Alarming News: I like Morgan Freeberg. A lot.
American Digest: And I like this from "The Blog That Nobody Reads", because it is -- mostly -- about me. What can I say? I'm on an ego trip today. It won't last.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: We were following a trackback and thinking "hmmm... this is a bloody excellent post!", and then we realized that it was just part III of, well, three...Damn. I wish I'd written those.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: ...I just remembered that I found a new blog a short while ago, House of Eratosthenes, that I really like. I like his common sense approach and his curiosity when it comes to why people believe what they believe rather than just what they believe.
Brutally Honest: Morgan Freeberg is brilliant.
Dr. Melissa Clouthier: Morgan Freeberg at House of Eratosthenes (pftthats a mouthful) honors big boned women in skimpy clothing. The picture there is priceless--keep scrolling down.
Exile in Portales: Via Gerard: Morgan Freeberg, a guy with a lot to say. And he speaks The Truth...and it's fascinating stuff. Worth a read, or three. Or six.
Just Muttering: Two nice pieces at House of Eratosthenes, one about a perhaps unintended effect of the Enron mess, and one on the Gore-y environ-movie.
Mein Blogovault: Make "the Blog that No One Reads" one of your daily reads.
The Virginian: I know this post will offend some people, but the author makes some good points.
Poetic Justice: Cletus! Ah gots a laiv one fer yew...
Brittany
Seems like just last Thursday, I was getting a big-ass gut-chuckle out of some story about an eighth-grade girls’ volleyball team having to come up with names like “Britney #1, Brittney #4, Brittainey #8, Brtny #10” etc. etc. etc. because all the incredibly unimaginative parents wanted to give their kids the same name. Brittney…and I think the other name was Jasmine. Danielle, maybe.
This was before the unstoppable pop-music juggernaut who went on to marry that K-Fed redneck guy. Before anyone heard her name.
Heh. Now lookee here. The model on the bottle of St. Pauli Girl, in front of me, is Brittany. Freaked me out. I thought I picked up St. Pauli N.A. by mistake…yech. I dunno why. She just looks so wholesome. Like if Doris Day was reincarnated or something.
Now that, I think, will make you feel old. Scratch that; I know it makes you feel old, because it’s working on me. By the time I figured out St. Pauli Girl was my favorite beer, the “Brittany” craze was just hitting the hospital nurseries. Now one of them has grown up, filled out, and there she sits on my label trying to entice me into opening the next bottle. Makes me feel all dirty and stuff.
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