"Justify The Size Of Your Head, Sir"

We were particularly amused this afternoon by this clever piece on McSweeney's, otherwise known as "the Web site for those who don't actually have time to finish anything but can still call themselves a writer by getting a sestina about 'Survivor' published." (We kid McSweeney's; we love McSweeney's.) The conceit: Charlie Brown is being grilled on the witness stand about his abuse of steroids.

BROWN: He's my dog, sir. He said he got the stuff from Woodstock. D.A.: Wah wah wah-wah? BROWN: A little yellow bird, sir. D.A.: Wah wah-wah wah wah wah-wah wah wah wah wah-wah-wah wah-wha-wah wah wah wah wah. BROWN: Yes, sir. D.A.: Wah wah wah wah-wah-wah wah-wah? BROWN: We were boyhood friends, sir. D.A.: Wah wah-wah wah wah wah wah wah? BROWN: My head's always been this big. Ask Sally. And I'm not going bald; I've never had more than three hairs, sir.

Afterwards, of course, someone presumably threw Charles Schulz in jail for refusing to reveal his sources.

Charlie Brown Has Never Knowingly Taken Steroids [McSweeney's]