Emails asking who the hell is Ann Margaret and why is she in baked beans can only mean I'm old. I'm AARP eligible this August, which makes this blegging thing even more roobishly pathetic, yes?
I got three emails this week asking me to exchange links to their blegs, and I'm flattered, !ThAnKs! didn't you check Technorati or BlogRocket or any of the stat services to check my lameness? I wrote this before, I'm too old and lazy to go find it, but I will be younger and hipper than blegs about the time I'm eligible for AARP benefits.
I'm gonna monkey around w/blegrells since I use them as bookmarks and it'd be easier if they were arranged differently, so there. Some of you who read and honor back are gonna get moved to Daily - or should it be Me and Mine, yo? - and people who I no longer follow (and visa versa) are gonna go away (with sincere best wishes), and what to do with all the dessicated but respected corpses of favorite blegs past? Should I build a cemetary, as to knock on their tombstones now and then?
!hEh! I'm mildly curious to see if itchtinker trumps faux rejection of lamey roobitude.
What ancient form of execution would you LEAST prefer?
Buried alive, crucifixion, flayed alive, scourged to death, itchtinker, stung/bitten to death by insects, slow disembowelment, faux rejection of lamey roobitude, roasted on a grill, dragged from chariot, torn apart by wild animals, autoblogography, rolled downhill in a spiked barrel, death of a thousand cuts.
For him? Let me prove I'm old: Ooh! Ooh! Mr Kot-tair!
- Murder, not terrorism.
- About that T word.
- 1008 Terrorist Attacks in which Gordon Brown was an arms supplier.
- Death of the Republic, Part Etc.
- Asshole v Assclown: which is which?
- Because she's not a liberal.
- There's a cruel fascination watching Kathleen Parker disavow the embarrassing clowns in the bowels of her movement.
- Is it my imagination or is Firefox suddenly shittier?
- Seen this morning at Safeway, so it must be true:
- I feel like writing but don't have anything to say. (Best pop song you'll hear today is there, yo.)
- My commute just got shittier.
- Hospital in Clarksburg?
- UPDATE! I'm so lucky, I grew up half a mile from the winner (WHICH IS IN GAITHERSBLEG, NOT THE DERWOOD SECTION OF ROCKVILLE, DUMBFUCKS!) and the second, a half mile from where I live now, I go through at least once a day. !uN!wOOt!
- Will make a fart's difference.
- UPDATE! Poolesville man releases poisonous snake that bit him.
- End of an era comix.
- Silliman is a remarkably generous aggregator of important links.
- A defense of JAMC, who are not one of 20 bands on my five band desert island stupid-ass game list, though I'm not a hater.
- New Iggy Pop anyone? It's party time and he's got the slime. (And Iggy reads Michel Houellebecq?)
- It's KEXP's summer drive, so throw them so love. KEXP is utterly unlistenable during the drive, especially when John and Cheryl are slap and tickling, so after you donate, go here, chose Wednesday May 27, type in 1:00 AM, and listen to five hours of DJ El Toro, the best DJ they've got* (and I don't say this just because I'm positive he and I were at 930 for same shows in the 80s). *Stevie too, who, last time we emailed, was hoping to make it to 232 for the Seattle game.
- Sad news: Exene Cervenka has MS.
Updates later. Or not.
Six of Ox Is
O, no iron, no Rio, no
Red rum murder:
in moon: no omni
derision; no I sired
but no repaid diaper on tub.
O grab me, ala embargo
Re-Wop me, empower
sinus and DNA sun is
fine, drags as garden if
sad as samara, ruff of fur, a ram; as sad as
Warsaw was raw.