Momo’s Home Page is a rather earnest and extensive website dedicated to Momotaro Hirata (Momo, for short).

Which wouldn’t normally be particularly funny. Except that Momo is a hamster. That premise, combined with the worst Engrish I’ve seen in months, makes the site an unalloyed success and a likely candidate for making the email forward rounds.

Just look at this gem of a paragraph, explaining (at least so far as I can tell) both Momo’s distaste at being touched by strangers, and his freezing response to perceived threats:

Hamster are surprised to touch on a large scale when they doesn’t become familir.

I was also surprised to see that Momo was surprised.

Now we are calm each other. He sometimes plays on my hand.

Strange to say, Momo sometimes stops.

He has no action to touch him.

Softly I push him, he sways to may finger.

We call it “Momo-domari” meanes Momo-stop.

How’s your hamster?

Read through the rest of the site, wet your pants laughing, and in six months, with the smugness of an early adopter, explain to friends just catching on that the whole thing is so half a year ago.

In yet another instance of zero-tolerance policies raging ridiculously out of control, a group of seven Colorado elementary school students were sent home from school and otherwise punished for running around the playground during recess, pretending to shoot aliens with their fingers as imaginary weapons. I’m all for gun control, but this is ridiculous.

Somewhat related: it apparently really does stop being all fun and games when someone loses (or at least damages) an eye, as a California seventh grader now faces criminal charges from inadvertently hitting another student (standing some 10 feet away) in the eye with a spitball.

It’s a damn good thing I finished elementary school in the eighties. With all the trouble I caused, in today’s harsher and more litigious environment I’d likely have been incarcerated for life somewhere around second grade.

God bless Yale university:

1. Yale College has begun matching, dollar for dollar, any financial aid funding its students lose due to a rather distasteful 1998 provision of the Higher Education Act, which blocks financial aid to students previously convicted of drug posession.

2. The Yale Law School’s online law journal has gone to town on Turner CEO Jamie Kellner who, in an interview, declared that fast-forwarding through commercials is essentially equivalent to stealing the program being watched.

Bulldog, bulldog, bow wow wow, Eli Yale…

Let’s be honest: the vast majority of the web blows. Hard. Which is why the exceptions are particularly thrilling. Witness Extrabad, a collection of web properties that range from animated series (We Are Robots, White Bread Blues) to fairly inexplicable static displays (the Lego Death Museum) and truly tasteless video games (Rest Home Fighter). For anyone with a warped sense of humor and too much free time on their hands, Extrabad is second to none.

Exhibit A: backyard monorail.

Exhibit B: backyard roller coaster.

I can’t even begin to express how jealous I am.

Good Joke

Two guys at a bar:

Guy One: Don’t you hate it when you make a Freudian slip?

Guy Two: What’s that?

Guy One: Well, just the other day, I was at the airport buying a plane ticket, and the woman behind the counter had the most beautiful breasts. I meant to ask for two tickets to Pittsburgh, but instead I said I wanted two pickets to Titsburg.

Guy Two: Oh, yeah, that has happened to me. Why just the other day at breakfast with my wife, I meant to say “Dear, could you pass me some more coffee,” but instead I said “You stupid bitch, you’ve ruined my life!!!”‘

Bad Joke

Q. Why do chicken coops have two doors?

A. Because if they had four, they’d be chicken sedans.

We interrupt your regular matzoh-based programming to suggest you revisit the very Easter-appropriate Peeps posting from two weeks back.

Cleaning my hard drive, I came across this picture of myself:

I’m not really sure where this was taken, but I would guess my father is the one behind the camera. I’m just trying to figure out what I’d have to do to get my hair to look like that all the time.

I’m not kidding.

While taking a taxi home last night, I started to examine the back of a one dollar bill I was holding. What the hell kind of artwork is that exactly? A big floating eyeball? “Annuit Coeptis”? Thank goodness for Google and the power of the internet.