“I’m exhausted. Are you exhausted? I’m totally exhausted. Is it Miller Time yet? Omigod, I’m sooooo exhausted.”

That’s what I’ve heard all day. Ordinarily it would just be vaguely annoying, but since I, too, am exhausted, I’m ready to wring this person’s neck. If I don’t fall asleep first, that is.

What sort of exhausting activities have I been up to, you ask? Well, between work and rehearsing A Place in the Sun and writing for the [totally nsfw] Fleshbot masters, not much I guess. I have, however, been learning a lot, and learning a lot takes a lot out of me. Here are some things I’ve learned:

• I get especially lazy when I consume less than 1,000 calories a day– which, for some reason, has been my eating pattern of late. Funny: you’d almost think calories were some kind of magical energy source.
• Naomi Campbell and I are totally alike. She wins some and loses some–and so do I! Admittedly, there’s shade of difference between her garnering a YSL campaign and me unlocking an extra hula hoop game on Wii Fit, but still.
• Flotilla DeBarge is my new hero–again. I can’t remember the whole story behind her nailing that B&T chick in the head with a pump, but Michael Soldier can. Ask him sometime.

See? Three measly things, and I’m already pooped. I should up my calorie intake. Where’s that chocolate mojito…?

Things to love about the short, sweet video “Fucking Hell” from Jake and Dinos Chapman:

• It’s pretty.
• It’s obsessively detailed.
• Even though the “fucking” quotient is a little low for my tastes, there’s plenty of hellishness afoot.
• It demonstrates once again exactly why Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” is one of the best pieces of music ever–especially in films depicting landscapes of carnage.

[Via Juxtapoz]

This just in from Sallie Ann Glassman:

On Monday, June 23rd at 7pm, Sallie Ann Glassman and La Source Ancienne Ounfo will celebrate St. John’s Eve with their annual ceremony on the footbridge over Bayou St. John (near Cabrini High School).

Vodou Ceremony: Wear all white and bring a white scarf or rag for your head. (It will get dirty.)

Marie Laveau: Bring an offering for Marie Laveau. She likes flowers, blue and white candles, Creole foods, hair ribbons and hair dressing supplies,(she was a hairdresser), Vodou-esque items (Voodoo dolls, potions, gris-gris bags, etc.), or images of Marie Laveau.

FYI, this is not the same as her annual Hurricane Ceremony–nor, obviously, are the stakes as high. But it’s always a good time.

I IS A ARTIST! SEE?

<a href="http://wordle.net/gallery/Why_I_Live_at_the_P_O_&quot;
title=”Why I Live at the P.O.” target=”_blank”><img
src=”http://wordle.net/thumb/Why_I_Live_at_the_P_O_&#8221;
style=”padding:4px;border:1px solid #ddd”
>
“Why I Live at the P.O.”
by Eudora Welty (1941)

<a href="http://wordle.net/gallery/Chapter_1_of_The_Autobiography_of_Alice_B__Toklas&quot;
title=”Chapter 1 of The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas” target=”_blank”><img src="http://wordle.net/thumb/Chapter_1_of_The_Autobiography_of_Alice_B__Toklas&quot;
style=”padding:4px;border:1px solid #ddd”
>
The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, chapter 1
by Gertrude Stein (1933)

<a href="http://wordle.net/gallery/State_of_the_Union_address%2C_Jan_2008&quot;
title=”State of the Union address, Jan 2008″><img
src=”http://wordle.net/thumb/State_of_the_Union_address%2C_Jan_2008&#8243;
style=”padding:4px;border:1px solid #ddd”
>
State of the Union Address (with applause marks)
by George W. Bush (2008)

Big-ups to the Hodg-man for spreading the word about Wordle.

Timewaster Alert: the totally free Spore Creature Creator is live, y’all!

In case you haven’t heard, Spore is a new game for PC, Mac, and the three major consoles. It’s kinda like The Sims, if The Sims were set in a pool of primordial ooze, and you had to fight your way to the top of the food chain instead of just making your character take regular showers. As you’ve probably guessed, the Creature Creator allows you to create your own little genetic hatchling, modded out to your hearts content. If/when you purchase Spore , you can drop him/her/it right in and commence battling to be the fittest. Think of it as a cutesy, cuddly way to satisfy your inner atheist.

I’m not committed to the full game yet, but, you know, anything to keep me indoors for the next few months is a definite plus.

Dear Asshole:

Is that your dog–the one tied up on the sidewalk? At noon? On the 16th of June? In New Orleans?

Just checking.

Next time you step inside the Mardi Gras Zone to buy a couple of microwave burritos with a fistful of pennies you found in the gutter, tie up Fido in a shady spot. Or better yet, leave him at home. Assuming you have a home, that is.

Dear Everyone Else:

Sorry, but that is so my pet peeve. (No pun intended).

Question: Why is it so hot in August when the longest day of the year is way back in June?

THINGS THAT DID NOT SUCK THIS WEEK

The super-secret ninja trick I learned to do with Reader, thanks to an anonymous coder/gaming addict at Google. [FYI, although it’s kinda hot, you’ll wanna undo it. Just type in the code again for a full reverse.]

My excursions in Zon, an MMO designed to teach Mandarin Chinese. I haven’t learned a damn thing, but the implications are totally sweet.

Tchoupitoulas’ photo uploads at Flickr.com–which will probably eventually viewable in his New Orleans set. The weather is great, the city is awesome, wish you were here.

A new term for an old phenom: the “Aunt Minnie” [courtesy of Sunday]. Who knew it had a name?

“Thriving Office”–not because I’ve actually bought the CD, but because the concept and title are so optimistic. The creators could’ve called it “Busy Office” or “Harried Office” or “Deadline’s Afoot!”, but no, they’ve placed you in a work environment that’s doing just great, thank you very much–thriving, even. The difference is subtle, but of course, those of you who know me know how much I looooove subtlety.

Ladies and gentlemen of the press, invited guests, good morning and welcome to New Orleans. My name is Ray Nagin, and I am your king.

No, just kidding, just kidding. Totally kidding. But seriously–could you imagine if I’d said that for real and all? Omigod, that’d be so freaky! One of y’all would Photoshopped a tiara on this bald, sexy head before I was done talking, and that’d be all she wrote. Hell, that’d make for some news. Maybe get me on the cover of the Picayune. They don’t talk about me much over there anymore.

But seriously, folks. I’m the mayor of New Orleans, and I’d like to invite each and every one of you to bow down and lick my balls.

Sorry, sorry–just kidding again. Did I fool you twice? I honestly think I saw some of you start to lean over! Andy Cooper, I’m looking at you. Troy Carter? You, too. Don’t gimme that look, bro. I know you at least thought about it. I’m not stupid.

But enough of all that. I invited you here today to talk about the recovery and rebuilding that’s going on in New Orleans. Despite facing a lot of hurdles at the state and federal level, I think we’re doing a fantastic job, and I’d like to take personal credit for each and every good thing that’s happening around the city.

Now, I know there are some people out there who think I don’t do anything, They think I just show up to check the mail and talk about how vagina-friendly I am. But you know, from the minute I finish my workout at 10:00am ’till I leave for Commander’s Palace at 11:30am, I am in my office working. Talking to people. Smoking things. Looking at stuff. You know: mayor stuff. I work a lot.

I also know that some people are saying that neighborhood groups should get the credit for New Orleans’ recovery. But if that’s true, they ought to take the blame, too. Why can’t they fix our roads? Why can’t they fix our schools, huh? Why can’t they do something about the spiraling crime rate? Man, I’m scared to walk from my Town Car to the tennis court for fear of being touched by some homeless guy. I mean, I don’t swing that way….

Whoa. Is the room spinning for any of y’all? I better sit down…. That’s better. Now, where was I?

Oh yeah: But the neighborhood groups won’t take responsibility for all that junk, so I don’t think they should get any credit, either. So I say we abolish neighborhood groups and give all the credit back to me. You know, credit for all that stuff I’m doing. And the blame should lay squarely where it belongs: with Bobby Jindal and ol’ whatshisname. My chief of police? That guy. He did it. Not me.

Now before I let y’all go, let me just remind you:

I am important!

I am a valuable member of this community!

I’m good enough, I’m strong enough, and gosh darnit, people like me!

I blew Richard Speck!

No just kidding again. That was some shit in some crazy movie I saw one night when my wife was out of town and my boy Troy and I got high. On life–high on life, man. Because I would never smoke crack. With Troy. Again.

I’m not the World’s Biggest Opera Fan, but I’d hit that.