An Epoch-ormic Growth

It would seem as though we've left our sticky little fingerprints on the proverbial jar of Boysenberry preserves.

rock.
m$

Carcassoidal Viscerotropes for Culture Vultures

Quick and dirty - for all of you undecideds out there, here is a rascally little feller that can help give you a better sense as to where you fall in terms of Presidential candidates. Be mindful of the fact that all candidates are on this list, including those that have or will soon drop out.

Or mayhaps you're in the market for a bizarre little blog, updated a bit more frequently than this wretchedly fecund monstrosity of blatherskittitude, that showcases interesting approaches to advertising.

And for those doubting Tom-boys who thought it would never happen - the cultural zeitgeist has undergone a paradigmal plate tectonic shift to Pangea. Fashion's Xanadu. The Zubaz renaissance. Somewhere Icky is shuffling.

rock.
m$

Here I am. Rock You Like a Hurricane.

Am I lame, or just busy? Or just busy being lame? Any way you slice it I haven't put much up in a bit, though I've certainly thought to myself, "Ooh, I should write something about this," on more than one occasion, which in itself makes me a bit lame. Anyway, in all it's simple self explanatory glory: 5 Dangerous Things You Should Let Your Kid Do (though there are actually more than 5 for all you county-countertons out there).

I personally engaged in almost all of them growing up - the vehicles I conducted were smaller than a car (but bigger than a bread box!), and the whole digital media thing wasn't really an issue...but I suppose I bootlegged cassette tapes. Yeah, that's right...I'm the inspiration for all of Jim Croce's songs about troublemakers (Jim, Leroy Brown et al.).

And for those of y'all who wear fanny packs...nerd.

rock.
m$