What the Blog is going on?

This kills me. I am just surfing, see what everyone else is doing. Next blog. Click. Next blog. Click. It’s fun. It kills time. And it beats mopping.

At first, I was merely intrigued by the number of blogs dedicated to Jessica Simpson. Then perplexed. Then downright outraged. So I clicked on one of them just to see what was being said about this vapid vixen (alliteration* is so much cooler than puns). Anyway, much to my chagrin, I was treated with a cornucopia of porn links!

Now, found porn is one of the coolest things ever. I still look in sock drawers whenever I visit someone’s house on the off chance that I might get a glance at Candy Loving or Barbi Benton au naturale.

At least, I thought, this website isn’t actually about Jessica Simpson.

Back to what really kills me. Throughout this hour or so of surfing there was a googleplex of these Jessica Simpson psuedoblogs. There were no other stars mentioned, named or linked to blowjobs in any other way. What is so puzzling is that Ms. Simpson would merit such a glorious honor and that porndom would hold her in such high regard.

If anyone has Jenna Jameson’s home number, please send it to me. I would like to solicit her thoughts on the matter.


And by the way, it is really annoying when you remove that next blog button. Or worse, when you put an ad over it so that I can’t navigate past your review of Lords of Dogtown. (“Best Movie ever!”) puhleeeeeeeeze.

*not to be confused with assonance which is simply annoying

Okay. Lesson learned. Do not put dinner on the stove and then start surfing the internet for porn. 

She should have gone with abducted by aliens. That way, it could have been classified as a parental kidnapping. Seriously, look at those eyes. Does the women ever blink? The only other people I have seen with that empty headed stare are all correspondents on the PTL club. 

Excentric?  

Some people are actually afraid of, or even HATE, clowns. Go figure. Spiders, I can see, sort of. Heights, water, confined spaces, obviously. Hell, I even understand the fear of the number 13 (if you look at it sideways, it looks like a penis and scrotum a la Picasso --take that Freud!). But clowns? Who doesn't love a good clown? Abby here, Dr. Ducky Doolittle (aka Knockers the Clown) will actually come and sit on your birthday cake with her naked tushy. C'mon!

It sticks to things. 

Because of the clowns, dammit! For whatever reason, this is the only cereal that my paternal grandparents ever kept in the house for us to eat in the morning. Non-Sunday mornings, that is. On Sunday mornings we would have one of two choices: Oatmeal or Silver Dollar Pancakes. No matter which, the meal was prepared by my grandfather. At the time, odd as it seems, all meals--important ones, that is, were prepared by the males in the family. Oatmeal was never boring at Grandpa John's house. Real butter, real cream, real honey, real love. He never served the gruel-like mush of Spanky and Alfalfa mythos.

"Don't drink the milk..."
"Why?...."

"Because it's spoilt...."

One of our favorite "Our Gang" episodes.....Not too much unlike the Electric Company's plumber who never gets the job done due to an ugly mishap with a talking avian.

Silver dollar pancakes prepared in an electric skillet. My GOD! One might as well called it deepfried batter. I never thought of it then, but my grandfather put at least a quarter inch of oil in the electric skillet before ever even thinking about adding a teaspoon of buttermilk batter. Like any true pancake afficianado, we watched for broken bubbles vs. whole ones to determine the flipping point. He never burned a set. Amazing as that is, I cannot claim the same. Pass the Mrs. Buttersworth...cheers to you ol' JP.

Why, OH why, does it always come back to cereal? 

Midnight snack. Marinara sauce and really good Italian bread, when it struck me....Peter Graves is really cool. To hell with Mission Impossible. His voice over work and appearance in Airplane! alone makes him a wonderful thespian. And he's from Minnesota too....(that's for Chris).

It's about time I put a klown image in this here thingy.

Did I mention that I was one of THOSE geeks.

speaking of...ah, to hell with it. 

At least I didn't waste my money on duct tape and plastic sheets.

4:20

and everyone but me. Never should have left California. Or college for that matter.
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Go to Hell Rush Limbaugh. Go to Hell Bill O'Reilly. Go to Hell Larry King.

Holy crap. I can't believe this guy is still around. Freshman year. Bong Hits and Ed Anger. That's when life was at its greatest.

Weekly World News

Heard way too many times this week

and simply had to know. Now you know too.

Questions & Answers: At sixes and sevens

Just thinking of Bill Hicks today. Easily, he was the funniest man I ever heard while he was alive. He made me feel less crazy. It isn't his birthday today, or the anniversary of his death. I just needed a laugh and the Flying Saucer Tour CD was close at hand. Thank God.

I was always a Tully's man anyhow. 

Five minutes of pain

Either way, I feel nauseous. How and why some people become famous is way beyond the scope of my comprehension. Worse when there is a whole family of them. Yet, like a car wreck, I am drawn in....

Collected every last loving one of them. Then Mom threw them away, of course.