But, of course, there is the down side of the internet: incessant junk mail. The following is an actual message that I received today:

From: Eliza M. Eddy
To: Elma Q. Fournier
Subject: My boyfriend's shaft keeps slipping out.

Dames always giggled at me and even gars did in the open toilet!
Well, now I sriek at them, because I took Mega. Dik for 5 months and now my pecker is indeed bigger than average.
shop for [link removed]
--------------------------

This guerilla advertising is supposed to make me dash to the address provided and shop for "Mega Dik"? I worry slightly, because it must be working on someone (presumably either "dames" or "gars") for some bastard to take the time to send this email out.

P.S. Isn't it a bigger problem if your boyfriend's shaft never "slips out"?

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I don't consider myself a deep thinker. (Unless, of course, I'm trying to figure whether the immorally apathetic Comedian, the unyielding vigilante Rorschach, or the mad machinations of Ozymandius represents a greater threat to the crumbling, stagnant civilization in Watchmen.) And while I'm far too shallow for frequent introspection, I do constantly marvel at modern technology. How often do you stop and think about how your life has changed since the onslaught of the World Wide Web? Can you even remember a time when you had to buy a magazine to see naked girls? Thank you, Al Gore, for inventing the internet!

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I made the mistake of looking for info on the next Batman movie on the internet. I don't know why I did it. It was like some sort of compulsion. And what did I discover? People are excited about the Bat-cycle. Don't ask me why; I completely don't understand it. Maybe Bruce can't afford fuel for that police-killing, gas-guzzling Bat-Hummer any more. Good riddance

I tried to watch the last movie on TV the other day, and I simply couldn't do it. It's even worse on a small screen than it was in the theater. I swear, you don't see a single punch land on anyone during the movie. If I'm supposed to imagine what happens between the cuts in a fight scene, why don't I just go buy another Batman comic book? It's a lot cheaper than a movie ticket, and the acting's less wooden. (I'm talking to you, Katie Holmes.)

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At long last, I've launched my tribute site to Booster Gold, DC Comic's second greatest super hero. You can browse the site (10 months in the making!) at your leisure here: www.boosterrific.com. There you can marvel at my mad skillz.

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Yesterday a friend asked me to explain the following joke to him:

"There are 10 types of people in the world: those who speak binary and those who don't."

I'm still not sure which is worse: that I was able to explain it to him, or that I thought that it was so extremely funny. Maybe it's a good thing that I don't get out much.

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I just ran across an internet news item that reported that Japanese citizens were being scammed by companies selling sheep to people who believed that they were poodles. My usual fact checking (because my mama always told me to believe none of what I read) unearthed another report that said that the sheep-as-poodles story was a hoax. Should I be more disappointed that people can't tell the difference between poodles and sheep, or that most people don't have difficulty believing that people can't tell the difference between poodles and sheep? Is this a slur against people or poodles? (One would irritate me; the other wouldn't. I'm sure that you can guess which is which.)

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Everything that I've thought about posting to the blog in the past few days has essentially amounted to little more than me whining about nothing important. (Not football or comic books; those ARE important.)

But I didn't want to do that. I don't want this blog to be nothing but me bitching about the same old things. (My brother has already chastized me for that once. I'm not giving him a second opportunity, that bastard.) So instead of a pointless blog entry about how much I hate something, I present to you, my adoring public, the most enjoyable game I've ever found on the internet: Whizzball.

Sure, it's at Discovery Kids, but that doesn't make it any less amusing. And just because it's been there for years doesn't mean that it's any less enjoyable. It's a good, simple time-waster; the sort of game that consoles used to provide but have abandoned in search of the next over-produced, under-developed, button-mashing, blockbuster movie-length presentation of T&A and boring-ass gameplay. >shakes fist at sky, yelling "Khaaan!"<

And for those of you who like your games a little deeper, I'll give you a bonus: The Battle for Wesnoth. This open-source, turn-based strategy fantasy game. You can't go wrong with that. It's fund to play, and it's a real challenge as well.

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Football season approaches rapidly. One of the best parts of the NFL season (and there are many, many highlights of the NFL season every season) is the Tuesday Morning Quarterback (TMQ for short) column written by Gregg Easterbrook. I was caught by surprise this week when I discovered that TMQ was returning to Page 2 on ESPN.com this year after several years at NFL.com. Apparently this switch was announced way back in April and I didn't notice it. The season hasn't even started yet and I've already almost fumbled the ball!

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I just realized that I've wasted my entire afternoon (the last few hours, anyway) looking at pics of abandoned amusement parks on the internet. I can't help it. I know I've mentioned it before, but I'm just fascinated by scenes of manmade structures overcome by nature. Best of all are the fallen amusement parks: titans of technology devoted to staving off mankind's worst enemy -- boredom -- left fallow and destroyed by sun, wind, water, and time. If these haunted steel and concrete skeletons are discovered by future archaeologists, what conclusions will they draw about their ancestors?

See the ruins of Chippewa Lake Park in Ohio. Wander through abandoned Dogpatch USA in Arkansas. Or, if you're feeling adventurous, visit the orient to see the remains of "waste recreational area T" or "Nominal Koka family land" in Japan, the home of the decaying theme park.

>sigh< It's like poetry for the eye.

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In the past few days I've spent many hours learning to solve a Rubik's Cube. (Don't have your own? Play with a virtual cube online. Thank you internet!) I'm not interested in solving for speed, but I would like to be able to pick a scrambled Cube up and solve it. I'm not quite there yet.

Will this make me any money? No. Will this make me a better person? No. Will this impress the ladies? Hell no. But it has certainly been more entertaining than watching the Olympics.

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