I am an amazingly powerful superhero.

I haven't quite learned how to apply my powers to the real world yet. I'm not sure how to use my powers to save lives and influence world affairs, but I have sent my super resume out to several super organizations, and I'm waiting to hear back.

My power is that I can think of a line or scene from an episode of The Simpsons, and then they play that very episode the very same day. Seriously, watch out for me. It happens at least once or twice a week. At least!

Just yesterday, I was thinking of a scene where Homer tries to advertise a bowling alley by standing out in front of it, firing a shotgun into the air, screaming "Bowling! Get your bowling here!" It might sound eerie to you, but believe me, I was not surprised to see that very episode air that night. I have no predictions as to what episode may be on tonight, but it's early yet.

Fear me.

Speaking of coincedences, yesterday, Miss Louise was trying to use her own amazing powers by issuing commands to me through the wonders of instant messaging. Her very last command was that I should "eat a ham and cheese sandwich."

Little did she know that grilled ham and cheese sandwiches are my latest food obsession. I'm not sure what prompted this new phase in Bill Eating, but such is life. I had one saturday night, and I was all too happy to comply with her wishes yesterday. What makes it especially easy is that there is a little mom 'n' pop hot dog shop down the street that serves said sandwich with fries for less than three bucks.

Cheap, greasy, and fatty: That's the way for me!

And as if yesterday couldn't have produced any more coincedences than it already did, I had been thinking about posting this very picture, seen here in full color:

Some of you may have seen that before. That's a picture of Sally and I welcoming the year 2000 A.D. in much style. Sally's face doesn't normally show up all blurry like that. She just doesn't like her image floating around this evil, heathen internet, so she had me blur it up. It's really too bad, because in that picture she is smiling in the cutest possible way. Actually, I've done you a favor by blurring it, because her look is one of such pure, unhinged joy, that it might make you sad to look upon it and realize that you don't feel quite so happy in comparison.

So, you're welcome.

I, on the other hand, look merely like a champagne swilling drunken reveler, which, of course, I was. That was a fun night. I have never felt quite so nauseated on public transportation. The twists and turns of Chicago's el' are nightmarish when combined with liquor.

(Man, look at me. Eyes closed, eyebrows up. No idea what I was thinking.)

But that's not the point. Yesterday, LadeeLeroy wrote a fine entry about a friend of hers who was considering the purchase of a jacket with fringe on it. "Such a jacket cannot possibly be attractive!" I thought. "Her friend is surely a moron."

Boy, was I wrong:

Now that's a damn fine jacket. I should have known that such a jacket would be so fine, especially after having seen 'The Royal Tennenbaums.' I used to be so much better at predicting the fashion. I used to know, somehow, what would be hot, and what would not. I now suck at it.

For example, I think it was going into this fall that I predicted a resurgence in the wearing of denim jackets. I don't know where that thought came from, but I felt I was correct. It turns out that I was only half right. Sure, there was a bit of a denim jacket revival, but it's not so cool to own them when Osco (think low rent drugstore) is selling them from a rack in the front of the store for $14.99.

I'm upset with style these days. The early '90s were a fine period for me. It was the renaissance of Grunge Bill, a time when anything slightly funky and old was cool gear. My dad's old clothes were a never ending resource of nice shirts, and I enjoyed compliments aplenty for my fashion choices (in fact, I was threatened with bodily harm by frat boys on several occasions for wearing some of those shirts, which is a great compliment in itself, really). Thrift stores were still untapped mines, yielding gems of hip shirts for a mere 80 cents, and nice weathered Levi's for $2.

Nowadays, fashion seems a lot more tricky. After Grunge Bill made his exit, there was a brief flirtation with Bill II, New Formula and Crystal Bill, but they were discontinued due to a major lack of consumer interest. I've now settled on Classic Bill, for the lack of any better ideas.

Classic Bill is happy in jeans and gym shoes, and solid dark colors. No more patterns. Classic Bill always wears jeans that are kind of 'boot cut,' and always covers his ass with them. Classic Bill does not like gigantic hooded sweatshirts.

Damn kids.

There is one item I will miss from those days, though. I'd wear it if I knew where it was, but I think it was one of those things that happened to escape during some move. This t-shirt was one of my prized possessions. It fit me just right, and it was just obnoxious enough. I have recreated it in photoshop:

Apparently, it was something Jimmy Carter said when meeting an Israeli prime minister.

Someone once offered me $20 for that shirt, right off my back. I didn't even have to think about it. If I ever find out what happened to that shirt, I will be one happy, happy man.