Nine blogless days later...

Dear everyone,

I wasn't going to blog today either, because you can fuck off, that's why. I'm cranky. This whole possible non-existence thing has thrown a wrench into my plans for world domination through the establishment of a highly successful global chain of frozen banana stands, an idea that was inspired mostly by watching the canceled Fox hit show, Arrested Development.

I'm also cranky because the Oscar campaign is going nowhere and fast. Big Bird backed out of VP talks, and we were counting on his electability with preschoolers to pretty much seal the deal. So now what do we do?

The best idea I've heard so far is to resurrect Mr. Rogers and the fabulous styles of his hairs, and put him on the ticket. But the campaign coffers are seriously adwindle these days. We consulted with a resurrection specialist named Jesus something (he had amazing references... Michael Jordan AND Frankie Avalon!), and it would appear that the best-known celebrity we can afford to resurrect is Eddie Rabbit, of "I Love a Rainy Night" fame.

Frankly, I don't think a Grouch-Rabbit ticket is going to get the job done.

So, as I said, I wasn't going to blog today either. (I believe I also mentioned something about fucking off, but I take that back.)

The reason that I decided to break my blogradio silence on this, the day of the Lost season 4 finale, is to make fun of this woman's pants:



I don't know how clearly you can see it, because I was laughing pretty hard when I took the pictures, and I'm sorry about that. What you can or can't see is that this woman's pants have flowers on them! But just on half! It's as if the designers themselves got halfway through and thought, "this is stupid. These pants are awful and ugly, and nobody in their right mind will ever wear them in public ever. Let's just make the top half black and call it a night." Seriously, these pants look like something the Salvation Army would reject.

This is how I imagine her train of thought went that morning:

Oh, boy! Another new day. But what to wear? Well, let's check that bag of clothes that the Salvation Army rejected and see if there's anything there... PERFECT!

I know, it's cynical and mean of me. I told you I was cranky. I also told you to fuck off, but again, I take that back.

Love and kisses,
Smokey Robinson.