No, it’s a FACT. Now that you truly understand the reason for war, it’s time to put the nail in the coffin of your optimism with today’s roundup of pointless celebrity gossip.
This post will not include cats. Everyone knows cats aren’t emo.
Icelandic Ponies are emo. You would be too, if an outbreak of horse herpes had sent a flock of Utah Beauty Queens off their regular mounts and onto you. You would also, presumably, be rather tired, if very relaxed.
Look, they’ve even got the hair:
It is potentially possible that things that start with a P are all emo. Of course, starting off with a Pee always makes me less moody and irritable…
We’ll try not to be smug about this.
We will fail.
Today we got a link and some actually decent traffic because a post from the ol’ raincoaster blog was excerpted at the International Journal of Baudrillard Studies, bringing to four the number of universities which have used this blog in either their academic publications or their course materials.
This almost makes up for a recent, and high-profile, local blogging conference at whose keynote someone else was publicly thanked, at length, for the job that I did. No, really, that was me. On the other hand, I guess this makes me the Executive Director of W2 by default; I sure hope the salary is good!
But I’m SO over that!
In bonus good news news: our Iron Maiden/Bollywood mashup unicorn chaser is going the teensiest bit viral, and if you’ve clicked Play you know why. And speaking of music, we know the music on our WWII Dogfights in Colour YouTube video is intolerable, but we got paid $95 to put it on and if you want it off, make us a better offer.
We note further that the appalling music hasn’t stopped it from getting over one million hits. Let’s give it a few more, eh?
Yes, it’s that very special time on the blog: the time when we dump all our celebrity links for the day because we are too lazy/stressed/drunk/busy to do a real, proper 250 words for you. So hold your nose and swallow like a good little media consumer! YAY CELEBUTARDS!
Speaking of which, here’s an adorkable little video of children reacting to Rebecca Black‘s immortal musical meisterwerk, Friday.
Okay so judging by the computer clock I have 12.5 minutes to finish this post and get it up, which may give you a hint why most of my posts seem rather … thin … lately. I have to jam them all up before the web cafe closes or walk several miles in the rain to get to the nearest 24 hour cafe and then pay another $2 for lousy coffee or $5 in the case of the nearest cafe, which has a two-drink minimum and NO I AM NOT EVEN JOKING so is it any wonder I’m having an emo breakdown? It’s only Monday by a few minutes and I’m already three days behind in posts.
So let me tell you about the time I had an emo meltdown on my one and only celebrity follower. Well, I have some celebrity journalists following me, thank god, because validation from writers better than one’s self is always welcome, but I have only one Actual Movie Star Follower, and that’s John Cusack. I’d tell you about him, but I don’t have time and you DO have google, so knock yourselves out.
It happened after I’d stayed up too long liveblogging Japan (for which I did get on the front page of Google for “Japanese Earthquake” for a time at least; I do think I did a good job, but GOD who can blog that for long without going ever so slightly insane, eh? I ask yez) two nights in a row and gotten an email from a friend in Hawaii mentioning the two quakes he’d had while he was replying to my email of a few minutes ago. Oh, swell.
Then I heard about the reactors.
That’s about when I DM’d my one and only Genuine Celebrity Follower, a man I know through conversations of about 420 characters total. And nothing is to be deduced from that purely coincidental number.
And what did I say to this near-stranger? “Do you ever have one of those days when you think the end of the world is actually here already?”
So, yeah, I’m apparently That Fan. Mother would be so proud.
On that note, here are your emo links for an early Monday morning. I should drink more, at least I’m a happy drunk.