Why I am a better person than Ellen Degeneres
2003-11-03 12:08 a.m.
Halloween was a good time. I almost said it was neat, but of course it wasn't. No neatness at all. But I did get to see many people, and the bottoms of numerous glasses.Amanda, damn you for not coming. You were one of the people whose head I was going to make explode when you saw my costume. It was Tau, so of course there were others there who knew who I was supposed to be right away, but I wanted your reaction. Drew and Alys and George and Patti all got it. That's right. You also missed seeing George. See where your alleged "real life" got you? I almost cried, though, at the ignorance of today's youth. "What are you, an albino?" "Uh..." "No, she's a goth!" "Ummm...." Then someone asked if I was supposed to be Marilyn Manson. NO. Oh my god, NO. Oh well. I guess you take certain risks by dressing up as someone only familar to comic book geeks from 10 years ago. *** I always feel I really should Write Something. Then, I find I have nothing in particular I want to say. It's not like that stops Ellen Degeneres, of course, but I'd like to think I have at least a little integrity. (I browsed through her new book at work the other day. I stopped almost immediately, and I've been a little annoyed with myself for even going that far for days. I actually really liked her standup stuff from back in the day, but it just didn't translate into book form very well at all. I'm never going to get those two minutes back. They're gone forever. Rant Mode On.) If you get the chance, visit a bookstore. Find a copy of The Funny Thing Is.... Open it to a random page and start reading. In about 30 seconds, you'll hate yourself. You'll feel cheap and dirty and wrong. It really is that awful. As you claw out your own eyeballs in a desperate attempt to make the banality stop, you'll hate me too, for putting the idea in your head. OK. Maybe it's not quite that bad. If you're into fluffy little bits of meh, that's kinda funny, than this is the book for you. There's just absolutely no substance to it. It's total bubblegum for your brain. "I woke up today, and said, Hey! I'm going to write a book! Then I decided to maybe get dressed first. Then I thought, no wait, I'll shower, then I'll get dressed. And what is the deal with all that stuff in my closet anyway?" It's like reading a bad diary. Oh, wait. No no no. The difference is, I'm not delusional enough to expect people to pay me $23.95 when I write stuff like that.
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