Another week, another half-assed clusterfuck of a blog. Let's get this insipid bullshit over with.

• Once again, Marjorie Skinner posted what appears to be every single moment of a television show made exclusively for trust-funded teenage girls and elderly homosexuals.

• Erik Henriksen wrote an excellent post that reminds us all—once again, and in exacting detail—why he will die alone.

• Wm. Steven Humphrey instigated an inane conversation about a television show made exclusively for acne-slathered virgins. Query, Mr. Humphrey: Does your nitwit editorial staff do anything other than watch terrible television?

• Alex Zielinski continued to give downtown's drug-addled deadbeats undeserved attention, this time asking, "What's up with down twinkles?" Here's an answer for you, Ms. Zielinski: SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH.

• Perpetual shut-in Sarah Mirk wrote about some bars where people who aren't shut-ins go.

• Ned Lannamann posted a Journey video. Let us be clear, Mr. Lannamann: Journey is no Boston. Boston is no J. Geils Band. And until it starts including my articles about J. Geils Band, the Mercury's Music section will remain a fetid piece of shit.

• Alison Hallett sneered her way through a snide little post about someone thinner and more successful than her.

• Denis C. Theriault examined Randy Leonard's reaction to downtown's filthy freeloaders. I did not read this post, as I was distracted by the picture of a clown asking me to "blow" it. No, sir or madam! You blow me! And leave the mask on while you do so.

I will return next week, and not one moment before. I urge you to do the same.