I'm not a fan of the show, but I'm glad my wife DVR'ed this latest episode. Tokyo Police Club is badass, and I'll take pretty much any opportunity I can to mention them here. Check out a couple of their videos from MTV's website:

I could not possibly hate a commercial more than I hate this one. The song is catchy and completely awful at the same time. I will never buy a Toyota. Ever.

The original song is from The Fixx, an 80's band. It's full of syncopated percussion, synth sounds, tons of reverb, a mulleted singer with a grim face, and vocals that sound almost like a slightly more upbeat version of Joy Division. Totally 80's, but not vomit-inducing.

The song in the commercial, however, is clearly a studio recording by some piece of shit classic rock cover band doing their version of a song that was mediocre to begin with. Imagine a backwoods Florida rock band in black t-shirts, tight acid washed jeans, waterfall mullets, and black Reebok high-tops performing a full set of Foreigner songs. Then out of nowhere they sneak in their version of this clusterfuck by The Fixx. That's how bad this song (and this commercial) is.

Watch at your own risk. If you off yourself after witnessing this atrocity, I will accept no responsibility whatsoever. I warned you.

(Thanks to Cupps for recommending this vid)

"In 1972 a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire the A-Team."

Let's get this started.

Here's the thing....Often, I think about a significant return to blogging.  I think of creating a new site, pimping it out, gaining a small readership and showing them cartoons and hi-fucking-larious posts(No shame.).  Often, I think of inviting some of the quality funny guys I know to blog with me.  I think of the good times we had and wish I could have them again.

Then, I slap myself for being a woman, and then roughly feel myself up. This makes me, myself, feel degraded and violated.  But don't get all "Call a rape center!" on me.  Because I was asking for it, in fact, I deserved it. 

Why?  Because Characters from TV shows have blogs.  Retail Corporations have "news blogs".  For Fuck's Sake, JJ's goddamned DOG had a blog.  Sure, it's cute and novel for a few days, but then when you look at it...it's like they've taken away something that was a tool for people to maybe express themselves in a way that was previously non-existant. 

Now, sure.  There are definitely people that should not have access to any kind of audience, lest they shatter that precarious self-image they have deluded into seeing.  But thanks to Reality TV, lots and lots (and I mean LOTS) of those people are being smashed into tiny pieces on camera and then slow-churned into nice little bits of voyeurism for all of use to gorge ourselves on.  We can taste their failure, self-hate, misery, and complete breakdown of mind. 

But it wasn't all "The misunderstood ramblings of a girl on the world" or "Edges of Darkness layered in Dark Corners of Dark Crybaby emotions and endless hours of The Cure.", was it?

There were some badass bloggers back in the day.  Like this chick Goldie from Austrailia? And This crazy kid, G-fry who went off to college.  or Tubbs from Lousianna.  Or Maine, from you know, well Ladytown, VA.  Shit, what about Mikey? And the entirety of QW's and The Churning link lists?

And while I was thinking about how great these blogs were, I realized in that moment, that we, ourselves, killed blogging.  Not corporations, not television show producers.  We did it.

We did it by allowing ads.  We did it by subconciously (however remotely) expecting that we were all clever, intelligent and talented people who "just hadn't been discovered, yet."  We did it by allowing things like BlogExplosion to breed.  We took something that could have legimately been a resource for better understanding of our fellow humans, and tried to squeeze a few bucks out of it.

I always said, when I started the QW! with J (not JJ mind you, he was last on the cast), we would write things that make us or our friends laugh and nothing else.  We would never censor ourselves, or be fake.  And we didn't.  And while not everyone liked the QW!, we did have a pretty large readerbase.  I think in a lot of ways, we were inspirational. 

And we killed it.  Because apparently, liking guns, making dick jokes, and running a joke campaign for the presidency is considered "being a dirty terrorist".  Yes, folks.  One of our own was insulted, threatened and otherwise abused for having an internet blog and just sharing thoughts, fiction, for entertainment purposes.  And we gave up.  We all quit and headed for the hills.  Out of fear for our friend, and maybe REALLY because we were afraid for ourselves.

 I looked at blogging in that moment, and I saw a dream, a chance and a hope shredded, splayed wide open, viscera and sinew stretched.  Blogging was dead.  As it lay there, clawed at, and fed upon by carrion vultures of our society, I could have wept.  Had I any part of me that was not cynical or bitter or just malcontent, I would have wept.

Sure, maybe I was an idealist, maybe I was an idiot for buying into an idea and believe that people at their core were not just rotten and self-centered. 

Maybe next time, we'll get it right.

And things were good. We had 5 authors at our prime. 5 of my best friends. And they made me laugh daily, and in Elwood/Jason's (not JJ, for the uninitiated) case, sometimes 50 times a day. Man, that guy posted a lot. Eventually, we had to stop doing the QW! site. Basically, someone lost a job over it, and was then threatened to be blackballed by certain government organizations. So, when we quit, some of us branched into other sites.

Fast forward a few years. Now, it seems that everyone and their brother (including fucking characters from tv shows) have a blog. I imagine these individuals rushing home to blog their thoughts (which are, at most times, neither interesting nor entertaining), and show the world "just how special I am". I imagine them with smug little looks on their face as they spout out their "Mundane Ramblings On the Edge of Reality from a Crazy Girl/Guy On a Quest to Find Himself/Herself". (Did I miss any shitty blog titles? Come the fuck on, people) I imagine them fastidiously clicking the "Get Mail" button to see if anyone commented on their funny post about how people in the coffee line are really dumb and how Sheila, the bitch at the office, pissed off the wrong person today! I imagine all of this with clarity, constantly reminding myself that the world is full of fucking retarded, trite, ignorant, callous and decidedly petty people. Am I dismayed at this revelation? Not quite. Do I liken the blogging world to an adult High School? Fucking Absolutely.

Which brings me to today, on one hand, I can name at least 8 'die-hard' bloggers who have 'quit' blogging. Usually with some dramatic statement, indicating just how profound they really were. It is these people, who have renewed my dream of the End of Days. Am I a dick? Absolutely. But are you not entertained? Wait, let me put on my gladiator's costume and scream that, "ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!?!?!!?"

The thing I love about guys like JJ or Maine (from that QWMaine site) is that while they put a lot of effort into their "Insane Ponderings of A Girl in the City", they take it with a grain of salt. They're self-deprecating, and aware that their blog is just as stupid as any other, and not some Tome of Lore that will be mulled over by Bambridge Scholars.

But you see, that's what seperates the cream from the whey, as it were. These guys are truly like that. When we get together, we might talk about some existential theory on the true meaning of life (thanks, MaryJane!), but at the end of the day we know we're abso-fucking-lutely retarded and no one cares about what we think. Does it stop us from being ourselves? No. But we're not going to be winning any Nobel Peace Prizes anytime soon, either.

"So, Ev", you blithely ask, "What's your fucking point?" My point is merely this: No one cares about you, your life, or your blog. The only readers you ever really had, were most likely friends of yours (or friends of friends). Anyone else, just came to your site to get traffic, or spam ads for penis enlargement, free prescription medications, or games of Texas Hold'em. To quote Tyler Durden: "You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying matter as everything else. You are the all singing, all dancing crap of the world." Get the fuck over yourself.

Incidently, if you now hate me and want to tell me off, please feel free to do so. Just don't be surprised if I don't care.

One night, I dreamt that I had pubic hair. It was sudden. The hair had grown in overnight.

In the dream, I woke up and walked into the bathroom to take my morning shower. I pulled off my underwear and noticed I had a giant afro of hair on my cock. Yes I said "on my cock." My little fella kind of looked like Dwayne from What's Happenin'.

I freaked out. I knew that pubes were supposed to grow on my nutsack and around the base of my johnson. But that area was totally bald. All I had was a little 'fro on my penis head. I was fucking terrified.

Then I woke up in a cold sweat.

I immediately turned on the lights and checked out my junk. Still no pubes. Thank fucking god. That was probably the one time I was actually happy that I hadn't yet grown penis hedges.

(Hat tip: Joethe)