Game On

So. Yesterday was another defeat. Didn't accomplish a single thing that I was meant to do, including buying pants. My hangover actually got worse as the day went on. How does that happen? I don't know, but I do know that I'm still not fit. And I have to work. Sweet Hitler's ghost! Anyhoo, expect another list of 150 things that make me want to barf sharpish -- probably Tuesday, after I complete my move from the horrible UES to the tolerable Cobble Heights, Brooklyn. Today, though, I feel as if I ought to introduce the greatest game ever: Who Are the Three Worst People to Be Stuck on an Elevator With? Here are the simple rules (abridged version -- I have a fucking steamin' headache and can't sweat the details just now)...

1. Consider yourself absolutely stuck on that elevator -- there's no escaping through an emergency hatch or having Scotty beam you out of there or something. And you're gonna be jammed up on that lift for a long time. Several hours, minimum.

2. You have to choose THREE PEOPLE to be stuck with -- any three LIVING PEOPLE, though. Midgets don't count as only half a person; a ventriloquist's dummy or a sock puppet (think Lamb Chop) doesn't count at all (so you could have three ventriloquists, plus their dummies); huge disgusting fat guys count as only one guy (as convincing an argument as it might be, Louie Anderson will not count as two dudes); no cartoon characters, etc. THREE LIVING HUMANS!

3. You don't have any diversions like a video iPod or even a cellphone. Your companions are likewise curiously free of any such devices. However, if a person that you're stuck with is known for playing a musical instrument (think of the Silversun Pickups keyboard player) or talking into a microphone (think Dick Vitale), etc., then they've got that gear. You have been warned.

4. Everyone is sober and dressed in their normal kits. This does mean, though, that if we're talking about a swimmer, say Greg Louganis, he's wearing a Speedo. Fucking horror show!

Okay, that's all I've got for rules (for now).

So. Here are two quick examples, trios that would really suck to be trapped on an elevator with. You'd probably go feral as a result.

1. Joanna Newsom (with her harp), Newsom's father (thereby preventing any chance of scoring a gam job from Joanna), and Norm! Clarke, the eyepatch-wearing gossip columnist for the Las Vegas Review-Journal (to see the patch, click here.

2. Joan Rivers, her daughter, and Jim "Mad Money" Cramer.

Let the games begin.