Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go out ‘candle in the wind’ style:

UPDATE: This is totally me.

I totally thought this was going to be the b.y.e./bee’s knees.

P.S. I’m relocating the blog soon.  Don’t know how I should announce it (I’m thinking a publicity stunt involving a 15-year-old celebrity and some risqué photos).

Anyway, it basically got us talking about how if the timing were different, the whole chain of procreation would have been affected. She’d probably still have a kid sitting next to her in the car, but it mostly likely wouldn’t be your Jackness.

Here’s where she’s wrong. There was no chance I was not making it out of that chick for the following reasons: I’m a survivor, I’m a strong swimmer, I’m not gonna give up, I’m competitive, I’m not gonna stop, I believe in synergy, I’m gonna work harder, and finally, I’m a survivor I’m gonna make it I will survive keep on survivin’.

For some reason she needed further clarification so I said, “Ann, let’s put it this way — I’m the cream of the crop.”

I am a media sponge. Normally I just soak in trashy reality shows — like Your Mama Don’t Dance, Bill Moyers Journal, and The NewsHour With Jim Lehrer — but you can’t help hearing about the economy, Bush’s cycle of sucking/record low approval ratings, the never-ending Democratic race as John McNeardeath gains supporters, climate change, boycotting Beijing, possible actors strike, STAR JONES’S MARRIAGE ENDING, etc.

You can’t escape it. When I eat my meals, alone, at Subway, it’s supposed to be a respite. But no. Because there’s a TV, I get to hear about double-digit shootings, unseasonal weather, and trains flying into people in the very city where I eat my sweet onion chicken teriyaki on Italian with a side Sun Chips and without friends.

And it doesn’t end there. Now they’re* saying that the internet will reach it’s capacity in 2010 and, you know, end like A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila season 1 (heterosexually). Still, I guess I’m lucky it’s 2008 because I won’t even have an outlet for complaining about bad news in 2010.

*Probably the same people who are behind all of the catastrophes in the second paragraph (‘cept the Star Jones thing… that dude was just straight up gay).

I’m going to be really t.o.-ed if this turns out to be some elaborate marketing scheme for the film, 21.  It would still be less annoying than the one for Forgetting Sarah Marshall.  (O.K. you got me, I like it.)

2.  I would LOVE to have a job in Product Name Development or something at a generic brand like Market Pantry.  Seriously, “Thin Wheats”?  “Rippled” potato chips?  I’ve heard of passive aggressive before but not passive competitive.  See, even that’s a slightly tweaked version of the original!

¡Uno! According to this Flickr group, commuting can be an art. So I guess the next time I’m bothered by drunken Cubs fans on the 9:40 MDW I should just turn them into art! Preliminary research question: is pouring paper-maché into peoples’ exposed orifices illegal?  I’ll just say it’s a new flavor of Sparks.

¡Dos! Yahoo! (¡Yahoo!) has an article on its front page about how egg consumption poses health risks for diabetic men. However, they start it off pretty broad to whisk everyone in**: “A new study suggests that consuming more than six eggs a week seems to raise the risk of dying from all causes.” Okay, but what about starvation? Seriously though, this is life changing news. As long as I keep my egg ingestion to 6 or less I can reduce my risk of dying from the Bubonic plague, drowning, homicide, a broken heart, a construction worker’s falling lunch pail, Lou Gehrig’s disease, syphilis, getting raped by a horse, etc. ¡¡¡Today is the first day of the rest of my life!!!

*Hey, do you think that the tragic and sprawling movie Babel was really about AltaVista? Think about it.

**A bad egg pun that ends with a preposition is better than no egg pun at all.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go watch True Life: I’m Happy to be Fat as I work out.