Bridgette yelled at me!

She said I went to McDonalds too many times this week to get the large iced hazelnut coffees that I so cravenly desire!

Make her stop!

Now she’s calling her sister and making fun of me right in my face! They are laughing at me, just because I love the succulent sweetness of ice cold coffee mixed with the nutty tang of artificial flavorings! Now she is pointing at me as they laugh!

O bitter fate, why do you rain these awful blows of remorse upon my head?

All right, I’ll say it - I’m sorry! I’m sorry that I’ve visited the nearby McDonalds thrice daily for the last fortnight, wringing my hands in anxious anticipation of my beloved bean-sauce. I’m sorry that I’ve screamed at the pockmarked adolescents who have prepared my drink for not doing so at my preferred speed. I guess I’m sorry for throwing more than one iced coffee to the ground in disgust and inventing new, omnipotent swear words when the beverage was not mixed to my satisfaction.

What can I say? I’m a passionate guy.

Now she’s yelling at me again for this blog post! Stop it! Stop it!

I’m going to hold my breath until you stop!

…

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!

*collapsing unconscious*

Tonight, I will meet with the other members of the Great Blogging Triumvirate (Adam & Kevin) at a top secret mountaintop location.

Together, we will plot out the new world order of the blogosphere, like the Yalta Summit of 1945.

Borders will be redrawn. Some blogs will be eliminated. Chicken wings will be consumed at an alarming rate.

In this equation, Adam is Roosevelt. Sickly and gaunt, he will use his final energies to push for greater theological content across the blogosphere. Shortly after tonight’s summit, Adam will die of a cerebral hemorrhage and will be mourned with mass thigh-pounding and bitter tears.

Kevin is the Stalin of our triumvirate. Alienating and coarse, Kevin will disregard the wishes of the ailing Adam and secretly plan the annexation of many weaker blogs. With his disagreeable politics and troubling slavic philosophies, Adam and I will attempt to politely tolerate Kevin’s presence because of his invaluable assistance in defeating a greater, more immediate enemy (boring, stupid blogs that nobody reads and everybody hates).

Lastly, I am Churchill. Vital and incisive, I will devastate other blogs with the forceful power of my wit (”Ben is a modest little blogger, with much to be modest about”). I shall do my best to divert Kevin’s abrasive advances while reinforcing the weakened idealism of Adam. Also, I will jut my jaw out a lot.

A report will be offered up shortly after our summit surveying the planned geopolitical changes. Any attempts to resist them will be met with the combined might of the blogging superpowers.

Seriously, we will mess up your face.

I think it’s time I got a new “do”.

A new hairdo, I mean!

I’ve been sporting my current hairstyle since about 2002, and I don’t think it’s doing anything for me anymore. Interest from other women seems to have dropped off dramatically, especially since November of 2005 for some reason. I find this inexplicable.

Maybe I should comb my hair back. After all, that look worked out pretty well for Stalin, if I recall correctly.

Any haircut that can help a man kill 8 million Ukranians is good enough for me.

On the other hand, it might be fun to let my hair grow out. I would be rejecting societal norms!

I read one time that Dee Snyder has a PhD. in Economics. That’s gotta be true.

Anyway, to summarize, I admire the accomplishments of Dee Snyder and Joseph Stalin, I’m open to suggestions regarding a hairstyle change, and FOX 9 meteorologist Keith Marler continues to comment on my blog.

I was wrong about you, Keith Marler.

Yesterday I wrote a somewhat scattered post that pointlessly ripped into Fox 9 meteorologist Keith Marler. Since then, he wrote a good-natured comment on that entry and he and I have exchanged emails this morning. Turns out, he’s a pretty nice guy with an enjoyable sense of humor. For example, just 30 minutes ago he wrote me this:

I started looking at your Rock TV stuff … I’ll have to watch a few when I get home (read: away from work) … it looks like your stuff is right up my humor alley (what exactly IS a “humor alley” and why does it sound slightly innuendo-istic ?)

I apologize to you, Keith Marler. Why was I so cruel? Why did I call you “portly”? After all, you are much better described as “stout”.

Do you accept my apology, Keith Marler? Is there some way I can make this animalistic cruelty up to you? Perhaps you would like to come over to my house tonight for a sleepover? You can bring a sleeping bag, but lay on our bed with my wife and I. That way we could keep appropriate boundaries. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.

Keith Marler, why did I misjudge you? Sure you talk too fast sometimes, that’s okay. It’s probably medical or stemming from some unspoken childhood trauma. Don’t let it affect your self esteem. After all, true courage is being yourself despite what other people say. Compared with your life, John McCain’s 5 years in a Viet Cong POW camp look like a relaxing weekend at family-friendly Wisconsin Dells.

Take my hand, Keith Marler. Do you feel their clammy trembliness? I feel terrible for what I have done. Do you see my eyes water and my lip quiver? I am about to cry bitter tears of remorse!

EMOTION!! TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE EMOTION!!

Please, Keith Marler! Let me embrace you on-air during your Fox 9 morning broadcast! My penance must be both public and humiliating! If we cannot warmly grasp one another while the weather is being reported, I suggest you air 10 uninturrupted minutes of me using a public restroom. Then, and only then, will your reputation be redeemed.

I love you, Keith Marler.

While searching for a picture of Fox 9 meteorologist Keith Marler, that I might better ridicule his portly awfulness, I came across this poll, posted on their webpage:

Are you shocked by the death of Heath Ledger?
*Yes! He was only 28!
*No, not really.

Did an unpaid intern write this poll? Is Marler responsible for this? What the hell kind of option is that second statement?

“Nah, I wasn’t shocked at all. It seemed about right. After all, he was Australian.”

By the way, here’s the Marler photo I was looking for:

There you are, you smug bastard. You weren’t shocked by Heath Ledger’s death at all, were you? You probably don’t even have a soul. You’re just some dude on TV with a green tie talking way too fast.

That’ll teach you for telling me the wind chill is 30 below this morning.

In hindsight, I recognize that Friday’s post was a little more vivid than it probably should have been. I hadn’t intended for it to end up so troublingly sensuous, and I apologize. I won’t ever blog in the shower again.

I think all of us could go with a little bit more reconciliation and a little less disturbing description for a while.

Sing with me, if you will.

Ah, here’s an old children’s favorite. Let’s begin:

Sunshine and rainbows and wildflower wishes
These are the things that make happiness real
Hopscotch and potlucks and child safety scissors
You should never tell what your uncle did

Honeydew and acorns and ring-around-the rosie
Let us join hands ’round the old bonfire
Gumdrops and licorice and salt water taffy
Martin Luther King became a dandelion when he died

May a bountiful spirit of renewal fill your step with gaity today, boys and girls! Let this bouncing melody and these eternal words light your way through the dark riddles of hate and free trade agreements!