John Lennon wanted me to remind you, on this God-Thanking Friday, that love really is all you need. That's it. Just love. All you need is love. Nothing else. Love. Well, ok, all you need is love, and for that pesky restraining order to get dropped. But aside from that, love is all you need - oh, and maybe a decent pick-up line or two. So, get the restraining order dropped, get a workable pick-up line to throw out there, and then love is all you need. Actually, a nice mix tape featuring Luther Vandross, Michael Bolton, Kenny G, and Aaron Neville would be nice, too.

Ok, so love, no restraining order, a pick-up line, and a good power-ballads mix tape. Get all that together, and love is ALL you need.

Nope, now that I think of it, you'll probably also need your medications to try and keep that whole Tourette's thing under control; and it wouldn't hurt at all to secure a few packs of Dentyne Shiver Mint; oh, and you need to sober up, so grab a biggie-size coffee while you're out.

But really, after the restraining order cancellation, the effective pick-up line, the mix tape, the anti-Tourette's pills, some gum, and a large coffee, LOVE IS ALL YOU NEED. Period.

And a half-pound of bacon.

Actually, you know what? The bacon will suffice. Just get the bacon. Bacon is all you need.

I don't have a problem admitting that I eat fast food from time to time. It's a vice, ok? I'm not proud of it, and I have many, many other vices to choose from when I finally get over this one, so I'm not going to sweat it. It's a little like watching a train wreck, really; I have a morbid curiosity when a fast food chain adds a new item to their menu. I got snookered by the Arby's "Roastburger" (all roast, no burger!); I waited in line for the Burger King "Angry Whopper" (with time and therapy, I have almost completely settled back down); I took my chances with Wendy's "Spicy Asian Chicken" (actually, this was pretty good).

So when Burger King introduced their new Transformers-themed menu and began offering a double-stack burger with freakin' BBQ sauce, I wanted to try it. Meat, cheese, bacon, BBQ sauce, bacon, a sesame bun, bacon ... train wreck! And I marveled at the utter brilliance of the whole thing: you see, it's just like the old BK Stacker burger, except ... shhhh ... they added BBQ sauce!



With trembling lip and weak knees, I wandered into the lunch line, slowly snaking its way toward the counter, where a porcine and ample-skinned woman waited to eventually take my order. And really, I was going to order that double-stacked BBQ burger, until I saw it on the menu, heralded by the words: "The New BK Double Stackticon!" That was when it all changed for me, my friend.

I was with them until they did the goofy play-on-words thing. It's a Transformers 2 tie-in, and the bad robots in Transformers are called the "Decepticons" (oh, how I dearly wish that I could say I had no knowledge of such things). So there it is: "double-stack" plus "Decepticon" equals "burger meal cleverly re-named to sound like a childish robot toy".

I do have some sense of self-awareness and dignity, really, I do. I am a grown man. Ok, ok, the "grown" adjective is heavily disputed in my case, I see your point. But I am a man. Alright, FINE, that statement is also hotly contested by those who know of my abiding love for fine fragrances and expensive moisturizers. But I do exist - can we all agree on that? And as someone who exists (PUT YOUR HAND DOWN, WE'LL TALK AFTERWARDS, OK?!), I really could not bring myself to stand in front of another adult human being and say the words, "I would like the double stackticon, please."

Couldn't do it.

Might as well try to stand at the counter and say, with any sense of self-respect, "I'd like to order to Mickey-Rin-Ticky Dilly-Woggle Beefy-Weefy Dub-dub-Cheezer Portly Platter, but make it snappy, the mayor is waiting for me to join him on a top-secret mission to Uranus."

So I got to the counter, looked her square in the eye, and then gestured wildly at the menu sign while grunting incoherently. Oddly enough, I got my burger, and managed to preserve my dignity.

Words! Hooray!

I like words. I love words. I dream in words. I eat words for breakfast. I take words with me to the movies. I lather up, rinse, and repeat - not with words, with shampoo, but believe me, I'm either thinking of words or actually speaking words the whole time. If I could, I would marry words, then fight with words constantly for years and years, and end up going to marital counseling with words, just so we could have a stronger relationship in the end.

It hardly needs to be said, then, that I become weepy and emotionally unbalanced when I have to drive all over town at 1:30 in the morning, and can't find a single Wendy's that is still open and able to help me satisfy my sudden craving for a Baconator. Oh, and also, I become visibly upset and start fondling my Celtic cursing stone when people abuse words.

For the enrichment of all, I take the time to draw attention to a few commonly abused phrases. The purpose, of course, is not to make you, personally, feel bad for possibly having abused these phrases yourself. The purpose is to learn something new and correct old habits, so you can then put on elitist airs and begin making other people feel bad for abusing these phrases. And by "make other people feel bad for abusing the language", I obviously mean, "beat the living trough-muck out of them until they either call the police or promise to stop abusing our beloved mother tongue". Ha ha! Not really! Don't inflict physical harm on anyone after reading this, ok? Just, you know, tell the offenders that they're worse than Hitler, and leave it at that.

It begs the question - If there is no argument being had, and someone says, "well, it really begs the question", chances are pretty good that there is no question-begging going on anywhere in the near vicinity. The phrase means "you have made an assumption that has yet to be proved".

So, for example, if you're arguing with a friend about which movie to see, and he says to you, "Public Enemies is going to be a crappy movie, because Johnny Depp is a terrible actor", you may rightly respond, "that just begs the question". Your friend has assumed as fact, without proof, that Johnny Depp is a terrible actor, and has drawn a conclusion ("the movie will be bad") based on that assumption. He has begged the question. (Note: this does not apply to movies starring Seth Rogan, in which cases it is always safe to say, "This movie is going to blow chunks if only because Seth Rogan [is the star/makes a cameo/was anywhere near the set during filming]")

In most cases, when someone says, "it begs the question", what they mean is that a question has been raised. Example: "I heard Seth Rogan is making a new movie, but he's such a mammoth chewer of scenery, it really begs the question, who is still hiring him to act in movies?" Utterly true statement, but a wretched abuse of the phrase.

It was all for not - This is one of those phrases that gets heard incorrectly first, then misunderstood, then spelled incorrectly in a company-wide memo that is emailed to the entire West Region. However, since the memo was sent by the Division Executive Chair of Directives and Corpulence, everyone in the cube farm assumes the phrase was spelled correctly, and the next thing you know, the error is being perpetuated exponentially by well-meaning pencil-pushers who are trying to sound as smart as they assume their superiors are ("smartness" here being measured in units of Lexus ownership).

"Naught" means "nothing", and so the phrase "it was all for naught" means that it - whatever it is (probably a Seth Rogan movie) - was a waste of time, or did not accomplish anything. Example: "I worked long and hard on that manuscript and spent many sleepless nights, but I never got a book contract, so it was all for naught."

HOWEVER! "Naught" sounds like "not" (especially if you are possessed of that lilting, mellow nasality so common to the Michigan dialect), and so the phrase gets the stuffing kicked out of it when it appears in writing as the rather confusing, "it was all for not". I'm looking right at you, Herr Direktor.

I feel nauseous - Part of me wants to put this one to bed once and for all, but another part of me hopes that it lives on forever, so that I can continue enjoying my own private little joke inside my head. But, hey, he who laughs alone laughs creepily, so I'll let you in on the punchline: to be "nauseated" means to feel sick to your stomach; "nauseous" means causing a feeling of sickness. Thus, that rancid meat pie was nauseous, and after I ate six slices of it, I felt nauseated.

What's the joke? That so many people use the word "nauseous" in reference to themselves, i.e., "I'm nauseous", little realizing that they've just admitted to being a cause of queasiness to others. Sometimes, when someone leans up against me at the bar, reeking of cheap whiskey and stale cigarette smoke, and gurgles the phrase, "I'm so nauseous right now", I chuckle to myself and quietly agree.

Nip it in the butt - Ok, last one. The phrase is "nip it in the bud". Just ask Don Knotts. The "bud" in question refers to the bud of a flowering plant, and to "nip" said plant in the aforementioned "bud" is to stop the flowering process early, preventing it from ever reaching full bloom. The phrase "nip it in the bud" is used to describe an action intended to stop something from making progress. In my experience, any "nipping" that took place near the "butt" area, rather than the "bud" area, tended to lead to making progress rather than stopping it.

I have done a fair bit of traveling in my day ("my day", by the way, is Thursday - make a note of it). As someone who strives at all times to be a courteous and conscientious driver, I always make an attempt to be very aware of my surroundings. I believe it is part of practicing safety on the road to be aware of things: I watch the speed limit signs, I notice the mile markers, I read billboards, I try to make words out of the letters on license plates, I give my fullest attention to the person on the other end of my phone call, I hone in on that song on the radio (I'm pretty sure they used this song in that one movie (gosh, what movie was that, with the one guy, sort of old-looking but very familiar (he was in that other movie that was popular a few years ago, with George Clooney, I think (I'm pretty sure I'm thinking of Batman, one of the newer ones, not the classic (did Tim Burton direct all of those films, or just the first two that starred Michael Keaton (why the heck is Tim Burton so ve--WHOA, WAS THAT A RED LIGHT?!

A moment, please, while I clean up those orphaned parenthesisesess: )))))). There. Thank you.

As I was saying, I notice things while I'm driving, and among the many things I notice are those wonderfully random items that sometimes end up on the side of the road. How do they get there? Who put them there? And why? Probably it fell off the back of a truck, as in the case of that chunk of cork-board, or that large metal casing; or perhaps it was thrown out a window, in the case of that empty 44 oz. Taco Bell cup, or that slightly worn Spin Doctors CD.

Other items are not so easy to explain. Who put that old dusty couch on the side of the highway, for the love of Pete? Why in the name of Sam Scratch is there a discarded bookshelf and television set just past the exit ramp?

Well, to be perfectly honest, these questions don't keep me up at night. Instead, they provoke a sense of longing - a longing to see other inexplicable and curious things on the side of the road. I don't just mean random objects; I mean truly interesting road-side arrangements, of the sort that cry out for some kind of back-story. Here are just a few examples of the kinds of things I'd like to see:

- A dead raccoon, clutching Boardwalk in one hand, and Baltic Avenue in the other

- A scattering of electric toothbrushes, surrounding one half-eaten bucket of popcorn chicken from KFC

- A toilet, with a folded newspaper beside it (even better if the newspaper is open to either the obituaries, or the used RV sales section)

- A crumpled tuxedo with a pair of bowling shoes on top

- A television and VCR combo, plugged into a running generator, in the process of recording an episode of "Car Talk"

Seeing any one of those things would make my day. So enigmatic, so intriguing, so rich with meaning, if only someone would take the time t--YIKES YIKES YIKES THAT WAS DEFINITELY A RED LIGHT THAT TIME!