I've been down for the count for the last few days with some sort of bug. I don't think it's the Minnesotan Swine Flu or the Chinese Chicken Flu or anything with a ready-made vaccination and health care debate talking points attached, but it is almost certainly an animal-transported virus of foreign origin. Maybe a Peruvian Nutria Infection or the Brazilian Wax Flu, or something equally debilitating.
Or it could just be a cold. In any case, I will no doubt be dead by sundown.
In the meantime, I've been filling my TheraFlu and NyQuil-fueled haze with all manner of facsinating endeavor. I read six back issues of the La Times Travel sections and planned an imaginary trip to Germany for next month. I emptied my spam folder of 167 emails entreating 'Gloria' to get back in touch with 'Brian', 'William' and 'Mrs Charles Lowenhart'. I played with my Blogger template and lost my favorite 'Simpsonized' profile pic. I spent a half a day attending a virtual pagan ceremony with some passing rogues and bards, tracked a couple of vampires to their lair (only to run in panicked fear when the fight turned ugly) and joined a motley crew of Rangers attempting to guard it's borders against...well, I'm not sure what, exactly, to be honest. But our weapons are totally cool! And I finally signed up for Twitter.
I have absolutely nothing to say on Twitter, just as I have nothing to say on FaceBook, Wordpress or here, for that matter. And I know very few people who subscribe, or admit to subscribing to the site. But when I heard that Paris Hilton and Demi Moore were bitchslapping each other over the relative sluttiness of Moore's 15 year-old daughter's attire, I knew I had to be in on that conversation. Which is frankly hilarious.
I signed up, tossed out a single tweet (I forgot to include the obigatory exclamation point!) and started following anyone who showed up on the first list that appeared. I chose on the basis of those whom I thought would amuse, intentionally or otherwise ~ Wil Wheaton, Stephen Fry, Eddie Izzard among the former; Demi Moore, of course, who is 'Feeling a deep need to clean my closets out!' among the latter. Heidi Montag, whose bio reads 'I love Jesus!' next to a picture of herself onstage in some sort of gold see-through underwear is 'Getting ready for church!' Kirstie Alley cannot shut up about, well, anything: Airports: Hello Denver.. Only passing through.. Prettiest airport ive ever seen. Boyfriends: Jonny Boy didnt dump me... That made me happy... Lol Haters: Wow.. The idiots are out in full force today.... Will have to name them so that u can bop them twittet style..
It is endless, pointless and just the thing to penetrate a fever-induced haze. I may never leave the house again. Oh, I know I'll get bored with it soon ~ okay, I'm already a little bored with it: Heidi Montag cant wait to talk to you all on#SayNow at 310-220-0244 later today! (Pimping? On Twitter? How dare you!!??) ~ but in the meantime I have learned two things.
One) That Paris Hilton, beautiful, vacuous, inexcusable bimbo that she is, is living a truly, miraculously, fabulous life: Oct 23 :The U2 Concert was incredible!!! Bono rocks! Such a talent, inspiration and total Rock Star! Love him! Oct 24: We just had lunch with Pete Rose, the baseball legend. He's such a nice guy and such a character. Later Oct 24: Had such an amazing day today! Back at The Hard Rock Hotel, going to take a lil disco nap before the night starts :) To her credit, she seems to be enjoying this incredible life, even if not entirely understanding it.
Two) I do not need to feel bad about never having anything to say. As Mark Twain so aptly put it, "It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt."
Now there's a guy who would have given good Tweet.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
I lost my Simpson-me profile toon. I cannot for the life of me remember what I named it and Vista, contrarian evil that it is, will simply not help me find it. Which is why I never play at changing things in here. Change is bad. Me no likey change.
D'oh, oh d'oh is me.
D'oh, oh d'oh is me.