rosie o'donnell was skinny in 'the flintstones' and other childhood luxuries that we'll never live again

1. we could "skip-it" in our driveways and other kids wouldn't walk by and laugh; they'd want to join.

2. the homoeroticism of he-man: master of the universe generated no controversy. we didn't get velma was a lebso and that shaggy was also baked.

3. we were scared of aliens. now we are scared of illegal aliens in the dark alleys of alphabet city armed with shanks and nothing to lose.

4. my sister could call her african-american doll, "chocolate baby" in public and be perceived as cute.

5. larisa oleyink was pretty:eesh.

6. candy with trans-fat was delicious.

7. we thought easy bake ovens actually worked. and the cakes we baked made us feel good about ourselves. now, i can spend 45 hours on a research-based ppt and feel like shit about my abilities.

8. life was so much more innocent when we didn't know how to read:


really, the only benefit i could think of is that i used to cower in fear when my grandma would tell me she was going to "take the wooden-spoon to me". now, when an old person makes the same threat i get excited about the prospect of making 200 bucks.

oh, and now that i'm old i don't look up to the stars like ravin simone and zac effron that children revere. strangely enough, i do still find myself constantly asking WWEBD- what would elizabeth berkley do? old habits die hard; and ankle tatoos fade slowly...

Knock, knock? Who is there? Batter? Batter who? Batter up and all around meat. Corn dog? Corn-doggone-it you guessed my joke

You know that eerie feeling that someone is following you? No matter how quickly you turn around you can’t seem to catch the culprit. And that similarly unsettling sister experience when a song follows you to every restaurant and bar you poke you head in only to be playing in the cab you jump in to escape it?

Well, I have been living a twisted combination of the two for the past week except it isn’t serial killer or song has been hot on my tail (and what a hot tail it is). It has been corn dogs: corn dog this, corn dog that. I will now recount all of my encounters with corn-dogs in the past 7 days.

1. SATURDAY, my apartment:United Mileage Plus catalogue recommended item on my personalized page: corn-dog maker
2. SUNDAY, my apartment: Special on corn-dogs airing at 3 AM on the Food Network.
3. TUESDAY, US Post Office: Homeless man spits what appears to be piece of corndog at me and tells my female co-worker she is a, "white whore".
4. WEDNESDAY, the internet: best friend and fellow internet celebrity, Allison Meyer, in an attempt to conceal the NSFW for nature of conversation about dildos tells me she'd like "to be at a corn-dog buffet".
5. THURSDAY, my apartment: I watch, "Troop Beverly Hills" starring Shelly Long who kind of looks like a corn-dog.
6. FRIDAY, the internet con't: best friend and fellow internet celebrity, Allison Meyer, creates an extended metaphor by backtracking to Wednesday and saying, "all the weiners. nom, nom, nom."
7. SATURDAY, Clearview Cinemas: extended joke in Universal Pictures, "Role Models" making use of a 'bagel-dog'.
8. SUNDAY, near Central Park: I give it and eat a corn-dog.

genesis

back when everyone was reading "perks of being a wallflower", listening to dashboard in secret and feeling sad about the dates they weren't being asked on... back when everyone had baggage and airlines weren't charging extra, i was very young. brian molko put it best: just 19, a sucker's dream. i guess i thought i had the flavour?

luckily i got out of it all without permanently scribbling any five point stars on my body (suckers). in fact, all that is left from the early to mid 2000s is a couple of dusty journals and about 4,549 kbs over at livejournal.com, which admittedly contains quite a few photo sequences inspired by bad movies like the rules of attraction and party monster. that blog, which began as a tool for garnering attention, expressing deeply-seeded emotions and exhaling subtle secrets (hay, guys i think i miiight be a gay) slowly morphed into something less serious (or more serious, depending on how you looking at things) and became a way of recording what happened during black out(s). [4 am: rode home in a shopping cart, punched in the face for trying to steal a vacuum cleaner, made out with a cop (maybe) and a bouncer (definitely) and a girl, am i pregnant, going to eat a donut, bye.] it all eventually ended, rather abruptly at that. imagine the sequence in britney spears' "lucky" where she crones out "stop" and it does.

i graduated from college, traveled for a bit, lost some beer belly and settled down (ha) in the city that never sleeps. not that i ever slept in the first place.

well, i was pre-gaming alone last friday when i had a divine vision. god spoke to me from the bottom of my dolly parton dixie stampede boot mug and told me that i needed to blog again. he did, he really did! you see, blogging has been the 'it' thing to do for about a year and a half now, since i went on my hiatus. god has told me to come back and show everyone how it is done once again. hosanna hey!

now, i don't want you to think i am big-headed or self-absorbed (i might be the last one, but if i am it's not in a bad way). i am by no means perez hilton and i don't just mean i'm not super morbidly obese. firstly, i really was chosen by god for this. i have long been a prophet of sorts. proof? i have nearly died 6 times. secondly, i have a tattoo of the internet. thirdly, my best friend also has a tattoo of the internet.

i hope this first post didn't set any sort of tone or garner any expectations. this is the prologue, the necessary nonsense. i just had to lay the pipework down.

i'll clog them later.