Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Because Josh Did It and I'm Fucking Unoriginal

Taking a note from Josh's blog, these are the first few sentences from the first post of each month in the past year.

January: Here's to You Canada Sue
Boss lady Heather calls me yesterday to tell me that the Flores article with my name on it was the third most read article on National Geographic's news site all year. Yay and all, but the real credit must go to an intrepid little intern whom I call Canada Sue. Of course, I'm still in the byline, so hey.
February: No, It's Not Cold in Here — That's You Dying
We motored down to LA to see Sarah Silverman perform at a comedy place last night. I enjoy how trashy Hollywood is, because anybody who doesn't know better always associates Hollywood with southern California glamor. And Vine Street is pretty scummy. And the venue, which was just called "M," was in a strip mall. Yes, we went to a show in a strip mall on Vine.
March: Super Poochio Bros.
Dear Nintendo,

I love you. Always have, always will. But you're so fucking weird.

Concerned,
Drew
April: The Season of SPF 45
Drew and fellow Nexites Dina, Lu and Lauren hopped in the Silver Bullet and motored up to Santa Maria to interview some of the loyal Michael Jackson supporters who stand outside the courthouse. It's for a five-part series I'd like to see called "Whacko for Jacko." A late start, faulty directions and a fundamental misunderstanding of Santa Maria courtroom proceedings, however, have relegated us to returning on Monday to witness the Moonwalk March — a parade protesting what I suppose is the injustice being done to Michael Jackson but what would actually seem to be the process of justice. He is, after all, still a free man — just a free man who has to spend the day at his trial. (Like he had anything else better to do.)
May: Meet Me at the Big Dragonfly
Hipster sweat, it turns out, does smell worse than normal sweat. Defying logic and my vow of "I'm never fucking doing that I again," I went to Coachella last weekend, hence the slight twinge of color in my face, hence my depleted bank account and hence the lack of real posts lately. (Three days to go to the concert and come back, plus one day to sleep off the concert hangover and another to catch up on all the work that didn't get done while I baked in the desert like a biscuit for a good forty-eight hours.)
June: Goo Beth
I broke my promise, sure. But this is too good. Dan Savage, sex columnist for The Onion and a pervy know-it-all who blasts Beth, Kate and Dave out of the semen-stained water, has decided to link Rick Santorum's name with a sexual by-product in order to besmirch the senator's reputation.
July: The POW Box
So how do you condense four days into a handful of brief, waking hours? You go to San Francisco. That's what I did, anyway. Since I got back from the city, I've been dead, more or less. I'm tired. I'm cold and hot, alternately. I'm dizzy. And I'm suffering from the unreasonable fear that I'll turn my upper torso too sharply and snap my spine off from my tailbone.
August: "One Toot on This Whistle..."
Someone got to this blog today by searching the phrase "planting a skittles tree." Turns out this is the only site within the wide-sweeping gaze of Google to include such a phrase. I'm honored, frankly.
September: A Bifurcated Kentucky Colonel
It's amazingly easy to donate money to Hurricane Katrina relief. I rarely push charity on people, but please keep in mind that it would much better karma-wise to just give ten bucks or so to people who really need it rather than spending it on alcohol that you would drink by yourself to escape your problems. Wretch.
October: Color With Remarkable Leg Power
Just in: The word "puce" — meaning a grayish-purple color — literally means "flea-colored." As in, "Your purse is the loveliest shade of flea-color I've ever seen! I adore flea-color!" I couldn't imagine why fleas got their own color name as opposed to, say, any other worthwhile animal.
November: This Is Kids' Stuff
I'm always surprised at what this blog can be. To me, it's generally a forum for the voices in my head — something funny or trivial or the latest cinematic production from Lier X. Aggregate. Since I decided to approve comments, it's become a way for my friends to share this, to some extent, or to call me on my bullshit. And for the creepos with nothing in their lives besides a keyboard, a monitor and a cable modem, this blog serves as a way for them to peer into the life of a total stranger.
December: Richard Grieco Is My New Landlord
Normally, I like to keep this blog as busy as possible. Looking at the previous entry, I realize that I have not written in nearly two weeks. For this, I’m sorry, but I feel my current circumstances are a pretty good excuse.

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