What can I say? Between travelling to Ruralopolis again for a mini-working-vacation and writing up the Julian Assange Follies (or should that be the UK Foreign Office Follies?) for the Daily Dot, all overnight, I can’t say I’m well-rested.
Which is too bad, because apparently I have a wedding to plan. See you all on a nice, secluded beach in Ecuador soon. We’re registered at Jane’s Defence Weekly; we want matching night vision goggles. Can’t think what for…
I got this (sadly unembeddable) quiz from Archie, and it is, let me put this plainly, the fucking shizznit. I mean, how did it know that Carl Philip and I were destined for one another (and who wants to break it to the poor boy?)? I’m looking forward to a royal wedding of my own, very soon. You’re all invited, as long as you’re bringing us something in a bottle for the pressie.
Today in My Imaginary Boyfriend News (well, actually last week in My Imaginary Boyfriend News, but things are always complicated chez Operation Global Media Domination HQ) Gawker reports that Steve Jobs made his stage appearance at … who gives a rat’s ass what it was, like I can afford anything he previewed anyway!
Without his wedding ring.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, quibble if you must; deny; harangue; make ridiculous claims like “he’s lost a lot of weight and probably just took it to get re-sized”. Tell yourself whatever lies you need to let you sleep at night.
At last, I’m one step closer to getting a free Macbook!
Yes, GenX’s favorite toy (besides Pong, that is) is celebrating its thirtieth birthday this year. As with everything and everyone who turns that undeniably-adult age, its tastes have changed over time to something more…sophisticated?
Say hello to Love Slime, Hot Slime, Relax Slime (?) and Elegance Slime (????).
In related news, here’s a story about some of my colourful relatives. Expect The Sister to pop up any second to deny it…
At my cousin’s wedding they had little pots of slime at the place settings. I kid you not. In the wedding colours, too. It was floral-scented. All my now-grown and dapperly be-suited cousins spent the entire wedding dinner sticking their thumbs in the little pots to make farting noises. And people wonder why I live at the other end of the country.