Okay fashion show staff, you’re all aware of our problem.

Our designer shoes are so uncomfortable, our models won’t wear them. As you can see here, they just take them off in the middle of the runway!

We’ve had lots of falls recently, and now, God forbid, people have started debating whether women have the right to wear “comfortable” shoes to work. This could be the end of us.

Herb, I liked your idea of filling the shoes with airplane glue, but unfortunately people in the front row can smell it, and we can’t have fashion editors getting stoned.

I’m afraid that leaves us with Lonnie’s suggestion, shoeing the models sort of like horses.

I think the discomfort of having a few nails stuck into their feet to hold the shoes on has been exaggerated, and our medical coverage does cover tetanus shots, right?

But Lonnie, DO remember to measure the nails. The sight of having them come out the top of the foot might be a fashion turn-off…

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A model removes her shoes as she displays an outfit by designer Carlos Doblas during Madrid Fashion Week Spring/Summer 2010 show, September 18, 2009.

A model gets help making her shoes more slip-resistant before taking part in Alma Aguilar’s Spring/Summer 2010 show in Madrid, September 21, 2009.

REUTERS photos by Susana Vera

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“Hello? What? Yes, this is Mr. Obama speaking.

“No, it’s not pronounced like the bama in Alabama, it sounds like… I’m kinda busy, what’s this about?

“Well, I’m in a parking garage now, and I am getting good reception.

“Huh? You’ve noticed my roaming charges are high? Yeah, I guess I’d be interested in a cheaper plan…

“Wait a minute! So I can’t qualify for your ‘Home or Roam’ plan because I don’t live in a residential neighborhood?

“I don’t CARE if your records show my house is zoned for office use! Do I own or rent? Look, I just live there for free!”

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President Barack Obama talks on a phone in the parking garage before a rally on health insurance reform at the University of Maryland in College Park, Maryland, September 17, 2009. REUTERS/ Larry Downing

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Okay, fashion show staff, I wanna know who played this little joke, and I wanna know now!

You know what I’m talking about. One of you printed up some “books” with that Microsoft Wingdings font, and told the models there would be a “test” after the show!

So naturally, the models ignored their jobs and spent all their time trying to “study” this gibberish!

You think that’s funny, Lonnie? We had models forgetting to flounce, strut, prance, sashay….

For God’s sake, some of them didn’t even remember to POUT! You think anybody is gonna buy our creations if they don’t see pouting?

And I didn’t mention the cruelest part. Some of the girls are already buying “cheat sheets” for the “test.” I hope you’re real proud of yourself!

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Models wait their turn backstage for make-up before the Jill Stuart Spring 2010 fashion show during New York Fashion Week, September 14, 2009.  REUTERS/Stephen Chernin

A model gets ready before presenting a creation at the Georges Chakra Spring 2010 collection during New York Fashion Week September 12, 2009. REUTERS/Kena Betancur

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Blog Guy, I’m hoping you can help me out with a fashion dilemma.

I’m a gal who likes wearing a comfy bikini on a sun-drenched beach vacation. But if there’s a really hunky guy there, I want to look my natural best, which includes enhancing my swimsuit with padding to make my you-know-whats look big.

Your feet?

No. Think about it, Blog Guy. Anyway, of course by the time I spot the hunk it’s too late to run back to the changing room, so what am I to do?

Say no more. Check out the “Quickini,” from a fashion show today. It’s the answer to your problem.

This chick is listening carefully for the sound of other women laughing and flirting behind her, a sure sign that a muscle-bound hunk is coming up. A quick flip of the Quickini pads hanging on her shoulders, and they’re in place to make her look like she’s so top-heavy she can barely stand up!

That’s perfect! But what happens if the hunk still doesn’t notice me?

I wouldn’t worry too much about that as long as he’s breathing.

Please vote in the Coolest Leader Dude poll

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A model presents a creation by Turkish designer Idil Tarzi during a fashion show at the Istanbul Fashion Days, August 27, 2009. REUTERS/Murad Sezer

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If you’re like me - and I’m sorry if that’s the case - then you get frequent queries like this one via Facebook. It seems that Debbie Somebody wants to put my birthday on her calendar. Is that okay with me, it asks?

Sure, I guess so. I mean, Debbie probably wants to remember to get me something nice, maybe even have a surprise party for me.

But then I get this next message, which says that in order order to do this, Debbie’s calendar application needs to pull my profile info, my photos, my friends’ info and “other content.”

I have to presume “other content” means my sex change medical records, my birth certificate from Kenya and that 1970 photo of me in a Nehru jacket.

Jeez Debbie, WTF?  Isn’t it possible for you to just grab a pencil and write, “Bob’s birthday, August 5,” on your wall?

I mean, if you watch TV, you remember that Tony Soprano whacked Big Pussy Bonpensiero for giving up a LOT less information than your application wants from me. Watch your back, Deb.

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Left: “Sopranos” actors Vincent Pastore (Big Pussy Bonpensiero) (L) and Frank Vincent in 2004 file photo. REUTERS

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Blog Guy, I have a question about the space program. How do those astronauts unwind after a tough day of space walking and stuff?

Are you stupid? You’ve never seen Battlestar Gallactica? They have a Space Bar up on the space station now.

Really! I’ve never seen that.

That’s because NASA tries to protect the image of its squeaky clean astronauts. But these new photos show Bartender Floyd mixing up drinks despite weightlessness.

Hold on. If there’s a bar in space, then they must also have pickup lines.

Sure. According to Floyd, here are the top five lines guys use on chicks up there:

5. So, you come here often?

4. You know, what happens in space stays in space…

3, Hi cutie, you look great! Have you lost some weight?

2, Why don’t you take off that helmet and oxygen tank and get comfy?

And the number one pickup line in space is still:

1, Hey baby, wanna join the 210-mile-high club?

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Finland’s Rauno Tiainen competes in the ‘flair’ discipline while preparing a Love Boat 1 cocktail during the 35th World Cocktail competition in Berlin, August 10, 2009. REUTERS/Thomas Peter

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Blog Guy, it’s been a while since you spotted a new sign of the onrushing Apocalypse. I guess things must be getting a little better?

Hardly. The Apocalyptic story of the year is this week’s “One dead in ear-cleaning salon attack.”

To Apocalypse watchers it might as well say, “Enormous asteroid hurtles toward Muncie.”

I mean, gosh. what are the chances a place where men go to rest their heads on a woman’s lap and get their ears cleaned might attract some nutjobs?

Ah, I get you. You’re saying those places should be banned?

Heck no. I’m just saying the swabs they use should be six inches longer, red-hot and pointed at the end.

Don’t hold back, Blog Guy. You don’t think ear-cleaning salons are a good idea?

No. Why can’t those guys just go through a car wash with the windows down, like the rest of us?

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Right: A woman, complete with special gadgets, tends to a customer at a park in Changzhou, China, in a 2002 file photo. The practitioner renders ear-cleaning, head and body massage and acupressure services.
REUTERS/Claro Cortes IV

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Welcome back to a feature we like to call, Haven’t These Guys Ever Seen a Movie?

In life, we should always defer to the wisdom of those who have wasted countless hours in the local multiplex, and yet we never do.

You take this video report, which tells us “Jurassic Park revives in Japan thanks to virtual reality technology.”

Raise your hand if you think a Jurassic Park REVIVAL is a smart idea, considering how well it’s always worked before.

Right. And yet, it’s clearly going to take a museum full of school children, trapped overnight during an electrical storm, and assorted bloody kid torsos dangling like stringy gristle from steel-trap dino jaws, to teach us another lesson.

Kids, whatever you do, DON’T press that big red button in the control room, because… Uh-oh, I’m afraid that’s gonna be trouble…

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A few months ago I launched a Facebook Network Page for readers of this blog. It was largely a public service, so readers could recognize and avoid one another in social situations.

Anyway, fast-forward to yesterday, when some innocent reader became the 2,000th person who was willing to admit to following this blog.

This is pretty exciting stuff, considering that when I started the page I had trouble getting ten people to confirm they knew me and that this was really my blog.

It is loyal readers like you who have earned Oddly Enough more pageviews this year than any other Reuters blog, and we have like three dozen really good ones.

To celebrate this milestone, please share this blog with friends, or if you’d rather, with people you don’t like very much. My numbers go up either way.

Or, you may want to share it via Digg, Mixx, Twitter, or link to it from your own blog, or print it out and stuff it in mailboxes.

If you haven’t visited the Facebook page it’s worth a look. You don’t get much out of it, but then it IS free, isn’t it? You can comment on this blog, you can rate it, and as I already mentioned, you can spot 2,000 people you’ll want to avoid.

Besides, where else are you going to find a photo of a chick who looks like Kramer and has goldfish in her bra, huh?

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A model presents a creation by Colombian designer Diego Morales during the Expomoda 2009 show in Palmira province June 4, 2009. REUTERS/Jaime Saldarriaga

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Blog Guy, are you able to answer questions about the election process in emerging democracies in other parts of the world?

Sure. My resources are endless.

Whenever there is an election these days, I see news photos of voters holding up ink-stained  fingers, I guess to keep them from casting more than one ballot.

Yes. Photographers now have a quota of ink-stained finger shots on voting day. As iconic photos go, this one has replaced the victory sign and the thumbs-up.

Looks like it makes the photographer’s job pretty easy.

Not really. You do have to make sure they’re not holding up the wrong finger in an obscene gesture. But didn’t you have a serious question?

Right. If blue ink is the way they keep elections honest, I’m worried about how the Smurfs will vote, since they’re blue to begin with.

They can’t vote. But Papa Smurf runs Smurf Village with an iron grip, and they are decades away from an election process.

But couldn’t Inventor Smurf come up with a different color ink that would…

Just let it go.

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Above: Presidental candidate Mir Hossein Mousavi holds his inked stained finger and identity card after casting his vote during the Iranian presidential election, June 12, 2009. REUTERS/Raheb Homavandi

Left: Assorted ink-stained voters, and Papa Smurf

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