River Thames
1.3.2k8

I've been in a war with my college roommate for some time now. I don't know for sure when or how it started, but I know I just won.

Early in our relationship, when we were, in fact, college roommates in a dorm, we would spent every weekday evening in front of the tele watching reruns of "Hill Street Blues" on WGN. A great show, to be sure, but commercial television always had something going against it: Commercials. I've hated them forever, despite the irony of working in commercial post-production for many, many years. I made the most of the commercial breaks by calling every toll-free number , stating my name as my roommate's name - Phil - and ordering the money-back-guaranteed, free 90-day-trial of whatever product was advertised, all the while Phil sat listening to everything I said. He only shook his head and waited for Hill, Renko, Belcher and Capt. Furino to come back to us.

Days or weeks later the goods would arrive: Hair Club for Men™ demo videos, applications to Space Camp™, DiDiSeven™ stain-remover samples. A Clapper™. A Salad Spinner™. A Bowflex™ (Phil got kinda riled at that one.)

That we haven't lived together for some time has certainly slowed the frequency of me shipping him random things, but the dog still hunts: I sent him a package last week that contained an item costing $7.50 and requiring $6.50 in shipping, but it was worth it: I didn't know or care if Phil had a ball-pein hammer because he was gonna get one.

He got it a week later and called. "You've outdone yourself," he said, "never in a million years would I guessed that the box addressed to 'Assistant Herb Strewer Phil' contained what it did. I can think of a thousand uses for it and what's more, I know how to spell 'pein' now."

Missio Accomplishio.

Tonight - The El Knockout SF.

Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!

"Worst Music Ever"

bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!