Greenville's free alternative weekly

Yo, yo, yo man can you watch my kids while I walk up to store for a grape Phillies and a Mickey’s Big Mouth?

Dear S.C. paranormalist, Jim Callahan, Man, Criss Angel totally got his leather skivvies in a bunch on “Phenomenon” the other night, huh? Just because he can levitate and has that 90s-era Goo Goo Dolls fashion thing going and knows karate and can break out of chains underwater—actually, that’s all pretty cool. Still, he can’t receive messages from the dead and write them on a dry erase board, like you can. Here’s how you deal with him: next time he calls you out and challenges you to tell him what’s written in a sealed envelope, tell him to guess what you’ve got sealed for him in your jeans. Zing! Columbia City Paper

Dear fans of ladies wrestling, This week we mourn the loss of the Fabulous Moolah, one the grandmamas of female wrestling. The editor of this fine paper once met Moolah and recalls the odd feeling that came with the knowledge that an 80-year-old woman could kick his butt. There was also a trained possum in attendance wearing a gold Lamé cape but that’s another story for another time. So, Godspeed, Moolah. City Paper has lots of respect for those who innovate, break down barriers and, most of all, those who don’t take any shit. You were all of the above. Columbia City Paper

Dear television viewers, You should give kudos to the Writers Guild of America for their national strike. Letterman can write his own damn jokes. And, viewers may actually get a kick out of the pitiful hilarity that will ensue when TV execs have to write their own content-heavy hospital melodramas. Or, you could always dust off a good book, America. Walk outside, blinking and rubbing your rat like little eyes at the sun. Take young Jimmy to the park or sit in the garage and inhale car exhaust because anything is better than what they really have in store for you: 24 hours of reality programming. Columbia City Paper

Dear annoying laundromat guy, Yo, yo, yo man can you watch my kids while I walk up to store for a grape Phillies and a Mickey’s Big Mouth? I know you don’t know me, man, but just look at them kids. They good. Like me. If they mama come just tell her I’m takin’ a dump up at the Exxon cause this bathroom here’s broke again. Alright? You need anything? I see you’re trying to read that magazine. Am I interrupting? …I’ll take your silence as a “no.” If Wendell acts up, just slap him one time. Oh, and can you dry my work pants? Just don’t put them in dryer 35; that thing smells like piss. Columbia City Paper