Psychotic Reactions

A potpourri of thoughts. For instance:

--While I haven't seen it, there is no way "The Social Network" makes up for the myriad ways in which Facebook ruined my life. If we can have cars with built-in breathalizers, we need computer monitors with the same. Facebook chat and cheap rum mix like George W. Bush and the NAACP.

--Some entrepreneurial young person will put together a montage of Julia Roberts' face over the past fifteen years, and it will horrify you. Also, she played herself in Ocean's Twelve, a movie which is primarily blamed for my skin cancer.

--Blogger has a few suggestions for labels for this post, and they include the following: scooters, vacation, and fall. Prescient in all the right ways. Did you hear? The CEO of Segway died whilst riding a Segway. While not the literal definition of "irony," that's a pretty fucking close shave.

--It's fall in the Midwest, which can mean only one thing: hipsters in Uptown now feel vindicated for never taking that scarf off. Without knowing it, I just fulfilled one of Blogger's labels! Thanks for the tip, computer.

--My entire stereo system was built in the early 1990s; I either have to replace the entire setup or shell out big bucks for a new turntable. At times like this, I have to ask myself: "How much do I want to listen that goddamn 'Mountain' album?" And the answer is always "a lot."

--Looking back, the only celebrity deaths that have really made me feel shitty have been comedians. I didn't go to class for a week when Richard Pryor died and I called in sick the day after Greg Giraldo passed. I also did a shit-load of prescription drugs those days, so their legacy lives on!

--O.J. Simpson beats the murder rap. Kobe Bryant is acquitted of rape charges. Magic Johnson beats AIDS. I'm just saying.

That's it for tonight! Hooray!