All the time I head people from other places tell me how expensive LA is, and they're right. But you know what's even more expensive? Boredom.

You don't hear of any rational SoCal metropolitans spending their entire life savings on motor sports or breathing themselves into an early grave at a NASCAR event. Those crazy Midwesterners just don't have any good concerts to go to (The Blue Collar Comedy Tour doesn't count, attendance at such an event actually scores negative points).

But now there is hope. A blog dedicated to cool free things to do in the LA area!

How about a free Yoga class every morning? Covered.

Ever wanted to try archery? How about FREE archery?! Even better!

You should get on a bike. How about a FREE bike ride exploring LA's sexually inspired architecture? (Who knew?)

Just when you thought your wallet was nothing but dust and your social life was down the drain, bloggers come to the rescue.

The Iditarod. A dogsled race through the wilds of Alaska, wrought with history, danger, and tradition. Plus, it has cute puppies. Who doesn't love puppies?

The Idiotarod. A race from Brooklyn to Manhattan with a bunch of crazy drunk people in flamboyant costumes attached to shopping carts and dragging the carts for the entire race. Who doesn't love crazy drunk people?

Why do I always miss the cool stuff? Why? WHY?! Get a load of some of these FAQs....

*Can we get drunk?*

It makes the pain go away.

*Are there rules?*

Yes, quite a few of them. For starters, four people must be attached to and running in front of the cart at all times. There will be referees along the route to disqualify cheaters. We'll release a more detailed list of rules a week before the event.

*Does my team need its own shopping cart?*

Yes.

*Where do we get a cart?*

Be resourceful.

*Are you suggesting we steal it?*

We didn't say that.

When Yaeger told me about a reggae singing/rapping Chasid who has been performing all over the country (but never on Shabbat), all I could think was "Poor Occulator, the broccoli margaritas must be causing horrible hallucinatory flashbacks." But I was wrong.
Not only was I wrong, but his name is Matisyahu and Carson 'I-have-no-business-being-famous-and-yes-Tara-is-a-whore' Daly called him one of the better acts touring today, he just signed to an indie label, and has been on numerous late night talk shows. I even have a link to a video clip.

Chabbad is taking over! Chabbad is taking over! Hide your leavened bread!

This was my first year and I had a great time. My weekend was G Rated compared to Kitty's, but there's always next year.

This is my top 10:
1) The Famous Jews and Hairdos word search in Fran Magazine during the playoffs. That last Jew still plagues me. We quizzed every member of the tribe and no one knew. Not even the Westside Moyles knew.
Brian is convinced that it was Gene Simmons, but Jen isn't so sure. (I'm going with Brian on this one. If you have that issue, look for Gene)
2) Champagne and Irish whisky in the girls room.
3) Anyone want a Rice Crispy Treat? I still have leftovers.
4) Free vodka shots at Pink E's on the first night
5) The singing wait staff at Le Provencal. Later on I broke into an aria of my own and Jen was nice enough to comment that I had missed my calling. "Yes" I replied, "I could have been a waiter."
6) Flock of Goo Goo on night one.
7) The loser at the Manic Hispanic show who tried to impress me by bragging about his life plan of continuing to suck off the parental teat. The gene pool is closed to him. CLOSED!!!
8) Almost getting proposed to in the elevator by a guy I had just met. At least his father approved.
9) My brand new "Hot Karl" shirt. I will treasure it always, but the Irish Brothers are still getting purple and black bowling shirts for next year.
10) All the cute guys! Where are they the rest of the year?

Dirty Rotten Posers - 94th. Next year, we'll be in the top 70!

Just when you thought it was safe to sexually harass people in the workplace, executives can now buy desktop guillotines, hypnodisks, and siege engines!

Apparently they all work dangerously well, but I would much rather keep them as a source of implied power through intimidation rather than actual use, or out of just plain morbidity. Well, maybe I would use the guillotine to cut grapes and carrots into more manageable pieces (possibly in front of an incompetent subordinate). I could also play with the ballista nervously during an annual review while popping uppers faster than a second grader going through ritalin withdrawal.

I wish I could collect them all like free prizes in Happy Meals. Only in my perfect world (sigh).

49% of the citizens of the United States of America would like to give the rest of the world an apology in the form of a website for the results of last week's election.

A few members of the international community even posted a few of their own images accepting our apology and reasuring us that there are a lot of people out there who know how hard we tried to convince the other 51% to let go of their fear and hate, and embrace a better future.

I told the friend (Katie Cook) who brought this to my attention, "We may be in the minority, but we are far more creative." Katie then reminded me that we are also cuter. How can I disagree?

I don't want to be the stereotypical liberal/leftist crybaby, but G@D Dammit, I'm sad. Sure, I'm angry. I'm angry that I don't recognize my country, that my fellow citizens endorsed a regime that continues to lie to them and allowed the torture of detainees (TORTURE!!! WTF!!!), and I'm furious that the Democratic party didn't fight tooth and nail over this election, popular vote be damned!

The fact that we take the highroad of political strategy, think through issues in an intellectual instead of reactionary manner, and care about the wellbeing of others, does not make us inconsequential. It makes us a minority. That, makes me sad.

If you're like me, and all your friends are getting married and becoming pregnant (or vise versa), then you are sick and tired of getting minute by minute updates on Junior's bowel movements and being on the receiving end of quizzical looks when you politely explain that bringing up your own little Satan just doesn't interest you.

Next time one of my friends becomes an incubator and has the nerve to release the contents within upon the world; I'll know just what to give:
1) The "They Shake Me" baby t-shirt from T-ShirtHell.com
2) Some MP3s of Black Rattle (death metal versions of nursery rhymes as sung by Greg Behrendt)
So far I can only find Itsy Bitsy Spider and Where is Thumkin?, but I'm sure someone has a bootleg somewhere.

I may be a Jew, but I'm a Jew with a sense of humor and when I found Heeb Magazine online it was as though it was made for people just like me (who knew?). I'm just glad that there are other members of the tribe who know how to take a joke and enough of a market to make it profitable (it is made by Yids after all).

While reading issue 6, I found an artice about a rabbi who hired a hit man to off his wife. I already knew the story, because one of my best friends was a member of his flock in junior high school. I e-mailed him at work with the news. This was the conversation, word for word:
Me: "Your Rabbi made it to the Gulit Issue. See 'Frozen Chosen.'"
Gary: "Cherry Hill is famous!" (Cherry Hill, NJ is his home town where the incident took place)
Me: "For amoral rabbis who hire professional killers."
Gary: "No. For (as my Dad would say) people who know how to take care of their problems."

I almost peed my pants.

The lead guitarist for 38 Special started a summer camp for rich suburbanites in Atlanta.
Where was this when I was a missunderstood tweenager and I got stuck at Camp Miscreant?