Why Oh Why Is My Cat Dead; Couldn't That Chrysler Hit Me Instead?

Look at what a baby I am. All this talk about race and religion, politics, Christianity, wah wah wah. I might as well try to find some old high school poetry for all the maudlin claptrap I've dumped on loyal visitors.

The intertubes are for funny... and porn. But you'll have to take care of the latter on your own time.

Since I've been a bit of a baby lately, here are some links to make up for all manner of self indulgent harping.

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With the exception of Garfield, Mark Trail, Cathy and Apartment 3-G, there's really no reason to turn to the comics section of a newspaper. I can't remember if I've already linked this... Anyway, one Joe Mathlete, explains Marmaduke for us. Now I get it.

Narrative Theology: God Inc.

Somehow, this is related to my Private Easter.


If you have a half hour to kill, spend it watching The Mighty Boosh. It's a BBC Three show that will make you wonder what we're so afraid of that all we can manage are game shows of one sort or another. I mean, TV doesn't have to be oppressively stupid to be an opiate.

And speaking of lame high school poetry, this- The Mountain Goats are a lame indie band (one guy really) that I used to be into back in the time when I thought anyone that recorded on anything more sophisticated than a four track and didn't release their lo fi static on 7 inch singles was a sell out. (Not that that's all I listened to- I was a big Smiths fag back then. I just had to categorize bands by whether they were sell outs.)

I happened across this video in my interweb youtubes journey and was taken back to a time when I was just as lame as I am today- only a different kind of lame.

The internets are nothing if their not for making you feel shame every now and then too.

So funny, porn, and shame.