Fucking terrifying.

2) Like anyone 30 or older who paid attention to anything ever, if the screen doesn’t say “TEST” somewhere, the only logical conclusion to make is that the Russians dropped a bomb somewhere.

For the first time since I can remember, the EAS got my attention tonight.
Fix your fucking graphics, Channel 7.

3) Based on the number of hits I get on the Channel 7 articles, I should just turn this site in to strange aspy observations about what’s on that channel, and only that channel.

More later.

Until then:

This is only the beginning.

So, I guess a few people will notice that the page looks a little different right now.

It’s only temporary.

It looked like someone might have rolled it in ash.

Upon further investigation, I discovered it was covered in more maggots than I’ve ever seen in one place.

No fucking way am I touching that.

Tomorrow, I think I’ll need to douse it in gasoline and set it ablaze, unless they have the good sense to turn in to flies and go away before I get home from work.

Local ordinances be damned. This is the only way I can purify my driveway.

Update:

Apparently, there are two schools of thought on getting rid of them in such a way that the police and / or fire department won’t pay me a visit.

The first is to boil water, mix bleach and Pine Sol in to the boiling water, and throw it on the maggots. Because cleaning up boiled maggots soaked in bleach and Pine Sol is less gross than using my ShopVac and hoping they starve.

The other is to use pesticide. I’ve got a bunch of that around, and I’ll give it a shot. Thing is, the boiled concoction proponents say pesticide doesn’t work at all.

I’m posting about watching it.

Hopefully, this will create a ripple in the universe, which stops people from using “blog” as a verb. Or is it adverb?

And in this commercial, the audience is all Mini Wheats, which made me think “This fucking fight is so fixed. That’s not fair to the Cheerio.”

No. Not in an observational or remotely funny way. I legitimately felt bad for the Cheerio for a good four seconds.

More to come…

This fucking thing crashes constantly.

All I ask, is that you pay attention to the road, and at least try to use your fucking turn signal.

So, when you know that this two-lane road is going to become one lane after this light, don’t fool yourself in to believing that your Suburban is a drag racing machine. And don’t think that I won’t run you off of the road sooner than let you in. And don’t get pissy with your brights when that’s happened.

And don’t ever get out of your car. I’m bitchy enough with zero Coke and 50% less nicotine, and I’m on my way to the gym.

Behold: