Hey, people of the world (or maybe just the internet), take a look at this piece I wrote for Germ Magazine about the drought in California and how a crazy governor wants people to limit their water consumption even as he thinks it's just swell to waste millions of gallons of water on freaking fracking. Oh, I make a lot of Dune references, too.
"Holy crap!" Space Hospital, series 3, has begun. With dinosaurs! Stay tuned for more episodes, and not just because I wrote one about a humble celebrity liposuction guru.
On this day after Christmas, the eggnog down to its foamy dregs, the scant snow beginning to drip and to drip and to drip, drip, drip, let us thank the glorious purportedly human specimens who've been paid off to lie about climate change (and not just to lie, mind you, but to form a movement of anti-science numbskullery, the likes of which, it turns out, we've seen before and will surely see again). Socking these folks in their stupid stinking dirty smiles would perhaps have the wrong effect, I've heard (though maybe later we should try that, just for kicks?). But if we thank them -- oh, if we thank them, and perhaps embrace them with all the love we've got left in our post-holiday hearts, just before the climate shit really hits the proverbial fan...well, maybe they'll feel bad for their part in the carnage. And then, as the coasts are sinking, the trees and grasses burning, the mutant children fleeing the giant spiders, the zebras attacking us as blood rains from the skies and polar bears adopt vegetarianism and all that, at least we'll have the many sorries of these wankholes to comfort us, right? Right, and somehow, by God, that will be enough. With just that the planet will begin to heal itself, and Lois in her car will be hauled up out of the ground and she'll be alive without Superman even having to fly around the Earth! Okay, fine, it is kind of hilarious to think that doorknob-heads like this might have actual feelings, or even just non-reptile skin and normal eyes, as opposed to scales and crazy red robot orbs that shoot lasers. But maybe they do. Maybe they do.... If that is the case, or even if it's not, let us thank them. Let us thank them in the purest Clark Kentiest way we know how, with our firmest handshakes, our handsomest smiles and our uncreepiest caresses. Thank you, you [upstanding people]. Thank you. :) Merry Day-After-Christmas to all, and to all a good life!
Yes, I think I need to blog about something. Perhaps even some thang or, at the very least, Sum 41. Remember them? Well, you probably would if I'd ever blogged about them, you three or four [clearly real people from Russia] who "follow" this blog. To make a long story short, Sum 41 was a band. What I mean to say is, Sum 41 still is a band. I think. Not that I'm an authority. Whatever their status, this blog post was written in memory of one or sum or all 41 of them.
