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The article preview: Los Angeles (E! Online) – Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:”Table Normal”; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:”"; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:”Times New Roman”; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;}
The article subject: Chris Kattan’s wedding to a model.
I am not the only one confused, I see.
Sometimes it’s hard to say
Even one thing true
When all eyes have turned aside
They used to talk to you
And people on the streets seem to disapprove
So you keep moving away
And forget what you wanted to say
Little bird
Little bird
Brush your gray wings on my head
Say what you said
Say it again
They tell me I’m crazy
But you told me
I’m golden
Sometimes it’s hard to tell the truth from the lies
Nobody knows what’s in the hold of your minds
We are all buildings and people inside
Never know who walks through the door
Is it someone that you’ve met before
Little bird
Little bird
Brush your gray wings on my head
Say what you said
Say it again
They tell me I’m crazy
But you told me
I’m golden
Little bird
I know what I know
A wind in the trees and a road
That goes winding under
From here I see rain, I hear thunder
Somewhere there’s sun
And you don’t need a reason
Sometimes it’s hard to find a way to keep on
Quiet weekends, holidays
You come undone
Open your window and look upon
All the kinds of alive you can be
Be still, be light, believe me
Little bird
Little bird
Brush your gray wings on my head
Say what you said
Say it again
They tell me I’m crazy
But you told me
I’m golden
I’m golden
- The Weepies
So this is my new “writing space,” as I learned to call it in a class a while ago. I felt weird hijacking the group blog my partners and I established for the class, so I decided to start another one. I’m pleased with it so far; it still has that new blog smell. Delicious.
First things first: I imported everything that I wrote from the old blog (Three Non Blondes and One Blonde) because I am that narcissistic, and it made this place feel a little less empty. All the dates have been left intact, so they go back to Fall 2007 even though this blog was started Summer 2008. Not a big deal, just thought I would explain.
Second things in due course: The design theme of this blog is technically “Tarski” by Ben Eastaugh and Chris Sternal-Johnson, but I stole the header from a different WordPress theme called “Benevolence” by Theron Parlin. I wanted to use his theme originally, but it didn’t have the space for an “About this blog” tagline, which I got really fixated on, so I yoinked the grassy top bit and uploaded it into the customizable “Tarski” header. It’s very possible that this breaches some sort of Webiquette, so if it does, I’m sorry, but it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission, which is the only useful life tool the Jesuits ever gave me. And I gave you credit, so shush.
Third things last: because good things come in threes. And also bad things. And I do my best, because I was raised on the five-paragraph essay, which by definition required that one make three points in order to have the requisite five, so I got really good at coming up with some lame fact or point of view that was only tenuously connected to whatever crap argument I was trying to make, and sneaking it into the middle before ending with a whizbang last point and conclusion. (<— That was three sentences, actually, even though one was really long. Still counts. Goodnight!)
A conversation my brother and I had while watching The Pagemaster on a Friday night:
Him: Why do libraries always have lions out front?
Me: Maybe because they’re actually lion-braries.
Him: Or because they have cat-egories!
[Pause]
Him: Because they use the Dewey deci-bird system!
Me: That one sucked.
Him: Yeah.
[Pause]
Me: There’s no paw-city of knowledge!
Him: Nice.
Him: Oh! Because they have tails!
Me: How was that not the first thing we thought of?
In retrospect, it occurs to me that my last entry might show up on a Google search for words such as “nude,” “panties,” “Anna Kournikova,” or “damp,” attracting all sorts of perverts and reprobates. I suppose this is the chance one takes when one is an attention whore, though.
…Aw, man, I probably just did it again.
I haven’t been here in a while, so I logged in intending to write something strong yet poignant, as I often imagine myself doing at 2:00 in the morning. The little dashboard updater thing told me I had 11 queued spam comments, though, so I went there first and, boy howdy, am I glad I did.
I should maybe go back a little and say that I have a great fondness for spam. I’m really not bothered by finding it breeding in my inbox (ya just read everything you want to read and then mark everything to be deleted all at once; not so taxing on one’s sanity, but anyway), and one of my favorite sites (Pajiba) is frequently attacked by what the commenters called spambots because of the ‘bots ability to slyly tailor their posts to the article while still telling us about how we can meet rich guys looking for love (and Asian brides who know how to keep shtum). There’s something of a cult of spambot arising over there, with prophecies to be fulfilled in a Terminator-style holocaust. Sooner, rather than later, if we’re at all accurate.
Anyway. I checked out what the little spammers had sent this way and I was rather delighted. There’s sometimes a bizarre cleverness to the messages; it can read like found poetry, albeit on the so-weird-it’s-great end of the spectrum. A lot of it is about credit scores or sex. I often associate the two myself; just another reason to love it. So here’s what I was gifted (rearranging mine):
It felt sleeveless
to relubricate
my toungues intently to her boxes
and know her
socially
freakier
elegantly against my manhood,
which ached as if
it would surreptitiously
stop.
End of invader 1)haved myyyyyyyy
and I could woo
my anna kournikova
nude videos
closing undies again.
I was the intense to jubilant
my boredom and gesetzt
my campfire
in hers, she was the sarcastic
to damp my hips.
Erotic, yes? Excuse me while I check my credit rating…
