I must be slipping…shit

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I only pulled an “R” rating, based on the words “dead,” “bitch” and “hell.”

I will therefore now recite the Lovett Cheer, from my old college days. That ought to raise the bar a bit.

The text is shrunken down, for the kids’ sake, you know?

Cock suck, mother fuck, eat a bag of shit.
Cunt hair, douche bag, suck your mother’s tit.
We are the best college, all the others suck.
Edgar Odell Lovett, rah rah fuck!

According to the Wikipedia post, this is Rice’s “only officially University-banned cheer.” What the fuck’s up with that?

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No minors allowed in this blog

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Apparently I have enough references to death and sex in here to merit an “R” rating. Dang, I was hoping for an “NC-17.” Alas.

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Honestly, does the world need this?

I’m never one to stifle the creative or expressive urges of another, but does the world really need a blog entirely devoted to explaining Marmaduke comic strips?

I suppose the answer is yes. As of today, there are 244 posts.

Perhaps I’ll start a blog dedicated to that 1980’s paragon of fucked-uppedness, Arnold:

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What blogs are for

Ever since I started writing here, I’ve been wondering exactly what the hell I’m doing. While at times it is very cathartic to get things off my chest, I sometimes wonder if this isn’t just getting me even more keyed up. A post from Glenn Greenwald at Salon helped put some things in perspective for me:

The point here — as always — is to try to force the media to write about the stories it covers in a more critical and factual manner, to compel them to abandon the cheap and lazy cliches that otherwise frame everything they write. That is one of the most critical functions of blogs, and it is one of the goals that is realistically attainable by bloggers and their readers working together.

I have no illusions that anyone in the mainstream media pays any attention whatsoever to this blog, but someone out there is reading it (I think), so at least I’m getting to put my own warped take on things out there in the stream of consciousness. I will not stop until I have wiped out idiocy in its entirety. Or until I come up with something better to do.

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