Bloody Thursday
I would like to apologize to all my fellow bloggers that I accused yesterday of being lazy, incompetent non-posting losers. It turns out that due to some sort of technical glitch, when I would click on the links to blogs I read, they weren't being automatically updated to the newest entry. So it looked like everyone in the whole world had stopped posting on Monday. I tried really hard not to take it personally, but I'll be honest, it was wearing on me. I've never gotten the silent treatment from a hundred total strangers all at once before. It was sort of awesome and sad all at the same time, like the scenes at the end of some crappy movie about the apocalypse where survivors walk through the streets of some deserted metropolis in quiet, tragic wonder just before the army of zombies rounds the corner and eats them.

I found out that if I hit refresh, I could see all the new postage I missed. And then I was sort of sad again, because I realized I had to read all that junk. As hard as it had been when nobody was apparently posting, it sure made getting through my blog roll a lot faster. I had more time to sit and ponder my own greatness while not porn surfing. Not.

So I welcome all of you back. Even though you never actually left.

For the record, however, I'm going to be unlike our brave and sober president and avoid personal responsibility on this one. As in all things, I blame Blogger. Every time they try to fix and/or update something, I am personally made to suffer. And if I suffer, unfortunately, the Bucketeers are the ones I take it out on. I would apologize more sincerely but, again, Blogger. Bad evil Blogger. It obviously hates you personally as well. It doesn't sound like much now, but when it develops sentience, there could be trouble.

I don't have a grand thematic treatise to lay on you today as I did yesterday. I'm somewhat distracted by the impending arrival of the exterminator guy who is going to help us catch the mouse currently living in our laundry room. I'm about 90% sure the exterminator guy left the mouse here when he came to get the ants a few weeks ago, but whatever. Apparently it's some kind of genetically engineered super-mouse that can recognize and avoid conventional consumer-brand mousetraps and is allergic to peanut butter because I can't catch the fucker by myself. So I'll play along, I'll call the man out to catch the mouse he planted here. He'll probably whistle for it or call it by name and it will scurry out, crawl up his leg onto his shoulder and laugh at me as I hand over $30 for his time and trouble. Stupid mouse.

The point is, I'm slightly distracted as the guy could show up at any second. He said "sometime after 8 am", which means somewhere between right now and tomorrow. Honestly, they're worse than the cable people.

Two news items I'd like to point out very quickly:

Gillette announces five-blade razor.

This was in the news. Not a corporate press release, this is news. A headline and an article and everything. I was completely incredulous. I couldn't help but thinking: what kind of a pussy shaves with only four blades on his razor? I've been Scotch-taping three to five extra straight-blades to my conventional two-blade disposable razors for a long time, so for me this is going to be really convenient. The savings on tape alone should justify the cost.

Aside to the people of Gillette and Schick, seriously, I'd like to say: please stop. An arms race like this is how World War I got started. If Norelco steps in and makes some kind of "blank check" defensive accord with either one, hide your Archdukes if you got 'em because we're all fucked.

The second and last thing:

Britney Spears gives birth to baby boy.

I know you all knew this, but I'd highlight a couple of passages from the article.

"...Spears was taken to the hospital early on Wednesday morning with a police escort and accompanied by her husband, dancer Kevin Federline."

and this is the best part:

"Spears, who married Federline in September last year, had been previously reported as saying she planned to have the baby by Caesarean section to avoid the pain of a natural birth."

People always ask me why I'm so bent on making myself a world-wide pop cultural phenomenon. Not only do you have the option of avoiding the everyday annoyance that plague the average non-pop-cultural-phenomenon-type people, like traffic and stoplights because you can request a police escort just like the President of the United States but you have the option of avoiding even the unpleasant part of natural occurrences like child-birth. Maybe it isn't that you're scared it will really hurt. Maybe you just think the whole process is "icky", what with the living creature and all the accompanying fluids and extraneous wobbly bits shooting out of your hoo-ha. The point is that for the pop-cultural-phenomenon, even the basic functions of the human body are optional.

I love what Britney's done with childbirth and I envy it. I really do. I can't wait to see what she does with death. After I make this blog a household name, she and I and Tom Cruise can all try it together.



This post on the Narcissus Scale: 7.7


Pops
- posted by Pops @ 9:19 AM