Two more in the series of Why I Don’t Swim in the Ocean. I would, if I could convince a pair of divers to swim below me at all times. Watch these videos and you’ll see why.
The Octopus
and
The Mantis Shrimp, ancestor to all clowns. Have a good time trying to sleep tonight.
Enjoy your next swim!
h/t Griffin Boyce
Apparently the top sign of having mono is that you sleep fourteen hours a day and spend an additional four hours watching YouTube videos.
In case you’re wondering, no, I haven’t died. I’m just working like a slave for my clients and TheCryptosphere.com which you should read REPEATEDLY EVERY GODDAM DAY HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU.
As proof that I am the same old me, here is an horrific vision of a slavering canid in a blood rage, attacking helpless bubbles. Yes, a Chihuahua puppy and a bubble machine. You’re welcome.
I have, for some time, suspected that my bucket list might differ substantially from those of other, lesser mortals. A swift peruse through the Bucket List tag on WordPress confirms this.
AIM HIGHER PEOPLE!
I have no idea whether or not you have the capability to achieve higher aims, but just reading “go to Six Flags” umpteen times is fucking depressing, okay? AIM HIGHER. For me.
And now to my bucket list:
Marry Prince Caspian
Win Nobel Prize for Literature before 30 (nb requires time machine at this point)
Capture and tame and break to ride a wild mustang, dressage optional
Become the White Rahnee of Sarawak
Have John Galliano call me a muse
Make memorable entrance to Annabel’s
Compete in a three day event
See Bali from the inside, the way I saw the Bandas
Have a good sit-down with Prince Bandar of Saudi Arabia
At least once pre-empt Biella Coleman when the media asks for comment on Anonymous. Just once, come on girl
Viggo.
EDITED TO ADD: Wikipedia entry. How could I have forgotten?
I don’t think it’s as bleak as this article makes it seem, but yes, I’ve worked for $15 an article and had editors complain that I got paid that much. Which is one reason I work for myself now.
So it won’t surprise anybody to learn that I really, really don’t like Buzzfeed.
Sometimes, when I consider the Buzzfeed phenomenon, I think I’m living in some sort of fictional satirical world where Buzzfeed is a symbol of how far media can fall. It’s like living in a Douglas Copeland novel. Buzzfeed’s particular brand of lowest common denominator clickbait, their “14 Giraffes Who Totally Look Like Steve Buscemi,” their “25 Things Only People from [Insert Geographical Area Here] Understand,” their “Which of Fat Cat’s Minions from Chip’n’Dale’s Rescue Rangers Are You?” quizzes, their corpsefucking glurge, sitting side-by-side with their “branded content” like “12 Most Crunchtastic TV Moments Brought to You by Frito Lay,” subsidizing imperial stenographer Rosie Gray’s smears of Max Blumenthal (an actual journalist), powered by an aggregation model that comes pretty close to plagiarism even when it doesn’t devolve into the serial copy-and-pasting of Benny Johnson…