Today I was zooming around the Internet trying to figure out what to write my blog about. I decided to visit the CityBeat Staff Blogs, which you are reading now, to try and vote again for my own blog. I really needed to bring my stars back up to five after seeing a dismal 2.5 standing for the ER Finale (MAYBE IF SOMEONE WOULD HAVE POSTED IT ON TIME, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN RELEVANT). When I went to click the button for five more big stars I noticed that I couldn’t rate the blogs for a second time. After clicking the stars a little message pops up that says, “You already vote.”
It’s over, well as I’m writing this its not, but by the time you read this it will be over. The final episode of ER is airing tonight … perhaps I'll write this as if it’s Friday.
Now that you’re getting older and have given up on your own life goals, it is time to produce an offspring to live vicariously through. Teach them all the things you wanted to learn when you were a child that your parents never taught you. Instill values in them so when they do grow up they will not give up on their dreams like you have.
Ah, the spring has sprung and days are growing longer. No more depressing winter cold invading our souls and sucking our lives away as we nap into the afternoon. The imprint in my bed will soon start to rise and my silhouette will disappear. Winter fades into the past and mid-terms or finals come to an end, meaning only one thing: It is finally Spring Break! The ultimate unsupervised vacation for minors and the equally immature freshman in college.
This weekend the Cincinnati International Wine Festival is taking place at the Plum Street divider known as the Cincinnati Convention Center. Tickets range from about $55 to like a million dollars. I know some of the proceeds go to charity while the rest goes to cleaning up the puke from the old woman that didn’t know she was supposed to spit out the wine after tasting it (I’ve seen Sideways once), and I’m totally down with giving to charities and doing things to make myself feel better about my privileged life.
The Cincinnati Banks Project is getting a new name! Since 1996 the plot of dirt between the two stadiums has been scheduled for a major facelift. Like most ideas that will bring Cincinnati into the future where a community is based around the city center instead of a Walmart, this one will probably fail.
Since the job market is still decreasing like my chances of getting paid to write this blog and my funds are depleting faster than anticipated, I am forced to find a way to party without paying.
As my employment search continues for any job I can get my hands on, I sometimes say to myself, "Why settle for those average everyday jobs of folding clothes, answering calls or giving hand jobs?"
Today I was scanning the pop culture information super highway to catch up on the latest fads. What's cool, what's hott, what's in, what's not. As I clicked around I came across some newly published pictures of Jessica Simpson. As I gazed at her face with my bedroom eyes, they slowly transformed into bulging ping-pong balls. My F-stop quickly went from an f/8 to an f/1.4 in 1/500 of a second. The sight of this fat woman that was almost finished devouring Jessica Simpson's body, feet first, was on the front page of People magazine.
On a cool November night, a glorious freedom-leading individual raised a bong to his lips at a USC party and proceeded to inhale the silly smoke into his dolphin like lungs. As he exhaled after listening to "Battery" by