Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Josephine's Thoughts on Pop Culture

Fiddle de rats and a horde of dingbats, okay so it’s been another banner week staring our favorite jerks! Guess I’ll catch my break on the other side, okay. Great.
Whoa heavens okay so I guess the congressional committee of holly-easy passed a law that made wearing your under slacks optional!  Gesh. Yuck. Ugh, gosh okay and I say I know of our usual slutspects, (Lindsay they’re-on-loan, Paris-is-where-you-should-stay, and Britney Spear-to-the-eye) but this time, oh brother did we ever get an eye full from a so you think you can show me your tid bits while I am trying to enjoy a restful evening on the davenport for once. Well congratulations, you scored a 10 in get outta here and put some clothes on department. Geeeeeeah.
Oh and sure thing, okay. I would love to hear more about your life, Tori Spelling disaster everywhere you go. I don’t like looking at your face okay and I don’t need to hear what comes out of your yapper either, alright so just go away. Yeah, and my stomach hurts too but I don’t think a trip to the hospital is the ticket okay. Less of you would do and your husband too okay. So take your boring bucket of who cares and get.
Ahhhhh now whose uncle do I have to cry to ta stop hearing about this Roman Polansicko. Okay gross. Now we all know someone who has taken some liberties for the sake of their diddle needs so why cant everyone just shut up about it, okay. By the way, okay hey Floyd, you left your front tire in my kitchen okay, ya big jerk. Oh and I have been enjoying my broken hot water tank too, ya sack of mistakes and heartbreaks. Just get to go and shut up about it already.
Okay. Ah jez, my programs are about to start. That’s enough for one week. Get lost.
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The Unthinkable has happened.

I have watched five consecutive minutes of the Tyra show.

This shit is crazy stupid.

Its about people who cheat on their partners, and now Tyra has a jury of peers from the audience who will decide the fate of their relationship.

But there's clearly no point in having a jury of peers from the audience, because Tyra is judge jury top model and jesus all up in this shiz-nit.
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Bad Timing

It is very bad timing when you go home sick from work because you have flu type symptoms, including an upset tummy.  And it just so happens to be the same day your building turned off the water for maintenance.

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Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Ask Boyfriend

Dear Boyfriend,
I'm going to start looking for new jobs. I want something that will allow me to work 9-5 ish and give me health insurance. I also don't want much responsibility. And I want to be rich. Can you find me a position?

Dear Anonymous Job Seeker,

I can answer the actual query in your correspondence quite succinctly: No, I can't find you a position.

Why, you ask. Because, while Ask Boyfriend is an ever-flowing fount of wisdom in all matters, I must needs remind you that I am somewhat bound by the temporal strictures of a life not entirely consumed by this blog and column. What I can do however is attempt to elucidate the significance behind the language of your question, thus propelling you upon a trajectory that shall net meaningful results. Let us break down the distinct qualifications you long for in a position.

First, you reference a time frame that you find desirable, "9-5 ish". It would have been useful to include an AM/PM distinction here, but since we don't generally live in a nocturnal realm of vampiric delights, I will go ahead and assume that you mean 9AM to 5PM, informing me that you are most comfortable with a highly-structured schedule that conforms to that of the majority of the working population of any sizable metropolitan area. The "ish" portion of your qualification is telling, in so far as it speaks to a certain underlying desire to escape that very rigid timetable that you supplied. It is a small thing, currently huddled in darkness, shivering with fear of change, but once it catches some small whiff of pungent abnormality you may find yourself basking in the glory of preternatural work hours.

Second, you aim for employment that comes with health insurance. I can't speak against this from a practical standpoint, but I believe it does indeed speak to a certain practicality in your nature that desires stability and rejects the uncertainty that makes the uninsured so full of life. Third, you don't want "much" responsibility. The key word here is the one I just wrapped in quotes, much, where you tip your hand as to believing at least in some respect in your abilities and believe yourself capable of some modicum of responsibility, but are ostensibly actively choosing to eschew that very responsibility which you find yourself equal to. Fourth, you want to be rich, which is an interesting statement in that it implies a level of wealth beyond just a comfortable one.

Good god, I just wasted all of my time writing such a long-winded, pointless diatribe about the form that your question took, and certainly wasted your time if you are still reading it. I could have just found you an appropriate job... which I have now done. Did you know that you can make 60k working 35 hours a week as a Legal Secretary? I know that is not "rich" but let's face it, are you rich material?

Thank you.

[Ed Note: Submit your questions in the comments for next week!]
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Ask Boyfriend #2

Dear Boyfriend,

Do you think I dropped my toast with peanut butter face down on my pants this morning because it is the autumnal equinox?

Latoya Jackson could not say so I am asking you.

Thank you,

Libra with slight tendencies of Gemini

Dear Libra with slight tendencies of Gemini,

In order to fully investigate the celestial happenstance that might be at root of your terrible ordeal, we must first clear up some apparent confusion of vernacular. Unless you have a strange cultural reason for calling exactly 5:18pm EST September 22nd 2009 "morning" or live in Adelaide, then you are referring not to the autumnal "equinox", but rather to the autumnal "equilux." Equilux is the proper term when referring to the 24 hour span which, given the heliocentric nature of our universe and the tilt our planet's axis, is when we have exactly 12 hours of darkness followed by 12 of light (assuming of course you are far enough away from the equator to have differential seasonal shifts in light/dark). So to para-rephrase, you are asking if the Autumnal Equilux could be responsible for the sequence of dire events that led to you having peanut butter all over your crotch.

No, not in slightest, it's a preposterous suggestion steeped in misconceptions and myths about periodic alignments of earth and sun, altogether more suited to a back-alley palmistry than any educated discourse. No, if you ask me, your peanut butter pants are the result of the combination of your deteriorating manual dexterity and gluttonous consumption.

Thank you,
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Ask Boyfriend

I have an ask Boyfriend question. I have a cold and I do not want it. How should I get rid of it. Rule out orange juice and tea because I don't like those things.

Thank you,


Dear Snotnose,

While I could launch into an exposé of time honored, mystic traditions, dating back to Shang dynasty era China, involving ravenous consumption of near-extinct species, I would rather examine your situation in the context of a Snotnose preferential hierarchy. So, rather than prescribing a steady dose of intravenous South Chinese tiger testicles, I would recommend that you ask yourself the following question. Do you prefer being afflicted with the common cold and endlessly searching for a proverbial silver bullet or consumption of easily accessible, well-founded remedies that are somewhat unpalatable to your bizarre tastes? Honestly, who doesn't really like orange juice and tea?


--Followup Question--

Dear Mr. Boyfriend,
I am deathly allergic to orange juice, tea, carbonated beverages of any kind, alcoholic beverages of any kind, water and air. The only thing I can reasonably drink is motor oil. Will this help my cold?

immediate response

Dear Immediate Response,

Motor oil will certainly not help your cold, although when you are at the point that you are allergic to basic necessities for human existence I would hazard a guess that you have more serious concerns than a case of the sniffles.
Thank you,

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Friday, September 25, 2009

Fake Comment Friday!

It's here you guys!  It's here!  Fake Comment Friday!!!

But firstly, I would like to say a few things.

1.  Thank you so much for everyone who auditioned for Caveat.  You were all lovely morsels of improv, and I was so happy to see you.  And I am oh-so sorry that we cannot get our final decision to you faster. 

2.  Mythical Newsroom has a show up in THE New York City on Sats-urday.
The Red Room
East Vilalge
10:30 pm

Also, there are some new pictures up on there.

3.  And lastly, yesterday I made a poor choice.  Someone was like "would you like to drink beer?"  And I was all: Yes.

But I had laundry to do.  And I did not do the laundry, instead I drank the beer.

Looks like I am still 25, you guyses, and making poor life decisions that will leave me dirty and hungover on a Friday.

The problem being, I think I will always chose the beer, friends, laughing, fun time over the stupid, dumb, boring laundry.  How and when will this change for me?  Will it be painful?  Because I think I have a pretty high pain tolerance, although how do you ever compare that?  And if you knew you were getting tested for your pain threshold you would probably hold out a little longer, right?  I would, but that's because I can get super competitive, which is another issue altogether.

But really, when is this adulthood thing going to happen?
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Chapter Two

She watched that persnickety little girl leave her classroom.  And she just bawled her eyes out.

What’s wrong with me?  Pull it together Denise, pull IT TOGETHER.

But instead of pulling it together she put her head down on the desk and sobbed, while her body heaved up and down.

No one gives a shit about me.  I am going to turn into that nasty old teacher that always has chalk on her butt, and no one tells her. 

Was the door open?

Denise jerked her head around.  The door was open.  But the kids in the hallway walked right by, as if they had somewhere important to go, and they couldn’t be bothered by the fact that their teacher’s life was in ruins.

She stared as their little bodies motoring around the corridor.  Smiling and giggling.  All happy about life and whatnot.

Just wait, she thought.  Just wait until you are older. Just wait until you have to move back in with your parents.  Just wait until you are working at some grade school an hour away.  Just wait until all your friends are living in Minneapolis, and you are stuck out in the boonies.  Just wait until your life goes down the fucking drain.

Denise definitely thought fucking.  It was actually a little surprising that she hadn’t dropped an f-bomb in class yet.  Not that they were listening anyways.
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Thursday, September 24, 2009


Greetings Hallmark Evites,
Hark close with your hawrk eyes. Ima let you finish whatev's it was you was doing that was not as importante than this so lemme just say dis(s):
It's Miller high time to couple up every last bit of sass in my body and board it up on Noah's Snark, and send it sailing with a sharp pat on the Biblical bum through the maelstrom of opinions known as the Internet back to the Free but Fascist World of Anonymous Commenting (cruise shipping & handling fees sincluded).

I'll preach it loud and proud, you guys fo really brought it this week! Hallelu-yeah you did! It was a too blessed to be stressed kick in the miraculo (bilinguality, whaaaat).

All y'all delivered hot, fast, and strong on the toppings for me to whip up some verbal DeGiorno(-you-din't-just-do-
some-blatant-product-placement-four-times-so-close-yet-so-far) pizzas, Chicahgo deep delish-style. I went de-seriously crazy for all of 'em.

You sharpooned my heart with your razor quips & submission statements, land blubber though I may be.

Aw and B4 I gaw, Here's what I gotta say about the freakonomy. The financial state of things is a Predator (the original), with some additional (as opposed to subtractional) versa-style skillz such as a bomb-nivorous diet (South Beach, Grapefruit, Atkins, any and all stomach explosions/ulcers/Pepto Dismal effects caused by stress), an Uzi-quitous life-ruining ability (think dangerous, unbridled, paranoia-inducing everywhere at once but generally discreditable, i.e., Burmese juntabloids or TMZ), and the raw exposed tendon-cy to foreclose
for the day right when you were craving a settlement sandwich on the house and a soda pop pop Snapple cap in the butt of the brain fun fact.

Happily however after though, things will look Up (in the manner of a wise Pixar film for all ages) and at 'em soon enough, but in the nicetime, play gentle and worsh yer hands and hand-me-downs. Make the flu come down with you before you come down with it; I'm totally vaccerious.

Adieu and P U (Who just posted a fart instead of a comment!?!),


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Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Josephine's Thoughts on Pop Culture!

Ah jeez with a coating of cheese, looks we’ll have to wait another week to catch a break from the tinsel town of idiots. Hey, okay jerks, thanks for bringing a pile bologna to the breakfast table but I’m full!
Okay, here’s to you Hollyworthless execs for pulling the plug on the only good thing to grace the tv picture box is 50 years.  Yeah, okay so The Guiding Light was the one hour a day when I didn’t have worry about loud mouths jerks talking outta turn or mouthy wanna-bees blabin about their botoxications. Oh boy, aint it something. If I might get personal for a second okay, Reva and Josh okay, good luck to ya. Okay. You’re winners in my book okay. And too C BS is right, get outta here. I’m done with ya. Get. Go. Jeeez.
 Oh glory to the sickos heres one that’s really got me riled up. That Mackenzie Phillips okay. Gross. Listen okay, so you were dealt a hand of weird. Who wasn’t okay. That doesn’t mean ya go on a world wide blab tour okay. Zip it. We’re grossed out looking at you okay. Picturing you in a hopped up haze a blaze doing the humpty wall fall with your papas is more than any breathing creature should have to endure okay. Ya put ick in sick and I think it’s time you follow that California Dream right into the pacific okay. Yuck. Get going. Zip it or flip it. Out. Go.
Eh gosh. And just when you think the yuck bucket is full, here comes a drop of Hasselhoff-his meds. Go. You’re a jerk with a textbook smirk and we’re done with you okay. You’re a drunk, okay. So do as we do keep the game on the home turf. Okay if you can’t stand don’t try to lead the band, okay. Get out. Shut it down. Get to going. Good.
Yeck. Okay yes, this is Josephine saying get going cause we don’t care. Goodbye.
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I miss my morning coffee when it's gone.  And I leave the empty cup on my desk, just to trick my future self into thinking I have some more.  And by future self I mean me in like 20 seconds.

I have tootsie rolls at my desk, and this morning while getting ready for work I thought about them and how I was going to eat them when I get in.  Mission Accomplished!

I have a bad habit at home, which is part of my qualification for Worst Girlfriend Ever.  I leave food out of the fridge.  I will leave milk or butter out on the counter.  Sometimes I think I will come back for more shortly and then forget.  But most of the time I think it's that I have become so excited about what I am putting into my body that I completely forget that it had a container before me.
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Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Ask Boyfriend

Dear Boyfriend,

Why did no one ask you a question this week?


Dear Boyfriend,

The principle aim of your question is to illuminate the reasoning behind the readers' lack of enthusiasm for the highly touted "Ask Boyfriend" feature this week, and unfortunately I am as mystified as you are as to their motives. Perhaps the earlier glut of Ask Boyfriend questions and answers has led to an enlightenment fatigue of sorts, wherein those readers are inexplicably beset by a desire to not have their world succinctly demystified. We here at Ask Boyfriend believe in a grand dialogue twixt reader and writer, not unlike the relationship between God and heathen, where a glorious light is shed on the impenetrable darkness of this world by a bearded man on high gently massaging his flock's awareness to some semblance of existential consciousness.

In layman's terms, what the fuck guys?

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Monday, September 21, 2009


When did all these people who are comparing Obama to Hitler start believing in the Holocaust?
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I had to look at some of those Abu Ghraib torture pictures for work.  There are no words.

So, let's all try to do something nice today.  And re-invest in humanity.  The good part of humanity that enjoys being nice to people and making other people feel good.  Not the part of humanity that smears poo all over someone and then rapes them.

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First Time in History

My boss came by my desk and I was actually doing work.

I of course immediately had to stop and blog about it.
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Friday, September 18, 2009

Fake Comment Friday!!

I am off to Pennslyvania for work.  So you guys may have to help pick up the slack of fake comment friday.

Fire away!
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Thursday, September 17, 2009

Must See!

Have you guyses seen the AT&T ad where the little girl loses her dog, and then like a whole college campus helps her find it.

I def did not cry at it.
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Dearest Goonies,

What's the antimatter with you guyze?! Let me just make something dilithium crystal clear here.

It's not like these pun blogs are a matter of life or death panels, but I do them because, like it or sugar lump it, all busy work and no word play makes Jack (Nicholson) a dull Joker. So try to show a little more healthcaring, and a little less denial of my claims for attention.

So there you have it. Now leave me some crumbs and I will snarf them up, Beethoven (the dog) style. This is merely my 3rd symphony, but I got more. And I ain't turning no deaf ear on your silence. I can hear it loud and Crystal Light clear (less calories, not filling, so-so taste). 

Your Frenemies,
The Wrangling Bros. &  the PARNum & Bailey Smirkus

[ED Note: Leave your stump the punner words in the comments. And something challenging this time, please.]
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Very Sincerely

Audtions.  There are Washington Improv Theater audtions coming up.

How do you spell auditions?  Like that, with an extra "i."

But seriously, if you want to, and are available to, you should audition.

And I know that auditions suck.  Hard.  It's like asking someone out to prom with just your ability to make them laugh, or something.  And then you have to sit and wait and then you just have to do another round of asking to prom.  With even more pressure.

But life is about taking risks, and improv especially is about taking risks.  And it's all for the love of the game, and reaching for stars and landing on the sun. So dance to your own wind because everything we do causes weather. Butterfly.

YES AND though sur-iously, audition, and take a chance.  And just make sure to mention that you saw this blog post at auditions and you will get a $5 coupon to gilmoregurlz merch store (TBA).
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Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Josephine's Thoughts on Pop Culture!

Knock, knock. Who is there? A bunch of loud mouth jerks okay. Oh brother and your mother this week was one for the book of get outta here.
Kanye-make-me-sick, what’s that on your head okay? Looks like one of them field marking that the aliens leave. Yeah. And I’d rather have a conversation with a martian than hear what you have to say okay too, so zip it. Okay if I wanted unsolicited opinions I would tell my mother where I live, okay. That’s enough talking not enough walking back to the studio to drop a hot record okay. Get in there, and outta here.  Stop yappin start rappin okay.
Forget about ragweed, that Kate Gosslin is really startin to irritate my senses.  Okay, just cause you’re one notch less objectionable than your seven-eleven discount of an ex-husband doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get lost. What the and how and where are your kids okay? Yeah and sure my mother changed boyfriends more often than she changed her delicates but she still managed to come home every night to fix us some sloppy joes and a heavy dose of condescension. Okay get outta here.  Get to it.  Go away. We’ve heard enough from you. Goodbye.
Oh gooooosh, Levi us alone, okay? Shut it.  You hate your ex-mother-in-law okay. Welcome to the club. My ex-husband is the chairman. And by the gross, just as capable of knocking up white trash teenagers okay so you aint so special. We have heard enough from you and we would like to invite you to follow the view to Russia okay and don’t look back. Okay and thank you and goodbye.
Geh that is enough rubbish for one week. This is Josephine saying, shut up, we’ve heard enough and get outta here cause I’m done. It’s over. Geeesh. 
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Karen Hammberry Update

I am back to listening to Single Ladies a couple times in a row to get my morning started.

And unabashedly chair dancing at work.

Also, still no friends at work.
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Cat Update

She loves Beyonce.

Particularly, Diva and Single Ladies.
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Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Last one of the day- Ask Boyfriend

Dear Boyfriend,

When is Karebear Hammertime's day of birth?

Gossip Girl

Dear Gossip Girl,

Since here at Ask Boyfriend we are committed to over-complication and obfuscation, I have encoded the date of Miss Hammertime's birthdate in a Vigènere cipher. The keyword for use in decipherment can be found in the title of this blog. The first letter of the key starts at the letter in the title corresponding to the numeric position with a square root of 3. (Not including spaces, special characters or numbers)



[Ed Note: Your pop culture references (Gossip Girls) are completely lost on him.]
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Ask Boyfriend #3

 Dear Boyfriend,

Could ninjas win the war in Afghanistan?


Dear Anonymous,

I shall endeavor to break down your question into two parts. First, do ninjas posses talents that would allow them to "win" the war in Afghanistan? Ninjas would be entirely suitable for covert military action against the insurgents, seeing as how they were, by all accounts, extremely skilled at unorthodox military warfare, including but not limited to assassination of opposing leaders. The one problem would be the logistical nightmare of mustering a group of 15th century Japanese mercenaries, not to mention being able to round up enough Shichusen to satisfy their exorbitant fees.

Secondly, and this is a question that is implicitly raised by your first, should we, the member nations of Operation Enduring Freedom, employ ninjas as means to end the war? As we vainly attempt to sweep away the refuse of W's reign of terror, we should probably not employ what was widely viewed as a terrorist group in our war emotive nouns, although the Blackwater folks probably do style themselves as modern-day ninjas.

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Ask Boyfriend #2

Dear Boyfriend,
Will anyone develop a site that allows for inter-dating site searches such as fitness singles, jdate and I know personally, it would save me hundreds of hours of cross-referencing.

Dear Anonymous,

While I'm tempted to delve into the murky waters of data harvesting, your question seems to be more an overt display of your sexual proclivities rather than an attempt at honest elucidation. So dear readers, now you know, Anonymous is seeking a profligate, bodybuilding Israelite, and he/she is nothing if not a patient researcher.

Anonymous, if you do surmount this not insignificant challenge, make sure to give a hearty mazel tov on those toned gluts, rippling lats, and well-worn genitals, beacuse my friend, sexual partners of that bizarre composite are not often forged in the crucible of secular, prude, obese modern life.

Thank you,
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Ask Boyfriend #1

You should have just received an invite to join the WIT Fantasy Football League.  If you're interested, sign up by tomorrow afternoon and repond to this email to let me know you're in. 
I want to finalize our league by tomorrow night so we don't have to miss the first week of play!
4 of us have signed up already - there's room for 8 more.  Get on it!
Dear Mike,

Yes, I will join your fantasy football league. Although, given the time delay on responses here at Ask Boyfriend, as of writing this I have already done so, making this communication somewhat redundant. Furthermore, although we were unable to orchestrate the draft before the week one deadline, my merciless slaughter over you in the first match up, though null and void, was ever so sweet. I look forward to week ten, when I shall again feast upon the savory morsels of that shambling corpse buffet that you call a team.

Thank you,
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Best Video I have ever seen

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Worst Photoshopping

So, I totes forgot my camera for Boston, but I have another special treat.  The absolute worst photoshopping I have ever seen.  It's from Sky Mall.

Overall page, I think you can click on it to see it bigger.
First up is the worst job of wrinkles I have ever seen, it doesn't even look like a real person to begin with:

Woman whos skin tone and body changed, but hair ABSOLUTELY does not.

 Don't her hands look a tad... small?

 And lastly, not only is it a picture for butt implants, but somehow this woman can reach all the way around her body while keep her arm behind her boob.  I like that the wrinkle in the jean is added in, as if that makes this picture more believable.

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Monday, September 14, 2009


So Mythical Newsroom went up to Boston Improv Fest this past weekend.  I totes forgot my camera.

It wouldn't really have mattered because all the pictures would have looked like rain.

And I have a page from my Sky Mall, but I forgot it, so I will post that tomorrow.

I will just give a quick update.

Our show was at 8 o'clock on Friday night.

Jennifer and I meet at the airport around 2.  Our flight is at 3:30.  Plenty o'time to get to Boston check-in, freshen up (change our tamps), and get to the show.

But nopes, our flight is delayed.  We are now getting in around 7.

Honora is taking a bus up from THE New York City.  Her bus is stuck in traffic.

Panic spreads throughout the group.  WE MAY NOT MAKE THE SHOW.

We get to Boston and we are all taking $40 cabs to the venue.  We get to Improv Boston expecting them to have been worried about us, and totally relieved we have made it.

Not the case, even a little.  No one seems to care at all.  They are nice and helpful, but it was not the hero's welcome we were hoping for.  But since Mythical Newsroom is the nicest most supportive group in the world, we just turn the praise inward.  I think we get what we were looking for.

The show is a show.  Aparna makes me break and laugh on stage.  It's par for the course.  We drink beer.

On Saturday there is an improv workshop with Joe Bill.  He's kind of a huge deal and whatever.  To say the least, I am not impressive at the workshop. To say the most, I suck, I have weak characters and initiations.  Looks like this workshop is not my big break afterall.

I walk to the hotel by myself.  I don't really know how to get there.  I find a Rite Aid and make one of the worst decisions I have ever made.  I buy dark purple nail polish as a treat.  It's cheap.

I get back to the hotel, but I do not have a room key.  Not to worry, the front desk lady seems to buy that I am Aparna Nancherla.

I take a bath.  Watch Hoarders on A&E, and put on my nail polish treat.  By the first nail, I know this is not going well.  It's globby and sticky.  But it's dark purple and I have committed to it.

By the time I am done it looks like my fingers are badly burned, or they have hypothermia.  And the nail polish isn't drying and it's leaving purple marks everywhere.  It's gross and sad.  I feel desperate to get this nail polish off, what if Joe Bill has another spontaneous workshop?  And he asks me to be there, but he sees my absolutely disgusting nails and changes his mind?

I text Mythical Newsroom.  They save my improv career by buying me nail polish remover.

It works.  I am saved.  There is no surprise Joe Bill workshop.

We go to some shows, which were wonderful.  Then we drink more beer.  And then the line of the weekend happens.

We are sitting at a bar, and Aparna turns to me... 

Aparna: I wish we could have a party in our hotel room.

Me: Really? I don't really want a bunch of people in our room.

Aparna: A party to me is when we watch movies in our pajamas.

She is right, that is a party.  We go back to the hotel.
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Sunday, September 13, 2009


It has come to my attention that I have a birthday coming up next month.

I am thinking I should start lying about my age.  Not for vain reasons, but because I have accomplished so little I don't really deserve another year marker.
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Friday, September 11, 2009

Fake Comment Friday!

Hey yo!

It's here again!  Friday!! I had practically abadoned all hope.  And it's of course Fake Comment Friday!!! Yay!!!!!

I am up to Boston for the Bostom Improv Fest with Mythical Newsroom.  Pictures on Monday.
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Chapter One

There are two types of people, the type of people who put words on paper, and the type of people who read those words.  Get it?

She didn’t.  Not even a little, not even close to getting it.  But like every good girl she nodded, and zoned the fuck out.  She briefly went over her Academy Award acceptance speech, but that daydream was starting to get old. Stale. She needed a new one to keep her going until at least Thanksgiving break.

Her teacher had moved on now, talking about when she was in college. Her professor told her that she was very talented, and could probably write something beautiful if she put some effort into it.  The teacher turned to the class after the last statement looking as if she expected some sort of gasp, or nod of agreement, as if these 5th graders had always held that opinion of her as well.

Little fuckers.

Leila sighed.  I cannot wait to be a teenager, she thought.  I cannot fucking wait.  But she didn’t think fucking.  She wouldn’t have that kind of vocabulary until later on in life, but she felt fucking.  She felt like she needed to get out of that fucking school, and out of this fucking life.  She started to imagine what life would be like if she ran away.

I will only pack a few things, but not so many that when Mom and Dad come into my room looking for me it's obvious that I have packed anything.  Just my tie-dyed shirt with the lace at the bottom, leggings, and my journal.  And some gold fish crackers.  And my guinea pig, Doodle. Wait, that could get messy. But I don’t want to leave Doodle. 

Okay, Doodle had just died.  And we had a big funeral for him, and the whole block came, and we hung Christmas lights up in the trees, and we had lanterns with candles in them.  And I wore a black veil.

The Doodle funeral coasted Leila into lunch time.  FINALLY. Ms. Ramilo had just finished reading from The Indian in the Cupboard. And was she crying?  It looked like there might be a tear in her eye.  Leila decided it was best for her to check.

Ms. Ramilo, were you crying? It’s okay if you were.  It’s a very healthy way to express your emotions.

No, Leila, I wasn’t crying.  The Indian in the Cupboard is not a particularly sad book.

Well, the native American people were basically completely wiped out by the white man.  I think that’s sad.

Little Fucker.

Leila was off to lunch.
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Thursday, September 10, 2009


**submitted words from last week are the BOLD (& the BEAUTIFUL) in this week's entry**

Dear Reading Rain-bros and Sissy-Boom-Bahs (We're all in the family now!),

Thank youze all so berry berry* kindly for responding to my inaugurallying cry for help of a post. I sinceriously appreciated the four blind anonymice** cammants, as well as the three cammants proudly waving their shapely name tails, all seven squeakers united by their synonymouse content on MY FIRST POST (to jog, or let's be honest, powerwalk your memories a bit).

In briefcase anybuddy was trying to challenge my smelly feats of word-wrangling strength, well, just know that this isn't work for me! (I never filled out my I-9 so just W-4get about it!) It's a Kit Kat break and then some. Bar none. Speaking of bars...

Happy is the hour in which I get to sit and make punny online just by filling out surveys I wrote myself. Too bad punny doesn't put drink specials and half-off jalapeño poppers on the table. Though it does pay for wink specials and a quarter-off self-esteem dip with chips-on-shoulders.

But I am the grande nachos-en one, and I accept my dark horse role with a glorious shimmy in front of every stoneface I might encounter! What a Gorgon-tuan ordeal, some might rasp, but I simply say: "Lend me your corn ears and your potato eyes, and we'll take a syllabic swim in the wordy waters! Don't be scared. No loan sharks will bite off your ears at a bumped up disinterest rate and no pool sharks will take their cues to jab you in the eyes."

We might have a grand ol' time though. Some might even call it a dimplecrime, we'll smile so much. We'll end up doing hard candy time in Jawbreaker Jail after being tried Nutrasweetly (artificial kindness = the worst!!) by the Peppermint Police. I think that's unfair warning enough.

See you later, alligatourists. In a croco-while! I've run out of patience and into impatience, y'see!

Shank You Very Moochily,

Jolly Rancherla (now with bubbles!)

*That's one grateful raspberry and one most appreciative strawberry.

**The fourth blind mouse was the lesser known brother, watch the E! True Nurseryhood Story to get the stinky cheesy deets.

[Ed Note: Leave your stumper words in the comments for next week.]
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Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Wednesday Feature- Josephine's Thoughts on Pop Culture

Ah gez, oh brother, oh boy. Okay, we got another top notch round of celebri-tardations this week. Nice work, Hollyweird!

Oh god, great, good goodness, okay Lindsay. Whattar you doing? Your face looks like it's been sat on for 3 days. You're young kid, lay off the botard-oxins. You're reminding me of the gutter slut my ex-husband has been foinking for 25 years. Okay enough. And okay, I'm thinkin', well don't look at her face but then I have to look at them shanties that are failing at covering her nasties. Get outta here with that barely there outter wear, okay. Please, and next and thank you goodbye.
Alright so okay that brings me to another one who is on the fast track to 2-dollar porn at the cini-wreck-your-life. Ah, geez, okay Miley whattar you doing? Sorry kid, but you're a dumb dumb okay? And when you make noise it makes me wanna stick my head in the garbage disposal. Okay and incidentally, this just in okay that is where your life is headed with that outfit okay. Enough, done, outta here and goodbye.
Oh geez nubits and a big dose of who cares goes to that Megan Fox-afterhours-is-where-my-career-belongs. Gross. Okay, I feel like I'm contracting syphilis through TV, okay, and I dont need it. Right, cause then my good for nothin ex-husband might come a knockin' back as he seems to be drawn to dirty pieces of garbage. Can't pay the rent with garbage, Floyd, okay so try again ya pile of junk that should be at the bottom of the Pacific. Get outta here, go, enough, I can't take anymore of this and goodbye.
Okay well I could go on for hours but who has the time and I can't take anymore of this none for sense anyway so I guess I'll just have to catch ya the next train to enough, get outta here.
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Poo Update

You don't have to read this if you don't want to.  And I will try to stay vague so as not to be completely fowl (quack quack).

You know when sometimes you are like.  Op, here it comes, and you hussle your way into a stall.  And then it's like plop plop, it's over?  But then you take a quick peak, and you are like Holy Ghost of Poop that's like an entire intestine full.

Well that happened to me today.
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On the bus

On the bus this morning this woman was sort of giving me a shifty eye, and half smile.  And I was all "I don't know you."

As I was getting off I realized we had the same umbrella.  Lady, I am sorry for not seeing this earlier.

Life is so stupid and hard, and I completely missed a few moments of joy we could have had. A few moments of togetherness between two strangers.

Then if we ever saw each other again we could at least smile, and be neighborly and what not.  And if someone did something annoying on the bus we would have someone to roll eyes with.  She might be having a get together soon, and would invite me.  I would put her on WIT's mailing list.

Before you know it we are fast friends, and she is dying and has millions of dollars.  AND SHE GIVES IT TO ME!  And then I don't have to freakin' work.

Almost all my day dreams lately have ended in me not working.  I wonder what that could mean.

But truly lady, millions aside, I am sorry.
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Tuesday, September 08, 2009

Tuesday Feature- Ask Boyfriend


What dating website should I use?  Chemisty or match or eharmony, etc?

Besides the Hair Cuttery where can I meet straight guys with disposable income?

Dear Anonymous Two-Parter,

While my knowledge of the universe at-large hovers near the omniscience of a bearded, vengeful, Christian god, I cannot in good conscience relate to you the merits of a particular dating site over those of another because I am woefully ill-equipped to do so. What I can do however, is tell you which to steer clear of. First, if you have a soul, avoid eHarmony. Their decision to not include same-sex matching is perhaps actually because of their stated reason, that they did not do research on homosexual compatibility, but I'm going to go out on a limb and chalk it up to its founder, Neil Clark Warren, a practicing Evangelical and his association with James Dobson and Focus on the Family. Intolerant Fuckers... Anyhow, the second "dating" site I would urge you to bypass is Craigslist. Just remember that while he may be a snappily dressed med student with a heart of gold, I suspect you don't want to end up dead in a Rhode Island Holiday Inn Express.

Your second question is quite easily answered. The following is a list of places where one can meet heterosexual males with disposable income, ordered by ascending level of creepiness and descending amount of cash-flow. GameStop, RadioShack, comic book store, and online dating site.

Thank you,
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Tuesday Feature- Ask Boyfriend


Can you ride a bike on a treadmill?

Xoxo alaina

Dear Alaina,

The answer to your query is dependent upon the intended purpose of the activity. If you are asking if it is physically possible, then certainly it is, provided you do not try it at a high speed with a fixed-gear bicycle, as that could easily result in dismemberment, if not death. If however, you are asking with the intent to utilize the activity as a means of physical exertion for the purpose of health improvement, then no, it's not particularly practical or viable. You see, with a normal bicycle (one capable of coasting), a person need not pedal at all, the wheels will simply spin with the traction generated by the moving tread, and the act of pedaling at higher speeds or at an incline would most likely result in a loss of control, with painful, possibly hilarious consequences. If one were DIY-inclined ( accomplished welder) and financially incapable of exchanging currency for this apparatus (but you already own a treadmill...?), there is the option of rigging up something like this.

As an aside, you will note that I used "possibly" when describing the potential comedic outcome of riding a bike on a treadmill. I hedged my bets thusly because while I can't deny that the act is a rich loam, undoubtedly capable of yielding amusing crops, there was a marked dearth of humor in the youtube offerings on the subject. Here is an example. In order to make up for said defect, here is an America's Funniest Videos compilation for your gloomy Tuesday amusement.

Thank you,
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Tuesday Feature- Ask Boyfriend

Second Response

Dear Boyfriend,

Long time reader, first time commenter. I was hoping you might share some of your insights on what it means to be an adult.

A. Manchild

Dear A. Manchild,

My initial reaction to your question is to swing directly into discussion of the linguistic significance of the meaning of adulthood as a cultural concept, but since you are asking for insight, I shall veer from the academic path and attempt to offer whatever flash first penetrates the dark paucity of my sagaciousness.

Over the course of human history, the coming of age has been marked by various rituals; the taking of an enemy's life, spending a single or multiple nights in a coffin, or paying 30k+ for liberal arts babysitting. For myself, the passage into adulthood means that when a kind soul points out that your shoes are untied, you don't look down to see that your fly is also unzipped. There is undeniable maturity in the ability to successfully clothe oneself.

Thank you,
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Tuesday Feature- Ask Boyfriend


...why doesn't boyfriend just take over this blog? I love this.

Dear Chris,

Your adulation is much appreciated, if somewhat misplaced. Without Ms. Hamberry at the helm of this web log, 'Ask Boyfriend' would lose all context and indeed the very appellation that gives it meaning. 'Twould no longer be 'Ask Boyfriend,' and instead simply lie dormant amongst the thronging multitudes of bloggers who believe the populous of this blue planet should keenly tune their collective ears to and train their beady eyes upon the steamy, unpalatable piles of detritus that are the voiding of those bloggers' thought-bowels.

I for one, would not care to tread that road, obstructed as it is. Rather, I would have my path freed of noxious lumps by my contribution to this most wonderful of blogs. A coat if you will, laid down to aid a lady (or boyfriend) in crossing the pestilential leakage, with a hand to guide these uneven steps.

Thank you,
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Monday, September 07, 2009

The Farm

A couple weeks ago I visited my grandparents, and I went to THE Farm.  A combination farm petting zoo, its a magical fucking place.  Seriously, I have been going there since I thought I could grow up and be a puppy.  Not to be all braggstown, but my family has a VIP pass, so whatever, but we are important, and thusly don't have to pay.
You buy little bottles and bags of corn, and then you get to feed the animals.  This baby goat was not the cutest by far, but he had tenacity, and I respect that.

These goats had a whole act like they had never been fed before.  Boyfriend totes fell for it.

Norman, the baby bull, was a sweetie pie cutesy.

But here is the piece de resistance (said in a Texas accent):

And he had a very special technique where he would just open his mouth, and you would chuck in the corn.

Lastly here is a picture Boyfriend took of a peacock, because relationships are all about compromise. And if I didn't post it he would be all "Why didn't you post a peacock picture?  I am leaving you."

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Saturday, September 05, 2009


It's weird when the only thing you know about your neighbors is the name of their wireless network.

G + B
Linksys 232
Linky Link
Lord Vader
Alex's Guest Network

I am guessing I would probs get along with Lord Vader, unless he's the guy who lives above us and is always making sounds like he's dribbling a basketball.
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Friday, September 04, 2009

Fake Comment Friday!

Now is the time where I leave myself a bunch of fake comments to pretend like people are reading my blog.  Feel free to join in.
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So, where you guys at on Funny Farm?  Boyfriend and I have been merging and we now have 11 squares open.  Not that it's been taking up all my free time at work, which technically doesn't exist because I should be working or whatever.

I didn't take a shower this morning because I thought getting 15 more minutes of sleep would help me not feel like total shit right now.  I have made this choice time and time again, yet I always feel like shit.  The solution?  No, it's not taking a shower, it's actually not fucking drinking so much on a Thursday.....

I don't know even typing it right now feels stupid.  How is a person supposed to accomplish that?  Especially when that person is me?

Quick Cat update:  She can now climb on the back of the couch and the back of the bed.  Who gives a fuck, right?  She does it like she's so fucking special, but she is still scared when I move to quickly by her.  What a dummy.
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Thursday, September 03, 2009

How Not to Suck with Carolime Rearberry

Carolime Rearberry is motivational speaker and life coach.  She is going to stop by from time to time and let you know: How Not to Suck.

As a Co-worker:
- Don't be the guy who sends annoying e-mail forwards
- Pants and Shirts should always meet in the middle.  No one should ever see your tummy...or butt crack
- Shower- you smell
- Not too much cologne or perfume- you smell
- Don't pack a smelly lunch, either
- Don't load your poorly done work onto a co-worker because you're lazy
- Don't load your poorly done work onto a co-worker because you're imcompetant
- Don't load your poorly done work onto a co-worker in general
- Change the water cooler.  Even girls can do it.
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Addictive Internets

A word puzzle that I do not really understand, yet can't stop playing:

A totes cool music dealio, you need headphones or to be able to hear sound:

Anywhoozle, work is great, thank you for asking.
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Salutations Human Fava Beans,

It is I, A-pun-arna, here to introduce the latest segment of the weekly blogging very pun-gry caterpillar, boldly entitled STUMP THE PUNNER.

In which I, your humble mumble of a servant, will ask you to submit me some zip-zappy, hip-snappy, slaphappy word challenges in the cammants section, and then I will go to it as well as "do it to it," as the kid(ney bean)s say.

Remembers only the following Wiz-dom: "Be strong, be tidy. Like Mr. Clean." and "All work and no wordplay makes Jack a dull Beanstalker."

Your Punstoppable Pundit,
Aparty Funcherla

P.s.S.t. If anybooty, and I mean any butt within 5 bandwidths of this blorgh, dares to groan/moan or harrumph/garrumph at any of these here puns, you will have punother one coming. And that is a Promise spread on wheat toast (which is what you'll be...TOAST).

[So, please try and stump the punner!  Leave words, or phrases in the comments, and see A-pun-arna can make a pun out of it.]
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Wednesday, September 02, 2009

Wednesday Feature- Josephine's Thoughts on Pop Culture

We all know and lurve her from the comments, but here she is in her Wednesday Feature:

Josephine's Thoughts on Pop Culture

Hey listen, okay. There’s a lot goin on in tinsel town that Billy Bush and inter-web people keep blabbin about. Alright so I’ve stayed quiet for long enough see and I’m ready so speak up, okay.

Hey K-Fed, okay. You look like you swallowed an innertube. Okay, I wasn’t interested when you we’re borkin that baby-one-more-time so I definitely aint interested now. Okay, ‘nough already. Get lost.

Okay. Jon Gosslin, listen okay. Enough. Whatter you wearing? Huh, what is that? Why what who what is how, you’re a sicko, okay. And we’re sick of it. Hey, your 15 minutes is calling and ya know what he’s sayin; it’s over, okay. So do us a favor, okay; take a long walk off a short pier. Sick. Gross. You look like you swallowed an innertube.

Okay. Ugh, gosh, Jeremy Piven. Yuck. Okay, whodya think you’re kidding with that hair, huh? You look ridiculous okay. Enough. I don’t know why those hollyweirdos give ya all them accolades for just acting like the jerkbrain you are in real life. Get outta here okay. You’re gabage. Get lost. I’m done with ya. Go swallow an innertube, okay.

Geesh, that’s all I can take for one week. This is Josephine saying enough already, get lost.
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New Ruling:
If you don't sneak French Fries when possible, we can no longer be friends. Well, I mean we probs could, but we'd have some issues to work out first.
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Tuesday, September 01, 2009

Tuesday Feature- Ask Boyfriend

Hi Boyfriend,

I am planning on making some big life choices in the next few months and I was wondering if you could make them for me. I don't really enjoy my field of work and I've been thinking about going back to school to get a master's degree in a different, more specialized field. Education is EXPENSIVE though. Do you think student loans are worth it, or should I just try something else new that doesn't require an additional degree?

Also, because school is EXPENSIVE and I'm not sure what I want to do when I finish the job I have now- should I move back in with my parents to save money or try to find a cheap place to live so I'm still on my own?

Can you just tell me the winning lotto numbers so I don't have to worry about any of these things?

New Jobberry

Dear New Jobberry,

Given that I am unaware of the specific intricacies of you personal life, I must respond to what I can infer from your textual query, and I do hope that this approach is adequate. You state that you are planning on "making some big life choices," which you proceed to describe as A. either delving into academia further or switching jobs, and B. Moving in with your parents or finding a financially viable domicile and thus remaining 'independent'. I must first address your initial statement about big choices. "Big" as a qualifier of import relating to decisions, is perhaps the wrong approach to this situation and implies a certain level of irreversibility to the possible scenarios as well as temporal imperative in their making. You have time and nothing is permanent (except death), so make choices, make mistakes, and live.

Both parts of your question seem to also hinge on the monetary impact the path you are choosing to tread. The conventional sentiment is that school loans are the best type of debt, and while this is undoubtedly true in a fiscal sense, I suspect your concern should be more aligned with your personal interests than affairs of hard currency. If there is a particular area of study out there that really piques your interest, portentous nightmares of dire financial ruin on the other side should have no bearing on that decision. You will come through, I promise. Should you "just try something else new that doesn't require a degree?" Sure, fuck it, who needs traditional schooling, do nothing more or less than what you think will make you happy. This applies to your living situation as well. Do you see moving back in with your parents as regression? Do you place value in the significance of being on your own? Do you like your parents? Do you like yourself?

Live on a commune in that Dakotas, raising alfalfa, move to Bollywood and try to be an actor, work at a non-profit office job in DC with long hours for minimal salary but with good intentions, move back in with your parents and eat whatever your ethnicity's version of Sunday family dinner is each and every Sunday or whatever day of the week is important to eating. There is no wrong answer here, it's your life. I have faith that until you shuffle off this mortal coil you will make decisions that will make you happy, sad, frustrated, elated, the whole gamut. That's life motherfucker and it's beautiful and pointless, and it's yours.

Thank you,

[Submit questions for Boyfriend in the comments, and answers will come out next Tuesday]
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You know it's going to be a good day when there is no one in the work bathroom, and you get to poop in peace.
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Tuesday Feature- Ask Boyfriend

Hello Boyfriend,

How can I track how many people are reading this comment?

Thanks You!

Hairball Queen

Your Exhaltedness, Hairball Queen, Ruler of All that is Good and Holy,

I must admit you have me at somewhat of a disadvantage with your question, oh hoary mistress. For one, you, as a reader and commenter, (and wrathful overlord) do not have access to i<3gilmoregurlz's web tracking utilities, and unless you are hiding some not inconsiderable hacking skills in one of your Bezoar subjects, can't break in and find that information. That aside, you could simply ask the lovely proprietor of this site for the information, but there's a wrinkle to that approach as well. Unfortunately it is not especially feasible to track pageviews or unique visitors to the comments on a post that is not self hosted, but rather exists as a subdomain of Blogger. When a user clicks on the comments link, the pop-up page that appears bears the following Uniform Resource Locator:

The traffic for that page can't be tracked directly by the tracking code on this site as it exists within the purview of Thankfully, one can generally track what a user clicks on and thus get an approximation of how many times that page was accessed via the site, or see how many visitors have looked at the single post page, assuming of course that they would want to partake of the wit and wisdom of your majesty's comment.

With that said, the number stands at approximately 47.5 people.

Thank you,
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