A whirlwind of stuff means…randomness!

You know how some days the world seems like a blustery fall afternoon in the back yard where you’re surrounded by a tempest of blowing leaves?  And you try, try, and try to catch all the leaves by chasing them down, waving your arms at them like a flailing muppet, or knocking them into a tree or wall and finally getting them to fall to the ground where you rake, rake, rake them but never quite get them all collected?  Yeah, that’s today.

Truth be told, I usually take a couple of sips of beer—a nice harvest ale, preferably—as I watch the leaves whirl around in the air.  Then I shrug, mutter something about "mulch" noncommittally, and go back to watching football.  Leaves shmeaves.

Anyway, like the leaves, I’m currently in the eye of a storm that includes an overabundance of work stuff, novel edits (that I’m still behind on), and contemplation of Possible Crazy Super Secret Project X (PCSSPX), as well as the usual chaos that accompanies my life.  Thus, instead of the usual respectable, highly-engaging, well-thought post, I give you these random bullets of nonsense.

  • Bullet the first: Netflix.  I know I’m kind of late to the party on this particular topic, but Netflix announced last week that it’s plan to split into two separate content delivery services, Netflix and Quikster, has been abandoned.  Expectedly, everyone who mocked the whole Quikster idea in the first place immediately mocked the announcement as corporate indecision (i.e. waffling).  And yes, sure, a corporate policy of "No, wait, I take that back" doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, I don’t want to hear complaining.  Netflix’s user base freaked out about the plan, which was admittedly questionable at best.  To their credit, that they actually listened to those users and responded in kind says to me that, hey, at least they’re better than our "representative" governmental officials.  In fact, next November, I’m writing in Netflix for President.
  • Sub-bullet A: Quikster is the stupidest name for a potential service ever, anywhere.  If you ask me (and you know you did), "Quikster" is the name of a throw-away, third-tier superhero that only ever gets to do embarrassing guest appearance on the Justice League.  He the kind of hero that’s fodder for the Doomsday Weapon in comic pan-universe wars.  Hell, Quikster doesn’t even have archenemies.  He’s just got a handful of annoying regular enemies.  Like Burgler Bob, Sally Swindler, or Rob Robber.  Quikster is the kind of hero who shouts his catch phrase, "Don’t worry! I’ll stop that huge, devastating orange laserbeam with my head!" before being reduced to a puff of vapor and a handful of ash.  Thank goodness Netflix come down off that meth bender and canned the whole idea.
  • Bullet 2:  Is there a single more potent ingredient anywhere than Subway onions?  You get a sandwich or flatbread or whatever with just a minor sprinkling of those things and you’re tasting them for the rest of the day.  I don’t care how much gum, toothpaste, mouthwash, soup, or bleach* you apply, that taste isn’t coming outta there.  What’s that?  Tongue strips?  Yeah, right.  That’s like dropping a mug of tap water on a burning car.  Oh, and good luck if you get those Onions of Power on your hands somehow.  You’ll be drawing that look from strangers all afternoon.  In fact, in that situation, I recommend you find a baby with full drawers to keep with you.  People understand stinky babies.  They might turn up their nose and accuse you of being a bad parent, but at least you won’t get beaten up on elevators.  Onion stench, though?  Yeah, good luck.
  • Tertiary Bullet:  As of 4:20 PM this afternoon, Carson Palmer is neither a Cincinnati Bengal nor actively retired (can one be actively retired?).  In what can only be seen as an act of a higher power, the Oakland Raiders’ starting QB Jason Campbell broke his collarbone on Sunday.  In response, the Raiders offered two draft picks for Palmer, a first round in 2012, and a second round (with potential to be a first) in 2013.  As a player with a history of injury, as well as a psyche full of "meh" after eight seasons of Bengaldom, six weeks ago there was debate about whether Palmer could fetch even a single second round pick.  Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to congratulation Mike Brown for finally sensing an opportunity to better his team when it fell into his lap started to wiggle.  Sure, sure, the Bengals will probably end up picking second and third round caliber players with their bonus picks, because without a GM, that’s what they do.  But at least it can finally be said without equivocation that, yes, Mr. Brown did learn not to overlook a gift draft in the mouth just to keep the chance to pick Akili Smith.

I think that’s enough silliness for one day.


*This is a bad idea.  Bleach is not really intended for oral use.  Don’t do this.