Getting my inaug on

As bragged about in a previous post, G and I made it to the inauguration on Tuesday, and I would be remiss if I didn't at least acknowledge the mission was accomplished.  Some things I thought were interesting:

• Being in massive crowds without loud music or tailgates and kegs is slightly unsettling.
  
• The mayor of DC organizes this thing, and frankly, should have consulted me on a few matters.  (e.g. Lack of signage, providing trash receptacles, etc.)
  
• Al Sharpton attended amongst us plebes, so it turns out insulting the guy on live t.v. did not, in fact, pay off. 
  
• At least one person alive still knows how to fire a cannon.
  

Sorry

but I love this skit from last week's SNL more than House marathons.  

Afterbirth, Facebook

I am not sure if I were a parent that there would be pictures of my kids posted on Facebook, but I guess there's no reason 0-4 year olds should be the only population not on and dweebing it up.  Last week I learned the hard way that one of my fb friendsies probably would not have cared either way what my opinion was, since she went ahead and posted pictures of herself with her girlfriend after their home water delivery, visibly sitting in a pool of the afterbirth and holding the child.  (Successfully proving nothing is sacred and very little is sanitary.)  I desperately do not want to know how they got the water out of the blow-up pool but I'm positive it will be detailed in my fb home feed any minute now. Though I have to admit, this did put an end to all my complaints about facebook being totally boring.

Who didn't think of that?

In college, Sarah Jane and I were going to solve our lack of career inspiration crisis by committing ourselves wholly to the creation of a t.v. show called Who didn't think of that?  Our first episode was going to be about the Kit Kat Big Kats, which had just been invented.  (Really?  It took that long Hersheys?)  The show was going to be a smash hit until, for some reason, we let it fall to the wayside.  (I have a poor man's patent sitting around here somewhere, so don't even think about it.)  

The other day I stumbled upon the perfect subject for episode 2 in a book at the moma store.  Cue up your tivo - I'm getting out the camcorder.

    

Inspirational programming, please

At this point, I'm resorting to daytime tv to inspire me to get cracking on my resume and start applying for jobs, as thus far I have done little more than carry my resume from my bed to my desk and vice versa.  (Maybe if I put it under my pillow?...)  The fact that the Big Three (Erica, Tad, Joe) on AMC may be meeting their maker (Agnes) doesn't help much.  Perhaps if ABC Family were on season 8 of Gilmore Girls (when Paris implements the white boards) I could get a little more from them, but I have five seasons between now and then.  

So instead of tuning into ABCFamily.com for a kick in the pants, I watched the History Channel's special on Nostradamus last night.  Which, oddly enough, didn't end up being the pep talk I was looking for.  It turns out, unless we put our heads together to save the honeybees, we're all going to die on Dec 10, 2012.  Something tells me the honeybees don't care which font I pick to detail my employment history.  (As a side note, half way into the show there was an ad for selling your timeshares, which I thought was pretty much completely brilliant.  Maybe there's a glimmer there?)

Oh my god, Lauer's doing a segment called "Managing What's Left" right now.  I'm going to fold my underwear.   

Ted Theo

This is my mom's corgi and my favorite photo of 2008, even if it didn't make the Today Show finals.  Just check out those gluts.  Plus, this little guy can solve any of your puzzle piece disappearance needs in under two seconds. What's not to love??

The only time it's appropriate to pull out your camera in a public restroom

In just another example of how fat cats are affecting america's (or at least my) buzz these days, I went to the bathroom at Boss Tweed's the other night and found the sink in the loo to be too, too rich.  As you can see, even the duct tape has had enough.  One errant sneeze and rusty water was bound to shoot straight at my crotch.  After laughing alone in the bathroom for ten minutes, I managed to steady my hand long enough to snap a shot.