, a real dolphin, is captured and loaded onto a tarp to be taken away. An exact transcription of the movie night taken by Gooden Dunn, an over-eager courtroom stenography major, illuminates Umblika’s excitement at seeing the dolphin.

Umblika: Ooh, did you all see that? That was a dolphin! It was tough to see but I’m guessing it’s a Common Bottlenose, based on size, color, and the fact that the Common Bottlenose captured the American imagination in Flipper, 1964. I’ll bet the fish the bad guys fed it to lure it over was an adolescent King Mackeral, more commonly called a Kingfish, which are plentiful off the coast of Miami.

Trey Peterson: Gee, thanks for that helpful and informative tidbit, Skipper.

Gooden Dunn: (in the style of Ace Ventura) La-hoooo-ser!

Witnesses to the event report being stunned by the breadth of Umbilika’s knowledge. In some, but not all accounts, the depth, height, and/or width of her knowledge was also mentioned.

“It never ceases to amaze me how the smartest people can be so goddamn stupid,” says Trey Peterson, creator and performer of the snarky comment seen above in the transcript. “It’s not that she was wrong about anything and under different circumstances all that crap about the animals might actually be interesting. Impressive, at least. She’s just an idiot is all.”

Although the first ten minutes of the movie certainly provided opportunity for Umbilika to showcase her knowledge and enlighten her friends, the last three minutes that the group watched proved to be an overwhelming onslaught of animal factoids the likes of which no man should be forced to endure. For those of you familiar with the film, you may have guessed that this is the part in which Jim Carrey arrives back at his apartment after successfully returning the Shih Tzu to its rightful owner, being duly compensated for his efforts, and convincing his landlord that he’s not keeping any animals in his apartment. As soon as he closes the door, of course, all hell breaks loose as the dozens of animals he is harboring in the apartment come bursting forth. The effect of so many animals to categorize and describe all at once was disastrous for both Umbilika and her friends. Gooden Dunn’s transcript shows the horror:

Umbilika: Oh wow, there’s a basset hound, derived from the French “bas”, which means “low”. Originally bred to have osteochondrodyplasia, or dwarfism. Don’t let them swim, the short legs can’t take it! Um, so many birds, what are they? Oh, ah. Oh, it’s a smooth-coated otter, Lutrogale perspicillata. Found in the Indomalaya ecozone, what’s it doing in a Miami toiletbowl? Ah! Skunk! Mephitis Mephitis! Well developed anal scent glands! Ooh, capuchin monkey! Um, uh, only sleeps at lunchtime, trained to help quadraplegics and serve food in restuarants while wearing silly hats! Oh! Squirrel! Um, uh…nuts! Penguins! Magellanic penguins! Kingdom: Animalia! Phylum: Chordata! Class: Aves! Dear God, so many parrots! Ah! Ah! Chameleon! Raccoon! Ah!

Trey Peterson: Turn it off! She’s having a seizure! Gooden, you have the remote! Quit writing! Gooden, Jesus Christ!

Umbilika was eventually hospitalized that night. Her friends say they will never watch another movie with her ever again – not at all because she was extremely annoying and ruined their happy nostalgia with her know-it-all interruptions and fun facts. Those, her friends say, were so interesting and so thoughtful. They are only concerned for her health and so they wish it to be known that their request that Umbilika never come back was not motivated out of dislike for such an accommodating friend, but due to the fact that there could be animals around at any moment and they would not want to get so worked up again.

Currently at the Leahi Hospital with her jaw wired shut and Planet Earth on BluRay, Umbilika is more than ok with that.

Limbaugh has been the center point of an argument regarding the leadership of the Republican party that has been playing out in the press for over a month, with many political observers noting that Republicans seem wary of distancing themselves from the often inflammatory host. A recent interchange with RNC Chairman Michael Steele, in which Limbaugh demanded Steele apologize for calling him an “entertainer” who makes “ugly” comments, resulted in Steele retracting those comments on several talk shows. This and other stories like it have naturally given momentum to the speculation that Republicans are afraid to go against the Radio host for fear of the sway he holds with their constituents, yet even with this history Limbaugh may be testing the limits of his influence. In his radio show, which aired yesterday morning, Limbaugh heavily criticized those that have been distancing themselves from his rhetoric, and said that:

“Republicans in congress need to prove who’s side they are on – President Obama and the big government socialists – or the conservative base of the country. I call on all Republicans to denounce the people like Michael Steele who are interested in misinterpreting me and helping the liberals. And to I call on them to prove their loyalty to me by giving me a sacrifice.”

Many in congress have appeared skeptical about the idea of owing sacrifice to Limbaugh, but most have taken action to avoid invoking the wrath of the radio host who has in the past expressed no hesitation in using his listening base against a Republican congressman. Utah Senator Robert Bennett almost immediately announced that he would be “sacrificing three of my finest oxen in honor of the great Limbaugh,” and Senator Richard Burr of North Carolina pledged “a full grown, strong goat” to honor the radio host.

Still, some Republicans expressed frustration and resistance to Limbaugh’s request.

“This is exactly what the Democrats want,” said Oklahoma Senator James Inhofe. “When Rush Limbaugh makes a demand like this, Democrats put it into fifty TV spots to make it look as though we take all of our cues from a radio host, which is just ridiculous. I’d say more on the subject, but I’m really overloaded trying to corral the virgins and livestock needed.”

Speaking on CNN’S The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer, Indiana Senator Richard Lugar delivered the strongest criticism of Limbaugh, saying that “Limbaugh is not the boss of me,” and criticizing the host for his “over the top demands.” However, after a stinging rebuke from Limbaugh this morning, Lugar quickly scheduled a press conference in which he proceeded to “beg forgiveness from the almighty Rush God, and declare my shame for displeasing you! I offer you a host of livestock to appease your holiness, and my young daughter, that she may sate your anger!”

Aides to President Barack Obama have been complaining this past of week of the President’s behavior during meetings.  Speaking on condition of anonymity, several high-level staffers have said that the President has seemed distracted since being granted his super-secure blackberry device this past week.

“He’s just always sitting there, not looking at anyone who’s talking to him, just staring at that stupid device.  He needs to constantly be re-fed information, and he never gives any input – just sits there button mashing.”

One aide detailed a meeting regarding the revisions to the economic stimulus package that President Obama has been attempting to push through congress.  According to the aide, the President was looking down, looking very frustrated during the entire meeting, leading several advisers to believe that he was quite angry with them.  It was only when President Obama’s eyes grew large and he exclaimed “Alright!  I got an extra life!” that it became clear to everyone that the President was actually playing a video game on his portable device.

“In some meetings, he’s even been playing games that require sound,” said one baggy-eyed aide who claimed she had been responsible for filling the President in on the happenings of a meeting he had attended.  “Before it was just Prince of Persia, and Soul Caliber, and stuff like that.  Now he’s playing Guitar Hero III during a meeting with the State Department.  I thought (Secretary of State) Hilary Clinton was going to kill him!   Fortunately, she seems to be a fan.  I guess they actually bonded over Rock Band, so that worked out.  But still, I mean, is he going to do this with foreign ambassadors?  Not ALL of them are going to be Mario Cart fans.”

Although the President playing video games during meetings may be a somewhat new obsession, a recent interviewer with Obama Campaign Manager David Plouffe revealed that the tendency for President Obama to become distracted by his favorite device may have been a problem during the campaign.

“The President was always engaged with the campaign,” said Plouffe during an interview with CNN’s Wolf Blitzer.  “But there were definitely times, when . . . well, you’d be talking to him, and he’d keep saying ‘uh-huh’, ‘uh-huh’, ‘uh-huh’, and you’d realize that he was updating his Facebook.  Don’t get me wrong, he made a lot of progress showing discipline with the blackberry over the course of the campaign, but I think many of us were dismayed when we heard he was getting a super-secure blackberry so that he could keep that thing in the White House.  Seriously, it’s like creating a super hard to detect strain of heroin so that an addict can take it with him to work.”

“It’s even worse when (Vice-President) Biden’s in the room,” said another staffer who agreed to speak on condition of anonymity but who bears a striking resemblance to   Deputy Press Secretary Bill Burton.  “The two are constantly smirking and giggling for the entirety of a meeting.  They keep looking beneath the table when other people are talking, as if nobody in the room can figure out that they’re texting to each other.”

“It wouldn’t be so damn insulting if they were sitting farther apart,” continued the anonymous source who looks exactly like Bill Burton.  “But they’re like two people apart, and having sat in between them before, let me just say it’s really awkward.  I’m also more than a little frustrated that – from what I’ve seen – when this stuff goes to the presidential records act, it’s going to be chalk full of things like ‘LOL’ and ‘OMG u r so funny!’”

Jones went out last Friday night with several other women to celebrate a friend’s job promotion. After a few hours of drinking, the ladies found themselves at one of the few bars in town that offers karaoke. “I never would have done it if I wasn’t wasted,” recalls Jones who was on her seventh whiskey sour at the time. As Jones tells it, she began to sing “Islands in the Stream,” performing both sides of the duet and once she got started, she did not want to stop. She went out to perform ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” and the traditional folk ballad “Danny Boy.”

Several friends who witnessed the event, as well as the karaoke DJ, all described the evenings festivities as “like watching a train wreck happen in reverse.” Meredith Montag, the receptionist at Jones’ office, elaborated, saying, “at first it was ridiculous. A lot of laughing and forgetting the words and just totally embarassing herself. But then she got a little better. And a little better. And soon it was clear she was really into it and that made her good at it. I think she ended up doing like seven songs.”

Apparently the night left a lasting impact on Jones, who did not show up for work the following Monday or any day after that. “I just didn’t realize how awesome it is,” says Jones of karaoke. “And you really don’t have to be a good singer. I thought it was only for American Idol hopefuls and you know, those weirdo businessmen who totally could have been the next Sinatra but gave up on their dreams.” So now Jones has begun to dedicate her life to spreading the word about the Japanese singing sensation that most people discovered in the late eighties. She reports to have no plans to return to work, or bathe.

“All that matters now is that people know. They have to know. Kareoke is the best. I don’t know why anyone does anything else.” When pressed for more specifics on what exactly makes kareoke so great, Jones declined to answer, obviously pretending to not hear the question. As this reporter walked away, Jones could be heard to sing, “islands in the stream, that is what we are, no one in between, how can we be wrong, sail away with me, to another world…”

The third annual Chubby Bunny Championship took place in Arco Arena before a sold-out crowd and was the first truly international contest of such nature. Besides Mr. Jagger, there were delegations from Mexico, Canada, Australia and Japan. Ushering in a new era of professional eating competitions, the CBC boasted an impressive lineup of competitors, which included Sir Mick, Takeru Kobayashi of hot-dog eating fame, and Steven Tyler, the large-lipped frontman of Aerosmith.

The competitors present at the finals had already made it through two days of rounds designed to whittle down the list of competitors from 300 to ten. While anyone was welcome to compete, all eyes were firmly fixed on Mr. Kobayashi and the rock ‘n roll royalty. Going into the final round, all three were at roughly the same level, having all managed at one point to contain 35 marshmallows in their mouths while still able to say the words “Chubby Bunny.”

“The athleticism of these eaters is astounding,” says Del Rogers, a sports reporter for local news KRCA. “It’s clear just by watching Takeru warm up that he is a dedicated eater and it’s amazing what a guy like him was able to do by sheer will-power. But in the end, it comes down to physiology. His mouth is just smaller than either Mick Jagger’s or Steven Tyler’s and he got knocked out pretty quickly.”

By the time they were at Competition Marshmallow 30, the two rock legends were the only competitors left and remained locked in heated battle. The stage was set up so that the two competitors faced each other. In front of each of them was a small table with a bowl of marshmallows and each took turns putting a marshmallow in their mouths and saying “chubby bunny.” On the big screen in the middle of the arena, you could see the intense glares in each man’s eyes, daring the other match him.

“It was the most exciting thing, like, ever,” says Jim Benson, 11. “I couldn’t believe how big their mouths were. My dad said it was because both of them have spent so many years singing and stuff and that stretched their mouths out.”

“I got pretty worried for them,” says Delores Santos. “It’s not like either of them are young men anymore and you could see it was a great strain for them. I’d heard about people dying in contests like this because they couldn’t breathe with so many marshmallows in their throats. I didn’t worry too much because I saw the fire department was there just in case.”

Although Mr. Jagger faltered with marshmallow 41, nearly spitting soggy, half-chewed marshmallows all over the referee, he regained his composure and came back to a great roar from the crowd. With each successive shout of “chubby bunny,” the singers executed their trademark dance moves, spinning around and twirling the myriad scarves each wore for the occasion. Sir Jagger knocked Mr. Tyler out of the competition with marshmallow 43.

“OW OO IKE E OW UDDER-UCKERR?” Jagger shouted, thankfully with enough marshmallows in his mouth as to not offend parents of small children with his vulgar language. Spinning around and attempting to do the splits, Sir Jagger could no longer contain the marshmallows and they exploded from his mouth into the VIP section which was in front of the stage. Both singers required assistance clearing the blockage in their throats, but once recovered they were not visibly shaken. The two then embraced like old friends and sang an acapella version of “Start Me Up,” a hit by Jagger’s band The Rolling Stones.

Officials from Arco Arena say they were very pleased with the event.

“We haven’t even been able to sell out a King’s game for a few years, but the Chubby Bunny Championship was packed and people were actually scalping tickets for about 120 bucks a pop,” says Walt Whiteman, a spokesman for the sports stadium. “It was an exciting event and we’re happy to have been a part of it.”

Wicked Cow Entertainment, managers for Takeru Kobayashi, say that they’re proud of what he did for his first Chubby Bunny Competition, but that he’ll be improved for the next competition.

“Takeru is not a holder,” says Ward Holgaluffer, a spokesman for Wicked Cow. “His technique is designed for getting foods through his mouth and his throat very quickly, not holding it there. But now he’s going to work on some new skills and cheek-widening exercises. We’re hoping to see Mr. Jagger back here next year.”

Although a statement like that certainly puts Wicked Cow’s representative in the running, for now it seems clear to this reporter – and to the world – just who has got the biggest mouth.

A new Apple device coming out this winter will be the first digital form of the outdoor fire pit. Essentially functioning as an extremely compact, high-powered heating lamp, the iFire© will be hot enough to boil water and heat a radius of 10 feet to 80° in 30° weather. But that’s not all it can do.

The small box (12 in. x 12 in. x 6 in. and weighing a paltry 4 pounds) will have speakers and an iPod dock compatible with any generation and type of iPod. The machine is also a computer, much like the Minimac, but with a screen. There won’t be a modem, because the country doesn’t yet have sufficient wireless coverage in the remote areas one typically camps in, but the iFire will come fully loaded with survival tips, wilderness education tools, ideas for outdoor activities, and an extensive range of folklore, scary stories and camp songs complete with guitar tablature and karaoke recordings. There will also be a digital encyclopedia and a comprehensive list of classical literature, both of which can be downloaded to an e-book.

“We were trying to create the ultimate camping tool,” says Brian Witching, one of the iFire’s creators. “I got the idea from watching Kubrick’s 2001. I saw all those monkeys jumping around the big black thing that’s supposed to have given them intelligent thought or something and I thought, ‘Well, what if that big black obelisk was portable and you actually knew what it did and it was easy to use?’”

“We envision the iFire as an all-in-one tool you can use to bond with your family, friends and the world around you,” says Leah Roodles, a senior marketing official for the project. “Imagine a whole field full of families all huddled around their own little machine, quietly absorbing digital enlightenment in the dead of night. Ok, imagine that image doesn’t seem so ominous, but instead inspiring. It’s time to bring camping into the 21st century.”

Facing criticism that the iFire will actually disengage users from their environment by pulling all of their attention into the abstract realm of information rather than forcing people to exist in a more natural state as camping has traditionally done, Apple spokespeople are quick to point out that the iFire can be used an educational tool.

“You can learn a lot about your environment on this machine, and you can then go out and explore in the nature that surrounds you,” says Ms. Roodles. “The iFire is like any other digital tool; it is at its most optimal use when acting as a supplement to enrich human life, rather than the sole focus.”

Still, some critics point out that kids these days know a lot more about computers than they do about nature. Even if the computer is a tool for learning about nature it could prove so distracting that kids might spend all their time camping reading about their environment instead of participating in it. Also, says Gene Hickman of the digital culture magazine Compy2000, “Kids these days are computer whizzes. They’ve grown up in the digital age like no one else before and it would be easy for some savvy little brat to hack the iFire and install games.”

Regardless of the iFire’s ethical merits, it is an incredible feat of engineering and a big step forward in the Digital Age. The iFire is weather-proofed and protected to a point unheard of in computing to this point and it is one of the first commercial machines to use solar power almost extensively. The machine draws power from the solar panels on its outside, but can also be hooked up to a car adapter. Beefed-up versions of the iFire are already in production for military and field research purposes. These machines are larger and more powerful and come equipped with a satellite modem for constant GPS and weather updates. They also cost a lot more, starting at 10,000 dollars, 3.5 thousand more than the civilian model.

“At 6,500 dollars, the iFire does cost a fair amount of money now,” admits Ms. Roogles, “but for what it can do, it’s entirely worth it and will only get cheaper and better as time goes on. What other machine is going to give you access to the best of human thought while deep in the woods at the same time that it tells you when the hot-dog it is roasting is browned to perfection?”

For better or for worse, the future is here and there can be no better representation that the iFire. For those concerned with the loss of a previous century’s aesthetics, fear not: the iFire comes with a campfire screensaver complete with hours of recorded crackling and a simulated smoke smell.

Real eye-watering, suffocating smoke not included.

“Phil has always loved to adventure,” says Nancy Herrigan, an old high school comrade of Mr. Collins. “I totally believe that he went to Alaska and loved every minute of seeing those polar bears. I’ll bet he saw a ton of them, he’s always had really good eyesight. We used to be pretty close.”

The tour that Ms. Herrington says Mr. Collins took starts 30 km outside of the tundra, here in Churchill. For $8,500 the would-be adventurers all pile into a “tundra buggy” – an over-sized jeep of sorts raised up on thick tires – and freeze their way out to the middle of a large ice expanse in the hopes of seeing a polar bear. Many people never do, but most swear that they did and there are photos for sale in the gift shop that look like the shitty snapshots a tourist might take, some complete with the date stamp in the corner, just in case there are skeptical friends back home that need to be lied to.

According to Ms. Herrigan, Mr. Collins “definitely saw three bears” and his trip was “definitely inspired by his love of modern art.” “Phil’s the one who turned me on to stuff like that one blank canvas that’s white on white or whatever. He loved subtle variation, probably because he’s this sensitive artist and everything, so I’m completely positive that he wanted to see the polar bears for the aesthetic beauty of a white bear on a white ice block. Positive.”

Ms. Herrigan says that while she hasn’t actually seen Phil Collins since the year after high school, they have “absolutely talked every day for the past 5 years.” The pair, once inseparable for the entire duration of a project they were assigned to do together, reunited after Ms. Herrigan watched the special features of Disney’s Tarzan. She saw Mr. Collins speaking about the role his groundbreaking music had in crafting the magic seen throughout the film and remembered that she knew Mr. Collins from high school. When she got in touch with him, Mr. Collins was eager to pick up their friendship through correspondence. Although Mr. Collins declined to comment for this article, Ms. Herrington says that “Phil can just be a pretty private person. I think he likes me because I was someone from back when his life was normal. I wasn’t some insane fan. I mean, I like his music and all, but he admits to me that his genius makes it pretty hard to connect with people who can’t see the real Phil behind the music like I can.”

Ms. Herrington says that if Mr. Collins’ touring and recording schedule can match up with her vacation time next year, the two of them are talking about maybe seeing if it would be feasible to go on a polar bear tour together.

“That’s how much he loved it,” says Herrington. “He’s going to think about possibly doing it again.”

It’s happened to all of us, whether we be the thrower or the dodger. When that feeling of complete fury comes over you, the natural response is to pick up a dish and throw it. It’s instinctual. Now, despite a stabilizing of fine china incidents in recent years, the cathartic hurling of expensive dish-ware is on the rise again, according to recent reports from the kitchen product magazine Forksight.

“20% of assault cases report cracked porcelain against the walls, 27% for kidnappings, 80% for white collar fraud, and a whopping 93% for domestic disputes,” writes James Drandall. “These kind of numbers haven’t been seen since Prohibition was put into effect.”

“There’s no doubt that dish-throwing is back,” says Jerry Plotski, a local police officer. Mr. Plotski says that the majority of cases he reports on these days are grisly scenes with cracked finery strewn across the ground. “Even at a crime scene that’s outside, say on the freeway or something, I’ll find a couple broken dishes. It’s like people are carrying these things around just to throw them. Vicious.”

Amidst all the ceramic carnage, fine china advocates are searching for an answer as to why these incidents have now been increasing after a steady decade of quieting down.

“We want to know why people are losing respect for these beautiful dishes,” says Linda Barstali, a member of the poorly named People’s Group for China (PGC). Ms. Barstali points out that one of the greatest clues we have is what variety of dishes are being broken and by whom.

“It used to be,” continued Ms. Barstali, “that you would never see the real beautiful stuff being thrown. Most dishes that got broken were Kmart brand or Target, something relatively cheap. Now whenever I go to the scene of the crime, I’m seeing Mikasa Italian Countryside, I’m seeing Waterford Ballet Ribbon. Last week I even saw an entire Portmeirion Botanic Garden 17 piece starter set just completely smashed on the ground, dishes with a retail of over $400.”

Dish-throwing, as countless mid-life crisis movies such as American Beauty have shown us, is by no means limited to the lower class, yet historically the numbers have shown a higher percentage among lower and lower-middle class dish-owners. Now it seems that things are turning around, and more than ever, expensive dishes living in what once were considered safe families have reason to fear. Randy Newminz, a 43-year-old admitted dish thrower, attributes the rise in fine china violence to the mounting economic and political stresses our country is going through.

“There’s a lot to worry about out there and it puts people on edge,” says Newminz. “I’m trying to support my daughter who can’t find a job after she just got her degree, I’m trying to put my other daughter through college. I’m trying to fill my tank and I’m trying to figure out which candidate is going to help me do all these things and I’m stressed out. I should have just sold the [beautiful] dishes on eBay, but I broke them on the wall instead.”

While official statements from dish manufacturers speak of “protecting the inherit grace of the objects and not wasting precious craftsmanship,” it is clear that they couldn’t be happier. All those people who break their dishes are being forced to buy new ones. Many of the top designer brands have introduced cheap, utilitarian lines to try to hold on to customers like Mr. Newminz who break their dishes out of frustration and anxiety over their financial futures and would feel disinclined to replace the dishes with expensive china.

Police say they would like to do something about the dish-throwing problem, but that to do so would be out of their bounds.

“There’s really nothing we can do about it,” says Mr. Plotski. “If you were to hurt someone with the dish, we could get you for it, but other than that, as long as it’s your dish and it’s your home, you can smash it against the wall all you like.”

Moments later, sweaty but with a mouth fun of Funyuns, I sat down with McBride on the porch of her Los Angeles bungalow. Eyes bright and glittering, she recounted for me the exciting afternoon five days ago when her life changed forever. The sun was setting over the City of Angels, the thick layer of smog on the horizon caused the evening light to take on a warm, reddish glow. I had just finished my Funyuns, thrown the crumpled bag half-heartedly towards the gutter and wiped my greasy fingers on my khakis. I breathed in deep, the aromatic smells of car exhaust at my nostrils and leaned back, my elbow making a head-on collision with the prize saguaro of the McBride Family cactus garden. After several minutes of cursing and Mrs. McBride chastising me while pulling spiny little knives of my arm, I decided I wasn’t getting paid enough for this and drove my Yugo the mile back to my house.

Once there, I logged onto the internet. I thought, what better way to express this intriguing little bit of news than going straight to the source? I mean, the first lesson of journalistic integrity is to get it from the horse’s mouth, right? Lesson Number Two is how to Copy & Paste. I didn’t go to Journalism School or anything but I’m pretty sure that’s how this works. So. Without further ado:

Hey everyne: Sk8trLvr69 here. Check it out! K. So I;m just like totally walking down Venice Blvd right cause I have this thing on my arm, it;s like totally gross I won;t even go there but that’s where my doctor is. So I;m walking walking walkingboring and I pass McFishy’s Fish Shack with has like this totally rad outdoor seating area I guess you’d call it a patio and I see this guy. Red hair. Beard. Sunglasses. You know wear this is going, I know! IT”S CHUCK FREAKING NORRIS!!!!! I could not believe it. I totally whipped out my phone to take a pic but then I realized he woudl totally see me and I have to act chill for the Nor-man, right? He like invented kicking ass. And dude. The best part. He is like eating a fish sandwich. Just totally chowing down. He must LOVE fish sandwiches. It was totally the highlight of my lfie. Ok gg. So Sorry I didn;t get a pic but you wouldn;t either if you were in the pressence of the Nor. My brother Jaime is like this totally amazing drawer and he’s going to sketch a pic later which I;ll totes post asap. Peace out for now.

McBride posted the above commentary at 2:34pm and it immediately became an internet phenomenon. By 3:45pm that same day there were seven Facebook groups dedicated to the sighting, with “Fishy Norris” and “Chuck + Cod = <3” competing for most members. By 4:30pm a T-shirt depicting Norris punching a fish and reading “Gotta have my sammies” was sold out and McBride’s post had been accessed more times than the Otter Holding Hands, Lion Hug, and Panda Sneeze videos combined.

PAW-PALS, just one long (very sharp) claw of a month after its grandiose opening, has gone out of business. PAW-PALS set up shop on the corner of Jefferson and Oak, in what for decades was the much beloved Smitty’s – providing overpriced liquor and under priced prostitutes to the townsfolk. Now the edifice is hung with banners announcing “Liquidation SALE,” “Everything Must Go,” “ATM INSIDE,” “CLOSED,” and “Mailboxes, Etc. Coming Soon.”

The concept for PAW-PALS came to being solely through founder and owner, Jeffrey Sentose, respected local businessman. “I dreamed up the notion of PAW-PALS,” Sentose reports, “while walking my cat one crisp autumn morning. I ran into my neighbor upon the sidewalk. She too was out to stretch her legs and while she shares with me the characteristic of owning a cat, she was, at the current moment, sans feline.”

A life-long pet lover and avid pet aficionado, the neighbor, Janice Hines, stopped to admire Sentose’s four-legged companion (the cat). She cooed for several minutes at the furry friend, seeming to believe the feline to be some sort of small child and, upon completion of the necessary baby-babble, announced that her own cat and Mr. Sentose’s cat should “get together sometime. Ya know, like a play date.”

Now, close family and friends have described Mr. Sentose as a man “born with dollar signs in his eyes.” So, not one to miss an opportunity to cash in on a great idea, Sentose lit up like a light. The next week, Smitty’s was out of business and PAW-PALS was ordering seven Bounce-Houses for the ceremonious commencement.

PAW-PALS was founded on this idea of “cat play dates” and offered a space, much like an indoor “cat park” or “kitten jungle-gym” or “meow-meow obstacle course.” Cat owners could, for a small fee, bring in their felines to mix and mingle with other local gatos. The shop, Sentose promised, would thrive and bring a much-needed boost to the economy of the neighborhood. His premise, unfortunately, was flawed at best.  Now, a month after its humble beginnings, PAW-PALS has deserted this town like ants leaving a flooded picnic.

Many cannot understand why the business did not succeed. However, as local cat expert (or Catspert) Giles Walker reported, “cats don’t like other cats.” Shedding more light on the situation, he continued, “there’s a reason you don’t see cat parks.” And elaborating on his hypothesis, “cats don’t enjoy being around other cats. They are territorial animals that hiss and fight and generally do not get along.”

Reporters have been unable to obtain eyewitness testimony, with everyone who observed the collapse of PAW-PALS at home “licking their wounds.” The only leads reporters could latch onto were police noise disturbance reports by neighbors complaining of “frequent mrrrowwwwwwwws [sic] loud and shrill enough to chill the bones of any man,” as well as city sanitation committees reporting street sweeper brushes full of hairballs. City officials have taken to calling the incident a real “catastrophe.”

Sentose was not available for comment on the shattering of his dreams. He is currently receiving treatment at the Good Samaritan Hospital for claw-inflicted wounds.