If I Had A Goat I Would Name It Whitney Houston,
And Then I Would Beat It For Being A Crack Whore,
But That's Just Me

Well, it's like this. I know you're bored with me. I'm bored with me, too. I tried to talk me into doing something exciting like taking up hang-gliding or having sex with multiple partners while the panda that lives upstairs videotaped or carving gnomes out of wood or going on a killing spree, but me just couldn't muster up the energy or enthusiasm for any of those things. Goddamn it, Me! It might be the new medication they put me on here at ShadyBrook Mental Institute, it might be the carbon monoxide, it might be the twenty billion below zero temperature outside, it might be the kiss of death me received on me's forehead, it might not. Who can really say? Not me.


All I Really Know Right Now I Could Fit On A Post-It

1. Not all cats have tails. Not all hamsters have two eyes. Not all pandas live upstairs from me (just one, one mad Pet Shop Boy crazed panda who pays rent in bamboo and is waiting for the right moment to gnaw off my left arm). Not all humans think Teen Wolf Too was a violation of the sacred original Teen Wolf.


2. Plagiarism is wrong. Unless you're plagiarizing something really, really, really good like Jewel's Poems or Madonna's Sex Book or Just Imagine, a Dick and Jane book that includes such delightful stories as the one about a goat named Hooker, or my personal favorite, the lyrics to Whitney Houston's "The Greatest Love Of All". Because in the face of such greatness how can you not plagiarize, I ask you.


Yeah. So. Tell me something I don't know. Please.