Four Releases On the State of Mankind

1. I am apparently a person of good dental hygiene for my age (huh?), as I found last September that I had managed not to go to the dentist for a significant period of time and somehow come through without any cavities. If you thought I was a strong writer, screw that… above all, I am a conscientious brusher! And that, my friends is more than I could ever have hoped for. I hereby invite my enemies to lace my oatmeal with a lethal mercury/lead/hemlock mixture, as I have achieved all of which I dreamed.

Nevertheless, there are “threatening areas” which my dentist and his accountant wish to treat tomorrow. So if you see me in the afternoon and ask me how my day is, please forgive me if my response is “Scwumtwuwessunt” followed promptly by an embarrassing episode of drool and an escapist jog to the nearest westwoom. I don’t mean to spit and run, it’s simply who I am.

2. Some time back, I was in awe at a song on an iPod commercial. In the presence of several friends on several occasions, I bitched and moaned at the proprietors of my window into the cyberworld about the fact that they did not publish the name and/or artist of the song they chose to use for their supposed loss-leader.

I found today that they, in fact, do publish this. You can look up all of the iPod ads on iTunes (the “I” stands for “more better”). You have to look under “videos.” Ahh, yes. When looking for music, I should seek visual means to that end (bastards). Thank you, may I have another?

In an unfortunately accurate bit of karma, the name of the song I had been seeking was “Jerk It Out” by Caesars. That is not funny.

I said, “Not funny.”

3. (Stream of consciousness rant) Many of you know of my early allegiance to the low-carb way of thinking about food… or shall I say “lifestyle.” No, I shan’t. That makes not eating bread sound gay… and in spite of my less-or-more involuntary celibacy, I will not give in to the dark side.

Wait. If I do give in, will you promise to protect french fries? Make sure that they continue to exist? I would definitely become gay if you could guarantee, and I by God mean guarantee, that french fries (and Jack Daniel’s) will continue to exist. Deal?!

Excellent! Everyone come over for “La Cage aux Folles” and Woodpecker Cider tomorrow. This is going to be so hot. And I mean SO HOT!!!!

(Forward six months. Brett is recovering from a failed relationship with a bartender at Boneshakers and a fierce addiction to the Oxygen channel. He learns, after a long night of cosmopolitans, that the U.S. Capitol commissary has changed the name of French Fries to “Freedom Fries” and that Jack Daniel’s has lowered it’s proof.)

[Enter Brett, in low cut pink dress with bare midriff, Britney-esque skirt, and red hair that would make Nicole Kidman sleep with Andy Dick.] “NNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!”

And SCENE (with apologies to George Lucas and all of the people who made Darth Vader the man, er legless robot thingy, he is today).

Long story short, I want a grilled cheese sandwich right now… a straight grilled cheese sandwich, damnit.

4. I realize that now, in the Christmas season, that we are all enjoying time with our families. And I can understand how that might make it difficult to blog.

However, I am very disappointed, and am afraid that you are killing Ol’ Kris Kringle himself by not staying connected with loved ones. So allow me to recite a few lines of my new version of “Silent Night,” which are specifically applied to your mumness of late. Here we go.

A one.

A two.

A one, two, three, (whoops) two, three.

“Silent Night
Monitor light
No one blogs
Dial-up bites

Round young virgins
Don’t know how to type
Nor do Trina
Or Will or Mike

Non-bloggers go to hell
No grilled cheese at Taco Bell.”

Merry Christmas y’all. I hope Santy is good to you. G’night!!!!!