Hi everyone. Did you have a good weekend? Good. Oh, me? Well, it was interesting. Here’s what I learned this weekend:
1) Patrick Stump’s fans will stop at nothing to let you know that his mom is named Pat, and as such he absolutely HATES being called PAT. Calling Patrick ‘Pat’ makes his fans cringe.
2) Having any sort of empathy at all for another human being and perhaps offering a little bit of haphazard, stream of consciousness advice makes you either a total pussy, a super righteous no-nonsense, tell-it-like-it-is sassy fat black woman wrapped in a no-bullshit gay best friend, or (and this is the one that people in ‘journalism’ seemed to pick up on for some reason) a staunch defender. From whom I was defending Patrick Stump, I can’t say, since he was just talking about his own malaise, but as I’ve said time and time again, journalists (especially journalists who are so low on the scale as to have to scour the blogs of bottom feeding hasbeens like myself for ‘news’) are at best lazy and at worst incompetently vindictive. I don’t know how you defend someone by talking directly to them, but then again, I’m not a journalist either so, what the fuck are you gonna do? Anyway, moving on.
3) I, personally, need to keep my mouth shut about things I don’t know anything about. I’ve been getting told this for years, but I think it’s finally starting to sink in.
4) my ‘personality’ is grating and annoying and really, truly interferes with peoples’ ability to enjoy my (shitty/awesome-but-hard-to-stomach) musical output.
5) Writing timely rants about hometown celebrities at their most vulnerable is a surefire way to get more traffic to your shitty blog than ever before.
6) the color scheme here is absolutely unbearable, but it may just be like that on purpose.
7) Pinkeye is not nearly so contagious as the legends would have you believe (this had nothing to do with Stumpgate and everything to do with my daughter getting pinkeye on Friday night)
8) There is something called Fall Out Boy: Indonesia and its dedication to getting the very most up to the minute and important Fall Out Boy news is second to no other Fall Out Boy based Indonesian news outlet.
9) Friday was apparently a very slow news day overall.
10) Sansa’s eagerness to please her betrothed is almost certain to be the undoing of her entire house.
11) The people at Alternative Press, in a wonderful display of good taste gave my new record (I’d Rather Die Than Live Forever [order it here!]), which comes out on Red Scare on March 27th a 9/10.
12) the only place in Chicago that I could find to buy a copy of the new Alternative Press was the Dominick’s on Lincoln and Foster
13) The Jewell over on Belmont and Western has vastly more expensive produce than the Jewell on Lincoln near Montrose.
14) I should really shut up.
15) I should never shut up
16) I’m a self serving asshole who is only trying to network with Patrick Stump and my methodology is entirely transparent
17) I’m a fucking retard
18) Paste is really delicious.
19) I’m ugly (ha! Unlikely! Have you seen me? I’m a fucking bronze god wrapped in a flaming hot cock!)
Okay, you get the idea. It was a big weekend here at BSC international HQ. Because of the confluence of a timely piece about Patrick (see what I did there?) Stump’s recent blog entry and absolutely nothing else in the world going on, I was, for a brief moment, in the public eye like I haven’t been since that time I got caught drying my baby off in the microwave. It was an eye opening experience. Responses to me and my dickslapping erudition (mostly from people who didn’t have any idea who I was 4 days ago) ranged from outrage to effusive praise. People who ostensibly have jobs based, at least in part, on their reading comprehension abilities, tended to miss the point entirely (though that’s not really that unusual, as I stated above) and in general the whole thing was a lot like walking a virtual red carpet in my underpants from behind my computer. I cannot imagine what the life of someone who people actually give a shit about is like. Seems like a fucking hassle to me. Good grief. Maybe that’s why I write such repellant music and conduct myself with such ribald, grating uncouth. Keeps me off the radar.
Anyway, it’s funny. If someone was a Patrick Stump fan, they tended to fall into two categories regarding how they felt about me w/r/t Friday’s entry: 1) I’m great for writing it or 2) I’m a parasitic shithead who doesn’t have any fucking idea what I’m talking about (for the record, I agree with both positions here). If someone was NOT a Patrick Stump fan, the reactions were split along these lines: 1) Why the fuck are you writing about the guy from Fall Out Boy? Or 2) Fuck both of these dipshits.
Finally, this weekend someone got to this blog by google searching “how do I hide from my partner herpes” which is fucked up. BUT, since you’re here, here’s what you do: take peanut butter (smooth, not chunky) and leave it unrefrigerated until it’s nice and spreadable. If you’ve got a natural peanut butter that separates, you’re gonna want to stir it up. Next, apply it to the shaft and balls of your dick in a smooth, uniform layer until your outbreak is completely invisible. When questioned about the smell/texture/color differences that you’re bound to experience, tell your partner you’ve read that covering your dick in peanut butter is an ancient tantric thing that supposedly makes everything fire at like 600%. When your partner eventually gets herpes and (assuming they’re not a complete asshole like you are) comes to you about it, well, no need to hide ‘em anymore, right? Show them this post and laugh about the whole thing over a hot, burny and careful bone sesh.
Happy Monday, kids. Be careful out there!