January 03, 2003

You know when a person you hate likes your favorite song? Yea, I got a Google hit tonight that reminded me of that feeling. So revolting (and poorly spelled, at that) I won't even link it or mention it for comic effect. Ugh. I don't want you looking at my site, person who likes...that. How do you even turn on the computer?

Of course, maybe this is karmaic revenge for running the Herpes Hit-A-Thon. (Fifty herpes-related hits by the end of January, remember?) You want to get hits with something gross? Here, how about THE GROSSEST THING EVER.

In other news, I've gotten seven HERPES HERPES hits since the beginning of the 'Thon. That shit is just as contagious on New Year's Eve as any other time, people.


In other other news, if this picture is any indication, a girl with very pretty eyes permalinked me today. Wasn't that sweet?


And to continue tonight's theme of bloggers-blogging-about-blogging, a long time ago (can't find the link in the ol' archives because I'm lazy) I said it was my mission to get all my friends blogging. Alecia was probably the first to take me up on the offer, and has definitely been the most successful, if blog success is defined by permalinks and hits. She doesn't have a hitcounter, but if she did it would probably double mine, easy.

The Reason? Glad you asked. Hot, Smart, and Funny will get you almost everywhere in life, and the blogosphere is absolutely no exception. Need proof? Look at Madpony. Look at Cliff Yablonski. Look at this. H-O-T spells S-U-C-C-E-S-S, which sort of seems spelled wrong in the first place.

I, for one, am proud of her. She used to write hilarious things on Free Open Diary, and then not update for months. Killed me, it did. But it turns out all she needed to become a prolific web-publisher was the remote adulation of countless legions of weirdos with nothing better to do. (Although, in the case of The Ward, weirdos with bitchin' web design skills and funny posts.)

Meanwhile, we here at Ham Fisted Theatrics are still looking for someone willing to trade Hot for some old sweaters and Elvis Costello's "Imperial Bedroom", which I got for Christmas and really am not all that fond of. Hot is the final key to blog success we just can't seem to find. We can only be so witty and have SO many pictures of Norm from Cheers, here, people.


I REALLY only care about sports four or five times a year, but I'd like to think I pick important times to do so. Tonight was one of those times.

I used to be a huge, HUGE ASU football fan. The Piersons have been season ticket holders since God was knee-high to some larger more imposing god, and my dad and I used to go to all the games. He still does, in nicer seats, usually accompanied by my stepmom and little brother. But there was a time when every Saturday night was spent rooting on the maroon and gold. The highlight of that period was the 1997 Rose Bowl.

"You want to go?" my dad said.

I laughed it off.

"No, really." And so we did, after an all-night roadtrip to Pasadena, and trips to both Del Taco and In-and-Out-Burger (California delicacies at the time which have since become hometown late-night staple foods.) It was glorious. Exciting up until the very last second. It was the last time Jake Plummer every impressed anyone on the field. It was also a heartbreaking defeat for the Sun Devils, and the party responsible was the Iowa State Buckeyes. And oh, how I hated them.

Tonight, I buried the hatchet. I said, Buckeyes, I feel bad for ya. Everyone says you're going to be crushed by the juggernaut that is Miami. I have never been crushed by a juggernaut of any kind, but I imagine it sucks a heck of a lot. Even the word "juggernaut" sends me running from the room yelling "Don't crush me!" Pops says it's important to root for the underdog.

So, Ohio State, when the big black guy in Miami garb started hooting and running around the sports bar tonight, prompted by some first-quarter finesse from the Hurricanes, I felt it necessary to holler "Flag on the play!" even when there wasn't one. And when you snagged couple of absolutely unbelievable interceptions, I revelled in your triumph. I watched as you took it to the next level, gave a hundred and ten percent, and every other sports cliche in the book, and I said "Why not take it to a level after this one? Why not give a hundred and FIFTEEN percent?" And when ABC's cameras showed us a couple of stunning co-eds in red caught up in the drama of the fourth quarter, I felt the overwhelming urge to find out about application requirements for Ohio State University. I believed in you, Buckeyes.

And you came through for me, and possibly also for the millions of people who actually followed your season and know the names of your players. You didn't get crushed by the juggernaut. You did whatever it is one does when one is not crushed by a juggernaut, but instead rises to its challenge and beats it in double overtime. So, from the heart of a boy who often couldn't care less about sports and who's not quite sure what the rule on pass interference is, thank you.

Got a checking account today.

Monumental, I know. But you have to understand that up until this point, my most complex savings system consisted of a Spam can full of pay-stubs and the occasional bill of large denomination. I would've gotten a bank account earlier, but you have to be eighteen to open one, and I didn't want to drag a parent the whole block and a half to the bank inside Fry's. I don't actually plan to use the checks, but having an ATM card is nice. Hopefully it will provide more net gains than Spam-Can-Full-Of-Twenties, which I always suspected didn't pay out any actual interest.

This officially counts as my entry until the world of High Finance. My next moves are converting all my liquid assets into Fabrege eggs, subscribing to Rocket-Yacht Enthusiast, buying two third-world countries on the eastern coast of Africa, placing titanic amounts of high explosives along their borders, detonating it, and seeing which one collides with Australia. Wagers will be placed by myself and other multi-trillionaires. I'm thinking Entrea and Djibouti, which I had not heard of until seeing this map just now. Three railroads and an orphanage on Djibouti. It looks way more aerodynamic.

I have to work at seven tomorrow. After I win the Collide-With-Australia I am SO quitting my job.

Posted by DC at January 3, 2003 11:23 PM
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