My wife and I had such a great time at Eric Joyner's art opening last week at the Corey Helford Gallery here in L.A. On display was a whole new slew of robot and donut art.

The new paintings are fantastic and the gallery even provided strolling donut girls to fit the theme. Unfortunately they were human and not robots, but we were willing to overlook this gross oversight.

If you're in LA, you can still see the show in person until Dec. 23. Or check out all the new paintings right here at the gallery's official site.

Here's Eric's official site. You can buy prints right here or check out more fun robot stuff at Eric's online store.

When I was little I had a small plastic car from The Archies. I guess it came from a cereal box.

I really loved this car. Which is why it doesn't make much sense that one day I marched into the bathroom while my dad was shaving, unceremoniously dropped it in the toilet, said "Bye bye, Archie Car!" and flushed it down.

I clearly wasn't thinking of the consequences. I just envisioned my car travelling through the pipes, finally achieving the motion and speed a hot rod like that deserved.

I have no idea what my three-year-old had in his head when we heard him flush the toilet the other day.

The conversation went something like:

"Did you just flush the toilet?"

"Yes."

"Did you flush anything down?"

"Yes."

"What did you flush?"

"The blue thing."

"What blue thing?"

"The track. The blue track."

The mystery of "The Blue Track" was born.

My wife and I spent the rest of the day thinking and questioning him, trying to figure out what exactly the blue track could be. We didn't crack the case, but our best guess was that he was referring to a plastic arm that held one of his tub toys to the wall.

Since he flushed the mysterious blue track, the toilet hadn't been working right. We had to call a plumber. I wasn't happy to have to spend money on this now, but at least we might unravel the mystery.

The plumber arrived and began fishing for the "blue track." A few minutes later he announced that he had retrived what my son had flushed.

It was neither blue, nor a track. It was the bath tub stopper.

Of all the things that I'd prefer my son do not flush down the toilet, I'd say the round rubber pipe-sized one that's DESIGNED TO STOP WATER is probably toward the top of the list.

We paid the plumber and he went on his way. Later that day we realized the toilet is still not flushing correctly and we're convinced the "blue track" is still down there. Along with God knows what else.

The plumber is coming back to see what else he can find. I'll keep you posted.

As far as my money goes: that's Bye bye, Archie car.

The holidays are built on tradition, which means it's time for us to gather around the yule log and listen to that insane rendition of O Holy Night.

It has been a year, and it remains as beautifully horrible as I remember. (Here it is, presented in magical streaming whatever-it-is that makes it work.)

What I love about it is just when you think it couldn't possibly get any worse, it does. By a lot. And it does this more than once, building to the most glorious mess I've ever heard. I smile every time I hear it.

That piccolo post from last week has had me thinking about silly instruments. So today I ordered a quality, metal SLIDE WHISTLE!

My goal is to master this ridiculous instrument as quickly as possible and regale you all with holiday tunes in the weeks to come.

I swear to God, it can't get here soon enough.

And as an added bonus -- musicians always get the chicks! It may not be the most manly instrument, but I don't think that matters. I'm just excited to get this thing in my mouth and start sliding it up and down.