OCTOPI, the number of the Beast
Now, divide by zero and join in a rousing chorus of HAIL CTHULHU!
On Tumblr, this post has been reblogged 1607 times. Let’s see how WordPress.com does in comparison. My bet? Less than 1% as many; in fact, my bet is zero reblogs.
They did things like Heeding in those days.
I should have listened!
Joel is no mystery man (raincoaster)
Gary Oldman, man of a thousand grooming choices (Lolebrity)
Nigella Lawson and John Cusack would be a dream couple(Manolofood)
Norman Mailer and a poodle (Ayyyy)
Ewww, Simon Cowell arms! (AgentBedhead)
Whut up, Don Draper? (BusyBeeBlogger)
Mariah, that’s not very flattering to your husband (CeleBitchy)
Two and a Half Times as much Idiocy (CelebDirtyLaundry)
The Addams Family paints the town black (CityRag)
Who’s Sari Now? (CojoStyle)
The 90′s are back and your local arena’s got ‘em! (DailyStab)
Now THAT is a funny caption (DListed)
Yeah, but do they KEEP it down? (GirlsTalkinSmack)
Harry Hughini? (HaveUHeard)
Kiefer is coming! Kiefer is coming! (INeedMyFix)
The bodyguard shakedown breakdown (PoorBritney)
We ALL feel that way, honey (SeriouslyOMG)
It hasn't begun till the unicorn sings
So it’s a little later than Wednesday this week; still, you can always use a good unicorn chaser, can you not? And what could be perkier, happier, or more charming than the B-52’s singing the theme song of every blogger I know, Deadbeat Club?
I once had a Facebook group called that, for the purpose of hosting FNFF, short for Friday Night Fuck Fest, but consisting of people who generally have nothing better to do on a Friday night than sit at the computer, drinking, and commenting on other people’s websites. Which actually isn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night, if you have half a bottle of something decent, a good connection, and time on your hands. Now that I don’t have an office, even a home office, anymore, those days are behind me. I swear, I’m paying so damn much for inferior coffee every damn day that I might as well just rent an office; it’d be cheaper.
Hence this choice of Unicorn Chaser.
It should also be noted that, after several years’ quest, I finally have that leopard coat. I do not, however, have the huge ’60’s eyes, but it’s on my wish list for the next life.
Deadbeat Club
I was good, I could talk
A mile a minute,
On this caffeine buzz I was on
We were really hummin’
We would talk every day for hours
We belong to the deadbeat club
Anyway we can,
We’re gonna find something
We’ll dance in the garden
In torn sheets in the rain
We’re the deadbeat club
We’re the deadbeat club
Going down to Allen’s for
A twenty-five cent beer
And the jukebox playing real loud,
“Ninety-six tears”
We’re wild girls walkin’ down the street
Wild girls and boys going out for a big time
Let’s go crash that party down
In Normaltown tonight
Then we’ll go skinny-dippin’
In the moonlight
We’re wild girls walkin’ down the street
Wild girls and boys going out for a big time
Anyway we can
We’re gonna find something
We’ll dance in the garden
In torn sheets in the rain
Chorus
Oh no! Here they come
The members of the deadbeat club
John Cusack will rt anything!
I was gonna let it go. Gosh, you know raincoaster by now: never one to make a fuss over a celebrity, or drop a name (which reminds me, I owe a blog post to my old sparring partner and blog buddy, Boris Johnson, Mayor of London).
But.
I.
Just.
Can’t.
You know how it is when it’s over; when something that you once counted upon, day in and day out, dries up and crumbles to ashes, then blows away, leaving nothing more than a giant hole in your stats chart?
Google, didn't we once mean something to each other? I'm even using Chrome!
Yeah, like that. So that’s how it’s been chez raincoaster lately, now that Google has dumped me (in an apparently bottomless pit). But I’m not bitter. Not me! No, I’m completely SO over that.
And you know how a situation like this, a dumping followed by a deep depression (just LOOK at it! like I spend hours a day doing…but I’m OVER it, I’m telling you!) can often lead to what is known as a rebound relationship? Well, I’ve got one, and it’s even better than Google and its millions of mindless robots. It’s got a mind of its own (to say the least, and I’ve said a great deal more on the subject from time to time).
Well, I’ve found my rebound: John Fucking Cusack. Suck it, Google. Even The Sister dm’d her congratulations; it’s like I got engaged or something!
That’s right. The Artist Formerly Known as Shockozulu, John Cusack, who is being followed by 262,116 people, is Following 85 people.
One of them is me.
Then he rt’d my post about Paul Newman three times and this happened.
The Cusack Effect
It’s Wednesday. Is it ever Wednesday. It’s that Wednesday, in fact, when you’re invited to a fabulous cocktail and catering showcase in a swanky hotel and you get there and the staff says Sorry, it’s not in this hotel, it’s in that hotel, and you go to that hotel and wander around, peeping in the ballrooms and concluding (on very little evidence, it must be admitted, except the Board of Trade cards left on one of the tables) that it looks like no balls were had that day, not even those of the cute bellboy, because you were running a bit late and besides, still weren’t entirely convinced you was in the right hotel, and when you ask the staff they say you were worried for good reason because the event is not, in fact, in that hotel, but in still a third one if it’s anywhere, and now you’ve got a 15-minute walk ahead of you in your flowered sandals which are very pretty but definitely more akin to a cheese wire between your toes than one is or should ever become used to, and so you go halfway to the third hotel, decide you’re hungry and your feet hurt, and stop for a #14 with beef and a diet coke.
THAT Wednesday.
That Wednesday when your computer scan renders the system so unstable that you conclude that it, itself, is a threat, and you delete it.
That Wednesday when you’re 48 hours behind on something that isn’t even due yet and you’re already two days late with it.
That Wednesday when the office is full of people having meetings at the back and guys doing construction at the front, and, very definitely, the smell of dairy products gone bad ages ago, perhaps when Elvis was last in the building, and now lying, forgotten, in a dark corner where they are becoming progressively more expensive cheese products by the day.
That Wednesday when, if you open the door to get some fresh air, the crackies chat you up.
That Wednesday when you think THIS would be a good post.
That Wednesday when you fantasize about winning the lottery and opening this:
The Progress Bar, loading in progress. I'll take the seat closest the whiskey
Ahhhh, that’s more like it. And so, in the name of progress, we present my inaugural link roundup at the ol’ raincoaster blog, a new tradition which is destined to continue at least until Google has seen the error of its ways and reversed The Soundtrack for Losers Situation. Yes, this is what I get paid for, three times a week.
Mean Disney Girls just a bunch of drama queens (raincoaster)
The Beatles, Captured! (Lolebrity)
Rihanna is disoriented, hideous (Ayyyy)
Reznorvision coming soon to your screens? (AgentBedhead)
The Face of Kotex! (BusyBeeBlogger)
Some people will do ANYTHING to impress Sandra Bullock’s castoffs (CeleBitchy)
Spot the cyborgs among us! (CelebrityCosmeticSurgery)
Violent repeat felon seeks custodianship of Lindsay Lohan (CelebDirtyLaundry)
Michael Bolton, it is FAR too late for respect! (CelebritySmack)
Gaga a Go-Go (CityRag)
Naomi Campbell’s feet are HUGE (CojoStyle)
Yes, everyone but me DOES have a book deal (DailyStab)
Macaroni Rascals (DListed)
A foursome isn’t just for golfing and bridge? (EvilBeet)
Sly, stylin’ (GabbyBabble)
Brigitte Nielson is looking younger (GoFugYourself)
Get your Bieber Babies! (HaveUHeard)
Michael Bolton is the Rodney Dangerfield of show pony has-beens (INeedMyFix)
Catching up with Bristol Palin’s favorite show (IBBB)
Oh holy Jeebus, even Hilary Duff has a book deal (JustJared)
This will be some actress’s lowest career point (MovieLine)
Baby Buble (PerezHilton)
B from the block (PinkIsTheNewBlog)
Backney! (PoorBritney)
The Mysteries of Minnelli (PopBytes)
Jon’s got a Ham in his pants (SeriouslyOMG)
And special bonus links:
What we have here is a failure to communicate: Comments vs no comments; the eternal argument
Bukowski: the worst hangover: (warning, this is NSF Peace of Mind)
Harry Potter and the Homework of Vengeance: A GOOD story about spammers
And I’m selling this link service, so if you run a gossip blog, jump on this bandwagon now by leaving me a comment. When I have five subscribing blogs, the price will go up. That’s what you call high-pressure tactics. I read it on JohnChow.com. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with an imaginary bartender.
raincoaster 