You might have thought that while I was away I would have taken some opportunities to finish long not-finished web-site-things without any imaginary immediate deadlines or maybe even get something important done.

Well that’s what I thought. Perhaps you know me better than I do.

Which is not to say I had a particularly rollicking time not getting anything done, either. I have forgotten how to rollick.

When I hear swimsuit legally-more-respectable-than-straight-up-pornography models interviewed needlessly on television or any other applicable medium in which their voices are recorded, they occasionally comment upon how, ha ha, no, that picture there, the swim-flesh-obscurement triangles no one would ever swim while sort-of wearing were not fabric but in fact painted directly to the skin!
And so I wonder why, if we’re painting the things into existence, should we do it in the same stupid configuration as before? Instead of little impractical triangles fastened by string, how about large round supper dishes? If we must remain nautically themed, I do suggest an old-timey sea diving out-fit (unless Scooby Doo is scheduled to appear, in which case that might not be the best choice). Why not paint the lady a big hat with fruit on it? Why not have swirly patterns branching off from the woman’s spine? Why not give her scales? Why not paint the entire human into the picture and not even hire one? Why not paint a volcano or a crystal jungle or a pianoforte made entirely of porcupines instead?

Good point! Me not need know! Me just like boobs ‘n beer!
It is worth noting that though this ad is blamed on 1990, I remember the slogan quite well despite being seven years old for most of that year and in no condition to be consuming the product. Also, surprisingly, this particular ad itself is blatantly non-misogynistic and I’m sure the Budweiser legacy department appreciates me finally placing it into such a context.

Not because it’s ignorant or annoying, I hope. What then permits being memorable in advertising? An annoying catch-phrase? An annoying jingle-tune? An annoying licensed+edited song by someone famous? Annoying pandery imagery? An annoying smart-arp mascot? I think we need new words so that we can more easily differentiate between ought to be remembered, able to be remembered and that for which nothing less than a lobotomy will ever get you restful sleep again.

Sure, I’d love for your giant pill to puke powder onto my pelvis. What took you so long?
Also, there are two “funny” yupetube videos of dorks recording themselves watching this ad, and neither comments on the fact that an enormous Dr. Mario capsule is fantasizing about vomiting cocaine onto their glowing crotchal regions. I mean first of all, that’s a terrible waste of money right there. You spent all those greater american dollars getting the stuff just to smear it on your mystery spot? Even if it’s ground up tiger horn China’s foremost black-market charlatan sorcerers agree you don’t use it that way. You could smear anything there and get pretty much the same effect. Marketers need to learn to properly represent their product.

If Lipozene can help me become a creepily drawn robot fighting robot machine, it should be evident from the simulation.

But I was in the midst of another digression. I thought upon a limerick and I thought upon a riddle, I started on a story but I stopped it in the middle.
Over the centuries, rhino horns have been carved into ceremonial cups, as well as buttons, belt buckles, hair pins, and paperweights.

I understand that The West owes much of its extravagant ways to the production and use of Chinese imports, but I had sort of hoped specialty belt-buckles for scum-buzzles was a uniquely American tradition. Can’t I have civic pride in anything? Also, oh, gee, the wind keeps scattering my paper around. I can’t decide whether I should close the window or kill a giant animal so I can chop off part of its nose.

But what do I know? Ask a reputed expert on the matter. What else aren’t you telling me, Josh?