The helmet to protect people you don't really love (link from BoingBoing).
Yes, this blog has degenerated into a collection of links I find on other blogs.
Degenerated? More like evolved. Hooooo!
Shut up. I created you. I can destroy you.
Destroy me? You can't even find your car keys. Besides, I'm a manifestation of your psyche. An incorporeal being, unlike your ear hair. How are you going to destroy me, drive a spike through my brain?
I could watch four hours of VH1's "I Love The 80s" where a bunch of C-list comics make fun of D-list musicians and actors from the 80s who used to be considered B-list artists and are now remembered for a few A-list works, the relevancy to their own lives of which is lost on the C-list comics whose stand-up acts consist of popping a few pills of E before going to stage to tell F-laden jokes about the difficulties of finding a woman's G-spot that will go over crowds five years from now like an H-bomb, if the comics are lucky enough to be shown on "I Love The 00s".
Okay. I'll be good.
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