“Zak Efron… is he one of the Jonas Brothers?” – an actual thought I had. Is my senility escalating or is that merely a logical conclusion?

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I realize this page update is late, but I had to go to church.

“Church” being the name of my new fancy toilet. Excuse me, did you really think I was done posting pictures taken inside restrooms? This is a task that is bigger than any of us. If we really want to make progress, we should all be doing it. But I’m not about to start making decrees. I never fancied myself a leader.


Now there’s a the work of an authoritative figure. But I think you might be missing some key consonants up there. Possibly punctuation, as well. And how about a “please?” If you please. I’m sure somebody somewhere would be willing to trade you an S for one of your surplus Ls.

Is this necessary? I suggest to you that it is not. That’s right, you read it on bimshwel first: sometimes internet advertising is less than tasteful. I’m sure this has been an eye-opening revelation for you. Also less than tasteful: barf.

If it’s “updating their myspace pages” then I think I can pass. If they were actually my friends and actually wanted me to know something, they would tell me and I would not have to visit my space at all. I realize this material is weak, I have to unload the rest of the myspace stuff now so I don’t fall further behind in hoarding twitter jokes.

I’ve come far enough to know that even if a nonsentient domain hyphen title wanted to be my friend, if it was that one it would be time for me to give up life. But sometimes myspace people change their names for the purpose of some joke and I am well accustomed to not getting other people’s subtle jokes on the internet, so I retained a scant amount of optimism, a full year after every person I’ve ever met switched to Face Book to do the exact same non-things, except they couldn’t embed java applets, fifty youtube videos and translucent animated gif butterflies, which was fine with me.

What kind of a friends invite others to watch cnn over the internet? Meaningless, in-name-only facebook friends. Friends with as much weight behind them as that utterly unnecessary RSVP in there. Why can’t we get a new word for that, or merely spell it “ahresveepy?” That’s all people think of it as. Or we could write out “confirm your attendance,” what we actually mean, what is much more clear than empty, precocious misused abbreviated French. There is no sensible reason to prolong a tradition like this. I won’t even accept that on an invitation to a birth-day party (yes, I got one once). It’s outright offensive regarding some mopey facebook non-party non-gathering to do some thing that I could do just as easily by connecting to any station on my television system without stating my intention to do so. Get out from my business s’il vous plait (and even if vous don’t).

I’m glad Rubert pointed out that the instructions were for sexually. I’m so sick of uninvited, unprovoked notices in my email ezone trying to tell me how to be kind and thought-provoking. You really had me worried for a bit during that dramatic pause! I am similarly sick of e-mail that starts off with “ladies -” or otherwise suggests the possibility of a non-male recipient. Everybody knows only men use the internet, and these are all men in want… naw, in need of anonymous fornicatory counseling from the illiterate. Those noble, nobul illiterate. I want to send them money. Not even in exchange for any goods or services, just to show my support for their cause. Which works out, because as I understand it that is their preferred outcome.



It is one thing to be vulgar, and it is one more thing to take Thumbelina’s name in vain, but my e-mail robots sure are getting abusive. It was nothing less than cruel to exploit my well known interest in arranging a Chernobyl summer getaway to get me to read the message. And then it dared reference 83, the suspected year of the Battle of Mons Graupius, in which 10000 of my irregular Caledonian forebears were slaughtered by more disciplined Roman forces despite greatly outnumbering them. Yeah, it’s still too soon, Lagory Corter! Why can’t you be more like my best buddy ol’ pal Ruby? (I call him Ruby instead of Rubert now because we are chums)



Evidently Chef Boiardi’s head was placed on a label at that position so that poltergeist gauntlets could force it to play a flute much too large for it in an advertisement for the Great American Can Sale at the store “Big Y.” Note that even though the store is called Big Y we don’t actually know. Much less the details regarding the flute debacle. It was a disgrace ones who could help tended not to notice, alas, what with that heathen can of Folger’s Crystals hoisting that flag whose name it has so disparaged, whose traditional moral values it has worked so tirelessly to twist and corrupt:

There’s a reason Folger doesn’t appear on his own cans! The scamp! Don’t you know there are kids who watch that stuff! Do you know what happens when kids drink coffee? They look precocious, that’s what! The best part of waking up is not 5 year olds who can memorize stuff in my cup!
Anyway, back to church. Tonight is the Saint Nunzio and Blessed Associates annual gold chain awareness Ziti Dinner.

Note to event planning committee staff member persons: toilets do not make good dinner tables.

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