Poor Hugh M. Hefner.  (Or as friends like me call him, “Hef.”)  His beautiful fiancee Crystal Harris, has called off their wedding.

And talk about the last minute – the blushing bride-to-be had her change of heart yesterday, and the big day was supposed to be this Sunday!  Sure, it’s better than getting stood up at the altar, but still!  C’mon, Crystal, you couldn’t have given Hef more of a heads up?  It takes him a while to get places, you know!

I don’t know what is wrong with this world we live in.  Gay marriages are illegal in most states (come on, New York, we’re already late to this party, but we can still do the right thing!), and now, a rich 85 year old man gets thwarted in his attempts to marry a woman just 60 years his junior.  Is nothing scared anymore?

But Hef, if you’re reading this (he might!), look at this wedding cancellation as a blessing in disguise.  Nobody likes to get rejected, and of course it would stung to get left for a younger man (if she is in fact running around with Dr. Phil’s son – no, not the one who’s already married to one of three Miss December 1998’s Erica Dahm, the other son.  I mean, what on earth could she possibly have in common with a fella born in the same year as her??)

But honestly Hef, why would you want to be tied down at the tender young age of 85?  Your best bachelor years are still ahead of you!  Sure, some people will say it’s creepy for a man in his late 80’s, 90’s, and even over 100 to be sleeping with 19 year old girls.  But hey, they thought the same thing when you were in your 40’s and 50’s – and that sure didn’t stop you!  Remember Barbi Benton?  (No, really, do you?  BARBI BENTON!)  She was a super fox back in the day.  And you were what, 43 when she was 19?  That had plenty of ick factor then, but when you think that it was OVER FORTY FRIGGIN YEARS AGO, and you’ve been happily bedding younger gals ever since (and for many years before as well!), it just becomes damn impressive.

Look, I’m not disparaging the institution of marriage, I’m just saying that, given your current age and lifestyle, it simply isn’t practical.  Growing old alongside someone you love sounds great and all, but that tends to work better when you both are starting off on similar footing.  And let’s be pragmatic – you’re going to live for a long time – your mother was a centenarian, after all.  So when you’re 100, Crystal will be FORTY.  Yikes.  In your twilight years, do you want to be waking up every morning next to a woman in her forties??  Of course not.  You want to be waking up next to a bevvy of blonde bimbos who’s names you can’t remember.  And while that may be the dream of many a common man, for you that can ACTUALLY HAPPEN!

What else would you need to get married for?  Kids?  You had two kids with your first wife that are now in their fifties.  You had two kids with your second wife who are now 19 and 21.  Given as how your first two kids didn’t have any kids of their own, you effectively had your own grandkids.  Plus, you have millions of loyal subscribers who look up to you as a father figure.  So your legacy is completely ironclad.  More kids would just make splitting up your empire when you do eventually pass away more of a headache. (Besides, you’re probably going to be in adult diapers before too long – do you also want to be changing a baby’s diapers too?)

Nah, the way I see it, you’re way better off this way, Hef.  It will sting for a bit, I know, but you’ll quickly find comfort in a new pretty young thing.  Or two.  Or a dozen!  (Hey, you’re on the rebound!)  And before long, you’ll be asking yourself, “Crystal Who?”  That may in fact be the result of senility, but the important thing is that your painful memories will be long gone.

And you’ll be happy.  I just know it.

This whole Twitter thing is a bit beyond me- I admit it.

I signed up for an account for Nick’s Marathon (@NicksMarathon), but I don’t think I really ever got the hang of it.  I tried to tweet @ folks and use some hashtags, but I think it is safe to say that I did not set the Twitter-verse on fire.  Oh well.

But I saw Time’s article of The 140 Best Twitter Feeds and my curiosity was piqued.  Apparently, there are some pretty funny feeds out there – written by fictional characters – that I had yet to discover.  (The politicians and pundits and the corporate accounts may be wonderful, but they simply don’t interest me.  Sorry, @SarahPalinUSA!)

Tracy Jordan, the fictional and hysterical character Tracy Morgan plays on 30 Rock, has a Twitter account, where he says things like, “My genius has come alive! Like toys when your back is turned.”

Homer Simpson has a feed where he says things like, “Either I just met a delightful Leprechaun, or I got mugged by a vicious 9 year old.”  I’ve been there, man.

But the best discovery from the Time article was this one – @JerkSuperman.  Yeah, it’s written by a mean, vindictive, and very funny version of The Man of Steel – like the one Clark Kent beats up in Superman III!  Some great bon mots from his feed:

I love having dinner with Aquaman. I get fish and chips, he gets a salad and cries. Good times.

Superman’s Guide to Beating Someone With Kryptonite: 1) Fly into space. 2) Commence heat vision aerial bombardment. 3) Lunch.

Could I beat Batman in a fight? Hmm… does killing him with eye lasers or dropping a building on him while he’s asleep count? Then yes.

Great, wonderful stuff.  I think it’s perfectly acceptable for @NicksMarathon to follow these fictional folks, don’t you?

If you weren’t paying attention (traitor!) on Sunday, here’s the video.

Didja notice what was wrong? The correct words are, “Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming.” Christina reworked those lines into: “Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, what so proudly we watched at the twilight’s last reaming.” Francis Scott Key was likely not amused, were he watching from the great Superbowl party in the sky.  I mean,”‘twilight’s last reaming?”  What the hell does that even mean?

But hey, we all make mistakes, right? So the Brooklyn Cyclones, the Mets’ Class A minor league team, has offered Christina a chance to sing the National Anthem at one of their home games this season.  Will she do it?  Probably not – the team offered her not just the chance to sing, but also a lyric sheet to make sure she can get it straight this time.

(As an aside, I do recommend going to a Cyclones game if you can – the tickets and concessions are a lot cheaper than at a major league park, and you may even catch some players working their way through rehab assignments or going for a comeback Kenny Powers style!)

If you haven’t already, go and read this interview with Bill Murray from GQ.  This is a guy who does not like to give long revealing interviews, and this one is a gem.  He talks about Ghostbusters 3, Garfield, Quick Change, his love of Kung Fu Hustle, and his hatred of Seinfeld(!).  I really love the way he describes things in pop culture – “the show that has the girl from Saturday Night Live” is how he describes Parks and Recreation.  He sounds like my step-dad!  (Chuck, that’s a compliment of the highest magnitude, by the way.)

It’s hard to summarize what he says, so I suggest you just click on over and read the interview for yourself, and enjoy.

On Saturday night, I got to meet geek godess Olivia Munn.  Jealous?  You should be.  Olivia, for the uninitiated, is the co-host of G4’s Attack of the Show.  And she’s a new correspondent on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart (which she does not think is sexist, by the way).  And she’s a comedian, and she also just wrote a book.

And, as Courtney pointed out, she’s also really pretty.  I, being so perpetually blinded by my wife’s beauty, hadn’t noticed until she mentioned it.

Anyway, Olivia Munn stopped by our local book store for a reading from her new book and to sign copies.  I spoke to her briefly, and I gotta say she is a very friendly and funny lady in person.  I’m only a few chapters into the book, but between that and what she read, I am happy to endorse ‘Suck It, Wonder Woman’ with the Official Alannoah.com Seal of Approval.

This is so ridiculous, I don’t even know where to begin.

First off, how about the fact that she is suing them for $100 million dollars.  ONE HUNDRED MILLION DOLLARS.  Where did she get that number, from Dr. Evil?  Doesn’t she realize how insanely ludicrous that is?  Even if this lawsuit wasn’t the craziest thing ever (it is), how can she expect it to be taken seriously when she is asking for such an astronomical figure?

Secondly, she is saying that by naming the “milkaholic” baby in the ad Lindsay, eTrade has violated her privacy by using her “likeness, name, characterization, and personality.”  Really?  Are you serious?  Watch the commercial again:

Now, remember, she is saying that the baby infringes upon Ms. Lohan’s “likeness, name, characterization, and personality.” Let’s break this down one at a time, shall we?
This baby shares Lindsay Lohan’s likeness? Lohan is 23, that baby is what, 1? They look nothing alike.
They share a first name, I’ll give her that.
So, how does a fictional baby share a characterization with a celebrity? Well, the baby is described as a milkaholic, and Lindsay Lohan has battled alcohol and drug addiction. Yeah… but… so? I’m sure there are lots of people named Lindsay who have been addicted to things; should they all get to sue, too? Not to mention – couldn’t most babies be characterized as milkaholics? (Eli sure could be!)
She also thinks this baby – who is made to TALK VIA THE MAGIC OF COMPUTER EFFECTS, by the way – has stolen her personality. Well, she clearly must not hold herself in very high regard, because Baby Lindsay’s one line in the ad is “milk-a-what?” Is Lohan saying that she can’t pronounce the made up word milkaholic? I’m sure she could if she tried.

Then there’s the whole part about how the name Lindsay is now synonymous with Lindsay Lohan, that she has the same level of “single-name recognition” as Oprah or Madonna. Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that Lindsay Lohan is as famous the world over as Oprah and Madonna. Well, here are some fun facts for you:

Oprah is watched by over 20 million viewers every single week in the United States, and that figure isn’t counting the other 100+ countries her show is sent to.

Madonna has sold over 200 million albums over the course of her career, is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and was ranked second on the 2008 Billboard Hot 100 All-Time Top Artists list. (Number one were the Beatles.)

Lindsay Lohan was in the well-received movie Mean Girls, and had a hit song “Rumors,” both in 2004. After that she released a second lackluster album, and starred in the movies Just My Luck and I Know Who Killed Me. Remember them?

Also, Oprah and Madonna have the names Oprah and Madonna! Mentally, go through your friends and family and acquaintances. How many Oprahs and Madonnas do you know? None? Me too! How about Lindsays? Know a few? Who doesn’t? Know why? Because it’s a common name!

Sorry for ragging on a fellow Long Islander, but come on Lindsay, this is absolute lunacy, and on some level, you have to know it. And besides, those talking baby commercials are cute and funny. So leave the talking babies alone, OK???

A little after a year after we first saw Ricky Gervais live, Courtney and I saw him again last night at Hunter College. (Thanks for the tickets, Bruce!) It was a small venue, and he was testing out material for a new HBO special. While his routine wasn’t 100% refined, that was pretty much the point, and it was great hearing his new stuff. Bits about Noah’s ark, homosexuality in the animal kingdom, and his fear of flying were all really funny. And it’s his fantastic delivery that really sells it… Courtney and I were talking after the show, and we agreed that if another comedian did the same jokes, they would be far less funny.

Now I’m really excited to see what becomes of the material – if it ends up in his next special, and how it changes. In the meantime, we’ll have to catch The Invention of Lying on DVD, and he’s hosting the Golden Globes next year, which should be fantastic. AND they’re airing the original Office on Adult Swim, if I’m in dire need of an awkward moment fix…

Don’t worry John Hughes, we won’t forget about you.

OJ Simpson will not be remembered as a great football player.
Phil Spector will not be remembered as an amazing music producer.

Michael Jackson *will* be remembered as an amazing musician.

Now, sure, Spector was convicted, and even though Simpson was acquitted of the murder charge, he will always be guilty in the court of public opinion. And even though a lot of people are convinced Jackson liked kids a little too much, there are a great many people who think he was railroaded and accused of horrific acts when in fact he was just acting innocently albeit foolishly. I’m not convinced one way or another, but I do know that I would have never let the King of Pop babysit MY kids.

And yeah, he acted crazy and looked creepy in recent years. And sure, he didn’t put out a good album in well over a decade. But there is no denying that his music, with the Jackson 5 and most of his solo stuff, is amazing pop music.

So, just in case you haven’t been hearing all of his greatest hits everywhere else today, a few of my personal favorites:

There are many more great videos, and many great songs without videos, as well as some not so great ones, but hey… RIP, Michael.

I thoroughly enjoyed the brief first season of Eastbound & Down, and even though the star, Danny McBride, had help from great cameos, he really carried the show. I’m not particularly dying to see Land of the Lost, but McBride did an interview in Maxim this month to promote the movie in their “24 Hours to Live” column. The whole thing is linked here, but the last line of this answer is maybe one of the funniest sentences I’ve ever read (cleaned up for my family-friendly site):

Q: You play a substitute gym teacher on HBO’s EastBound & Down. Was there a class in school that was the equivalent of hell?

A: Math has always been my archnemesis, my hell on Earth. I hate showing my work. And fractions can go f*** themselves.