Yes, it's time once again for more random comments from the random blog entries of random… randomness.
Really, you shouldn't expect much from me when I'm tired but still want to comment on the sad state of the "world".
And today, the "world" consists of Lindsay Lohan.
Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay… what the fuck are you doing getting yourself arrested like Paris did?
Didn't all of you Hollywood-types learn from her mistake that YES you can be arrested? Shit, and you're not even an idiot, or at least a fool as stupid as Paris is. Do you really think the judge is going to take pity on you just because you're hotter than Paris?
Then again, this is Hollywood so you probably just have to be tried in the same district Paris was tried in and then somehow have mental problems for a nice and quick removal.
What I find ironic about this story is that Ms. Lohan is currently promoting her movie "I Know Who Killed Me" which is scheduled to hit cinemas in America on Friday.
Do you know who killed you, Lindsay? You did. Shit, stop fucking yourself up on excess drugs and alcohol. I don't give a shit if you want to take drugs, alcohol, or whatever… just don't over do it. Life is for having fun, not for fucking yourself over ten times from Sunday.
And if you can somehow pull yourself away from the glaring world of Lindsay Lohan's personal worldwide media coverage while you pull yourself off to Lindsay herself, then maybe you'll see you've just lost a ton of civil rights to the age of terrorism.
Is that what we should call it from now on? Maybe that should be our excuse. It's not in the story I'm going to link in a second; I just made it up. The Age Of Terrorism. It has a nice ring to it. It's not The Age Of Aquarius but The Age Of Terrorism. A bunch of Bin Laden's dancing around to The Age Of Aquarius singing the word "terrorism" in place of where "Aquarius" goes.
Shit, you could even claim it as an excuse reason for pretty much anything. The trains are late: the age of terrorism. Unemployment is up: the age of terrorism. My girlfriend won't fuck me: the age of terrorism. Shit, now that's some powerful fucking age there. The Bronze Age ain't got shit on The Age Of Terrorism.
Anyway, you've lost some of your civil liberties.
The soon to be retired police commissioner Ken Moroney has announced that the police in NSW will start compiling a DNA database of people. This means that even if you haven't been convicted of a crime, your DNA stays on file. It helps to protect the innocent, you see… apparently.
I don't know. I see where Mr. Moroney is coming from, I really do. But there's something about the police having DNA of people in a database that makes me really distrustful of the police. There are some really corrupt people out there and having a database that stands to be used for scientific identification of people that essentially cannot be proved wrong (because DNA is that oh-so-powerful golden key in criminology) just disturbs the hell out of me.
Another way to disturb me is to mention the term micropenis.
Yeah, that term is apparently real. As such, I found a blog on the Herald site that's actually really quite good. Anyway, in this particular posting, the blogger talks about guys with pin dicks and how they always make up for the sex by an increased desire for oral sex and other forms of stimulation. Makes sense, I guess. That whole need to feel better about yourself, insecurity and whatnot. Make her cum / orgasm by way of your tongue and you'll feel like a better man because the size of your dick didn't do it. Shame it comes down to penis size, I guess.
If only personalities could give orgasms. Guys with large cocks but piss-small personalities would be struggling for an orgasm and guys with pin pricks and great personality would be causing multiple earthquake tremor inducing orgasms just from looking in the general vicinity of the female in question. And then guys stuck in the middle of both would still be… well… stuck in the middle.
Middle ground and all. You know that area.
Fuck, I don't even know what I'm on about.