Stay away from any girl that is currently occupied, including your best friend's

Generally speaking, according to most man laws, bro codes, and all other pacts of manship, your friends' exes are off limits. Obviously from time to time there are exceptions, but this it's even more important to lay off if they are only sorta broken up or just broke up. Treat just-released-on-DVD My Best Friend's Girl like it is your best friends girl--off limits. The story is mediocre, the acting is what you'd expect, and the ending is outrageously unbelievable. Dane Cook's character is hired by his best friend (Jason Biggs's character)(they call themselves cousins--oh cute) to date his recent ex (already forgot who played this part - oh, Kate Hudson) and be a top-notch dick rag to her. He does a good job, turning on obscene music and bringing her to a strip club--ultimate dick rag moves for a first date. But Kate Hudson's character is cool with raunch and apparently loves boobs flying in her face. At the end of the date, she's looking for adventure after recently breaking up with the all-too-nice Jason Bigg's character. She invites Dane Cook up for a little first date sex. Although he refuses this time, they break all bro codes, man laws and other general niceties of friendship, as Jason Biggs continues to lament over losing Hudson. In the end, he forgives Dane Cook and Kate Hudson and Dane Cook live happily ever after. It's one of those movies that leave you thinking what the f*ck just happened? My Best Friend's Girl should be off limits.

So I've got a cold. A lousy stinkin' cold. Or at least the beginnin's of one. After laying awake in bed last night with my throbbing throat denying my attempt at sleep, I got up to check what I purchased with my FlexSaver account money at the last minute in 2007.

In the past I've smacked the beginnin's of a cold in the face with Zicam. I swear it works miracles. So I was happy to find Zicam spoons in the closet. The gooey "tastless" zi-crap goo on the spoon was meant to stir into a drink--"hot or cold!" it boasted. I coudn't deny the urge to lick the cover. So I licked. And gagged. I've only gagged thrice in my life. None of them appropriate for television. This was the fourth - well suited for a TV sitcom. I moved on to stirring into the drink--cold ginger ale. The goo would not dissipate so I chugged goo-chunky ginger ale--couldn't be worse than naked tounge on goo. Altogether it probably won't list among the best moments of 2009, but this morning there was no throbbing throat, no headache, and no (full blown) cold. But even after 8 hours of sleep, I'm exhausted. Let's see how tonight goes.