Keep up the good work, Mitch.

Here’s one bit of social etiquette that withered hose-bag Ms. Manners never got around to telling you about: if you happen to find out that a childhood friend’s parents are staying at a hotel on your street, then simple curiosity demands that you tip the dude at the front desk to take them up an ice bucket of Coors Light tall boys with a nice welcome note printed on your company’s stationary.

I found out weeks ago about this and I have been plotting it out since then. It’s not so fucking brilliant except that when they head home they will tell everybody in my hometown about this and it will live on for months and it will get back to my parents and they’ll be pleased as punch that they have such a thoughtful son.

Poolside at the non-existent club my parents don’t belong to: What’s Scott up to, Karen and Mike? Oh, he’s sending little presents to Kathy and Chester when they stop by and tipping bellboys. Oh well, what an industrious lad, perhaps he’d like to take on me on as investors in his upcoming endeavors…

Check out Don’t Stop the ACLU, the flyest political blog on the Internet. It just happens to be perpetrated by two of my friends - the enigmatic Maven Swift and the surly Capt. Rational. Drop by and speak your mind!

Sometimes, a simple little joke can brighten your life for days at a time. Here’s one that worked for me.

Dear Pete,

Look, we know you really, really like your drugs, and we understand that being a talented, famous, and handsome (by British standards) young man places an enormous burden on you, but it’s time to get clean. And we’re not talking about limiting yourself to only two hard drugs instead of four, either. We mean clean-clean. While it might make sense to you to live a shambolic lifestyle that mirrors your art, in reality, it’s not healthy, and it’s going to catch up with you.

Perhaps you’d like to come to America for a spell and visit one of our top-notch rehabilitation centers. Here, you would be separated from your chums, who have an undoubtedly negative influence on you, and, more importantly, you could escape the dastardly British press. Trust us, the American press (and most of the American public) could care less about you. Wouldn’t it be great to detox, walk around all day in your bathrobe, and do a 1,000-piece puzzle of a herd of majestic wild stallions with a biker from Baltimore named Gary, all in the safety of a warm, inviting clinic? That and much, much more (including graham crackers) awaits.

Pete, we’re only telling you this because we love you. It is with that same intent that, for now, we’re declining to purchase the Babyshambles record out of fear that we might indirectly support your drug habit. If and when you get clean, then maybe we’ll discuss this further.

Cheers,

Barber College

I can’t use anymore sick days until after my wedding so I’m sitting here at work today with a cold. I can’t hear anything thing and i can’t breathe. Here are some links that made me feel a bit better. Barely.

Free TV.

Copyright Infringement!!! Not as cute as our J-ho either.

For everybody sick of whacking off to Queen Elizabeth…

Overpriced olds are stealing from you and me.

False Alarm.

Let’s just save everyone’s time and give S.O.A.P. all of the 2007 Oscars right now.

Look, I’m not Irish, so I’m not really sure what St. Patrick’s Day is all about. I think it has something to do with drowning snakes or some shit like that. Let me also tell you that I’m not a big fan of holidays in general, especially ones that are used almost exclusively as excuses for Americans to get drunk. So maybe this year instead of reinforcing negative stereotypes, how about we be more constructive? So yes, I’m asking you to abstain from drinking alcohol tonight. Instead, try something from this list of Irish-y stuff that I’ve prepared for you:

1) Fight the Irish Potato Famine by sponsoring one of those Sally Struthers kids in Africa (I know they’re not Irish, and I know the Potato Famine happened 150 years ago, but close enough).

2) Watch Leprechaun in the Hood, starring Warwick Davis, Ice-T, and Coolio.

3) Hold a fake U2 concert on your roof.

4) Read Finnegan’s Wake and explain to me what the fuck it’s about.

5) Record a sack for the University of Notre Dame’s football team.

6) Turn a Druid on to Catholicism.

7) Debate a friend on Thin Lizzy’s impact on the NWOBHM scene of the early 1980s.

8) Write a letter to Frank McCourt asking him to please stop writing books.

9) Buy me a box of Lucky Charms and separate out all the nasty toasted oat thingies. You can have those, but I get the marshmallows.

10) Kill an Englishman.

Oh well. At least we did better than South Africa.