What popped up when I typed "why" into a Google toolbar:
- why do men have nipples
- why is the sky blue
- why is my poop green
- why did i get married too
- why can't i own a canadian
- why did the chicken cross the road
The Bulletin
Articles and commentary on branding, design, and culture in Lancaster, PA, and beyond.
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I don't know about you, Interwebs, but all my New Year's resolutions are shot to H-E-Double Hockey Sticks. The one thing I've managed to keep up is making my bed every day. Actually, that's kind of cheating since I think I started doing that before the New Year. I only ever made the bed when I changed the sheets because I used to think that making the bed was kind of pointless. You're just going to mess it all up again and erase your hard work in a mere 14-16 hours, right?
Our interwebs seem to be tangled this morning, which sucks a mighty megatron. What will I use to distract me from the work I should be doing if I can't look up amazing must-see beards?
Read this. Watch this. Try this. If you think that's awesome, check out these Lego pinhole cameras. Makes you want to get your kiddie MacGyver on, right?
And I don't mean the fact that my former hometown, the ol' burg where I spent 16 formative years, only started handing out potassium iodide pills to protect local thyroids from local nuclear power plant accidents within the last few years. From what I understand, the only local nuclear power plant accident occurred over 25 years ago, so I'm not quite sure why the recent need for the pills. I'm sure if it was serious they would have told us. No, by "TMI" I mean "Too Much Information."
It's a mean kind of day. The kind of day where it takes 40 minutes to travel 7 miles because someone decided to turn a busy two-lane road into a jammed one-lane road during morning rush hour. Where a PP&L truck is double parked right where I want to turn. The kind of day where you want to crawl back to bed but have to rest one eye up. This being a mean day, that one eye which you are using to keep haters to the left is inflamed and raw like sushi, mainly from the untold lethal fumes and other hazardous building bric-a-brac being kicked up by the builders upstairs and next door. What I'm saying is, it's Tuesday.
Some words are inherently funny. Like "douchebag". Or "fannypack". And "milquetoast". "Pantywaist". One of the writers or producers behind Futurama supposedly believes that "underpants" is hi-larious. And he's right. Think about it. "Underwear"? Meh. "Underpants"? Hi. Larious. Usually these words are funny because they're naughty by association. Like "fallopian tubes". There's nothing like a good fallopian tube joke.
I have a morbid fear of dropping young children on their heads. This may stem from that one time I dropped my roommate's two-year-old nephew on his head. Cute kid. Luckily, he already had kind of a bumpy head, so the huge red lump was hardly noticeable. I felt pretty bad about it but even worse than I probably would have because he sounded just like Elmo. You know what's even better than a little kid sounding like Elmo? Operatic bedtime songs. Now that I'm thinking about it though, there are a lot of strange people "tucking" the little dude in at night. Should we be teaching children that it's okay to have a revolving bedroom door? Seriously though, Andrea Bocelli singing "Time to Say Goodnight" to Elmo is enough to warm even my cold cold cynical heart. Best duet. Ever.
Ever wonder what Paradise tastes like? Yeah, neither have I. I just cracked open a new tube of toothpaste that is supposedly "Paradise Fresh". I don't really keep track of all the latest in toothpaste innovations - I didn't even know that you could really innovate toothpaste, unless science figures out a way to fix cavities through toothpaste. The latest hullabaloo in the toothpaste industry seems to be enamel strengthening. It's not as exciting as fluoride or whitening, but what can you do?
So these life list things have been all the rage this past year or two, if you haven't noticed. People are just raging down the street left and right nowadays, dodging bulletpoints and weaving through checkmarks. It's the most violent era of listmaking history ever. Or maybe it's not and I'm just thinking violent thoughts because Jeronimo just shanked me in our ongoing Facebook Superpoke! war. (For the sake of fairness, I should mention that I started it all by taking sexy back from him. Someone had to do it.) So in my fictional life list for my fictional life, Number 71 is to start an independent free weekly in Lancaster. Besides all the other independent free weeklies already out because of course mine would be so much better by virtue of my stealing every good bit from Philly's free weeklies. Like the I Love You, I Hate You bit from the Citypaper. So much unbridled, unedited, smutty hatred all in one place! I can only imagine how the Lancaster version would turn out... |
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