OK goys, gals and shiksas, put away the knives. This boy has always avoided "clip joints" of ANY persuasion. No more "cutting remarks" or "slice of life" stories allowed. If you've got any more "hot tips" for me, keep 'em to yourself.

Naturally I was afraid that Catspaw might see this thread and turn it into something unfit for (passover) dinner conversation, and of course I was right. The mensch is incorrigible, and is probably slumped in front of his computer plotzing over his putz humour.

Truth is, because of my rather prominent schnozz, wickedly brilliant wit, ironic outlook on life, exceptionally anglisized name (Fielding might have been changed from Feldman) and uncanny ability to imitate Jackie Mason, I've often FELT Jewish. Now if I could just summon up the nerve to take out the "bris" blade on my Swiss Army knife and... Nahhh, I don't have enough material to play the Catskills. I'll just stick to worshipping Woodie Allan movies.

Moishe Fielding