The Postcard

Last week, I sent my friend Sandy (of the new hit blog, "A Life Told In Lols," formerly of "Blog de la Revolution"-now defunct-) a postcard. When Sandy got it, she accused me of having a filthy mind. She said that her mailman is going to think she's a pervert.

It seems, Ladies and Gentlemen, that on the postcard I sent, someone drew a small penis (small only when compared to the gigantic balls beneath).

I didn't draw it. Let me make that clear. I really don't even know how to draw a penis. Moreover, there was a year or two in my youth when I was genuinely afraid of being asked to draw one (having not yet seen the thing on which to base my illustration). I imagined people laughing hysterically. "That's not what it looks like!" That childhood fear has, I think, prevented me from ever ever sketching genitals.

Also, the dick in question was done in a different color ink than my harmless "Hi from Montana, Sandy." So it couldn't have been me.

She agreed and we laughed. The matter would have been dropped, except later I thought...

I brought the postcard directly to the post office. I put it in a mailman's hand. And, when Sandy promptly received it, it had never once been out of the watchful eye of the United States Postal Service.

In conclusion: This was a high rank, government peen sketch. And I can now comfortably say to the culprit: You wildly misrepresented the testicals.

They're in love, I'm in love.

In defense of New England

Timeline: Slaves
subtitled: Proof that AP is racist.

1774
Connecticut and Rhode Island prohibit further importation of slaves

1777
Vermont Constitution prohibits slavery.

1780
Massachusetts Constitution adopted with freedom clause interpreted as prohibiting slavery.

1784
Connecticut and Rhode Island pass gradual emancipation laws.

1788
Connecticut prohibits residents from participating in slave trade.

then... some serious time later...

1799
New York passes gradual emancipation law.

No respect for New England, he says. New York is better, he says. Four out of four slaves disagree. New England: equal rights for all. New York: when we get to it.

Preseason

When the Giants lose in preseason, I say, "It's preseason, who the fuck cares."
When the Giants win in preseason, (especially against a team like the Patriots, again) I say, "Fuck you New England, you're our bitch now."

I'm not apologizing. New York is a better than Boston or any city in new england. I have so little respect for new england, I won't even capatalize it. I miss you, New York.

whereisbarackobamarightnow.com

I was just reading that Obama is in Billings, Montana tonight and I got all mad at myself for not knowing it (as if I would have driven all the way down there for the chance to shake his hand or see him or something). It made me think, and then, google search, 'where is barack obama right now?' I think this may be my best (creepiest) idea ever. At first I just thought, what state, but now I'm kind of thinking, I want to know exactly where his is. His privacy, and personal safety aside, I think this is something everyone would love.

I'm starting a website, whereisbarackobamarightnow.com. Forget about his stance on healthcare or his economic plan, I want to know where he eats his breakfast and when he takes a crap. And I especially want to know when he's in a 100 mile radius of me. Remember all those 5, 10, and 20 dollar donations. WE OWN YOU.

Hillary's big speech

Obama was watching Hilary's entire speech muted while him and his friends took turns pretending to do her voice.

DNC Sexiness 08

Dyson Airblade

It's pretty much the best hand dryer ever because it uses some kind of crazy future technology. It gets rid of any wrinkles, skin cancer, or moles you might have and tells you your horoscope. Don't get caught putting your privates up in there.

Welcome to your first day, D-ball.

So yesterday was my first day of teacher training.

editor's note: I've been at teacher training that's why I haven't posted. Starting Monday, I am going to instruct 25 college freshman on the ins and outs of composition. I am drinking right now to cope with the anxiety of that responsibility.

Think back on all your first days, readers. Nervousness, new outfits, new people. On my first day of junior high, I waited at the bus stop in pleated skirt, hoping to come off all catholic school cute. It didn't work out as planned. Before the final bell, I am pretty sure I heard some boys making fun of my excessive arm hair.

Things have not changed so much over the years. Yesterday morning, I picked the perfect outfit. It was casual, but nice, trying, but not too hard. I blow dried my hair and I put on eye shadow for the first time all summer. Then I hopped on my bike and headed for campus.

Cut to me, walking into a nearly full room, sweating like a pig. Seriously people, bike riding is not the easy exercise of my youth. I huffed and I puffed and I opened my classroom door to find everyone perfectly put together in their first day gear, and me, the with a glandular problem. So bad I was wiping my face with balled up tissues the whole first half of class. Sometimes I would have to blow my nose with the sweaty tissues. I was a monster, nice to meet you.

Please comment on your first days. My drink is almost gone and I need to commiserate.

The Selby

Hip people, their homes, and all their stuff looking beautiful, thanks to photographer Todd Selby. Thought you might want to check it out.