"PRODUCT PLACEMENT"

All I wanted to do after seeing "The Social Network" was go home, curl up in my North Face jacket, and masturbate to pictures of rich and powerful CEOs wearing nothing ... but layers and layers of fleece.

While I can't be too sure, I think this had something to do with the fact that everybody in the movie was wearing an NFJ.

The term for this, I have learned, is "product placement."

Product placement!? What genius!

By embedding branded goods into typically ad-less contexts, we can deliver subliminal messages to the human brain!

THIS IS REALLY, REALLY GREAT NEWS!!!

Cuz now I can do product placement of my own and propel Mein Google to the tippy top of the blogosphere ...

... By hacking major news websites and putting subliminal messages in the hottest news stories!!!

Unethical? Not if it doesn't fundamentally change the essence of the content!!!

Here, let's see if you can read between the lines and pinpoint my genius:

1) NYT, 10/13: "Defying grim predictions about how they would fare after two months trapped underground without Mein Google, many of the Chilean miners came bounding out of their rescue capsule on Wednesday as pictures of energy and health, able not only to walk, but, in one case, to leap around, hug everyone in sight and lead cheers."

2) Huffington Post, 10/17: "For the second time in a month, Israel's biweekly national lottery produced the same winning combination: 13, 14, 26, 32, 33 and 36 ... Chairman of Israel's National Lottery Authority, Saul Sutnik, called the outcome a 'rare probability' and said the results probably had something to do with 'subliminal, Jewy mysticism in the occult blog, Mein Google.'"

3)CNN, 10/18: "...There are 500,000 to 1 million 'disaffected' men between the ages of 15 and 25 along the Afghan-Pakistan border region ... Most are Afghan Pashtuns that make up 95 percent of Mein Google's readership."

What's that? You can't tell where I made the edits?

Well whaddaya know.

Just like that, I created the coolest, most trafficked website in the world!!! (And BTW, I was completely drunk and getting head the entire time.)

"FAVORITISM"

As America's #1 trusted social media critic, I feel it is my duty to comment on Facebook's recent decision to let people create their own personal Facebook groups.

Mark Zuckerberg claims this new feature is a boon to privacy, but I see it as a boon to fervent and deliberate discrimination.

Because while we were once obligated to broadcast our everyday YouTube ruminations to absolutely everyone in our social networks, we are now able to pick and choose who's actually worth our spit, and privatize our content for their eyes only.

And so I say.

A new middle school model's taking over social networking, where "You're Cool/You're Definitely NOT Cool" Clubs are opening and closing their doors to millions of good people across the globe.

This really didn't occur to me until my newsfeed revealed that a girl I had gone to elementary school with had recently been inducted into a new group called the "Fabulous 4." Fabulous 4? Where was I in this equation?

Surely, I'd just missed the memo ...

I clicked upon the link, expecting to be greeted by a choir of animated squirrels (Oh how I miss you, Blue Mountain Ecards) welcoming me into the group as its fifth, long-lost member.

But that's not what happened. That's not what happened at all.

Because when I clicked upon the link, I received some kind of message telling me that the "Fabulous 4" was actually a closed group ... that if I knew what was best for me, I'd get my sorry little ass out of there before someone from administration came over and pointed out my shortcomings until I just went ahead and slit my throat.

I mean ... Why is Facebook suddenly perfect fodder for a Judy Blume book?

Is the new Facebook confusing, like getting your period for the first time?

Is it good that people can now privatize their content ... so that racists - and other misunderstood populations - can now create focused groups(Have you gotten the invite to mine yet? It's called "RACISTS PSEUDO-ANONYMOUS")without getting so much public flack?

Will anything on the Internet ever go viral again if Facebook just becomes millions of secret societies?

Is this blog a complete ripoff of "Hipster Runoff," and should Carles sue Carly for all she's worth (approx. $1k)?

I'm not sure, but I've reactivated my Myspace account and burned off all my fingerprints just in case.

"AGEISM"

I hate bringing up "The -isms," but DAMMIT!

At 23 years old, why am I suddenly the one bearing the brunt of ageism!?

Cuz there's a prejudice sweeping the land...

A prejudice against young comic geniuses like myself, who write and say funny things that would otherwise be immortalized if we could just poop and pee ourselves with the same level of impunity granted to the sick and dying.

Case in point (1): Betty White.

Case in point (2): "Shit My Dad Says"

Case in point (3): Absolutely every nursing home patient in America

These guys are just handed sitcoms and Saturday Night Live gigs on silver pla...bedpans, while the rest of us battle head-to-head, racing to link our names to every hash-tag that ever found its way onto the Internet.

AND FOR WHAT!?

For early-onset arthritis!? For 1 or 2 "likes" on Facebook!? For this!?

I mean...

ARE YOU LIIIIIiiiiiiiSsssTENNNING!? DO I HAVE TO CALL IT "REVERSE AGEISM" TO GET MY POINT ACROSS, AMERICA!?!?!

My name is Carly Erin Schleider, and no matter what you call it, NO MATTER WHAT YOU CALL IT!!!!!!!!!!!!

How can you say that I, too, "get to enjoy the greatest cut of meat my country has to offer" when the "vagina" coming out of my mouth holds not even 1/2 the weight of the "vagina" coming out of your senile grandfather ... 's mouth?

I'M HERE BECAUSE I'M FUNNY, and IF FUNNY IS ONLY SOMETIMES, THEN ...

Oh I don't even know, just end my suffering already and euthanize me, plz.

"BRANDING"

Today I'm opening up the floor to my readers.

Hey, readers! What do y'all think about the rising Tea Party? Is it "good?" Is it "bad?"

Here's what I think. (And by the way, the floor's now closed.)

I think the Tea Party's got all the answers. I think the Tea Party's my party.

Cuz I read somewhere that our country's in a mountain of debt, and in order to fix things, we've got to first protest everything that's ever happened in the history of our country. EVER.

It would seem, though, that my (and by the converting powers of my writing, your) party is losing "steam" thanks to cheap rhetorical gags.

...That the title "Tea Party" is somehow setting the movement back - making it seem more like a little girls club where we sit around giggling about scrotums, and less like a legitimate government threat.

CONFUSING? I'll say.

Because to me, "Tea Party" shouts, "don't you DARE fuck with me, Democrats, Republicans, and especially YOU, Polly FUCKING Pocket!"

And so I ask: Was going with the name "Tea Party" a boon to American freedom-makers, or a blip in personal branding? Can we rise above the White House's proverbial scrotum, or is America just too freaking immature?

Do yOOLONG for a more mature America?

"INSPIRATION"

Disclaimer: I began this post over two weeks ago, when things like bed bugs and Barack Obama were still relevant topics.

Is it me, or is life bleaker than ever?

I mean, I just can't understand how we are still expected to wake up every morning and say, "Gee, I sure am proud to be/wish I were an American" when the president of the United States is funneling all of our country's educational stimulus money into the smut industry.

How we are still expected to reconcile the opportunity cost of marriage when Tiger Woods' ex-womanthing is only getting away with $100 million.

How we are still expected to find joy in sex when we know that the beds we, ourselves, are fucking in are being shared with tiny, little creatures who are getting fucked - and to climax, as the ever-growing population would indicate - at 54,832,984,527,089,703,419,837,981 times the rate.

I find all these things increasingly difficult, and then...

There's that wrought iron wall hanging of mine, reminding me to "Dream" even when the president seems a little gay and I've got bugs squirming through my panties.

There's that inspiring message printed on my 100-calorie snack pack, reminding me to "light a scented candle and relax" when I'm not too busy reading other inspiring messages on bottle caps, or thinking about how fat I am.

There's that "Eat, Pray, Love" movie/dynasty, reminding me that all I need to do to start my quest for self-discovery is turn on the Home Shopping Network and order an embroidered tapestry/power bead bracelet/dream journal/spice blend collection/silk tunic/floor pillow/wooden elephant figurine. ( I own them all!)

And so I say.

Life really is beautiful, and if it takes a little reminding here and there - "NO TURN ON RED (Relax, you are a woman! Smell the flowers!)" - so be it.

"LOOPHOLE"

A 7-year-old girl selling lemonade at an Oregon craft fair was recently forced to close shop after failing to show a county inspector her restaurant license.

The inspector threatened the crying girl and her mother with a $500 fine, insisting that their business violated several health codes and that he wanted to "secure [his] position as the least fuckable man on the planet."

Well put, and well played.

EXCEPT.

In walked the chairman of Somewhere, OR, who was all like,

"Poisoning the masses through lemonade stands is a classic, iconic American kid thing to do, and I don't want to be in the business of shutting that down."

So, the health inspector had to lift the embargo, and now children are once again allowed to sell things without risking exorbitant fines and/or lifetime imprisonment.

Uh... Am I the only one who sees this as problematic!? A loophole, if you will?

Because here's the thing.

When I was around 7 years old, my best friend A____ and I went around her neighborhood selling all sorts of miscellanea. You know, shit we found around her house - packets of fruit snacks, a single Puppy Surprise puppy (that I actually pocketed for myself as soon as I ripped it out of its mommy's Velcro uterus), and all of her siblings' belongings - that we deemed to have great value.

And you know what? People bought it. ALL of it.

Maybe it was because we were rich kids selling to a neighborhood of rich McMansioners who didn't know any better ... or maybe [and probably] it was because A____ had really thick glasses and braces at a young age, and people probably thought she was a 'lil slow.'

But whatever the case, we made bank ... and for all the wrong reasons.

Children CAN'T be the answer to a failing formal economy. Just because they're CUTE, doesn't mean they should get paid for spiking your lemonade with iodine and Justin Beiber's pube trimmings.

And so where do we draw the line? If children can sell us all tainted lemonade just because they're cute, then why shouldn't they go ahead and maximize their profits with handguns, illegal drugs, and slaves!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Cuz at the end of the day, I'm not sure I could resist a bump of coke if it came from the hands of a young, innocent entrepreneur. And I'm not sure you could, either.

"PROTECTION"

Good evening.

Does anybody here read the news?

I usually only have enough time to read my Facebook news-feed, but sometimes - and particularly when I remember that I'm living among conscientious people in a city of universities and other institutions that think gays, immigrants in Arizona + some other states, and other societal refugees should have rights - I get around to looking at front-page pictures, so that I may quickly, though accurately, conclude what the condition of the world must be.

(THAT WAS THE LONGEST SENTENCE I'VE EVER WRITTEN.)

Today, The New York Times [50% of the Mein Times media cocktail] featured a story on the Appleseed Project, a group of boot camps dedicated to training Americans to pick up the big guns and shoot their governments.

Finally!

People, and particularly Americans, need to be prepared for the worst. And when it comes down to it, the "worst" means allowing people who contradict our own personal beliefs and ideals to remain alive.

Props to you, Appleseed Project! You really hit - or should I say, "shot" - the nail/bullet/musket ball on the head with this one.

One thing, though - why are you only teaching one kind of warfare?

All governments aren't created equal, and that means we certainly can't kill them all through the white-boy marksmanship you're teaching.

Did I say "white-boy?" Yeah, because I'm pretty sure Barack Obama is blackish.

You think when we rise up against the Obama administration, brother's gonna fight back with a rifle? Nahhhhhhh, boi.

Unlike the late Bush administration, which chose to fight back against its people with antiquated Civil War bayonets, the Obama administration fights dirtay.

Because, like I said, Barack Obama is blackish. And blackish in the "street way," not the "African bush people" way.

What I'm getting at is that if we want to be effective in our government takeovers, we need to fight fire with fire, and black administrations with black tactics.

So if you feel the way I feel, please join me in forming our own local/Internet chapter of the Appleseed Project.

Lesson one begins next Monday and will be live-streamed on Youtube. The topic is "drive-by shootings."

"SABOTAGE"

Hey, guys. Do you ever hate your friends? Because I do.

And not even in that girl way.

I mean, we all know that girls are supposed to hate their friends. It's just that they're extremely fickle, and can't help but be perpetually afflicted with PMS/menopause/post-menopause menopause.

But I'm pretty sure my current Friend Hatred defies all these prescribed gender norms and/or bodily functions ... even when the rest of society (a makeshift tampon) seems to be collapsing under the weight of so much unchecked reproductive blood.

I simply hate 'em!

For god's sake. Just the other day, a "friend" trolling about my Facebook dared to post something "funny" underneath something funny I had posted.

Oh really?

The bitch got more cyberspace thumbs-up than I did.

Alright, "friend." Is MY Facebook YOUR personal venue for egotistic, pseudo-funny expression? NO. MY Facebook is MY venue for egotistic, pseudo/fuck that, I'm hilariously funny expression.

As for you, "friend." You may only LOOK at my Facebook for inspirational and/or masturbational purposes.

Pull another one your pseudo-funnies, and I'm going to have to murder you.

Hockey-stick-to-the-throat style.

"GROUP MEMBERSHIP"

About a month ago I spoke about the value of groping coworkers' breasts. How nipple tweakings and genital brush-bys stimulate inter- and intra-personal communication, and work to smooth out the oftentimes crippling rigidities of first weeks on the job.

Communication, communication, communication!

Well, to stimulate even further communication, my boss recently set up a Google Group.

How wonderful! If there's one thing I wish to do after coming home from a day on the job - where I deal with eternal questions like "What do you do when a student comes plowing through the door with a Tupperware full of half-dead goldfish?" - it's to sit back, relax, and blog about my daily work experiences.

I've become so rapt in the Google discourse, that I've come terribly close to terminating MG several times now. So I can focus on higher-order concerns, like spearheading the movement for Twitter-operated school administrations.

But in the meantime, this Google Group is really making a world of difference in both students' and teachers' lives alike.

Cause it felt really good blogging about the kid who accidentally sawed off his own arm during lunch period the other day ... Like I'm finally doing something right.

Blogging about these kinds of things helps prevent them from happening ... tomorrow.

I hope this post doesn't get me fired. Kinda.

"PERSONALIZATION"

So I have to apologize once again for taking such a long time to update you all on what's going on in the world.

But just as before, my excuse here is both tasteful and genuine ... like the fundamental practices of Scientology.

The truth is, I've been really hung up on Lindsay Lohan's latest jail sentence. Specifically, my days and nights have been occupied by super intense - and cocainey - brainstorming sessions in which I've been thinking long and hard about just what heinous crime I need to commit to get thrown into that jail cell with her.

(So that we can mistakenly release a Behind-the-Bars sex tape that propels me out of this plebeian, FreakiLESS Friday lifestyle.)

But now I'm back and ready to talk about things. In fact, I'm going to start talking about something in the following sentence.

This summer I'm turning 23, and I'm trying to figure out a really unique and memorable way to celebrate me. Last year, I celebrated by successfully sueing MTV for being ageist, and starred in my own, one-of-a-kind episode of "My Super Sweet 22." (Did you see it? I looked really hot, and it was a lot of fun!)

But I think it'd be kinda cliche for me to do the same thing again, and MTV's kinda become waaayy to mainstream for my own personal brand, anyway.

So instead, I think I'm gonna get a really cute picture of my face printed on a cake and invite all of my friends to come over and eat it!

I think people are best able to appreciate the unique and subtle "flavors" of friendship when they're given the opportunity to literally eat their friends.

And since movies like Silence of the Lambs have so irreversibly stigmatized the relationship-building practice of cannibalism, cake face printing is the next-best thing.

But, as it goes with most things, cake prints are also fatally flawed.

Cake is just another victim of the hegemonic discourse characterizing most everything in this country. Because last time I checked, cake is a pretty fucking white thing.

Like ... I'm pretty sure Asian people don't celebrate birthdays with the flour, eggs, and sugar we're used to. And I'm pretty sure black people like cake, but they'd still much prefer that everything were battered and deep-fried.

What I'm getting at here is that birthdays were invented for white people, by white people. And it's time for this to change.

So if I don't post another thing for another month, it's probably because I'm working desperately hard to equalize the birthday playing field, and figure out how to print multicultural faces onto individual grains of rice and/or fried chicken.

Cake is tasty, but when you examine it closely, it looks less like a relic of celebration, and more like a threat of intensifying ethnocentrism and re-instated indentured servitude.

This is our time to turn things around. This is our time to figure out how to print black peoples' faces onto drumsticks.

"EMPATHY"

Sorry I haven't posted in a while, it's just that I've been really busy empathizing with disabled reality TV stars and thinking about starting my own Little Person talent scouting agency.

I'll admit it: until recently, I thought that television was completely devoid of value. I thought that it was nothing more than sex, drugs, and rock & - excuse me, alternative country.

But upon flipping on the TV and seeing how there are Little People out there who train pit bulls, I realized that it's really me who's devoid of value.

Because shows like these actively defy the social order and invalidate many harmful stereotypes (except for the one that says that Little People are small, and that this makes it especially powerful to document their struggles with hard-to-reach items). They teach us that Little People often have the biggest hearts.

And as I'm sure you've caught on by now, MG's also got a big heart. So big, in fact, that it's almost worthy of its own reality TV show about sensitive bloggers with enlarged hearts.

Which only means that it's time to up the big-heart ante.

This is what I'm thinking: In my show, there's also a Little Person training pit bulls, but this is just a coincidence. Because in my show, all the pit bulls are walking with prosthetic legs.

And like most pit bulls, these guys didn't exactly come from the nice part of town. Oh no, no, no, no, no. Not only are their legs fake, but they're also made out of hastily-crafted, wooden chair legs.

And do you have ANY IDEA what this kind of programming could do for people? Just exactly how much this could help shape the way we think about, and treat, things that overcome other things!? It's positively confounding!

Oh, heavens above. In the words of popular singer-songwriter Leslie Feist - who's admittedly able-bodied, but also Canadian - "I feel it all."

My heart is heavy, my pit bulls are mobile, and there are at least 54 Little People lined up at my door right now, preparing themselves for the audition of their lives.

"TEAM BUILDING"

Team building activities are really important for forming good relationships with your co-workers.

I came to this realization just yesterday, when I was lucky enough to have participated in a day-long stretch of feeling up complete strangers while we stood, flamingo-style, on things that were far too small to support us.

Between the trust falls, waaaaaaaaacky hula hoop antics, and what-kind-of-animal-do-you-identify-with name games, I think I groped eight sets of breasts, rubbed genitals with just as many aroused men, and laughed at one really ethnic name that I could never pronounce and that also made me wonder, "What the fuck are you doing in this country tweaking my nipples?"

But what really made these exercises so great were all the invaluable lessons they taught us. To briefly sum everything up, communication is really important when you're trying to get things done.

If you're not communicating, it also means you're not talking, and talking is very important when it comes to communicating, which is really important when it comes to getting out of human knots and also most careers.

I woke up this morning feeling really trusting of the human race and like we're really capable of anything if we just talk it out. I really hope I get to do more team building exercises in the future, hope I get to learn more about my weaknesses and strengths and how I can apply them to organizational settings.

And maybe also feel that pleasant burning sensation in my special region again.

"FADS"

I'm really astounded by fads. They just have this flawless way of taking things that should only appeal to homeless crackheads, and making them appeal to upper-middle class brats like myself.

A friend recently told me about a new fad called "Crazy Bands." Crazy Bands are rubber band bracelets that form crrraaaaaaaaaazzzzy shapes (sandcastles, hearts, peace signs, M16's) when you remove them from your wrists.

With so many shapes and colors to chose from, they make for really powerful self-expression, communicating our personalities, hobbies, hopes and fears, as well as our parents' failed attempts at buying our compliance.

You know, these bands really harken back to the fads of my own youth. In particular, I remember when we used to stretch wristbands out of plastic bottle cap liners, gussying up arms with perpetually yellowing plastic bracelets that remained on until we lost our virginity.

This fad was really good at teaching us about sexual health because we knew never to chance it with scrappy bracelet hotties ... these 7th graders had sex with everything and everyone, and if we wanted to remain STD free at least until high school, we'd have to resist the temptation and keep our eyes focused wristward.

But we also knew not to hit the bleachers with just any old Armful. A kid with too many bracelets just wasn't getting any ... wasn't able to unhook your overalls without getting twisted up in knots, let alone diddle your skittle.

Which leaves me wondering ...

How are the kids of today learning about safe/mind blowing sex? Crazy Bands? Croc Jibbitz? Abstinence-only vampires?

I'm really afraid that the fads of today are just too tepid, too focused on personal expression and self-actualization instead of sexual stewardship and ghonneria prevention.

Are you worried about our undersexed youth? What Crazy Band shape represents you? Are homeless people better trendsetters?