Friday, September 29, 2006

Ever Fallen In Love With Someone...

...only to have them go on a breakfast show and do this? Of course you have. We all have.

Speaking of getting kicked in the nuts, I'm strongly recommending Jackass Number Two for the weekend. Make sure you've see Jackass Number One though or you'll be completely lost.

The Clintoning: Aftermath

Okay, okay - everyone's mad as hell and not going to take it anymore, check. But Keith c'mon: "a monkey posing as a newscaster"? You know damn well Fox News only uses retired circus chimps. What a delightful road to nowhere we're on.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Bacon On A Bun

A recent trip with S to a county fair yielded two shocking discoveries. One: bacon on a bun continues to be an autumnal favourite of flavour-impaired small town stumps. Two: S's dispassionate curiosity and aberrant colon allow him to explore territory most sensible and well-advised empiricists would fear to... not... bother to go. Ever. I still have trouble looking at this. For the love of rectum S, why?

Actionable Items: Reality TV Audition

Oh I admit it. The thought has crossed has my mind. En/dis couraging words from the front: BGA's hi-larious complicity in yet another dopey model search and F's even funnier admission of a fake audition for Canadian Idol ("making it through" to third round judging no less). Okay, okay - the fix is in. So why do it? Hey, why do anything? I guess we'll see. As it stands, we've got tedium and my love of stereotypes versus apathy or possibly a few lingering threads of self-respect. Yeah, just kidding. Stay tuned.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

The Clintoning

This past weekend's sudden eruption of Mount St Bubba got me to thinking. That enervating assault on Wallace, that rebuking tone, it put everything into perspective. Things just ain't what they used to be. The worm is turning folks - no more mister nice Dem. (Oh and children, the times they are a-becoming quite different: Urban Dictionary, j'accuse yo.)

Oh right. Ahem, cue fanfare: I hence give you the pronunciatory speakulation that is my Home Port of Panic. If you're not careful it may soon become yours too.