--Sorry for the lack of postage, but I've been surprisingly busy (Starcraft won't play itself) and, to be honest, from a sports and pop culture oddities standpoint, things have been pretty slow.
--One in a long line of totally normal, sane things you see from the Westboro Baptist cult. The little interview link from that page with Phelps' daughter just keeping it real about Heath Ledger is worth a watch, too. (h/t AV Club).
--I'm honestly surprised that no one did this sooner, but these kids executed it very well. (h/t Videogum)
--Kelly Bensimon (of Real Housewives fame and a more general sort of crazy people fame) made an anti-bullying PSA, and it makes me want to take her lunch money and give her a swirly.
--I expected so much more from the mind behind "Ahab the Arab." A rare miss, Ray Stevens.
--Sports-wise, there's not a lot to talk about. Even though I don't know much about soccer, I'm eagerly awaiting the US national team to continue its streak of disappointing World Cup showings. On the NBA tip, Celtics-Lakers is a good, if not ideal, Finals matchup; I would've loved for Steve Nash to get a chance at the big one before the decline really sets in, but the Lakers were really just the better team in that series. And yeah, watching this was really tough.
--Speaking of tearjerking/audible "awww" moments in sports, Chad Johnson remains the most lovable narcissist in the NFL, and this Kenechi Udeze story is just awesome.
--The Clash, Frightened Rabbit, and the Magnetic Fields have been in heavy rotation for me recently. Hopefully I can cook up an album review (takes longer than you might think, yo) before I go on my trip to Chicago on Friday.
--In other great music news, how about this band Buckcherry? I somehow managed to avoid hearing that song for my entire life, and now I feel I'm an irrevocably changed, damaged man. I don't throw Canadian money at the homeless anymore, laughing and laughing as I drive away in my Porsche; now I gently clasp their hands around hundred-dollar bills and cry a single, manly tear for them. Thanks to Buckcherry, I now know what it's like to live on the margins of society, in the mouth of madness, amongst the damned. Also, how's that sweet band name treating you, Buckcherry? Jesus.
--In conclusion, Lost ended.
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