The World Keeps Turning.

Listening to Superpitcher's Today on the train almost made me not mind the smell. That's not true. I always mind the smell. One of my co-carbies was out most of yesterday buying a car, and it got me thinking. Maybe there's something to this car owning, insuring, fueling, parking, driving, parking ticket paying thing. I could avoid the $3 train altogether. But then I saw some shoes I liked. They were $1700, and all of a sudden a car seemed really expensive, and quite an indulgence.

Been looking in at the men's Fall 2007 runway shows with some interest. I am predictably all about the Allesandro Dell' Acqua silver gloves and puffy jacket. The puffy jacket reminds me of something the poor kids at school used to wear. I bet they're laughing their fool heads off.


While researching Sunday's Page Six Blind Item I unearthed a scurrilous report depicting Derek cozying up with Ralph Lauren super-hottie Tyson Beckford. The thought of it, I mean the very thought, gives me a spasm. Mama needs to hit the gym, but compadre refuses to act as both body guard and personal trainer. Conflict of something or whatever.

Since we always seem to be on the subject of spasms, it seems that the fast food industry, McShit, et. al. has it's very own lobby. The Center For Consumer Freedom is the militant arm of low priced and convenient fat shit slingers everywhere. When I first heard of this I was stunned even with all the talk of Washington special interests, but these people are seriously fucked. Check out their web-site and see what I'm talking about. This "non-profit" (ie. new pyramid scheme) is entirely funded by the likes of KFC, Burger Slut, and Mega-crisis, and passes itself off as an organization dedicated to defending the consumer's right to eat poison, shit, and mechanically separated bone fragment, and slaughter animals in the process. All things need to feed.

Oh and check this article out about the logistical/environmental issues that are raised by making sure America is well stocked with pig flesh. Then you can visit the Center For Consumer Freedom and tell them how much they blow. I've sent dozens of emails, but I grow weary. And I don't think they're listening.

Goodness. It seems I got myself atop a soapbox or similar cube. I'm gonna scoot and check out the status of Blohan's recovery and see how the average person spells volition.