TheCrosbyReport™ | The website of San Francisco Bay Area Senior Advertising Copywriter, Peter Crosby

Birds bring it, dogs and cats get served.

Ornithologists and bird-fanciers can (finally) hold their heads up high, extend their headcrest feathers and let loose a shrill “Ha, ha!” at arrogant owners of normal adorable, cuddly, and quiet pets. For centuries, bird owners have been viewed as the full-on nut-cases of Crazy Pet Owner set—more so than even the cat owners who dress theirs in matching sweaters, or the dog owners who carry theirs in a purse. But scientists now believe there is more to birds like cockatoos than just high-pitched shrieking, newspaper soiling and dirty-sounding names.

Diet Coke may be massacring my mitochondria

I simply refuse to believe that my daily fix of Diet Coke, a delicious carbonated beverage that tastes like a combination of cola, chemicals and metal shavings, could be unhealthy. But more and more research implies just that.

What your astrological sign says about you: Namely, that you know too much about Astrology.

When I was first introduced to the concept of Astrology as a kid, I was skeptical. After all, believing that the position of the planets and stars could impact your life in any meaningful way, let alone dictate your daily behavior, seemed...what's the word? Oh, yeah, stupid. But the more I learned about this ancient "science," the more I came to feel that people DID seem to reflect the personality traits predicted by their sign. But how? Finally, I read the book that empirically and scientifically explained how and why Astrology really works.

Evidently, Bush wasn’t a pigheaded, fear-mongering liar—just a Conservative.

For 8 years, I believed George Bush was an unrepentant charlatan, an ineloquent dolt and a power-hungry madman, but maybe—just maybe—I was wrong about him. Maybe there was another reason for his lies, war-mongering and mass eradication of our Constitutionally guaranteed rights and freedoms.

The dangers of finding your Doppelgänger.

Recently, I set up a nifty GoogleAlert to notify me by email, anytime my name appeared on The Interwebs—seemed like a good idea at the time. But then, so did inventing the internal-combustion engine and look at how well that turned out. Unfortunately, there's another guy with the same name who lives in the same town—a curious coincidence, to be sure. As a result, I get an email every time either of our names appear on the web. But it gets worse...

Peter can't remember any of the TV commercials. Including the Pro-Life one. Did he miss it?

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© 1991-present. Originally intended to consolidate the arduous task of penning large numbers of heartfelt correspondence into a single, impersonal, one-size-fits-all tome, The Crosby Report has blossomed into a massive black-hole of wasted time and resources, causing not merely intense marital strife and near-crippling financial debt, but the early stages of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome as well. Enjoy.

Mazatlán, Mexico: Lots to do and lots of reasons not to do any of it.

We didn't pick Mazatlán, Mexico as a vacation destination for its deep-sea fishing, sailing or any of the other things you can reportedly do there. We picked it because of all the things you don’t do there. Namely, put on pants or shoes (or deodorant, judging from the smell of our fellow tourists). This was our "sit around drinking Mexican beer while reading People Magazine" vacation. But despite our near lack of observable movement, I somehow managed to find things worth writing about: Iguanas, mostly.

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Cancun, Mexico: It's not all beer chugging and wet t-shirt contests (dammit).

We hadn't originally planned our two-week vacation to Mexico for its affordability but—when weeks later I found myself unemployed (like the rest of the planet)—it seemed like a prescient choice. Regardless of its favorable exchange rate, Mexico was nonetheless a country with fascinating archeological sites and a rich history that would allow us to slip in a bit of culture between Marghitas.

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New Orleans, Louisiana: Hey, who got their Europe in our America?

Having been to New Orleans a few times, I'd still never fully explored this cultural anomaly; this veritable European city within America's American borders. Lacking only a fleet of washing machine-sized automobiles and a staunch refusal to use deodorant, New Orleans could pass one of the Old Country's crown jewels such as Roma or Paris. Its ample European influences—French-inspired architecture, for example—give the city a character that's unique, sophisticated and almost universally ignored by drunk American tourists.

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