I'm supposed to be judging that "ATL Idol" contest. (Part 1. Part 2.) What have I got myself into? What if I hate everything? Somebody will still win, become the new Above the Law blogger, and I'll never get traffic-building links from there again!
Damn, maybe I should be the Paula. But I was going to be the Simon! Why coddle bloggers? If there's anyone that shouldn't be coddled it's a blogger. Nothing more disgusting than a coddled blogger.
That fish smells almost done.
UPDATE: I got my act together and wrote my first comment:
The most important part of blogging is — to use an American Idol expression — song selection. You should be spending much more time looking for good things to blog than actually writing up the post. But you've had your stories imposed on you, and they are stories that don't interest me at all. I clicked on the links, took a look, and couldn't be bothered. And why are they all about black people getting into trouble? Is that supposed to be funny?
But that's not the contestants' responsibility. You got stuck with that. It's like Mariah Carey night. I hate the songs, so how can I care how you sing them? You'd better do something very smart and tricky or I'm gone in a second. This is blogging! You have less than a second to reel me in. One thing I hated about the original articles is that they are complicated and about people I don't know and have no motivation to learn about. Why should I figure out what damned thing happened? So the least you could do is make it very short and funny in some way that didn't require me to understand a lot of crap I don't care about. But you all went long. And putting it in list form or as a series of steps doesn't fool me. It's still long and boring. Blah. I hate everything. You did not amuse me. I would never buy this record.
Some specifics:
Part 1: Exley. That lap dance picture. I was trying to read this sitting in the middle seat on an airplane between two large Harley Davidson bikers from New Zealand. That was an element of entertainment I didn't need. Then, I scrolled down to Alex's post and got a picture of some law books. Yeesh! It's one extreme or the other. And everyone runs with the photo of the smiling black man in happier days. That made me sad. But speaking of things women don't like, Alex, it's not cool to snark "lovers' quarrel" if a man has punched a woman in the stomach. And you've got that right next to a breast-emphasizing photo of the woman. Ugh.
Part 2: Frolic and Detour, only one phrase stood out: "groups of bridesmaids bonding as they make babies' footprints into tiny butterfly wings." Would I read a blog that offered me insight and entertainment in that form? No. You're sneering at ordinary women. Why? Who are you? Sophist falls back on the old device of how-to steps. I never find that funny. Seems like you could program a computer to turn news stories into a list of how-to steps. Here's a phrase: "back-end of the Lee gene pool." 1. Pools don't have a "back-end." You mean "shallow end." 2. Racism alert. Marin — my eyes glazed over but I did see the phrase "picked himself up, dusted himself off." That made me want to run off to YouTube and watch Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Now, that was entertaining, but surely not the effect you want.
३१ जुलै, २००८
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Coddle Fish.
Cheers,
Victoria
"Take This Job and Shove It" is a song by David Allan Coe. It can be used at any time.
Nina has gone nice on Project Runway and she's boring now. Don't do it.
"That fish smells almost done."
This has to be in the wrong place. You should have posted it in the blogging heads thread.
Damn, maybe I should be the Paula.
Blond or no, I can't see you being an ex-Laker Girl or dancing with a rapping cartoon cat!
Simon it is, mein Vortex!
"But was going to be the Simon!"
So are you going to hit on yourself?
Oh sorry, wrong Simon.
RON! Ginger Rogers on Althouse!
(You have to understand people. Ginger Rogers is to Ron, what JFK is to me. No mention goes by, without a personal contribution from us)
Ds to Ts:
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
A fly can't bird, but a bird can fly.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie.
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
Why does a chicken? I don't know why.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie.
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
A fish can't whistle and neither can I.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie.
Victoria, as always, you charm the hell out of me!
Ich bin ein Sundries-fan!
Bravo, Ann! What a great post. I think you're doing just fine, and your traffic won't suffer at all. I particularly liked this skewering: You're sneering at ordinary women. Why? Who are you?
As Glenn Reynolds would say, indeed.
The spectacle of watching Fred Astaire acting (dancing) as if he can't dance was icing on the cake.
How come there's no Ginger Rogers to love nowadays?
Very droll, trooper.
That wasn’t drollery, Simon.
That was ballbusting.
There’s a difference.
Exley did well digging up that info on Shepherd passing himself off as a DA during his internship. I agree the "lover's quarrel" bit was tasteless. The lawyer of the day thing ought to go to Shepherd's lawyer, who orchestrated the whole recantation, including writing up a statement on the most credulous idiots would believe. Yes, she's covered in bruises and her front door is in splinters and off its hinges, but the lawyer's got it framed as a high-school snit - "hey, let's exchange phones to prove you love me!"
I can't wait to see Shephard in stripes.
Is that picture of the lap dance really worse than the one at the top of this blog that shows a naked Pamela Anderson with what appears to be a giant schlong? Not for my money.
"Here's a phrase: "back-end of the Lee gene pool." 1. Pools don't have a "back-end."
Tidal pools do. Maybe that's the visual reference he was going for. The back end of a tida pool us usually stagnant and nasty.
So who won?
The one with the biggest tits.
How come there's no Ginger Rogers to love nowadays?
ricpic, I hate to break it to you, but Ginger's workin' that Great Dancehall in the Sky!
If Althouse is the Simon, who are the Alvin and the Theodore?
Even worse, Doug, who's the Dave?
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