Item the First: news: Best take on the Buffalo Beheading:
Not even FOX will cover this story the way The Nose on Your Face will. Good job, guys.
But, Hélas! Poor, poor Mr. Metamucil is actually the victim in all the atrocitiness of the happening. Let us pity the fool. Or not. He's going to plead not guilty. Let me guess...he is suffering from some form of 'mental illness' that Islam has absolutely NOTHING whatsoever to do with, right? Yeah, I thought so. It always seems to be the case
Ahhh, so many, many things to rant about.
Verily, verily, I say unto you all, we are swirling in the bottom of the bowl.
Item number Two:
Being famouslike for the sake of Being famous OR The Creepy Leading the Creep
Angelina Jolie is 'creeped out' by her ultimate fan. You know, the one whose imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
The proper response to that is this: Shudder, gag, vomit, evacuate the bowels, flush bowl, wash face, hands, and vigorously brush the teeth....then weep. On the floor. In a fetal position.
Item number three: Via American Digest, via Exurban League. Heh. What do you suppose they had for dinner?
Item number four: My 30th year class reunion, which is next year, and so I say hello to all of my classmates from the class of 1980. If you don't remember me, here are some reminders:
I occasionally attended school.
I received an honorary high school diploma in 1980 from East Valley High School, Yakima Washington, where I graduated with Pity (Summa cum Badly) GPA: 1.28
I am the 1980 recipient of the Omar Watson Award for Drawing Well, In Spite of Our Best Efforts.
I was the Worst-Dressed Student for 1978, 1979, AND 1980. My fashion consisted largely of flannel shirts over a T-shirt and jeans. Every single day. Wearing waffle stompers. Into my mid twenties.
I passed out walking from the football field to the girls' locker room due to overexertion.
I played the flute and bari saxophone in band. (Allow me to digress for a moment to make a confession: I once bumped into Mr. Ross, our very short and easily flustered band teacher, hitting him fully in the face with my rack, I mean, my breastesses, and spent the first week of 11th grade blushing like a 9th grader every time I saw him after that. And later that same year, Mr. Ross drove me home from school in the rain so that I wouldn't have to carry my big honkin' bari sax up the road a mile, I got my coat hooked into the tailgate of his truck and he dragged me nearly to the end of the trailer park and certain death before he heard my screams. I spent the next week afterward glaring at him like a petulant 9th grader every time I saw him. And then there was that special time when Mr. Ross sent me to the girls' locker room to get the flag team, so without knocking on the door, first, I barged into a locker room full of naked football players baring schlong and then much shrinkage after I loudly announced that I was there to get the flag team, only to surprise the naked boymen in whose woody midst I was, and as I turned around to flee, I ran into the exceedingly short and very flustered Mr. Ross with my breastesses, who came to inquire why it was taking so very, very long, Mr. Ross, that is, and not my breastesses, after which I could no longer look at him without laughing outright. For more than a week.) I often wonder about him. I hope he's okay. Well now, glad to have gotten that off my chest.
Here are some reasons I look forward to going to my class reunion:
I don't have to cringe anymore for not accomplishing anything colossal with my life.
I don't have to talk about where I went to college. Or my major, or my GPA. It should suffice that I went to college. Once. For about a week.
I can talk about my children's colleges, their GPAs and majors and other vicarious accomplishments.
I have a really good reason for putting on weight. I blame others.
I can boast that I haven't killed anyone. Accidentally, anyways. Yet.
The potential for a really good recipe swap is why I am really going.
And finally, preemptively self-imposing some fairness doctrine upon this blog, because Tonya Greipenweiner, lonely voice of the unhinged isn't here, Aisha and Nawal have opined on something or other, and will be frequent opiners in the future: