My One Favorite Thing this week is Raspberry Sorbet-flavored Ice Cubes gum from Ice Breakers. It's a fucking party for your mouth every time you pop one of these babies in.

I certainly hope this Hamlet-inspired edition of the question column pleaseth the millions (or at least the hundredths of daggers) and not be caviare to the general ... (btw, it's caviar, not murder, that is most foul, both in concept and taste).

1. Something is rotten in the state of [Dagblog]?

2. A dream itself is but a shadow?

3. O most pernicious woman! O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain?

4. When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions?

5. To be honest as this world goes is to be one man picked out of ten thousand?

So I still happen to be digging Geo Challenge - I don't even want to think about all the hours I've spent on Facebook Playfish games this year. I think they somehow figured out how to put crack cocaine in their code and time-capsule release it over the wires on the Interweb and through the speakers on my computer. I think in some states, Playfish and I would be common law married about now.

Since I'm home for the Thanksgiving weekend, I figured I'd compose a bunch of questions relating to childhood and hometowns. Many of these assume you have parents who are still alive and a 'normal' upbringing (you know, nuclear family and all), so please accept my apologies if this isn't the case and feel free to adjust the question if at all possible (by going back in time or thinking about your own children perhaps) to fit your situation.

1. You are getting sleepy?

2. First crush?

3. Regress much?

So my girlfriend and I decided a couple of months ago to surprise my parents with a trip home. The folks knew my brother was coming in, but I had told them that the flights were too expensive, especially since we had just seen them in August out in California for a cousin's wedding. But I changed my mind and bought the tickets soon after, and then continued to tell repeated lies about our plans for the holiday .

If you're single, and you want to meet someone, where do you go? People always meet one another at bars, right? Get a little drunk, engage in a little chit-chat with comely strangers, perhaps take one home, at least get some digits. Right? Wrong. I, for one, have never had the courage to converse with strangers. Well, that’s not entirely correct. Once engaged in conversation, I can talk with just about anybody, though I may bore them to distraction. What I cannot do is approach a complete stranger and initiate conversation.

This post is not about a break-up or a political conversion. It is literally about how I lost my religion, more or less, and became an atheist. I thought about posting it yesterday but decided to spare the believers who care about me from witnessing me commit sacrilege on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, when we are supposed to beg for God's forgiveness in case he left us off the Book of Life this year. I don't think there is any evidence that atheists suffer from higher death rates than believers, so whatever the drawbacks to atheism, premature death does not appear to be one of them.