This week's Suburban Fringe

Hey there kids - sorry for making you hunt for today's Fringe, but my editor decided not to run the column I wrote. Don't be upset with her - it's entirely her right to do such a thing; in fact, it's her job. She felt that the column I wrote was "just too gross, and not funny enough to offset the gross-out factor." And you know, she might be right.

But, since I know lots of folks can't stand a Tuesday without a Fringe, I'm posting it here, on my long-lost blog. Enjoy.

My life with the Smelly Cat

My cat stinks.

I don’t mean that in the figurative sense. He stinks. He smells bad. All the time.

There’s one reason for it, really. He is, to put it bluntly, insanely flatulent.

The cat in question is named Dexter. He’s the youngest of the three cats in our house. (Yeah, we have three cats. Yeah, we actually like it that way. And yeah, I realize that this makes me That Guy With All The Cats. In my defense, they are all very fuzzy.)

We’ve only had Dexter since around Labor Day, so we’re still figuring him out a little bit. A few things about Dexter are already apparent. First, even though he’s the youngest and smallest of our cats, he has already established himself as the alpha male in the household. Not that he had a lot of competition for the job; Frisco is something like 4,000 years old in cat years and only wakes up to eat or have a little “me time” in the litter box, and one-year-old Charlie is about as rough-and-tumble as a tub of baby wipes.

Second, we’re pretty sure Dexter is going to be straight-up enormous when he’s fully grown. He eats constantly and is growing faster than a fat kid locked in a burrito factory.

Third, he stinks.

I’ve never been around a living creature, animal or not, who breaks wind as often as Dexter. He cracks ‘em off like he gets paid to do it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve held him in my arms and had him look up at me lovingly while he softly fires a stink-biscuit into the crook of my elbow. It’s disgusting. Every single one is vile enough to make professional wrestlers weep like little girls.

The whole thing wouldn’t even be that much of an issue if he weren’t the most affectionate cat of the three. Dexter is more consistently desperate for attention than the average Rock of Love contestant. He sits outside our bedroom door every morning, waiting for us to open it so he can jump on the bed and sit on our faces. Literally, he sits on our faces. To him, this is the ultimate form of affectionate cuddling. To Colette and me, it’s like having a fuzzy breathing toilet on our heads. We push him away, but he’s not easily deterred. He usually tries to park himself on our faces two or three times before we give up. We try very hard not to think about what he might be leaving behind after we move him.

I don’t know what to do about it. We’ve tried a couple different kinds of food, but that doesn’t seem to make any difference. Everything he eats turns into gas, apparently. Maybe he’s just gifted in that way, not unlike my brother. Part of the problem might be that he almost never stops eating. He loves chow so much that even when he’s not eating, he’ll often hang around the food dish. It’s like he enjoys being in the company of his beloved kibble-nuggets.

Because he’s eating all the time, Dexter also hangs out in the litter box a lot. It’s kind of remarkable, actually. It’s like he can poo on demand. Every time I’m cleaning out the litter boxes, Dexter sits next to me and waits until I’m done. The moment I put the lids back on, he wanders into one of them and stinks it up like your Uncle Steve after Thanksgiving dinner. This happens every time. It’s like he has some kind of reserve tank in his bowels, so that he can be sure to have a loaded clip of ammo, so to speak, at all times. I don’t know whether to be impressed or horrified. Frankly, I think I’m a little bit of both.

I don’t know what to think about the whole thing. One of the reasons I have come to enjoy cats over the past few years is their remarkable ability not to smell bad. Dogs, for example, often smell. Most dogs only smell good while they’re actually in a bath. By the time you finish drying them off, they once again smell like that towel your roommate in college never bothered to wash and they can’t wait to enthusiastically rub that smell all over you. Cats are clean. If anything on their bodies might possibly generate an odor, they simply lick it off. This, of course, is entirely disgusting, but as long as they don’t care – and clearly they don’t – I am not of a mind to stop them.

Dexter can clean himself all he wants, but it’s of no use. His coat is shiny and clean, but he still smells like a military latrine the day after Taco Night. He can’t clean his intestinal tract with a few licks, you know. If he could, I think I’d have to confine him to a closet in the basement, because really, that just wouldn’t be cool at all. OK, yeah, it would be a little cool at first, but after a while, no.

We’re hoping that maybe this is all just a phase that Dexter is going through. After all, he’s still only five months old, and he has a lot of growing ahead of him. Maybe someday we’ll look back at the Stinky Times and laugh, and Dexter will develop the ability to smell like springtime daisies and fresh-baked cookies.

Of course, the opposite could happen as well. Maybe as he gets older, Dexter will discover entirely new levels of toxicity and develops smells never before seen on our planet. Maybe we’ll have to start changing his litter every hour in order to prevent it from collapsing under its own weight.

I guess for now we’re stuck waiting. And, unfortunately, smelling.

Bob Rybarczyk (brybarczyk@sbcglobal.net) writes stuff. When opportunity comes knocking, he assumes it’s a kid selling raffle tickets and hides in the kitchen. Look for his first novel, “Acoustic Kitty,” at area Borders stores and at online booksellers, and say hi to him on Facebook.

I'm not sure.

I was roller skating with my daughter last night, and it occurred to me that I wasn't sure which was dorker - being a terrible roller skater, or being a fantastic roller skater.

That's one heck of a toilet seat, lady.

So, this doesn't count as hate mail, but it is interesting mail.

I got an e-mail from someone named Tricia. It's obvious that Tricia works for a public relations agency. As someone who also works at a public relations agency, I can recognize my own kind, much like one zombie will recognize another and not eat its brain.

Unfortunately for Tricia, her client roster includes a company that makes luxury toilet seats.

No, really.

Here's the e-mail. (I took out the company's name and the names of its product lines because I didn't want Tricia to get in trouble with her client. Hopefully a maker of luxury toilet seats has a sense of humor, but I don't want to presume such a thing.)

Hi Bob;

Good afternoon. I hope that you’re doing well today and had a wonderful holiday weekend.

Last month, I had sent you information on a new client of ours, [Company]. [Company] manufacturers eco-friendly and luxurious toilet seats. I wanted to follow-up with you to see if you had any questions, would like samples or high res images.

Their [Brand A] line of high-tech toilet seats combines the latest innovation and design to bring you a new level of luxury and hygiene. With its warm air dryer, the [Brand A] 800 eliminates all need to use toilet paper – yes it’s true! In addition to the warm air dryer, the [Brand A] 800 includes a bidet, water and seat temperature controls, wireless remote control, germ resistant lid as well as many other features. Sheryl Crow can now really only use one piece of toilet paper!!

In addition to the [Brand A] series, [Company] also offers the [Brand B] – a line of deodorizing toilet seats which provide a more comfortable bathroom experience for your family and guests. No more embarrassing odors!! Now, your bathroom will smell of either Citrus & Eucalyptus, Rainforest or Jasmine & Lavender everytime a visit is paid.

To learn more about the [Company] line of eco-friendly toilet seats including the health benefits, visit [web site]. Sold at participating retailers nationwide, the [Company] Toilet Seats range in price from $155.00 to $920.00.

If you would like a press kit, high res images or samples, please let me know.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Yep, you read that right: eco-friendly luxury toilet seats. For a mere $920 each.

So awesome. I just had to share.

Haaaaate Mail!

Okay, I know, it has been WAY too long since I've blogged. In order to make it up to you, I have something exciting for you: hate mail.

If you're a fan of my writing at all, you know that I love hate mail. I like the regular fan mail, too, so don't you all go writing me nasty-grams just because. But true, bile-encrusted, nasty hate mail is sometimes way more fun.

I actually got this one a week ago, in response to my surprisingly popular column about my cat Charlie acting like a vampire. It's from some guy named John:

What a poor excuse you are. I am not surprised that you have a job at that horrid thing called a newspaper. It just shows how journalism has sunk over the years. You remind of a p**** who thinks he is cool but just needs a good a**-kicking. Your articles are not cute or funny. It is as if the rag just hired a 15 year old kid who likes to tell fart jokes or actually or more appropriately a 15 year old girl who fawns over boy bands. I know that I am wasting my time even writing a silly a** like you but I am amazed that you are not teaching AV at a poor school district and thinking you have what it takes to be an assistant at the school year book. Do not think that you have some talent. Sure you get paid but so do a******s like those freaks on Jacka**. People are laughing…at you and you are too stupid to know it. Now onto your next juvenile project. Maybe how you just discovered how to j*** off. Loser.

(I put the asterisks in there, by the way. Yeah, this is a blog, but I like to keep it clean here, since anyone can read it.)

Pretty cool, huh? This John guy really hates me. Must drive him crazy that I've been doing this column for seven years now...

Acoustic Kitty - now at Borders!

So I have a little bit of exciting news to share - ACOUSTIC KITTY is now available at three local Borders stores. You can get it at the Sunset Hills, Ballwin and Creve Coeur stores. Even better, the Sunset Hills location is going to have me come by for a book signing on Sunday, September 14. I don't know the exact time yet, but it'll be around 1:00 or 2:00 p.m. I'll let you know for certain once I find out more.

How I got to this point is actually kind of a cool story. I signed up for Facebook a few weeks ago and a woman named Susan added me as a friend because she is a fan of the Fringe. As it turns out, Susan's also the general manager of the Sunset Hills Borders store, and I remembered her because she had said hello to me when I was in the store about a week before that. (It was maybe the tenth time in the seven years of writing "Suburban Fringe" that I've been recognized in public - I'm still not used to it.)

We struck up an online conversation, Susan expressed interest in carrying KITTY in her store and a few of the other local Borders locations, and voila, I am now officially in Borders. Still not quite the same as being in bookstores coast to coast, but all things considered, I'm excited. Baby steps, people, baby steps. If KITTY does well, that might help me land an agent, which in turn would help me get a publishing deal, which in turn would get my book into stores all over the country.

As a "St. Louis-is-a-big-small-town" aside, my wife's cousin used to work at the Sunset Hills Borders and is friends with Susan. So we were only one or two degrees of separation apart to begin with. Facebook just closed the loop. Weird.

Well, okay, maybe that story was more interesting for me than it was for you. But still - at least now you don't have to wait for a copy in the mail if you don't want to. W00t!

Hilarity. Nonstop hilarity.

Overheard this morning while buying a soda at a gas station convenience store:

Clerk 1: Hey man. Have you ever seen a Jenny McCarthy movie called "Dirty Love?"

Clerk 2: No.

Clerk 1: It is hilarity. Nonstop hilarity. Jenny wrote and directed it herself.

At that point I finished paying for my soda and left.

"Jenny wrote and directed it herself." Sweet mother of God.

I love me some Neil Gaiman.

I don't think I've mentioned this before, but I'm a big fan of Neil Gaiman. Neil, in case you don't know, is one of the best writers of supernatural fiction working today. He made his mark writing the 90s-era Vertigo comic THE SANDMAN and is also the author of a number of most excellent novels (and big sellers) like AMERICAN GODS and ANANSI BOYS. If you want to know more about Neil, check out his web site and pick up, oh, just about anything he's written.

I'm mentioning him today because lately I've been reading old trade paperbacks of THE SANDMAN and am really loving it. It's creepy, twisted stuff. There's no way I could accurately describe the plot, but if you enjoy graphic novels - and even if you don't - I think you'd like it.

In one of those weird-coincidence type of things, I happened to finish watching Beowulf (the semi-animated film with Ray Winstone in the title role) this morning. (I watch DVDs on my laptop while walking on my treadmill at the crack of 5:45 a.m.) I got to the end, started watching the credits, and who was listed as the co-writer and co-producer? Yep. Neil Gaiman. No wonder I enjoyed it so much.

There's actually a remote chance that Neil and I may have something in common sometime down the road. His agent, Merrilee Heifetz, is currently reading my ACOUSTIC KITTY manuscript. I don't have a literary agent but very much would like to have one so I can have a shot at getting KITTY carried in bookstores everywhere. Keep your fingers crossed; Merrilee is, by all accounts, a fantastic agent, and I'd be very lucky to work with her. She also represents the bestselling author (and St. Louis resident) Laurell K. Hamilton, another crazy-good writer. Who knows if Merrilee will sign me, but heck, I'm honored to have her even consider the notion.

The moral of the story: read a lot, and when you do, find some time for Neil Gaiman stuff. And Laurell K. Hamilton, while you're at it. Oh, and keep your fingers crossed.

The downside to knowing Bob The Excellent.

First of all, before I forget, today is Fringe Day, so if you haven't yet, go check out the latest column. I actually think it's pretty good. I liked it, anyway.

Anyway, that's not the point of this post. The point of this post is to share with you a funny e-mail I got today from my friend Raymee. It read thusly:

i'm considering having a party at my house. the theme of this party will be MEET BOB. here is why.

every week, without fail, a friend will read your column and then write to me (politely including the link) and asking me things about you. is he really funny in person? (to which i reply "no he is an enormous ape" which does not answer the question at all but communicates my opinion of you nonetheless). what was it like to work with bob everyday? (to which i reply "it was like having the life sucked out of me by vampires at the bottom of the sea...but, this one time, in vegas...") is he really tall? (to which i reply "he is an enormous ape).

hope you're happy.

Yeah, all the rotten grammar and lower-case letters were in the original e-mail. I think Raymee does that because she knows it gets on my nerves. We have a special relationship like that.

I do think it's really funny when people act like I'm some kind of celebrity or extra-cool person. I'm convinced that anyone who does will be crushingly disappointed to meet me, as in person I can, at times, exude the personality and charm of a stunned halibut.

Here's how I responded to Raymee:

If you do have this party, I will attend, upon certain conditions:

1. I am carried in and out on one of those thrones like the old Egyptians used, which required four people to lift and move.

2. My throne shall be carried by strippers, all of whom will respond to the name Debbie.

3. The strippers shall be covered in butter and nothing else.

4. A lavish feast of nachos, pizza and cheeseburgers will be prepared for me, by strippers covered in butter and nothing else.

5. All will address me as "Your Most Excellently Good Looking Genius."

6. All must bring copies of "Acoustic Kitty" for me to sign. I shall, however, sign none of them.

Please advise.

She said she's thinking about it. I don't think she's telling the truth, though.

And for the record, I was joking about the butter.

Reviews!

So check this out...ACOUSTIC KITTY is getting reader reviews over on Amazon. I am proud to report that thus far KITTY is average a perfect five out of five stars on reviews. Yep, all three of the people who reviewed my book gave it five stars.

I actually am excited about this. Yeah, it's only three people, but for three folks to buy the book, read it, go to the trouble of writing a review, and then give it a perfect score...well, I think that's pretty cool. Baby steps, folks, baby steps.

Here's what the good people wrote:

Entertaining, March 24, 2008
By T. Raymond
I haven't laughed from a book in a very long time. Could not put the book down! Worth your time!

Very entertaining, June 10, 2008
By J. Heick
I enjoy Bob Rybarczyk's weekly newspaper column so I decided to give his book a try. Now at first it was a slow buildup but by page 100, I was laughing out loud. I thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the book! I enjoyed his characters, from nerds who only know work, the single mom working because of the good pay, the military vet who lives to shoot something, and the team leader who is all show. Here you find that nothing and no one is what they seem. It's great fun to learn the different layers of the characters, their interactions with each other, and the poor cats... Hello Mr. President!

Faithful column reader turned book fan, May 20, 2008
By C. Behr (Jefferson City, MO)
I've been reading Bob's column for years, so I was excited to read this book. I was thoroughly entertained, even though I typically read books written about women or from the female perspective. The story is humorous and original, with interesting characters.

See? That's not too shabby. I don't even know any of these people. (If I did I can only assume they would have given me horrible scores.)

In order to put these remarkable reviews into perspective, I compared my perfect 5.0 score to that of other allegedly good novels. Here are the average reader scores of a few other books you may have heard of:

• HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS, JK Rowling: 4.5 stars
• WHEN YOU ARE ENGULFED IN FLAMES, David Sedaris, 4.0 stars (#4 seller on Amazon today)
• THE DA VINCI CODE, Dan Brown, 3.5 stars
• IT, Stephen King, 4.5 stars
• THE FIRM, John Grisham, 4.5 stars

So there you have it. ACOUSTIC KITTY is better than those other not-quite-as-good novels.

Really, there's no excuse for you to not own a copy. I'm sure of this.

Sounds like I was right.

In this week's Fringe, I wrote about funny t-shirts and wondered if anyone actually wears them in public, despite the fact that retailers seem to keep selling them. My guess is that people only wear them at home, when nobody else can see. Sounds like I might be right. Check out this e-mail from a guy named John:

I'm totally with you on this, but even more so, I capitalize on it. I have two online websites selling funny shirts of my design. Mostly they are "reworkings" of other funny shirts I've seen, but some of them are 100% original designs. Some are just funny or popular quotes from movies and such. One of my sites is geared directly toward adults, the other is a more kid based store with funny shirts for babies and toddlers.Personally, I don't wear ANY of my shirts. I can never think of an occasion to wear a shirt that says "REAL MEN CHANGE DIAPERS", but I'll sell you one. The kid's shop is my big seller though. People are unreasonable when buying things for kids. They'll easily drop their cash in my mailbox for a witty shirt that their kid will fit into for exactly one month. It's ridiculous, but who am I to turn down their money. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that not even the people selling the shirts think that they're quality stuff. I mean, sure I'll feel proud of a particularly clever design or witty phrase, but I would never wear it.

And thus is my awesomeness once again entirely confirmed.

That figures.

So today's Suburban Fringe is all about how we don't get a spring any more in the Midwest; we just have winter and summer. I spend a great deal of time in the column complaining that we only had a few really nice days before the blistering summer heat settled in.

I went outside just now and lo and behold, it's gorgeous. Sunny, clear and about 75, I'd guess. In other words, the exact type of day I was saying doesn't really exist around here anymore.

Figures.

Sometimes I think the weather is proof that God exists and that he is having a lot of chuckles at our expense.

This man would hate my column.

I spotted this story on STLtoday this morning. Considering the three words I use in almost every column are "like," "actually," and "awesome," I have a feeling that even a few paragraphs of any one of the Fringe columns would send him into a murderous rage.

I could probably give up "like," and maybe even "actually," but if you take my "awesome" away from me, I'll become a shell of a man.

Man vs. Hamster

If you haven't checked out yesterday's Fringe, you really should. (Click here to go read it.) I wrote about the hamster that lived in my office for a couple weeks, and I compared the hamster to my only previous office mate, my friend Dean. The folks at STLtoday thought it would be fun to run a poll letting people decide whether they'd rather have Dean or the hamster as an office buddy.

Thus far, the hamster is slaughtering Dean in the voting, but it's early. I feel a little bad for Dean, because I found the single most unflattering photo of him in my files and sent that one in. I envision many more votes today, because the column hit #3 on the most e-mailed list, and that's likely to drive more traffic to the column today.

Forget Obama vs. Clinton. This is the most interesting race of the week. It is for me, anyway.

It wasn't me.

I swear, I did not write this story. But, based on the headline, you'd think I had.

Kinda interesting, actually.

I got Farked.

My column this week got Farked. Fear not, being Farked is actually a good thing.

Fark.com is a web site that aggregates all sorts of weird or interesting or funny news articles from around the web. Now, I would hardly categorize "Suburban Fringe" as news, but since it does appear on a news site, I guess it qualified. Someone - no idea who, because I have no idea how articles are selected for inclusion on Fark - chose to include a link to this week's column about Bluetooth earpieces and the people who abuse them.

But see, that's only half the story. The cool part is that the column topic sparked a huge conversation among the Farkers. Farkers are the people who read Fark every day and discuss the news stories aggregated there. Apparently, a lot of Farkers are just as sick of "Bluetools" as I am. (In some cases, hilariously so.) Other Farkers were just as adamant about their right to wear their earpieces wherever they go, whenever they want. The end result was a 600-post-long conversation. At times it devolved into an argument, but most of the posts (the ones I read, anyway) were at least civil, and most were clever.

The best part, as far as I'm concerned, was that the online conversation offered folks who have never heard of the Fringe to read it, hate it, and then tell the world about how much they hate it. That's right, it was a gold mine of my beloved hate mail.

Here's a few of my favorite insults:

There are a few editorial writers in the world who can carry off an article like this without sounding like banal, cliche, less interesting and much paler copies of Andy Rooney. I'm sorry to say that Bob Rybarczyk is not one of them.

Did we really need an article to tell us something so obvious?

Oh, the humanity, people don't things that I don't do! They must be stopped!

That sure is one insecure, cranky old columnist. Times change, gramps. We don't wear onions on our belts, either.It seems the d*****baggery is in the source, not the subject.

The writer is the dumba** tool here. I'll never wear a bluetooth, but I don't give a fark about how he thinks people are supposed to be walking through a grocery aisle. Maybe if the writer wasn't such a pansy trying to look at everybody else around him like a creepy a** lame wad, he'd enjoy his life a little more. And then he writes a column about it? What a whiner.

Welcome to the 21st century. you'll get over it.

Oh no! Someone I don't even know is wearing something that for no reason at all annoys me, and they have just passed into my field of vision. Obviously I have no choice but to stare at them, and think about it for hours and hours until it eats away at me making me a bitter old shell of a human being! If only I could just turn my head slightly and look away at something... at anything else! Oh the Humanity!!!

I realize this guy getting paid to write this crap shouldn't annoy me, but it does.

Ahh a Bob Rybarczyk blog post made fark. We here in St. Louis we are not sure why this hairless ape with an internet connection still has a job. The amount of suck and smug jacka** is about equal in all of his 'articles.' He really takes the idea that journalists are nothing more then glorified bloggers to a whole new level. His posts are only funny to those who thought Everybody Loves Raymond was good TV.

Attention St. Louis Today writer - this article is 3-4 years behind the times!

That tool that wrote the article is the oldest, smelliest fart of all.

It is not impolite to display a tool that others do not happen to have a use for. It *is* impolite to treat the world as your personal space and get annoyed at others for intruding on it. Another much-ado-about-nothing spacefiller column.

Ignore the column writer. He obviously has a brain tumor from using his cell phone without a bluetooth headset.

Jeebus, who farking cares? I use a bluetooth for driving only but the author sounds more like a whiny d*****bag than the woman who was minding her own business.

Biting social commentary is even better 2 years after everybody else made it.

"Bob Rybarczyk": say that three times real fast, without stuttering.

Dear Mr Rybarczyk: REAL men don't say "Thingies"

This guy gets the award for the most sand in a columnist's vagina. Headsets are annoying but this guy needs therapy for his issues with flashing blue lights.

Bob's rather the doosh, isn't he? Makes me just want to run right out and get his upcoming book. *pfffttt*

whatever dude, i think something should stand up and tell you to stfu. you live in st.louis, nobody cares what you have to say. the only douches are those still using wired headsets.

I'm sure there were more insults in there, but geez, it takes forever to read 600+ comments, and I didn't have time or energy to read them all. And of course a few people mentioned that they thought the column was funny, but eh, I enjoy those by myself and don't really need to repeat them here. But I do appreciate knowing that at least a few folks enjoyed the column.

I also dug that a few of the commenters were appreciative of the Iron Shiek reference I snuck into the column this week. Made it all worth it.

I've now been Farked twice. Here's hoping it happens a third time someday.

And, hey, I liked "Everybody Loves Raymond." Sure, it was a little dorky, but it was funny.

Here's a link to the entire Fark-versation, if you have a lot of time to kill.

I'm sorry - did you say "butt douche?"

The e-mail of the week last week was, well, it was one of a kind. If you recall, last week I wrote about this detox diet Colette and I did. (The column, by the way, has done surprisingly well, staying in the top three most e-mailed stories on STLtoday.com into the weekend.) Anyway, so one of the responses was from a woman named Cindy, who is serious when it comes to detoxing.

Your article on detoxing was VERY funny, highly appreciated by me since I detox people for a living. Yes, my business is colonics or colon hydrotherapy...what a friend of mine describes as a butt douche. So, I am offering you and your wife complimentary colonics - even a series so that you can really feel the difference! You WILL feel better, more energized, and...cleaner! Colonics are a much easier way to cleanse than the diet you tried! I, for one, don't do cleansing diets - they are too hard. So, if you are interested, and no, it doesn'thurt...it's more than an enema, far less than a colonoscopy.

You want to know how hard up I am for column topics sometimes? I actually considered this offer for a day or two. Really. I was almost willing to let this person douche my butt just so I'd have something to write about.

Alas, I realized that there was really no way I could write about that experience and have it published on STLtoday.com. They give me a decent amount of latitude, but not that much. At least, I hope they don't, because I really don't want that excuse taken away from me.

Ugh.

Good lord.

Kansas won the NCAA basketball tournament. Wonderful. Maybe now the Bears will win the Super Bowl, the Cubs will win the World Series, and the sun will crash into my backyard. That would make the year complete.

If you ask me, any shirts or hats marked "2008 NCAA Champs" should say somewhere on them "Mostly 'Cause Memphis Couldn't Shoot Free Throws."

One more free throw, Memphis. One more freakin' free throw. Or just the foresight to foul the KU shooter before he could launch a three. Talk about giving it away. It was like watching Bucker give the World Series to those awful Mets in '86.

Ah well. Life goes on. Well, unless that thing about the sun happens.

Weird day, from a bunny-lovin' standpoint.

Last week I wrote about the week we spent caring for my daughter's class bunny. (If you haven't read it, check it out here.) I didn't get a lot of mail about it. In fact, I think I only got two or three e-mails, all of which arrived the day that particular Fringe was published.

So it was more than a little weird when I got three e-mails today from three different people, all criticizing my care of the bunny. Two of them also criticized the teacher's care of the bunny, which I thought was odd, since I barely mentioned my daughter's teacher in the column.

My guess is that some bunny lovers all got together and decided to bury me under an avalanche of good intentions and bunny-raisin' tips. Which, naturally, is all about a week and a half too late, as I took the bunny back to school and don't expect to have any more bunnies in my house any time soon.

Here's a sampling of what they said:

I was quite disturbed by your article "I don't like the way that bunny is looking at me." You should learn more about what you write about. Pepe was obviously not spayed or neutered or properly handled, otherwise the poor thing would not "stink" or be so intimidated. I really discourage teachers from having bunnies, or any animal for that matter, in the classroom unless it is the teacher's own pet.

and

Clearly, the manner in which your daughter’s classroom bunny is being kept at school is completely wrong. That poor bunny is not experiencing an appropriate quality of life. Stop picking on defenseless animals and pick on someone your own size.

and

As a bunny owner, I'm concerned about a number of statements in your column. To be fair to you, it does not seem that the teacher prepared your family very well for taking care of Pepe. It seems that the only thing the teacher told you was to make sure Pepe had some exercise every day. Given that he was in what sounds like a small cage, I'm glad you were responsible and let him run around.

You get the idea. I'm glad there are people in this world who care about bunnies. I'm not one of them. Sorry.

The glamorous life.

I tell you what, by the time I got the kids to bed at 9:00 tonight, all I wanted to do was curl up in bed and watch the NCAA Tournament. I told myself I could take the night off from working on my second novel, simply because I'd already worked enough today.

But then I remembered that I hadn't worked on the novel last night, either. And if I didn't force myself to write on a consistent basis, the second novel would never get done.

So, I wrote for 45 minutes tonight and plowed through another page. It's almost 10:00 now and I'm finally going to relax for the first time today.

Just something to consider the next time you think you might wanna write a novel. And I don't even have a guarantee that this work will ever see the inside of a book store.

Enough whining. I'm going to watch Louisville and Tennesse now, even though I know nothing about either team and have barely watched the Tournament at all this year...

A good cause.

I don't often take time out to promote charity stuff, because, well, I'm selfish and lazy. But today I'll attempt to make up for 0.00001% of my selfish laziness by mentioning an event coming up this weekend that will benefit the families of those who were lost during the February Kirkwood shooting. (Those of you reading this in St. Louis know what I'm talking about. Everyone else can read about it here.)

The benefit is happening at the Corner Pub & Grill, one of the few interesting/cool restaurants in Manchester. The owner/operator of the place, Brant Baldanza, sent me a note about the benefit last week, and since this tragedy struck so close to home, I want to try to do my part, however small it may be. Here's the info about the event:

On Sunday, March 30, from open to close, The Corner Pub and Grill will donate 10% of its total sales to Backstoppers. All proceeds will benefit Backstoppers for those police officers' families affected by the Feb 7 Kirkwood City Council tragedy.

Around 8:00 p.m., Blues alumni and Kirkwood officials will visit The Corner Pub and Grill to accept any personal or corporate donation to Backstoppers.

Please stop by on March 30 for a bite to eat, an ice cold Budweiser, and to make a personal or corporate donation. Your charitable patronage is greatly appreciated.

Just so you know, the Corner Pub is located at the corner of Big Bend and Doughterty Ferry, and the number is (636) 225-1300. They tell me they've already raised $10,000 and would like to double that on Sunday. So if you can, head out and support a good cause. And order the wings. They rock.