No, I’m not writing about UCLA, Florida, Ohio State, and who da hell was the fourth? Kansas? Anyhow, no, I’m writing about American Idol. Dear, dear mindless American Idol—the perfect vacuous escape from our accumulated angst associated with the great Paris Hilton sentencing debacle.
With that said, is anything I write here consequential to anybody or anything? Hell no! But it feels good just to vomit out this bile through my keyboard. It is at once purgative and just plain biliously pleasing. I love my bile. You see, I have no gall bladder to store it in, so it must be regurgitated through my computer in order not to accumulate internally. Get it? I thought you would! Read on for more incoherent ranting.