Unbridled Microwave Buttonry

As a user of Yahoo Mail, I'm constantly bombarded with promotions for Yahoo's personals service; these promotions usually consist of images of pretty girls accompanied by ridiculous captions like "Girlfriend season is here." Similarly, every time I log into MySpace in order to send a message to Nickelback telling them that they suck, it takes almost all the energy that I have to ignore the omnipresent Match.com ads, ads that typically feature coy, scantily clad young ladies DYING to chat online with YOU. What blows my mind about these ads is the implication that there is essentially this large pool of unbelievably hot women out there waiting for nothing else than to essentially be "assigned" to various dudes. I know that they're just ads, and I know that I'm a cynical bastard, but they still seem inappropriately manipulative to me. Why? Because: they seem to be saying that all dudes everywhere have some sort of inalienable right to some sweet 'tang. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of hot ladies? I guess so.

As I've mentioned before, sometimes I make notes concerning things that I want to "blog" "about" at a later "time." One such note that I have reads "Microwave buttons--how many do you really need?" What was my original point in writing this down? I have no idea. It's lost to history. I don't remember the context from which this question came, nor do I remember any specific points that I wanted to make. I wish I did though, because I bet that I had a lot of really interesting things to say on the subject. Regardless, I guess in an abstract, philosophical, Zen sense this microwave button question is a good one. How many buttons do you need on a microwave? How many babies can you fit in a tire? I have no idea. Also, I like this note because I think it sounds like a teaser for an upcoming expose on Fox News or something. "Next on Special Report: Britt Hume looks into why America-hating liberals want you to have fewer buttons on your microwave, and what you can do to stop them." I don't know about you, but I would watch that news segment.

Here's another note I have: "Pointer Sisters--Jump". I'm pretty sure that when I wrote this down, I did so in order to later prepare an HILARIOUS entry asking why it is that people don't write songs about jumping anymore. You know what I'm saying--you had the Pointer Sisters Jump, you had Van Halen's Jump, you had House of Pain's Jump Around, you had Kriss Kross' Jump, you even had Technotronic's Pump Up the Jam (which, when said really, really fast, approximates the word jump), you had all those jump songs and more, and all of them were hits, and then, suddenly, the proud tradition of singing about jumping just up and jumped its jumpy ass right out of the view of jumpologists everywhere. Why did this happen? I don't know, and I'm not going to find out--there's a reason that this question has remained as a note for some time. I'm far too important a person to be investigating this matter. I've got appointments to make, appointments to keep, appointments to break, appointments to be rescheduled, previously rescheduled appointments to re-reschedule, deals to seal, seals to deal, bridges to burn, Italian Ice to eat, coffee to drink, and babies to sell. I'm a man on the go. Time is money, which, when you consider that most savings accounts pay interest on your deposits, means that banks have figured out the secret of time travel. Think about it. Whatever, all I'm saying is that someone out there, somewhere, should get to the bottom of this jump song thing. I don't know why, but I've got a sinking suspicion that the future of democracy hinges on it.