The Smokies: Dark and Gloomy Edition (Read It Anyway)
May 30, 2010 in The Smokie Awards
It’s been a morose week, my friends. We started with an execution and while recovering from that, we plunged right into the topics of sociopathic murders, sexual assaults, draconian anti-abortion laws, deceased toddlers, gym rudeness and celebrity deaths. Given the dark nature of this week’s smorgasbord, I couldn’t blame any of you if just went into a gloomy emo shell and wrote death poetry in the comments. You all could have just written, “why bother” every time a new post was listed, just because you were so focused on the subject matter and not the actual content of the articles.
I should like Bill Maher. His political leanings and points of view probably match my own, but I don’t find him funny usually. I recently watched his HBO special and laughed about twice. In an hour. That can’t be good, can it? I don’t know where the disconnect is, and I can’t be bothered to analyze it too much because it’s Sunday and I should be in bed. It’s just – the HBO special was like shooting fish in a barrel. And I think he comes across as just too smug for my liking. Always. Yeah. I think it’s the “smug”.
It’s not even Memorial Day (whatever that is) and I’ve yet to put on my Summer footwear (wellington boots – I’m Scottish) but already the celebrities are dropping like onions from a Frenchman’s light aircraft and dying left, right and maybe center. First Death itself came for little Gary Coleman, and now he’s biking off into the sunset with the recently late Dennis Hopper. Previous to this, Death knocked on the door of Bret Michaels, but Bret hid behind the sofa and pretended he wasn’t in. Now I ask – who’s next?
It’s that time again. Yes, it’s time again to remind you that it’s time again to do some literary binging and purging in the that literary gluttony of a contest known as the Micro-Fiction Roundup. I always thought gluttony was the least serious of the seven deadly sins, and certainly the second or third most delicious, behind lust and then alternately sloth and wrath. Angry words can taste so good on the tongue. And I needn’t explain why lust is the most delicious of sins. This is Wordsmoker, after all. 
I know he had his recent troubles, which were well publicized, but I grew up with Diff’rent Strokes, and well, this shit just dumped me. To me, he was always one of those people in showbusiness you secretly wished would get his life sorted out, a new show or something that didn’t demean him in some bullshit post-modern faux-reality manner. Anyway – he died about 30 minutes ago, life support was switched off. He hadn’t regained consciousness after suffering an intracranial hemorrhage from a fall earlier this week.
OMG guys!
Urgh. I’m ill today, and because I’m a male it’s even worse for me. Other males will agree. I’ve been lying in bed (surprise) with a hot water bottle at my tummy (sexy) listening to early Ricky Gervais radio shows on my headphones, ignoring the cats and moaning occasionally (again – sexy).
by VirusWithShoes
Smokin’ Comment – BeRightBack On The Wookie Vote Special Caption Thing
May 28, 2010 in Smokin' Comments
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