Why do birds suddenly appear / Every time you are near? (2)

I am Unhappy because you people are not leaving Comments. Start leaving Comments or I swear I will tear off this Mattress Tag. Don't make me do it.

Am I blogging wrong? I'm new to this youthoid whippersnapper blog thing. One night I just started clicking [NEXT BLOG] over and over again. It really frightened me. Do you want my blog to be like that? Do you want me to talk about the cute boy who sits next to me in sociology class? Do you want to hear more about my kitty-cat Snuffles? Do you want to hear about how me and Tifani and Feloni went clubbing on Friday night and met these three cute sailors from Denmark?

mamagiggle leaves Comments. I still haven't figured out what it is that I write that sparks her to leave a Comment, she always throws me for a loop. I think this is because she is a Visual Artist.

I used to work with a Visual Artist. She used words for purposes like this:

"Here is money.
Give me that hot dog now."

She was The Young Photographer From The Ninth Dimension on the Miami newspaper. All the old seegar-smoking news photographers were scared of her, and none of the old seegar-smoking reporters wanted to go on stories with her, so the editors paired her with The Reporter From Vleeptron = moi. It took me four months to realize she actually had Higher Brain Functions, because to me, the World is entirely made of Words, and to her, the World is entirely a thing of pictures and pretty colors, and most of the time she was mute.

So, anyway, in my new blog, is there too much math? (Pat Z. from Helvetia says I should have MORE math.) Too much religion? Not enough about my feelings? Not enough about relationships? WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE WANT??? For Christ's sake, I have had THREE POSTS ABOUT STUFF ABOUT VIRGINS already! And the last one was all about Thousands of Teenage Virgins Having Sex!!! WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE WANT???

Oh, Politics. That's the Hot New Blog Thing that put Blog on the Front Page of The New York Times during the last presidential election. There weren't enough assholes blathering on endlessly about the presidential campaign on Fox News and CNN and MSNBC, so the newspapers starting running stuff about the campaign from the blogs of jerks like me who live in their mom's basement. (I do not live in my mom's basement.)

I think The Times had/has a column called Blogwatch. Also Bloggers have broken 2 or 3 important national news stories. A Blogger pointed out that Dan Rather's 60 Minutes expose about Bush's National Guard service during (but nowhere near) Vietnam relied on government documents that were as credible as my $3 bill and the Donation of Constantine. That's not chopped liver.

I watched The CBS Evening News with Dan Rather last night, and it's The CBS Evening News with Temporary Bob Schieffer. If one of my fellow bloggers hadn't shot down Rather, Schieffer would still be suing CBS for age discrimination, and spending his days fishing on Long Island Sound. Or doing segments on "All Things Considered."

I knew a TV on-camera guy who was fired because he couldn't get rid of the bags under his eyes. (Newspaper reporters really detest TV journalists. Did I just call them "journalists"? Hahahahahahahahahaha!)

Newspapers also get rid of reporters and editors and columnists when they get old. Like, when they get to be 71, if they don't have a good lawyer or a strong union.

TV gets rid of its on-camera "journalists" when their tits aren't perky anymore.

Another thing I love about local TV "journalists" is that they have to wear blazers that have ACTION 9 embroidered on their lapels. On newspapers, we work in the clothes we slept in on somebody's couch the night before. The only newspapermen who wear Italian suits are Italian newspapermen, and that's because there's no JC Penney in Milan. The next time I get a newspaper column, under my byline, I'm going to use real tiny type and say:

Bob's Suits by JC Penney
Bob Hair by Art's Barber Shop & Sports Betting Service

(Actually, Bob's Only Suit, suitable for Weddings to SWMBO, bar mitzvahs, Tenebrae services, funerals, etc., is a fabulous Burberrys I bought at Bloomingdales, and when I wear it, strangers are convinced I'm Richard Gere in "American Gigolo.")

Okay, here's a Political Blog Scoop: President George W. Bush Jr. has no measurable electrical activity in his cerebral cortex. At Yale, a box of rocks accidentally scored higher than he did on the European History final.

Yesterday he very solemnly promised that America would try to do better with The Intelligence Thing in the future, but recent intelligence shortcomings (WMD) had nothing to do with him and his White House/Pentagon team. What choice did they have except to believe some Italians who were scamming $$$$ from the CIA and told them that Iraq was buying uranium from Africa?

Here's a Pizza Slice question: Before running for President, had Bush ever actually been to Europe? Or Asia? (His brother Neil has been to Asia lots of times. I will fetch the tales of Neil's Amazing Oriental Erotic Voyages and post them.)

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