Excuse Our Mess.

I finally decided to upgrade my blog to the new system. My readers (both of them) will notice some new stuff, like the new template (which will change at my whim) and the tags. I have to manually tag all my posts, and some of them might end up with 3 or 4 tags - so it's going to be an ongoing process. When the tagging process is complete, you'll be able to sort by tag, so you read only posts dealing with alpacas or britney spears, if such is your desire, you sick fucker. Anyway, this post here is the first one I will give the tag of "upkeep". the "upkeep" tag will be applied to all the posts dealing with blog upgrades, downtime, and so on. I'll post and describe what all my tags mean once I'm finished. Here's a tag that isn't intuitive, and as such needs explained now: brain farts. Brain farts are the weird little random posts that serve no purpose and inform of nothing. If I just get the weird urge to say "mexican belt!" or something, I'll tag that one a "brain fart" Anyway, Enjoy.

I've got the no-talent blues

Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, and Brooke Hogan are examples of a truism: fame can make up for talent. You don't need to be able to sing - protools can fix that. If you are famous and want to make an album - no problem, go make it, and sit back and collect the money from the platinum sales of your horrible crap, laughing at all the musicians with real talent who struggle for 10 years and can't get their demo listened to.
By the way - what the fuck is Paris Hilton famous for, exactly? I mean - she acts, sings, models, has a perfume line - but all of that came as a result of her fame. So what made her famous in the first place? What does she do? It's a death-knell for human civilization when somebody can be a real, honest-to-god celebrity just because they party a lot and have a rich dad.

word of the moment: Schlock. It's when something is utterly without value, like that Paris Hilton autographed cd you'll get 35 cents for 2 years from now on ebay.

My sweet love.

My fiancé bought me, among other things, a subscription to architectural digest, and another one to mental floss. She also got me a book on Salvador Dali. I love her so much. It's exactly what I would have gotten for myself, if I was buying a gift for me, which I do all the time, only I usually buy Twinkies or some Gold by the inch.

Wisdom from a 6-year-old.

History is moving.

Hey everyody! It's a -

MEXICAN BELT!

It's almost poetic.

Last night, our 8-week-old miniature pinscher was viciously attacking a heart-shaped pillow - while simultaneously humping it. There has got to be an anecdote in there somewhere.