Well, not so much a slacker, as I am absurdly busy at work, but potato, potahto, and all that.
I don’t know what the coming week holds, so I’ll just try to cram a whole mess o’ crap into this post, in the event that this week is also a busy one.
Happy Mother’s Day to all my fellow moms! My (first) Mother's Day was fantastic; I had a leisurely morning, and was served my favorite breakfast (a toasted salt bagel with cream cheese, in case you were curious. Which you undoubtedly are not. Nor can I blame you). We then saw our families, and I was the grateful recipient of a kickass gift from Toopweets: A day at this spa, which will involve a massage, a facial, and other stuff, but I was too busy dancing the Cabbage Patch at the thought of my much-needed massage to focus on the other stuff. My back is busted, people. Thank you, Toops (and J)!
I was reading the New York Times Magazine yesterday, and came across an interesting article, the basic point of which is that living in the age of blogs, MySpace, and YouTube is changing the way that new musicians attract and expand their fan base. I found the whole piece fascinating, but the thing that most excited me (out of the entire, well-written, comprehensive article) was this sentence right here:
“The first hit was an improbable cover song: [The musician’s] deadpan version of the 1992 Sir Mix-a-Lot rap song ‘Baby Got Back,’ performed like a hippie folk ballad.”
The internet altering how musicians find and subsequently interact with fans? A veritable sea change in the theory of music promotion? And perhaps, a shift in the concept of how a musician can actually find success?
Trifles, I say! Bring on the funny song! (And indeed, it is funny.)
Finally, I realized that I haven’t reviewed any products in a while, and I actually have a negative review. Personally, I always find those infinitely more entertaining, as evidenced by The New York Post’s scathing and utterly hilarious review of Ms. Lohan's new movie, entitled, “It Blohans.” (If you think that I do not plan on using that phrase to describe even the most tangential of Lindsay-related situations going forward, then you are giving me entirely too much credit.)
Do not be fooled.
Now, I’m a big fan of both lip balm and honey. But I must say, I’ve never before wanted to actually hurl from a lip balm, and I am someone who has experienced morning sickness the likes of which were triggered by even THINKING about the smell of shampoo. But...sweet bastard! The flavor and scent of this…thing is just ungodly. I've yet to encounter anything else like it. So far, I’ve detected a profusion of offensive odors in the balm, which are as follows:
~ Funeral home
~ Old, moldy ass
~ The industrial-strength air freshener that they spray after someone tosses their cookies on an indoor roller coaster/virtual reality ride. (This totally happened to me. Well, I wasn’t the culprit, but I was on the ride where it happened. Trust me, that stench will stick with you for a lifetime.)
~ Forgotten gym bag
And, finally, begrudgingly…
~ Honey (Albeit honey which was unearthed after being trapped in the manifold crevices of a Kodiak bear’s nether regions prior to him settling in for hibernation. That honey, and that honey alone.)
Please note: I’ve tried another flavor from this brand (i.e., peach), which was absolutely fine; it’s just this one that you should avoid. Although? I secretly want you to go to the store (it’s carried at Bath& Body Works) and smell it, just so you can see what I’m talking about.I’m kidding, of course.