Well, do you punk?

I hate to harp on the Canadian National Anthem thing, but last night, I found a vintage example of just how wonderfully awkward it can be. I suppose that it's less of an international incident than this, but still, I'm angry.

Today, America is wondering where Suri Cruise is. Because apparently, we have a Constitutional right to invade the lives of celebrity parents and take pictures of their children. It's the American way! Britney Spears is probably babysitting. America needs something better to do.


And on to the news:

Ever wonder what grandpa is doing in his spare time?
(They're starting older and older these days)

There's a kangaroo on the loose in North Dakota.
(If seen, call 1-800-What-The-Hell)


Destroying your childhood, one YouTube video at a time:

Keeping with our Bob Saget theme this week.


Other Interesting Things:

Yesterday, the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Awards were passed out for the world's worst fiction writing. Congratulations (?) to winner Jim Guigli. The runner-up, however, could serve as a motto for this blog:

"I know what you're thinking, punk," hissed Wordy Harry to his new editor, "you're thinking, 'Did he use six superfluous adjectives or only five?' - and to tell the truth, I forgot myself in all this excitement; but being as this is English, the most powerful language in the world, whose subtle nuances will blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' - well do you, punk?"

Also: I love Engrish.com


And finally:

Tonight is apparently the WNBA All-Star Game. Let me guess. You didn't know that either. No word on who won the WNBA slam dunk contest.

That's your Wednesday update. Until next time, because this time was indeed better than last time. I am and will continue to be the Pizza Cutter. This has been the Foreign Intelligence Files.