• A "think piece" from Alison Hallett? HA! Good one, you navel-gazing airhead! You will die alone and your cat will eat your body.
• During one of his many lonely walks, Wm. Steven Humphrey saw some hobos fucking. Sticken and aroused by the novelty of such an exquisitely erotic sight, he crafted another inspid poll. Next time post some pictures, you selfish jagoff.
• Consider this, half-literate "readers" of Blogtown: We live in an age in which a heavyset white gentleman with tasteful facial hair can be fired merely for giving some doddering old hippies a piece of his mind. Alex Zielinski reported on this grave injustice.
• Sarah Mirk nearly broke her pea-sized brain trying to figure out what "art" is. Turns out Ms. Mirk is actually a 13-year-old girl writing an essay for her honors art history class! Pfft. Don't act like you're surprised.
• Ned Lannamann mumbled on and on about something called a "Mott the Hoople." Are you fucking kidding me, Mr. Lannamann? You must be fucking kidding me. Please tell me you're fucking kidding me. Then go read some more Dr. Seuss, you developmentally disabled cretin. (Perhaps this is a bit more clear, Mr. Lannamann: Oobie doople doople, retard.)
• In her endlessly annoying quest for the least-relevant news of the century, Marjorie Skinner wrote something about dweeb shoes.
• Continuing his recent trend, Ezra "Ace" Caraeff did little else but toot his own horn (a colloquialism which I use here in both its self-promotional and masturbatory meanings). This week, he repeatedly bragged about a guide he'd written for another local weekly's music festival. Kudos, Team Mercury! God forbid you actually put on a music festival of your own, you lazy fatasses.
• Rarely do any of you dipshit commenters actually contribute anything worthwhile—to Blogtown, to society, to anything—but this week, one of you witless turds actually said something legitimate: Erik Henriksen is a pussy.
I will return next week, and not one moment before. I urge you to do the same.