Rule Britannia.

After much pressure, the distinguished British landmark Big Ben has decided to start twittering. Alcohol monitoring bracelet, sexually explicit memoir, and werewolf bar mitzvah cover to follow.

Shuster, you might just have to make some room

I’m debating setting up a twitter account. I know that twitter is old news and every blogger and their mothers have covered it, but I’m a little behind, nay, reluctant on the times. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t judge the twitterers out there, I just know that I will go bananas over it and waste hour after hour writing things like, “I just ate my third bowl of Raisin Bran” or “What would happen if I was given a chance to swap bodies with a turtle?” Maybe it could be kind of funny. I’m probably better in short form. In fact, I suggest that you only read one to two sentences of my blog per day. It’ll make more sense over time.

I don’t know what’s holding me back. I rock those Facebook status updates like a motha fucka, so it’s not like I’m all worried about being self-indulgent (this blog is evidence enough of that). I’m not afraid of sharing the mundane details of my life, either. In fact, I’m always terribly surprised when someone isn’t entertained by my stories about seeing a bee on my run or trying a new shampoo.

Chances are that I’ll be signed up for one by the weekend. I remember when a friend first had to “talk” me into a Myspace account (ah, when the world was as simple as Myspace). The conversation pretty much went like this:

PQK: I don’t want a Myspace account. They’re so trendy.
Friend: I don’t know, you should get one just t—
PQK: OKAY!

I guess I just need to wrap my head around how much time will be devoted to tweeting (right?). To be fair, I did finally finish watching The Wire so I got a little bit more time on my hands. It’s not like I’m some sort of nerd who’ll now use those hours productively. Jeeze.

Tell me readers, do you twitter? Would you read my twitter? Are you proud of me for not saying twatter once this entire post? Cause believe me, I wanted to.

P.S. Something awesome happened to me yesterday. It’s likely that I’ll be flying out to NYC to interview for my dream internship. I’ll keep it vague until I know whether or not it’s okay to be specific. We wouldn’t want this little po’dunk blog to ruin the chance of lifetime, would we?

Hey Girl

So, there's this new website called Fuck Yeah! Ryan Gosling and the concept is kinda like lolcats, but, wait for it, instead it's about Ryan Gosling and what it would be like if he was your boyfriend and started every sentence with "Hey Girl." And (PLUS!) he speaks in grammatically correct(ish) complete sentences. Some of them are stupid and expected, like "Hey Girl, let's cuddle," but others are totally awesome.

Like this one.



Here are a few things that I would like to hear Ryan Gosling say:

"Hey Girl. The amount of time you spend on the internet makes you really attractive."

"Hey Girl. It's not unhealthy to find me most sexy when I play a skinny crack-addicted history teacher in "Half Nelson." P.S. I was awesome in that movie."

"Hey Girl. You can totally eat my left-overs."

"Hey Girl. No, I really would like to hear more about Chuck and Blair on last night's Gossip Girl."

The best possible information

I just checked wikipedia for some quick facts on the Great Depression. Here's what it had to say in it's opening paragraph:

The Great depression in the United States began on "Black Tuesday" with the Wall Street crash of October, 1929 and herpes rapidly spread worldwide. Asians everywhere were dying.

What? Now, I don't find Asians dying funny or the worldwide spread of herpes funny (the latter is a blatant lie), but I just gotta say that wikipedia is full of comic gold. Gold, I say!