"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?

"SEPARATION"

After 40 years of aggressive, open-mouth kissing, Al and Tipper Gore have decided to separate. Sources report that there were no extramarital affairs involved, and that the couple had simply "grown apart" after 40 years of Al growing puffier and becoming increasingly unable to distinguish the human form from trees.

This confuses me; politicians are supposed to have extramarital affairs! Blowing their loads into strange women is the only thing they can do to keep the power from getting to their heads!

Clinton, Kennedy, Giuliani, Edwards, Spitzer ... all of these men have gone down in history as principal architects of the peace process - men who silenced their wee-wees instead of pushing buttons and randomly blowing up countries, or having sex with their own wives, who were far too ugly to fuck.

You know, I recently read that Barack Obama has been making late-night phone calls to Oprah Winfrey. This makes sense to me because they are both black people.

But Al Gore, what's up with him? Has standing up for the environment made him too much of an emotional softie to cheat on his wife with a hotter babe? Is Al Gore a "faggot?" Would you feel more at home in this country if the Opramah Affair were confirmed?

I would.