Sweetie dahling, the artistically inclined simply must download these Absoutely Fabulous fashion templates and dress Eddie and Pasty up in the most ghastly clothes imaginable. Air kiss!

So, I noticed that there has been a string of hiphop “dance off” movies lately. You know the ones — some guy or girl from the wrong side of the tracks dances their way through obstacles to fame, fortune, and the love of a good person. I started to think that the cinematic dance off was as cyclical and unchanging as the seasons, but there’s an interesting anomaly: the sixties had its beach blanket limbo battles, the seventies left us with the indelible image of John Travolta dancing up a storm in his white suit, and the eighties had Flashdance for the girls and breakdancing for the boys. See something missing? The nineties had no update to the “dance off” movie! (The only possible exception to this is “Showgirls”, which think was less a ‘dance off’ than a ‘breast augmentation battle’.) I think my generation must have been too surly and disaffected for dance movies, which upon reflection is probably for the best.

“The problem is, when God made avocados, he didn’t put serial numbers on them.” Words of wisdom from one of San Diego County’s “guac cops”, charged with stopping the escalating crime of avocado theft.

Still hungry? Thanks to this big colour guide to Asian condiments, I can finally tell my black bean sauce from my brown bean paste.

Science blunders in Science Fiction: “You’d think with the number of exploding console related injuries [on Star Trek], starship designers would add a few fuses or circuit breakers, don’t you?”

I’m a wee bit late for the year-end reviews, but I enjoyed this article on 2003′s silliest moments in magazine publishing.

Speaking of silly, apparently, yes, the single life in Manhattan is nothing like Sex and the City. (And really, isn’t that for the best?)

Jack Chick meets Cthulu. Yeah, you read that right.