Pardon me for a moment. I have to watch some videos that I've been waiting for since Halloween (get it together, Internet). I also need to participate in the annual "freeze your freaking oversized butt off" in my apartment (now in its third year). While I do that, (and freak out at my watch falling slightly and thinking it might be a roach Palmetto bug (jeepers! Identifying information! HIPAA won't like that!) when really it's just gravity (go fuck yourself, Newton) being a straight up prick) take heart in the fact that five Frenchmen took a llama out in Bourdeaux. I've never been to Bourdeaux, but the fact that people snitched on the llama-crew clearly means that the city deserves stitches.

Because animal theft is the new pot.

Okay, one down, one to go. I can finish this first, though.

Or, okay, fine, I could if I knew what I was going to talk about. My usual sources are down for the night, so this might get a tad bit ugly. I even went ahead and took a look at some of last year's late Novemblog posts, and they're downright inspired. I mean, they're utter freaking madness, but it's real madness. None of this "Ha ha I'm so random I'm going to quote The Perks of Being a Wallflower now" bullshit.

With all credit to Randall Monroe. This is comic number 16, as evidenced by the graph paper. He does XKCD. I don't really know any better way to give credit for this. If you're upset, Randall, let me know, and I'll do what I can to make this right. Even if it means bearing your math child. ... Well, that escalated quickly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Additionally, fuck you, fly. You die at my hand, because it's too cold for your shenanigans. Hell, it's too cold for MY shenanigans. It's too cold for all the eggs we've got in our fridge (capacity for 72 at this point. I believe that the actual figure is more like 50. I DO NOT BUY THESE EGGS. HOW DID WE GET SO MANY.). And yes, sometimes I like to ignore the punctuation that might follow more readily from diagramming sentences (you're welcome, 3rd- maybe 10th? grade English and Dad) in favor of going with the punctuation that follows the tone and intended delivery.

Of course, then we get into arguments about whether or not the playwright deserves any real say in the play itself beyond the basic text. I've heard it argued that the only playwright who really put in enough thought to stage direction is Tennessee Williams, but I've read Summer and Smoke- nobody wants any part of that.

They are clearly confused/suffering from Stockholm syndrome. I was going to make a joke about Ibsen, but he's from Norway and was pretty dull the last time I read him. Oh, culture.

It is getting extraordinarily tempting to throw in the towel, but thankfully I took a look at some of my EARLY Novemblog posts, too. They're chock full of writer's block (BECAUSE ONLY ONE PERSON GETS IT AT A TIME. YOU'RE WELCOME, ALL OTHER WRITERS. TIME TO WORK ON THAT NOVEL.) and also beards. Of which I have a full one now. Because, you know, testosterone and aging and receptors and follicles and transcription factors and the next thing you know your son is playing for money in a pinchback suit and listening to some big out of town Jasper talking about horse race gambling. Make your blood boil! Well, I should say.

Returning in full regalia from uncharted Asia, where they have boys' bands that have never seen a traveling salesman. It was quite a difficult time for the Professor, but as always, with a cool head and a keen eye (cultivated, along with his horse sense, from games of billiards in his youth), he was able to prevail.

Oof. Haven't even hit 700 yet. This could be a long night, dear readers, but let it never be said that ol' so and so welshes on his word.

Although he may Concord grape on it.

Geez. That caption disappeared for a minute. Truly, we have reached a harrowing time. I blame daylight savings time's end. I mean, I guess I do. I don't really know. NOBODY KNOWS. Well, Keanu Reeves might.

Seriously. I feel like I'm just trying to get up after getting the shit stomped out of me. I'm misspelling words left and right, there's no flow developing just yet, Hugo Weaving won't return my calls, and I don't even have one of those snazzy long coats.

I... I was going to include a picture of Agent Smith looking threatening with a caption of, "Why, Mr. Cameron? Why do you persist in calling me, even when I don't return your calls?  Why do you do it? Why pick up? Why keep calling? Do you believe you're calling for something? For more than your amusement? Can you tell me what it is? Do you even know? Is it for dinner? Or drinks? Perhaps to come and watch the big game? Yes? No? Could it be for help moving? Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. The temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify a blog that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself, although only a human mind could invent something as insipid as this blog. You must be able to see it, Mr. Cameron. You must know it by now. You can't win. It's pointless to keep calling. Why, Mr. Cameron? Why? Why do you persist?" And then maybe I'd follow it up with something more impressive than lifting a quote from IMDB and switching the words around a little bit and basically just plagiarizing that whole speech for my blog and being a general dick about it.

But then I found something better. Something I hadn't expected. See, in April, GE launched a new medical devices campaign about how they help communication in hospitals. Here's what they came up with.

Yes, I know. I've been going downright video crazy the past few nights. (I only wish that their dialog fed into my word counts, because then all of this would just be a whole lot easier. I can only hope I got a hundred or so from the Matrix quote, AKA cheating, because this is and has been a rough one).

On the one hand, I'm not sure what GE was going for here. The Matrix hasn't been the big thing since 2004 at the latest. Bigger movies with better effects and plots have been made. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy The Matrix a whole lot. I actually think Keanu is a better actor than people give him credit for. Plus, when you hear about how nice of a person he apparently is, you want to give him a hug. Sometimes he looks like he really needs it.

When he's not laughing at our puny "mortality," at least.

And they went with Agent Smith? They actively tried to have a bad guy promote their product? We have enough people out there who are paranoid about the medical device clauses in the ACA Affordable Care Act (word count, suckaz!) because they don't understand what a pacemaker is and why it might be problematic to get a defective batch of them.

But, at the same time, Hugo Weaving! He's Hugo Weaving! Priscilla! V! Megatron! The Red Skull! Elrond!

Okay, he's pretty much universally intimidating (except MAYBE when he's Priscilla, but doesn't he win a few bar fights in that? Plus, he's Australian, and you don't fuck with them. They have Australia on their side, and it doesn't have to put up with your shit.). But when he's Elrond, maybe he gets to share screen time with Lee Pace, who is adorable.

I DON'T CARE THAT IT'S FICTION, IT'S ADORABLE AND THERE IS PIE. YOU CANNOT COMPETE WITH THIS.

Maybe he doesn't, though. I haven't seen the first Hobbit movie. I might be a bit scarred from our four-scene high school production of it, which actually wasn't TOO far fetched for the first three (okay, two and a half) scenes. Then the elves saved them from the goblins (NO) and Bilbo killed Smaug (NO NO NO) because, see, Smaug wasn't eating him because he had a toothache (WHAT NO), and Bilbo convinced him that he was a dentist.

Hold on.

Wait for it.

PATIENCE.

Wait for it...

You might not have guessed, but he's saying, "No," repeatedly. (I think.)

I mean, I'm a little bitter, because I would have been a freaking stellar Gollum. My audition consisted of alternating between creepy old dude and six year old girl. That could have been chilling (or just fucking stupid), but I lost out to a guy who could do a decent Andy Serkis impersonation. I hear he was hell to work with in the show. Tons of respect for most of the cast, though- they just had a shitty script to work with. Also, it was high school, so there's not much to be done. Plus, I got to do quiz bowl and Model UN (which led to the Today Show incident), so I think I came out pretty firmly ahead.

Okay. I should probably pack it in (because, depending on how wordy I can make this last bit, I think I can cruise right past the word limit. Coast would probably be a better word, though. See how it's done?), because I need to make eggs in the morning. Yeah, you thought I was kidding about all the eggs.

If only you were here, Gaston.