• It was on this date in 1868 that Andrew Johnson was acquitted of impeachment by a single vote. Here is a short but thorough account of how it went down.
• Today on Kerri-Lee’s blog, I ask, “What would your last meal be if you were condemned to die?” There is also a link to the top 10 last meals of all time, which is recommended reading.
• Hockey is hot right now. I mean, sorry NBA, Chris Paul is awesome, but your playoffs are boring, with the refs handing wins to the home team every single game (Home teams are 20-1 in the 2nd round of these playoffs. Fishy? Something tells me Donaghy was a fall guy for a larger problem.)
  Crosby is exciting to watch, even for a casual fan like myself. And the hits are spectacular. Most importantly, hockey has Don Cherry, the best dresser in sports history. And even better, the guy is completely out of his mind. A few nights ago, he wore a pink suit that almost blew out my retinas, then called Detroit fans “rednecks”. I love this guy.
• The following sentence from bats*** crazy Steven Wells column in this week’s PW: Acting as Warden Nutter’s Lord Chamberlain and dressed like Bill Sykes out of Oliver! (complete with snazzy neckerchief and battered top hat), I’ll rule the fop-infested Philly arts scene with a rod of iron (literally) in the company of my ever faithful, cigar-smoking, quizzo-organizing, Winston Churchill-faced talking mutant English bulldog Johnny S*** Times. (Much as I do now, only more so.) I really have no idea how to respond to that. None.

Perfect morning to eat pancakes and drink OJ. Thinking about hitting up Sabrina’s. Be back this afternoon with scores. In the meantime, a couple of things to keep in mind for the weekend. First off, good news, rhubarb fans. Tommorrow is supposed to be 73 and sunny, and Sunday is more of the same. Which means that this is the perfect weekend for a festival. If you’re not up for a roadtrip, there are a couple of fun things going down in Philly. First up, the Italian Market Festival. Always a blast, and this year they’ve added the Inaugural John Marzano Halfball Tournament. (I love this city.) Then, in case you’re in the mood for something even weirder than seeing statues of saints marched down the street, we’ve got the annual Kensington Kinetic Sculpture Derby. Pics from last years look ridiculous, and I expect this year you’ll see more of the same. GOnna be a great weekend. Get outdoors and have fun.

A few days ago, Kerri-Lee (above, totally jacking my ruffled tuxedo top style) posted a few choice stupid quotes said by celebs over the years (I had forgotten about that Mariah Carey one. Honestly, the stupidest thing a human being has ever uttered. Ever. UPDATE: Woops. She never said it. I’m sorry Ms. Carey.) But today I looked around and found a few quotes I thought were actually pretty intelligent. And the one quote that I think is half-brilliant, half stupid comes from Shaquille O’Neal: “My game is like the Pythagorean Theorem. Nobody can figure it out.”

Here was a short blurb left in what was essentially an I Love You I Hate You section of a South Carolina newspaper:
This is to the trivia guy at Rockaways: I know people usually write in to bitch and moan, but my sorority sisters and I just wanted to tell you that your trivia night on Wednesdays is the highlight of our week! All we talk about during our late-night slumber parties and pillow fights is your sexy red beard and that mysterious bulge in your shorts. Oh, and your trivia questions of course … tee hee … I wonder if we could book you for a private trivia session? We don’t have much money but I’m sure we could work something out. We’ll see you for trivia this Wednesday at 9 p.m.!. P.S. — Would turning in our panties count as a right answer? We’ll try and find out!

In case anyone is curious: Yes, turning in your panties does count as a right answer.

Get your baking shoes on, folks! We’re a mere three days away from the largest and oldest Rhubarb Festival in the United States, and as you know, I was selected to be a celebrity judge (Apparently Gervase and Wang Newton had previous engagements). Needless to say, I am extremely excited. I hope I get an explosion of rhubarb in my mouth! If you’d like to enter a pie in the 25th annual Kitchen Kettle Village Rhubarb Pie Bake-Off (or KKVRPBO, for short), just go here and fill out the form. Something tells me, this is going to be the greatest bake-off ever!

RELATED: News story about the Rhubarb Festival…in Pittsburgh paper. Helllllllllooooo, Philadelphia media. Might wanna wake up and smell the rhubarb.
RELATED: I link yet again to my near upset in the 23rd annual Rhuarb Pie Bake-off.
RELATED: Pretty hilarious story I wrote about the 22nd Annual Bake off, which is where I first stumbled onto this little gem of a festival. Upon further review, I have to say that this is one of the funniest things I have ever written.

PGW cut off my gas on Friday which was a real @$$&@^& move because since they did right before the weekend I had to wait four days to get it turned back on. After three and a half days without a hot shower I desperately needed one. Man Law states that you can’t call a dude and ask to use his shower, and Ginger was working, so I called Smackdown and used her shower. And no, nothing ribald occurred.* Anyways, me and Smackdown and Gabe and the rest of the AmGlads Gang headed over to D-macs to watch Gladiators (The Eliminator still sucks.)

I would have gone home after that but Gabe said he was gonna grab another drink. So we met up with some friends of his from school at a bar that shall remain nameless b/c of what I’m about to tell you and the next thing you know I’m talking to this really hot blonde at the bar who gave me a look but then it turned out that she was 19 (seriously, she did not look 19. Ask Gabe. Or the bartender.) so after I talked to her for a little while (I didn’t want to be rude) I left and met up with Gabe and his friends again at Misconduct Tavern. Well, they closed at 2 (it’s the law) but Gabe was a member of Pen and Pencil so we headed there. I hadn’t been to the P & P in like 5 years, since I dated this girl that was a hard partier but also loved Jesus and tried to convert me over dinner and later ended up making out with one of my Jewish friends because he said he loved Jesus**. Next thing you know it is 4:45 a.m. and I am walking through the empty streets of Philadelphia back to my place. Then I had to wake up at 9:15 because the damn guy from PGW was here to turn my gas back on. God, I hate PGW! Um, so what was my point? Oh yeah, quizzo will probably suck tonight, because I am exhausted. But you should still go.

*though not b/c of a lack of effort on my part.
**True story