Michael Northrop

Here they are, listed, as usual, in the order I thought of them . . .

1) America’s Got Talons

Elimination round…

2) So You Think You Can Pounce
3) Jersey Shoal
4) Wife Swamp
5) Dirty Jerboas
6) Undercover Bass
7) Catty Gibbon: My Life being Deloused
8] Wild vs. Man
9) John & Kate: As Bait
10) Dancing with the Steers

So I was just at 7-11 and the guy in front of me in line was buying $175 worth of Mafia Wars game cards. Now, I play me some Mafia Wars—it’s on Facebook, like Farmville—but I’ve never bought a game card. Have I considered it? I guess: Maybe a $10 nudge to help me finish off a particularly tough “job tier” in “Bangkok.” But I’ve never done it because A) it’s a ridiculous waste of $10, and B) I didn’t want to be that guy. And now I’ve met that guy!

Yes, but if it’s $175 of your own, real money, you are an incredible tool!

Apparently, you can only buy $100 worth at a time—so as not to upset the delicate ecosystem of online organized crime. This guy had been around that block before, though, and was explaining it to the clerk. “No, no! You can only do four at once! You’ve got to close it out and start again.”

So the clerk sold him four, $25 cards for $100 (apparently there’s no sales tax on Mafia Wars game cards—good to know!), took his money, and then sold him three more cards and a pack of Marlboro Lights. Grand total: $187.12. Both times, the guy threw a $100 bill at the clerk, to show everyone in the rapidly growing line that he wasn’t, you know, a loser.

But he was a loser! And a smoker! And rude! And enormously fat! Just to be clear: He exceeded the legal limit on Mafia Wars! Hahaha! In fact, after he finished his complicated, illicit transaction and left, I made up a song about him. It goes:

Where did the loser go?
He’s quite the loser, though!

I hummed it all the way home. And now I’m going to play some Mafia Wars. But not that much, with no cigarette breaks, and for free.

I went for a run at the Central Park Reservoir yesterday. I did three laps, and my t-shirt was soaked through by the second. The path around the reservoir was full of tourists, and as usual, the Europeans were going the wrong way: walking clockwise in slow, ambling groups, right into the teeth of the type-A, Manhattan runners.

As I approached a group of Germans, I saw a little girl blindly pushing a stroller toward me. She was visible only as a mop of curly blond hair above the top of the thing and a pair of small pink hands along its sides. It seemed like I had plenty of Lebensraum to get by, but at the last second it was like someone radioed in a torpedo warning, because she veered due left, directly into my path. I literally had to hurdle it.

Replace the armored truck with a stroller, and you get the idea.

A stand-up stroller, turned sideways, is essentially an isosceles triangle, and I estimate that I cleared it at its midpoint. I was careful to lead with my left leg, which had to pass over the higher part of the slope, and trail my right. I made it with a few inches to spare. And so, once again, irrefutable Anglo-Saxon math triumphed over German aggression. The code-breakers at Bletchley Park would be proud.

An artist’s rendering of my leap.

There’s one of these signs on the corner of 77th and 1st. It’s for a product called Ezee-Flow (no relation to the Pearl Jam song).

I’m not saying “Frequent Bathroom Trips” aren’t a serious issue, but is “Guaranteed Relief” really the solution? Isn’t that kind of the problem?

This heat wave, it is The Suck. My electricity bill is twice as much as last month’s and my running totals are maybe half.

This stomach ache, it is The Suck. It reminds me of that one scene in Alien. You know the one.

“Ah! The Suck! It burns!”

The current Red Sox skid, it is The Suck. Are all the injuries finally catching up to them, or is this just the “summer swoon” that used to be such a (sucky) tradition?

This oil spill, it is The Suck. Wildlife rocks, but oil can only roll.

The death of Phil Harris, one of the captains from Deadliest Catch, is very sad. The fact that millions of us sort of watched it happen, through years of hard, carefully shot living, that is kind of The Suck.

Oddly, the fact that I am lying on the couch, cranking my expensive A/C and nursing an extraterrestrial stomach ache while watching Deadliest Catch on DVD is not The Suck. If my stomach could handle it, I’d raise a glass to the Captain. Instead, I’ll just watch him live the life he loved. And try to ignore the fact that the Sox lost to the frickin’ A’s today.

There are times when I’m glad I don’t have cable these days: I get more reading done, and I get outside more. And then there are times when I am very, very sad about it. Please witness the mind-melting splendor that is Sharktopus, a Syfy original movie, coming soon to a cable-equipped TV near you. Sigh. (On the plus side, I don’t think I’ll have to wait long for this to make it to video…)

The last time we discussed how to pick up a black mamba, the answer was pretty straightforward: “Very carefully.” This time, it’s a bit more complicated, because we are talking about Kurtis Scaletta’s new middle-grade novel Mamba Point. Begin by heading to your local bookstore. Peruse the shelves for this sleek creature. A fully grown specimen will look something like this:

If you don’t see it—and let’s be honest, many bookstores may be frightened by its razor sharp plot points—simply walk up to the counter. Once there, establish firm eye contact with the employee (they are notoriously skittish). Then repeat this phrase: “I would like to order a copy of Mamba Point, like the snake.” As you say this, make a dramatic two-handed snake fang sign:

The timing should be approximately as follows: [Hands at sides, seemingly relaxed] “I would like to order a copy of Mamba Point, like”—[begin strike!]—”the snake [finish strike, fingers pointing down at the floor, fangishly; these are your mamba points].”

A good strike will be almost too fast for the eye to follow!

The employee may jump back or just look at you quizzically. Feel free to adopt a cool, snake-face expression for emphasis.

Finally, drop your hands down to your side and leave your phone number or email address. As you turn to leave, nod at the helpful, possibly terrified employee, and say the following: “Fangs a lot!” Wait approximately 1 to 3 days for the book to arrive.

Here’s a little bit of awesome to start the week: A video for the new Yeasayer song culled from Karate Kid footage. None of that new Karate Kid junk, either: the original, with ChachiMachi. Fighters ready? And, begin!

This could have been so easy: A few more “Hut, Holland, huts,” a few more positive vibes sent toward the Dutch team… But no, you sat back in classic American indifference or, worse, cheered for Spain. Now, the Spanish have won, the Aztecs are pissed, it’s almost 2012, and far, far worse, Paul the Psychic Octopus has gone eight for eight in World Cup predictions. Eight for eight! Do you understand the significance of that? He’s an octopus—or is he?! Have you seen Paul? Doesn’t he remind you of someone?

See that little boat? That’s you. Jerk.

That’s right, Cthulhu. The Eighth Seal has been broken and The Dread One From Beyond Time, The Profane Abomination From Beyond Space, The Jerk Who Capitalizes Articles and Prepositions will rise, slap high 40 with his little cousin Paul, and set up Dark Dominion over our very existence. And it’s your fault. I hope you will be able to sleep at night, which, by the way, will now be endless.

Meet the child of tomorrow. His name is f’tevangh.

Paul the Psychic Octopus picks Spain over Netherlands in
the World Cup Final. He is six for six so far.

Octopuses (“octopi” is a mistake that caught on) may or may not be able to psychically predict the winners of World Cup games. It’s amazing that something made up almost entirely of arms knows so much about soccer, but that’s definitely not the only amazing thing about them. In fact . . .

The octopus is a mollusk, same as clams and scallops.
They have eight arms, three hearts, no bones, and a beak.
They can squeeze through pretty much any opening they can get their beak through.
Their beak is poisonous.
The suckers on their arms are used both to grab and to taste.
If they lose an arm, say by picking the wrong team, it will grow back, Wolverine-style.
They can change their skin color and texture to blend in with their surroundings or communicate.
They squirt black ink at attackers, and their blood is light blue.

The Giant Pacific Octopus lives in the cold waters off British Columbia, where they can grow up to 600 pounds, the weight of an adult brown bear.

Octopuses have exceptional eyesight and are extremely intelligent. They will watch carefully as someone puts food in a jar, screws on the lid, and drops it in their tank. Then they will grab the jar, unscrew the lid, and nom nom nom. The Giant Pacific Octopus may or may not do the same thing with Canadians.