Monday, February 28, 2005

My Bologna Has a First Name

Far-distant-future scientists working with hypersensitive technologies beyond our puny modern ken* may come up with a nano-unit to express the degree to which I give a shit about the Oscars, but they sure aren't there yet. There are (I am told) entire subcults within the porn audience driven into paroxysms at the spectacle of a spinally pliable man gobbling his own perpendicular bisector -- but the frisson stirred by such a sideshow event is as dust in the wind compared to the movie industry performing the same feat. Suck away, say I.

*My sources advise me that the Puny Modern Ken won a a nod for Best Self-Fellating in a Short Feature, but this is as yet unconfirmed.

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