Thursday, November 04, 2004

I, like many of my friends, am extremely depressed about our current state of affairs. My personal prescription for recovery includes the following:

1.) Scream/cry/mope/drag ass/sigh.

2) Get drunk.

3.) Go on a "trampage" while it's still possible (and legal).

4.) Go into ostrich mode: Refuse to read, see, listen to, or encounter real news in any way, shape or form for at least one month.

5.) Throw self down vomit-covered shame spiral.

6.) Re-emerge into society, with renewed commitment to regime change. Begin strict training regimine; Start by dressing/talking like Che Guevara 24/7. Try to find fatigues in more flattering beige/black combo. THE REVOLUTION WILL BE BLOGGED.

Right now, I'm still in ostrich mode and am trying very hard to only read/write about silly, light, FROTHY non-news items. Items that won't send me into a quivering rage. That take my mind off my troubles. That make me chuckle.

However, I think I may have backed myself into a wee corner. After posting that Kirsie Alley possum-nursing story, I find that every other celeb gossip story I come across just doesn't cut the mustard, just doesn't QUITE live up to my new, extremely high, Kirstie Possum standards. Britney might be pregnant? YAWN. Is she pregnant with a possum? Then be gone with ye. Mary-Kate is back in NYC. YAWN. Is she eating possum meat as part of her anorexia recovery? Get outta here. Julia Roberts is mad that Catherine Zeta-Jones got higher billing in "Ocean's 12?" YAWN. Did top billing go to a lactating possum? THEN GET OUT OF MY FACE.

Seriously, this may turn out to be a big problem. The future of this blog depends on celeb gossip stories that live up to someone wet-nursing Kirstie Alley's baby possum. IS IT POSSIBLE? Only time will tell. Stay tuned.

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