Monday, December 11, 2006

Crazy little thing called internets (pt. 2)

Some weekends are just too short. I spent this last one alternately on the couch, in the kitchen, at practice, and at a friend's Saturday brunch party, which means too many mimosas too early in the day, which means falling asleep halfwaf through Batman Begins, the indisputable champion of all Batman related cinema (apologies to Tim Burton; no apologies to Val Kilmer, who should never have been in any movies except Tombstone and who should've gotten 18 Oscars for Tombstone now is undoubtedly working at the Macy's on Laurel Canyon Boulevard, unshaven and smelling of gruyere).

Of course, a weekend of voluminous sloth doesn't lead to good stories. So, in the spirit of laziness, cop-outs, and our endless voyage against Taylorism, we're providing you with a series of internet-flavored distractions. Let's roll.

- As mentioned in a rambling post Friday, the glorious lady who designed our shirts has designed a shirt of no relation to Birdmonster but which can be championed at no cost to you. Original post is below this one and voting commences here. Thusly. Post haste. Forthwith. Something or other.

- I always enjoy articles that ceaselessly examine something I never really cared about. Like this one about sports mascots. And here I thought mascots were just around so I could throw batteries at them. You learn something everyday, really.

- What are you doing New Year's Eve? Nothing? Really? That's great! You should come to Bottom of the Hill and share it with us. I promise a staggeringly wonderful coversong, a few newies, and a meticulously constructed combination of merriment, revelry, and jollification. Don't say you weren't warned.

- Recently, a law was passed in the internet kingdom. All collections of links must contain at least one (1) obligatory YouTube clip, preferably of a wrestler on such quantities of steriods that, if he cried, he cheeks would grown biceps. This link fulfills my obligation to the above law.

- Oh no. And a man with short shorts shall lead them. Somewhere.

- When you start feeling sorry for yourself, it's a good idea to remember Roy Cleveland Sullivan. I'd make a joke, but Cecil Adams is funnier than I am.

So, while this post may have in fact seemed to be a half-hearted remedy for early Monday writer's block, I'd like to point out that the above links will cost you probably an hour of productivity which is better than the usual five minutes. How's that for rationalization?


SOL's view said...

Sucks to be Roy Cleveland Sullivan. I'd be avoiding toast and all things toasty.

New Year's Eve sounds particularly good. Shame it doesn't happen at the same time here. Still, I will be thinking of you while I do the Old Fart thing and go to bed at 9pm, only to be awoken at 12.02 am by a bunch of yobbos yelling Happy New Year up and down the street.......

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