This is both the first and last installment of The JLR’s Name of the Week, because I don’t think it will be topped in the foreseeable future. Of course, feel free to send me any names you think might smite this masterpiece!
Vladimir Radmanovic of the Lakers
Right now I have the most stereotypical Walgreens kind of cold. The kind where some poor shmohawk sniffles and sneezes his way into the store to buy over the counter meds and gets everyone else horribly sick in the process. I might put on a large brown overcoat, grab a wad of Kleenex and do just that.
Fitting, then, that I now feel like my very own creation: Grossman.
Will, Yours Truly, and Brent aboard the S.S. Ahoy Boy circa 199X
Jerry, CeRyubral Palsy, and Canaan speak loudly of The New Millennium
I’ve received many letters lately from curious readers, most of which beg the question “Where do you get work done now, Joseph?” First off, thanks for all of your interesting mail, I read all of it personally.
Your timing couldn’t be better, either, because I am particularly busy this week! Between personal projects and work, the mighty kitchen table you see below will essentially be my concrete fixture for the foreseeable future:
I can only hope Kirby’s wise words will help guide me through all of this!
Not much has made me hungrier in a long while than this article here. Of course, I read it on the john, so maybe it had something to do with the fact that burgers were coming out of my butt so why not put more in.
So I went to McDonald’s and picked up this bad mother:
The Mushroom & Swiss Angus Burger* or, as I shall come to know it, the “number five.” Let me tell you, this was a real mean son of a beast! It’s not exactly what you expect to return from McD’s with, both in terms of patty girth and overall bun quality.
Though it was certainly fit to be photographed, I only allowed it a brief stay on its platter before downing it in record time. The fries served as both a salty, pre-burger “how do you do,” and a hearty post-mortem epilogue. An obituary crafted from potato fibers and scalding pits of grease.
After savoring the final bites, I spent a few minutes mulling over the clerk that rang me up. At first, I thought her merriment to be a bit of a wink at me, saying something along the lines of “wise choice for a wise man.” However, after the fact, it seems like I was being dealt a bit of a mocking courtesy from the eyes of a fiend fully aware that they had just contributed to a case of Burger Madness.
For your enjoyment, I have created a very large image of my meal. Please use it on your computer.
*My friend John just informed me that it “looks like a diarrhea daiquiri”
subhumanzoids 
