Well, I’ve never been one to dip a toe in when I could plunge over the cliff taking an entire bus with me instead.

So…Facebook.

MistressCowfish suggested I start a group, because after Friending people, Grouping is teh hawtness on Facebook, which sounds to my elderly ears like a rave gotten completely out of control, but whatever.

I have Grouped.

If you’re on Facebook, you’ll find me at The Deadbeat Club (cue Metro‘s bitter humour…).

Inspired by glorious deadbeats throughout history such as the authors of Frugal Indulgents, Dorothy Parker, Oscar Wilde, Quentin Crisp, Vincent Van Gogh, and that guy … you know … that guy whose name I can’t remember, who destroyed his priceless collections and then killed himself rather than let the collection fall into Ceasar’s hands. See, if Boris would join the group he could tell us who that was.

Yes, surely in a Deadbeat Club there’s some room for rich, sore losers. Especially if they’re buying.

Ladies, Gentlemen, and the Undecided, please raise your glasses, mugs, or sippy cups to our anthem:

The Deadbeat Club by The B 52’s

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