March 16th, 2006


Welcome to the Dark Side of My Cerebral Cortex

Since this is the first entry in my fabulous new blog I figured I'd outline what I hope to accomplish with it - which is pretty much nothing more than to provide another avenue for procrastinating. Procrastinating what, you might ask? Anything. Anything at all.

In addition to said procrastinating, I will also use this space to celebtrate all things ridiculous because I have a deep love and profound respect for, well, all things ridiculous. Hence my love of Dr. Seuss, Beavis & Butt-head, onomatopoeias, the word "onomatopoeia," newts (see picture), my own road rage, double decker buses, cats, Jaws: The Revenge - This Time It's Personal, dubbing anything that happens a second time "The Revenge - This Time It's Personal," baby corn, yoga, Yoda, the Swedes, cumquats, penguins, crayon sharpeners, Looney Tunes, Sumo wrestling, the 80s, my trebuche building father, my strainer-mailing mother (long story), children from the ages of 1-10, duck-billed platypi (is that the plural form of platypus?), nice old people, staying up until 4 in the morning, and that little thing that hangs down in the back of your throat between your tonsils that Jerry always used as a punching-bag whenever he was in Tom's mouth (in Tom & Jerry cartoons, which, except for said occurrence, weren't quite ridiculous enough to make my list).

I will also probably use this space to rant about all things inane. Yes, it can be a fine and very subjective line between the ridiculous and the inane (for example, the Spice Girls are ridiculous, the Spice Girls' solo careers are inane). The inane often possess some elements of ridiculousness, but it is ridiculousness put to sinister purpose, as deemed by me. The end result is that instead of earning my deep love and profound respect, all things inane should be wiped from the face of the planet quickly and definitively. Examples of the inane include (but are not limited to): reuseable icecubes (don't get me started), mean old people, children from the ages of 11-18, George Bush II (who also falls under the category of "mean old people"), those automatic doors at target that are designated as "entrances" (I mean, I understand automated "exits" because you have your hands full, but at what point did opening a door on the way in become too hard to do manually?), other people's road rage, evil Swedes, and getting up before noon.

So there you have it. Time for a Pop-Tart (neither ridiculous nor inane, just oh so very tasty)!
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