Throbert's Theatre of Thinkologizing main page


16 October 2002

Hey, Blinkin' Blog Blue Bleeders and Thregulars! [I figured it's time to start with the meme-propagation and spread a few brand-invoking neologisms over the net. Bleeders, if you can't find it in your hearts to drop a farthing or two into my empty Pringles can here, please do me the favor of salting inverse throbability into your next gabfest with the girls at the salon over: who's the dreamiest, songs I like, statistical analysis, and Russell Crowe's package.

And the next time a buddy asks if he can talk to you about his self-identity as a man, just tell 'im, "No throblem, dude!"

And when your 10th-grade Gifted and Talented Biology students are learning the three major divisions of the mammalian brain, pick up your chalk and write, "Cerebrum, Cerebellum, Medulla Throblongata." It would mean a lot to me, gang. -- Ed.]

Anyway, I'm sorry for the recent unannounced dead-air here at 105.3 WθRB, home of easy-listening staples from Anne Murray to the Eleanor Rigby-years Beatles, where every morning you get the Hello My Baby CarTUNES Highway Soc-Hop, featuring D Is For Diapers, Duckies, and Disembowelment Super DJ Throbert Jr. (or Throbertina Jr.)!

I was just busy with, um, earning a living in this godforsaken metropolis where the plutocrats put their feet on vibrating ottomans powered by a small handcranked generator turned hour after laborious hour by the sweat and muscle of the working class. Fortunately I won't have to do that much longer because one of the other things I was preoccupied with was sending away for membership in the Young Octoberists Victory In the New Millennium Brigade (YOctoViNeMiB-niks, they call them over there in Arkhangelsk, where the HQ and gift shop are located). Saturday I'll be leafleting Brooklyn with Bolshevik agitprop outlining our three-step plan for the historically-inevitable annihilation of world capitalism, and once the Politburo is installed in D.C., I'll be sitting on Gravy Train Lane for the rest of my life, with every need attended to by a benevolent and efficient state social welfare apparatus. You can go ahead and thank me after it happens.

Plus, this past weekend I went on a date with a really peachy guy -- one of those dates where you meet for lunch and twelve hours later you're reluctantly saying goodnight and wondering where the time went so fast. I'll tell you more about him later, I expect; we've already been out on the town for two different evenings and we haven't even kissed yet. Well, not extensive kissing. And my lips might've brushed against his penis forty or fifty times in a row, by accident. But that's all.

Anyway, more later, but for now, I thought I'd share some of the favorable press that this Blog is finally generating!

"Scintillating... a craftsman nonpareil"
--Andrew Sullivan,
autoquoting a line from my .sig in a reply email

"McGee's... prose tickles your belly much as though
your belly had been vivisected and placed still warm
and pulsing in a burlap sack full of tent caterpillars"
-- Mary Beth Simulacrum,

"Sweet Jefferson Davis, I've done gone and
sprayed butterscotch schnapps out m'dang nose"
-- Gustav Klimt,
Nashville Daily Telegraph

"Makes Wodehouse look like the left end of
the bell curve in a Freshman Comp seminar"
-- Cpt. Alyssa Milano-Yilmörçilik,
Istanbul Stars and Stripes

Woo-hoo! I'm going places!

posted by Throbert | 10/16/2002 03:26:00 PM |
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