Give me a backrub!

Seriously you guys, my back hurts. On the left side, just underneath my shoulder blade. Get over here and rub it.

Don’t just stand there like a gang of mouth-breathing troglodytes! Roll up your sleeves, dip your fingers and forearms in vaseline, and start rubbling my shirtless, recently shorn back!

Why is the crowd surrounding me dissipating? Is there some part of my instruction that you have failed to understand? Let me be perfectly explicit: take your calloused, thick-knuckled fingers and press them firmly into the muscle structure of my upper back in accordance with my bidding. Probe the soft tissue and await further direction from me. Do not be alarmed by the loud groans of pleasure that result from the ensuing painful, yet ecstatic release.

Well, now everybody’s gone. Looks like I’m going to have to go kill more stray dogs just to feel vivid again…

At last, it has been accomplished.

Let me grasp and ruggedly embrace each and every one of you by turn, for this is post number 1,000 on the John Larroquette Project.

The tears are flowing freely now as the magnitude of this moment finally descends upon me. It’s good to let it out! Yes, let the tears flow from my bulbous ducts like black magma from the anus of a diseased she-dragon!

Stop the polite applause! I’m not worthy of such begrudging praise! I am but a lowly mortal like yourselves, only I know more obscure historical data that I’m certain will one day come in handy!

Silence your shiftless murmurings! I will now delight over all of you through the majesty of song!

“And I……………… will always love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuu–”
*loud coughing*”

Okay, so that backfired on me. Just hang with me here! This appears to be quickly going downhill.

How about this, instead of some sort of formal ceremony that I’m sure you’ve planned where I am feted with gifts and lauded for my filthy musings, how’s about we reminisce over some favorite posts from the last 5+ years?

Remember when I reviewed Milk Duds? I was providing a thoughtful public service, as always.

Professor Tickles – Remember that one? I crossed a few lines there…

Hyper-patriotism has long been a beloved, wholly unironic tradition here at the JLP.

How about this nugget? Gentle teasing of the mentally infirm is par for the course around here!

And finally, speaking of literacy, I have written often about my love of books. Among the books I’ve reviewed for you are biographies of Hitler, Marx (Groucho), and Cosby. Incidentally, these book reviews are among my most commonly read posts, as people come across them while researching these figures. One of my greatest wishes is that some 9th grader has turned in a report claiming that Ben Franklin invented running.

Now, leave me. Let me commit seppuku in peace.

I spent the weekend at home, alone, disoriented and ashamed.

But perhaps I should explain.

Bridgette took off Saturday morning to Minnesota’s non-depressing Iron Range, spending time with her sister, visiting from out of state. I stayed home, because I had enough schoolwork piled up to fill a reeking hockey bag.

And thus, most of my weekend was spend sitting at my kitchen table – grading papers, typing papers, grading tests, writing tests, conjuring unholy troll spells, etc. My work output was prolific, and I celebrated by feeding the damn cats.

By Sunday evening, I had finally finished my studies and quickly raced off to go grocery shopping and run a few errands. When I got home, Bridgette had returned, and the following exchange took place:

ME: Hi, I missed you.
WIFE: I missed you too. Did you go out with your hair looking like that?
*pause*
ME: Yes.
WIFE: And wearing that old sweater?
ME: *drooping head in shame* I guess. But that’s what happens when you aren’t here.
WIFE: What did eat today?
ME: I ate a whole pizza at 11, and I’ve felt sick ever since.

I can’t manage myself, you guys.

Hot off the VCR, here are a couple videos from Three String Chord’s debut concert last week!

Here’s us doing Save Me, a song of mine from back in the old Welmore Mile days…

And here’s us slip-sliding our way through Peaceful, Easy Feeling by the Eagles. I think we managed quite nicely, at least once our singer got started…

For more live recordings and details on our next show, check out our MySpace page!

Hey gang, I’m back. The older, depressed Alan Thicke.

I’ll admit that the last time I spoke to you wasn’t my shining hour. I’ll come right out and say it – I was on a pretty crazy speedball binge at the time. You know how that goes.

Don’t worry about me though, I’m doing great now. Things are on the up and up for Slick Thicke! Say, did I ever tell you that I wrote the theme songs for Diff’rent Strokes and The Facts of Life? Well, I did! I wrote those songs so good, and nobody ever gives me credit! They just think I’m some goofball sitcom actor who ‘roided up in the 90s and spent the early part of this decade laying low in a trailer park in Glendale, Arizona.

Well, there’s a lot more to ol’ Alan Thicke than just that!

Speaking of having written the theme song for Diff’rent Strokes, do you have any idea why they spelled it “diff’rent”? I’ve never gotten a satisfactory answer on that. I guess it probably had something to do with the fact that Mr. Drummond was a crotchety old blueblood!

Come to think of it, I’m probably older than Mr. Drummond by now…

Anyway, my point is that Regal Palms Resort in Orlando, Florida is a great place to spend your Spring Break. I’m proud to be their spokesman, and I’m not ashamed to get drunk out of my mind with their hotel bar’s strawberry daquiris every couple weeks for free.

Thanks to my contract with the Regal Palms Resort, I don’t have to wander back alleys at night doing unspeakable things in exchange for sweaty cash wads anymore. I’m respectable again! Just like in that episode of Growing Pains when I took my son Mike to a Bruce Springsteen concert.

God, I wish I were still on television. Do you have my old agent’s new phone number?

Take my hand, all you children across the world! Join with me as we celebrate diversity!

Let us squeal with delight as we twirl about and dance beneath the shadowless rainbows of eternity! Diversity makes us feel at one with the divine universe, like the morphine-pleasures of old!

Come now, and genuflect before the graven Altar of Diversity®, where all diversity-related wishes come true. If our hearts are pure and our multicultural studies are diverse, our multi-hued foreheads will be anointed by the Inerrant Diversity Masters!

Be sure to swiftly and carefully carry out the wise instructions of the Diversity Masters! If you disobey them, your tongue will be cut out and your genitals will be mutilated as a warning to all those who are intolerant!

DIVERSITY!!!!