Yeah, that's Mister Ua LaMarche to you. Mr. Ua is yet another one of my alter egos, along with Ewe-na LaMar-chee, homemade mayonnaise queen of Knoxville, Tennessee. I like to think that Mr. Ua needs no last name, kind of like Mr. T. Ua! (I also like to think it's pronounced like that sound Al Pacino makes in Scent of a Woman.)
I also got a letter this weekend from The Danbury Mint. I always open anything that says "mint," because you never know when it might be a fat check or a box of Peppermint Patties. But this... oh, this turned out to be almost as good.
It was an order form for the MICHELLE OBAMA INAUGURAL DOLL. Like many things too good to be true, I had to announce her in ALL CAPS.
"Own a piece of history," the brochure pleaded, like it was selling pieces of the Berlin Wall or sand from Omaha Beach instead of a creepy porcelain First Lady glued to an air hockey puck. I do kind of want to own Michelle, though. I bet she'd fit in great with my other dolls, Annie Hall and Alvy Singer, Mr. and Mrs. Satan, and Bartman.
I can see their Toy Story-like interactions now...
Michelle: Why, hello. Do you like my Jason Wu?
Alvy: My grammy never had a Jason Wu. She was too busy getting raped by Cossacks.
Mrs. Satan: Does it come in black?
P.S. Wow, this blog has devolved to filibuster-like content. I'm not reading the phone book yet, but last month you came along with me as I got my passport photo taken, on Thursday Jeff and I filled out our census form and you just basically watched me open my mail. My driver's license is up for renewal in 2015, so get excited!