The One Where I Blind you With Science, Genuis, and Glitter Glue

Janet "Anonymous," who prefers the jackrabbit rapid-fire qualities of blogs like--hmmmm--g**ker--thinks I don't update enough to require her daily attention/"checking."

I don't perform well under pressure I love pressure and perform very well under it (get it, boys? "under it?) so as I was waiting five thousand years minutes for the 1 train I got to thinking (does anyone else who unfortunately watched too much Sex and the City ever want to start every blog post with "So I got to thinking about relationships"? Is that just me?) about all the things that I've considered doing for Blogince. (That's Science+Blogging)

Gimmicks I've Pondered for the Purpose of Having a Reality-TV-Competition-Esque Blog

-What if I ate nothing but Tasti-D-Lite for an entire week? You know, like Jared Fogle did with Subway sandwiches, except that I weigh considerably less than he did and don't actually need to lose weight? Would I lose weight anyhow, would I go insane? If so, would I die? Would I turn into Mocha Marble Cheesecake, but fake and without dietary fats?

Where this thought stopped: Would I have to eat Tasti D Lite for breakfast? ew.


-What if I went out with one of the complete juiceheads from myspace who send me annoying e-mails or photos they took of themselves in their garage holding drumsticks and trying to look like they actually have balls? You know, like this guy:

... accompanied with a pickup line like this :"i work long hours i love what i do always looking for a bit of adventure i think that experience is the most important thing in life you have to have fun enjoy yourself and look for new things"

HOLD UP! LET ME INTRODUCE YOU TO OUR FRIEND THE COMMA.

Jesus.

While trolling through my inbox for prime subjects for textual flogging, I realized that this guy:

has contacted me no less than 10,000 times, and I've never opened his messages.

What if I went ou Where this thought stopped:UM EW.


-What if I tried to freak my roommate (in the spirit of gingerbread+latte's "Christitute," I will call her the "AlAnonititute") out to see if I could get her to admit that she hates gay people is a lesbian? I recently found out that when Maggie first moved in to this apartment, the 3rd roommate was a homosexual lady, and this made the AlAnonitute uncomfortable. (Didn't homophobia in NYC go out of style like, 15 years ago?) Since I think I come off as mostly straight (and I kind of am mostly straight), I really enjoyed her look of shock/near-death/surprise when she walked down the hallway towards the bathroom and into suspect behavior on the cusp of my room. A little later, I suggested that we keep it down so the AlAnonitute could sleep and my special friend exclaimed, audibly to a ridiculous degree: "I don't care, I will fuck her with a strap on!"

Where this idea stopped: I need to ask G-d to help me accept the things I cannot change, or whatever. I don't know, she's the one who goes to the meetings, not me.

-What if I went to every Duane Reade in New York City and timed the lines to figure out precisely which Duane Reade is the absolute worst most inefficently run Duane Reade of all?

Where this idea stopped: I may as well jump off a bridge, and also I'm pretty sure it's the one on 76th and 1st avenue..or 14th and 6th avenue...or 90th and Columbus....I mean, I could get cocaine faster than those douchebags could get me some goddamn Allegra.

-What if I just tried to freak the AlAnonitutue out by bringing a lot of boys home and a lot of women home at various intervals to see if I could get her to say something bad about how immoral bisexual people are, and then I could use that in my book?

Where this idea stopped: I so don't even have the energy or desire to be promiscuous. Really all I need is people to come over and yell like I'm giving them an orgasm while I put away my laundry and write this freakin' blog. Clearly.