Bill would end home delivery of mail

This would have been up sooner, but those YouTube self-tasering videos are like salted peanuts. Warning: profanity in the title. But the video is proof that Fitzgerald was wrong: there are second acts in American lives. I'm just disappointed the guy didn't say "Hold my beer" first." Anyway:

GOODBYE MAILBOXIn Soviet Russia, you go to mail! No, that's not it. In United States, postman is you! Better. CNN says:

Why? It costs $353 per house to deliver your mail, says the article. I presume that's annually. If it's daily, you can understand why they're losing money. Another interesting stat: "Delivering mail is the agency's largest fixed cost -- $30 billion. Ending such door deliveries would save $4.5 billion a year." So it costs $25.5 billion a year to do the things best described as "not delivering mail." Wow.

"Cluster boxes" will be a new term for anything overstuffed and ignored, because not everyone will run down to the box to get their mail. It's snowing out, it's raining, it's hot, whatever: do you want to trudge down to see if you have another envelope full of coupons for window blinds and closet shelves and $10 off that restaurant on the other side of town? No. So it'll sit there. In a few years you'll look at a itchen drawer that's brimming with junk and think "what a clusterbox this thing has become."

NEWS Provocative headline from Quartz: "If you're younger than 28, you've never experienced a month of below average global temperature." To which I would add: if you're older than 48, you've never experienced a year of above average global temperature, inasmuch as one cannot experience global temperature.

Elsewhere: did you hear about the Chinese airport bombing? Fox News:

That he did. This video shows the explosion, but not the aftermath:

POPPIN' DEATH A reader writes:

I think I do. For some reason I remember it as an SNL skit, but nothing comes up on YouTube. This site has more info; the piece appears to be lost to the mists of history. Ah well; there's plenty of happy Doughboy about. This one has a surprising end; I guess the Lizard was off that week.

Happy as the Doughboy on his way to a baking convention? You'd think the prospect would fill him with dread, like a human on his way to a meeting of the American Association of Cannibals. Unless it's understood by all not to cook the sentient dough. Also: did you know he was once on the Magic Circus, in puppet form?