I’m mostly certain that the thing jutting out of the dead kangaroo’s nether regions is its tail. Mostly.
Sometimes my web-mistress takes random photos and asks me to supply a caption, a simple and welcome request. However, I admit to being puzzled by this one.
This bear looks kinda fake. The bees look kind of fake. I look kinda fake. Consequently, many people were surprised to learn that the bear was in fact real, and not exactly a pet. Among those people, was me.
Here we have a candid After the Catch photo circa 2007, capturing the essence of the Professional Host.
There we were on the venerable Sesame Street. Of the events that would unfold, I’m not saying I’m proud. I’m just saying they happened
It’s a funny thing, figuring out what to do next. And what not do to.
Here we have an interesting study in collaboration in the field, involving an openly skeptical producer, an exhausted director and … me, doing my best to persuade.
Normally, when I do voiceovers, I sit for a few hours and read under the cloak of invisibility — sipping my beverage, picking my nose, and scratching what itches. Those days are over.
If we accept the premise that observation changes human behavior and alters a person’s identity, I think we can agree that — based on this photo — I have absolutely no idea who I am anymore.
A few weeks ago, I was officially informed that Dirty Jobs had entered into a new phase. One I like to call, “permanent hiatus.” Or in the more popular industry vernacular, canceled.