I was just thinking the other day, “Wow, I haven’t blogged about Harold, Kumar, or Harold and Kumar go to White Castle in, like, forever.” So luckily it turns out something big happened a few days ago that remedies this problem. Harold cut his hair! JK/Psych. With the real story, here’s “Ali”:

Okay guys, as you’ve probably heard by now Kal Penn—better known as Kumar, or even better known as the most gorgeous man to ever eat a vegetarian Crave Case at White Castle [ed note: if Bridget got the sex change operation she's been vying for, she could rival him; she would make an attractive vegetarian she-male]—just got a job in the White House. This is fantastic for several reasons:

First, it means that Obama is pretty cool. How many of our presidents do you think actually saw Harold and Kumar go to White Castle?  Actually I take that back, I could see GWB being all over that stupid, stoner humor.  But I bet Bush didn’t get the racial undertones, while Obama totally understood where Roldy and Kumar were coming from.

Secondly, Kumar’s hire further diversifies politics. First it was a black president, then it was a handful of Chinese American cabinet appointments, and now it’s an Indian American becoming associate director in the White House office of public liaison! Has any other Administration looked this much like a Benetton ad?

Thirdly, this means that Kumar will be living in Washington, D.C. It means that I could potentially run into him at a bar and we could fall in love and get married.  Or else I could get him drunk, “forget” a condom and entrap him. Either way, we end up together 4ever!

Maybe in Ali’s next blog, she could explain what an “associate director in the White House office of public liaison” does. If it has anything to do with deciphering the symptoms of a seemingly complex and unexplainable illness within just an hour, then I totally get why Obama hired him. Also, another note to Ali: I hear pinholes are pretty effective.

I’ve decided to live blog the Oscars*. I want to keep thorough notes detailing when Hugh Jackman is awesome, as well as when he’s totally great. But since I’ll be away from my computer, I’ll just write blog posts on paper while I watch, then scan the pages. I figure it’s essentially the same thing. So after you watch the ceremony, come to POP effect for an analysis of Jackman’s presumably brilliant performance. If there is chest-baring or allusions to him being an Australian cowboy/mutant with knives between his knuckles, my posts will just be a series of exclammation points.

*Not really.

AT&T is now marketing one of its phone plans with the lure that it will give you unlimited votes for American Idol. With it’s Messaging Unlimited plan, you’ll no longer be charged extra for text voting! This just highlights how American Idol is one of those massive cultural things that I totally missed out on. Good thing I got hip to Harry Potter, or I’d be completely out of touch.

Spending Christmas with little baby Morgan (age: 8 months) was fun this year, but I cannot wait for when she’s a toddler and understands the concept of Santa Claus; Ariella and I decided it would be hilarious if we made an example of Jenny one year. She’ll open a gift and it’ll be a rock or a pile of dog shit, and then she’ll cry and shake her fist in the air, shouting “Why was I naughty this year? Why did I hit my mother when she tried to buckle my seatbelt? Why do I keep taking my pants off when my parents have company over?” And Morgan will sit there, wide-eyed and terrified of ever doing anything. It’ll be great.

I realized the other day though that this is like the episode of Arrested Development when George Sr. uses his friend J. Walter Weatherman (and his prosthetic arm) to teach the kids lessons. They always involve the limb flying off and blood going everywhere. Thus Jenny will be our J. Walter Weatherman. (“Oh no! Santa gave me a flaming bag of vomit. Why do I insist on watching Wonder Pets when I know it’s time for my nap?”)