Enough! Enough! Enough!

Enough with the meme's already! I don't give a shit what you have under your bed, whether you wear boxers or briefs, or if you lost your virginity on the 2nd floor of Alpha Sig in 1983.

Don't we do enough navel gazing as it is? Isn't the fact that we are out in the blogosphere evidence of our INCREDIBLE self-absorption to begin with? I mean, really, folks, few and far between are the blogs worth reading. Come on, even this. Most of this is nothing but morning-papers-level crap with the occasional funny thing thrown in. And I mean most blogs just suuuuuuuuuuck out there. Have you ever clicked on the "next blogs" button on the blogger homepage? We are the most narcissistic bunch of buttmunches on the freakin' planet, completely self-referential and we think that other people out there in the blogosphere are interested in what we have to say.

Here's what people are interested in reading about in other people's blogs:

- saying funny but incredibly mean things about George Bush's idiocy.
- sex.

Maybe I'll go back to writing about sex. At least it was fun to read, though a few of my friends mentioned that it did make them a little squeamish. File under: Things You Never Wanted to Know, i.e. the ingredients of hot dogs, your parent's favorite position, and the details of Janey's sex life.

But I have say, I never want to see another blog about:

- your new fucking baby. YOU HAD A BABY. You didn't invent childbirth. Kathie Lee Gifford invented childbirth.
- your new fucking house. YOU BOUGHT A HOUSE. Yeah, so did I once, and you know what? If a bank is willing to give ME money for a mortgage without making me give a hand job to the loan officer, then pretty much anyone in the world can get a mortgage.

Of course, my friends are exempt from this crankiness because everything they write is fascinating and creative and hilarious as shit. (it's okay, you guys can pay me later)

Oh. And Archer. He's just the funniest blogger I know. Plus, I'm shamelessly trying to butter him up to leave his wife and marry me.

You know what?

Having done the rants here, I actually feel a little better.

Go Home and Watch Project Runway Better.