Nonsense

I was thinking I should really update this blog today.

Why is it that I never get asked for directions by one person in a single day? It's always more than one person within an hour of each other. This happens all the time, a day with multiple direction requests. And the rest of the days nothing. Why?

I really like this song by the Ting Tings. You should like it too.


I heard it on Left of Center the other day, and now I can't stop playing it. I like her voice. Impetuous. Sassy. Anti-authoritarian. Turns me on. She's easy on the eyes too. That turns me on too. Two toos in a row there. Two toos too.

On a related note, I can't decide whether to buy or boycott Coldplay's new album. I kind of like them but at the same time, I find them cloying, self-absorbed, and overrated. X&Y put a bug up my ass, but I heard this one's better, so maybe I'll give it a shot. Or maybe not.

IS NOTHING CLEAR TO ME ANYMORE?? God damn, I hope this phase of indecisiveness passes. Isn't five years enough?

Facebook is a malicious tapeworm in my life's intestine. It grows and grows and every day I surrender more and more of myself to cyberspace and complete strangers all over the world. It's cyber-exhibitionism at its most primitive. No wait. Myspace is cyber-exhibitionism at its most primitive. Myspace is the girl who dresses like a slut and doesn't bother hiding the fact that she's going to give it to you at the first opportunity. Facebook is the girl who looks perfectly innocent but who fingers your naughty bits under the table when you're out to dinner with your parents. Facebook is dangerous.

I should patent the phrase cyber-exhibitionism. Hecubus, do a trademark search, STAT!

Summer in New York truly brings out the hairy, knuckle-dragging beast in me. I hit a testosterone spike last week, and it's only getting worse. Too many hardbodies and bare legs in midtown during lunch and I'm hitting critical mass. Watch out ladies! I'm a freak without warning! I'm a naughty boy! I'm Michael Jackson in the video Bad! I'm Andrew Dice Clay with less hair and shorter sideburns! I'm Larry on Three's Company! I'm Doc on The Love Boat with darker hair and cooler glasses! I'm dating myself with these references! This is a cry for help. I should stop now before I say anything rash.

I can keep rhythm with no metronome. (I really can't, but I like this lyric from Handlebars by the Flobots).

Do we all unconsciously pursue romantic partners who are bad for us due to fucked up relations with one or more of our parents? Discuss.