Weekend Hipsters

Friday
We saw Wendy Liebman perform at a club.

The stranger across our table saw me. It was creepy. She kept staring at me. I'm not used to that kind of attention. I was eating with my mouth closed. My legs were crossed. My nose was clean. The caribou antlers were in the car on the hat hook. My shirt of thorns was fashionably tucked under a quilted sweater of Bounce® Gentle Breeze dryer sheets, "all the softening and static control protection of Bounce® with a crisp, light freshness of clothes dried in a cool breeze," as promised by Procter and Gamble, who did not compensate me for this endorsement, ingrates. My chest tresses were professionally thatched. I don't know what she saw in me. Quit it, lady. She's still thinking about me. Quit it, I say!

Saturday
From the transcript of an actual conversation:

Wife: (Proud to be showing me a new white laundry basket with an indentation on one side for comfort when holding it next to the waist.) Look at what I bought. It's called ''The Hipster.'' I love it!

Mike: Well, I'll start making you some dirty clothes, then.

Sunday
At the multiplex, I watched "Along Came Polly," "Teacher's Pet," and 20 minutes of "Looney Tunes: Back in Action." Meanwhile, Donna beheld "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King."

I couldn't endure her movie. I enjoyed the LOTR trilogy up until those stoopid walking, talking trees in part two. What's with that H. R. Pufnstuf junk? Where's Witchiepoo? Sheesh, I exited the Frodo flick never to return.

I insist films be realistic, like, say, "Teacher's Pet." It's about a dog who wishes to become a human boy, except the mad doctor fails to adjust for dog years, so the mutt is transformed into an adult. That's logical. The numbers add up. I'm a man of science.

::::: Wendy Liebman's Official Site