The Crabby Cook - by Jessica Harper

You don’t hear much about St. Patrick’s day in Los Angeles. In New York it’s always so lively: parades and people barfing in the gutter. Here, it’s almost as much a non-event as Groundhog Day.

When my children were younger, there was more S.P.’s Day awareness in our house. This was because if I forgot to wear green on the day (which I invariably did since this was during the brain-challenged years), my children would pinch me mercilessly because they were taught at school that pinching is what leprechauns do to punish forgetful people like me. (That killer tuition was worth every penny.) Read More

So I heard on the news that the animal rights group PETA came up with the stunning idea of creating a line of tofu flavored with George Clooney’s sweat. I know, OMG, right? Who wouldn’t buy that?

Apparently someone at PETA got their hands on a gym towel soaked in Clooney’s persperation and, bang, the idea for CloFu was born. So far, Clooney doesn’t seem too excited about CloFu. (He’s reported to have said, “As a mammal, I’m offended.”) But PETA is not easily discouraged; I have faith they can make this thing happen.

By the way, if anyone at PETA is reading this, I would like to volunteer for the job of harvesting Clooney’s sweat. It’s something I’ve dreamed about many times, so I mean, it’s sort of like I’m virtually experienced and I could be good at this line of work. I would even defer a salary, if that makes me a more desirable candidate. Read More

So, here’s a story for you. A flight from Dubai empties at the Melbourne airport, a man is randomly yanked (by security) from the wad of disembarking passengers, and for once, they’ve picked a winner. (I myself have been pulled over many times, only to disappoint the friskers with no carry-on item more life-threatening than, well, once I was carrying a wrench. Long story.) The guy has, in his suitcase, an eggplant.

Okay, so far, not that interesting, I know, but then they tell the guy to drop his pants, apparently a routine request when you’re caught transporting an eggplant. (Thank God they don’t have the same rule for people carrying wrenches.)

He’s wearing black tights under his pants (always a red flag), raising suspicions (and eyebrows) and they tell him to drop the tights, too. And there, wrapped in padded envelopes and strapped to his legs, are two pigeons. Read More