Being Green and Easy

Who knew entomology could be so hot? Check out Green Porno, a collection of eight short films depicting the sex lives of various insects.

All are written and narrated by Isabella Rossellini, who also stars as the lead bug in each one. And she makes a very fetching earthworm.

I've Found Nerdvana - xkcd

Finally. A recipe that makes sense.

It's All Geek to Me

Oh we'll have fun fun fun until daddy takes the Prius awaaaay. Is this not the coolest geekmobile everrrr? I mean, who wouldn't love a topless Prius?

And speaking of geekiness, my pal Martha, co-host of A Way With Words - the public radio show where language lovers love to linger - sent me a link to Lifehacker. (Oh my, that alliteration took on a life of its own.)

Talk about a geek paradise. That site is almost as much fun as spending six hours at the Apple Store.

The Love That Dare Not Use its Name

Apparently, residents of the Greek island of Lesbos are sick and tired of gay women calling themselves "lesbians." So they've taken the issue to court.

Come on.

We've used the L Word to describe our Subaru-driving, flannel-wearing, cat-loving sisters for like a zillion years, and suddenly now in 2008 the islanders want their name back?

Take it up with Sappho, people.

Spam - The 11th Plague

I've been playing with different social networking sites and applications lately, trying them out, seeing how they work, and having fun splashing around in my geekiness.

And then I stumbled on Reunion.com. (No link for them; don't wanna send any eyeballs their way.)

In a nutshell, or anywhere else for that matter, they suck.

When I signed up for what appeared to be just another innocuous way to connect with friends online, that chazzerai-ridden site hijacked my entire gmail contact list and spammed the hell out of them.

And to be kicked in the head by the by-product of a beast with non-cloven hooves on Pesach? Well, it's just not kosher.

Read what the LA Times has to say about these scummy sheisters.

The Goyfiltefish Incident

I introduced gefilte fish to some non-Jewish pals today.

Doubt it'll become a late-night craving for any of them.

Happy Pesach!

Let My People Know

I just found a site debunking Jewish urban legends called, cleverly enough, Jewish Legends.

Did you know that "Mama" Cass Elliot was born Ellen Naomi Cohen in Scarsdale, NY?

And she died from a heart attack, not from choking on a ham sandwich on Yom Kippur. Um, ham? On Yom Kippur? Helloooo??? She was a Heeb, already!

I also learned that, although she's claimed it for years, my mother does not actually know everything.

Typo Lypo

I am not worthy.

The Typo Eradication Advancement League, or TEAL, is on a serious mission to rid the U.S. of typos one city at a time. Talk about a way fun road trip (for some of us, anyhow).

And I thought I was in the top percentile of word nerdiness.

Thanks to Grant Barrett, co-host of public radio's A Way With Words, for his recent post about this group on the show's discussion forum.

Kosher or Keebler? You Decide.

This is Rabbi Yaakov Y. Horowitz, who heads the 17 rabbinical inspectors who oversee production at Manischewitz, a kosher food company.

He's the guy who makes sure our matzo is truly kosher for Passover.

But I think he leads a double life. Doesn't he resemble a Keebler elf?

Sound, Off!

Here's what I hate: websites that assault you with music or cheesy sound effects the moment their home page loads. And some sites don't even let you turn off their freakin' bird calls or, even worse, nasty smooth jazz.

For example, I love the Estancia Hotel , but their home page plays the same flamenco guitar riff over and over.

And, what's worse, You. Can't. Make. It. Stop.

There's a little sound icon in the top right corner, but if you click on it, the music stops for about 10 seconds and then starts up again.

And, under normal circumstances, I like flamenco music. Just not the same six notes in a continuous loop. I would think that if you're trying to sell very expensive hotel rooms and spa treatments, pissing off your online audience isn't a really good idea.

The Estancia site is supposed to be all about relaxation, but the only thing I feel after clicking through a page or two is the urge to hunt down Ottmar Liebert.

Tiara del Fuego

Okay, so the G-Shot doc found my blog and returned fire with a post about my reference to his procedure (scroll down to April 5th entry).

And he called me a JAP!

Yep, I'm a Heeb and an American, and I can be a royal pain in the arse sometimes, but a princess? Oy, that I'm not.

PS. Comedian Margaret Cho actually got the G-Shot. Read about it here.

G-Spot GPS

G-spot amplification is the latest trend in female sexual enhancement. Men get a little blue pill; we get large hypodermic needles.

The G-Shot works like this: first you're injected with an anesthetic. Then you're injected with human engineered collagen. And then supposedly your G-spot plumps up like a Ballpark Frank on a hot grill to about the size of a quarter. Although, with the current recession it may feel more like a dime.

And, if you believe the hype, your elusive G-spot, something your frustrated partner equated with a tiny town in rural Ohio, will be as easy to find as the Statue of Liberty.

Personally, I'd rather date someone with a good sense of direction.

Plagued With Guilt

The Ten Plagues of Egypt are an integral part of the story of Passover.

And no one makes them more fun to learn about than The Source for Everything Jewish.

You'll be amused for hours whether you prefer chocolate boils, locust finger puppets or bowling for dead cattle.

Yep, we Heebs sure know how to party.

And Nosh Some Hamentaschen

Purim falls on March 20th or 21st at sundown. (Two Jews, three opinions. Can't we ever agree on anything?)

For the uninitiated, Purim is another one of those Jewish holidays that's summed up like this:

They tried to kill us. We won. Let's eat.

And during Purim we eat hamentaschen (literally, Haman's pockets). Around 350 BCE, an evil advisor to King Ahasuerus of Persia, named Haman, hatched a plan to kill all the Jews. I hate to give away the ending, but the Jews survived and Haman was hanged.

The triangular-shaped cookies represent his three-cornered hat. I don't really get the pocket-hat relationship, but I do believe that the reason prune is the traditional hamentaschen flavor is to give us an excuse to kvetch about our irritable bowel syndrome.

Personally, I prefer apricot.

Pope Prius the First

The Vatican has updated the seven deadly sins to include abusing the environment.

So what does this mean for future Palm Sunday observances? Replacing thousands of freshly-cut palm fronds with replicas made from recycled plastic grocery bags?

And about those Christmas trees. . .

Dennis the Menace

That's right, Dennis Rodman is my homie. Two friends and I had a close encounter with him while we were having drinks in West Hollyweird last weekend.

When he plopped himself down next to me it was clear he was higher than the Wright brothers on a windy day. And our scintillating conversation? If only Dr. Seuss had been available to translate.

But the strangest part of the evening was when he groped my bazoom and then threw my friend Lauri onto his lap. Yep, that Dennis Rodman sure knows how to show a girl a good time.

Funnier Than a Ball of Yarn in a Water Cooler

According to The Onion, America's Finest News Source, there's a serious shortage of idioms in this country.

And that's scarier than a rabbi running a bacon-eating contest.

Shake Your Groove Thing

We homos get blamed for everything. Now an ultra-right wing member of the Israeli parliament is blaming recent earthquakes on Israel's tolerant attitude towards homosexuality.

In an article in Britain's Telegraph, Shlomo Benizri of the ultra-Orthodox Jewish Shas party said this:

"Why do earthquakes happen? One of the reasons is the things to which the Knesset gives legitimacy, to sodomy," Benizri said during a parliamentary debate on earthquake preparedness.

"God says you shake your genitals where you are not supposed to and I will shake my world in order to wake you up," he added.

If we actually were capable of such phenomena I think we'd do something much more universally appealing, like rid the world of back hair.

Less Cringing, Fewer Dunderheads

So this morning I'm in the grocery store ready to check out, and something odd catches my eye. It's a sign that reads "Express Lane - 15 Items or Fewer."

Yes, Fewer! Not "15 Items or Less."

It appears that someone in the grocery industry finally took a damn grammar class.

Once You Go Mac. . .

If you're a Mac addict like me then you'll be rushing to the theater to see the new movie MacHeads, a documentary about the Macintosh Nation.

But I'm not wild about the title. Maybe they should've called it "Gone With the Windows."