Do I Yahoo? That's rather a personal question, don't you think? Buddy, I may be yahooin' at this exact moment, for all you know. The way I see it, everyone goes through their yahoo phase - a short, intense period of near-constant yahooery, an explosion of personal discovery and confidence-boosting self-gratification that's only cut short by, say, your mom or dad barging in on you in the act and wondering aloud, "What in the world wide web do you think you're doing, you freakish, hormone-crazed product of my loins?"

Needless to say, after that embarrassment, you're a bit too chagrined to yahoo as often as you once did. I guess that's what growing up is all about. As for myself, I still yahoo, but not very often - I'm far too busy googling. Bizarre, ain't it?
 

I don't work that freaking awful Sam Goody job anymore. It was all a bad dream ... wasn't it? WASN'T IT? A friend to mall slaves everywhere, Retail!! allows this escapee to visit those harrowing days of yesteryear from a detached, comic viewpoint that puts a glow to those nightmarish days and nights spent behind the cash register, without sugar-coating the ugly realities. Here are all the good times I remember: the lady demanding to use her credit card for a purchase just short of 30 cents, the men exposing themselves behind the racks, the Kleenex-hurling miscreants. The "Jadometer" will tell you how jaded you've become under company auspices. A Retail Haiku section is, well, sublimely self-explanatory ("Ungrateful Old Man / Storms Explode In His Eyeballs / Because It's Not Cheap"). And Matt Riffle's terrifying retail yarn, "The Store," would make better genre cinema than any number of "Halloween" sequels, though I think "Excuse Me, Do You Work Here?" is a more terror-inducing title, in the spirit of "I Still Know What You Did Behind The Racks." In Housewares, no one can hear you scream.
 

The Payphone Project celebrates its namesake utilitarian object at a time its utility is becoming suspect - when everybody and his brother Graham can afford a cellular phone, who will use these stoic sentinels from the dawn of the communication age? The Randomizers, that's who. Mark Thomas' quirky site makes pay phones chic again and for the first time, simply by providing the numbers of phones from around the globe, some accompanied by descriptions and (even better) photos. Bored? Lonely? Call the observation deck of Le Tour Eiffel ... buzz bewildered tourists at Knott's Berry Farm ... bell someone lurking at the gates of Buckingham Palace ... the fun just doesn't stop. A true bastion of Jet Set cool and film noir intrigue at once. Who will pick up that phone?
 

Dual-pronged disclaimer now: A) This site is not for the squeamish, and B) the Passenger is not big on scatological humor, so you can keep your Precious Bodily Fluid Sites to Your Own Personal Self. (Even Crosby's on the scat tip - he actually suggested I do "an all-fluids Passenger" someday. Last time he subs for me, brother. He may put up a detached, literate high-ahht front, but he's really a big doody-head, just like the others.) That said, I can suggest the Tokyo Toilet Map with a clear conscience. It's about cultural adjustment, not creeping excrement - and site creator Yuuji Hayashi deserves a bit fat pile of kudos for giving us the straight poop on this delicate matter. Never again will you fret over the correct use of a Japanese toilet, after following the simple, (somewhat) tastefully illustrated instructions provided here. And after perusing Hayahi's photographs of Tokyo's cleanest ("I think this toilet is a little known hot spot") and dirtiest ("It is sh-t outside of bowl and the worst smell. Help me!"), you, too, will Rest Easy. Just remember: as with many of life's challenges, balance is key.
 

Remember the video for that KLF remake of the "Dr. Who" theme? The one that featured that old cop car racing around, defeating washing machines from another planet? Hmm ... perhaps I imagined it. At any rate, Copcar Dot Com boasts photos of every black and white, paddy wagon, armored van and mobile kennel that's ever gone barreling down the highway, looking for feckless perpetrators like you. Of particular note is Greg Reynolds' killer collection of 1950's cop car photographs. Ain't that '48 Chevy a real beauty? A more stylish parade of "tell it to the judge"-mobiles you'll never see, pally. Keep your nose clean.

Did Yahoo call? Not that I'm afraid of a lawsuit or anything, it's just that Valentine's Day is coming up ... I'd better get at least a card from those bastards, that's all I can say. Portals! Hah!