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I get the best interoffice mail.

In my time here I’ve received the following items via interoffice mail:

• a baseball
• a hand-drawn greeting card from Louisiana and Mardi Gras beads
• a squishy whale wrapped in gold tinsel
• a stress pig
• a cute kittens calendar
• three broken GI Joes
• parts of various Mr. Potatohead dolls
• two issues of Sports Illustrated from the late ‘90s
• a sealed envelope labeled “private” with nothing in it
• a bevy of lids from plastic Coke bottles
• sixteen highlighters (all of them dried up and dead)
• a ransom note from a garden gnome
• half a case of PBR

I’m sure there are plenty more awesome things that I’ve received, but those are the ones that immediately pop into my mind.

This week I received yet another awesome surprise that came from the one and only DGobs!

When I opened the envelope, this is what I found first:

This is a pretty inviting message right off the bat.

It could have been a total sting operation or someone trying to serve me some court papers, but it would have worked.

In fact, something like this is probably the best way to sucker me into any sort of otherwise undesirable situation.

Seriously, if you put a note on cage full of angry, underfed, coked-out otters that says “stick your hand in here to see Katy Perry in a bikini!” I’d probably go ahead and jam my arm right into that cage, all the way up to the elbow.

Anyway…I unfolded the paper and what did I behold:

That’s right folks, exactly what was promised.

No court papers. No swarm of vicious killer bees. Heck, no paper cuts. Just a pretty lady frolicking in the waters of Hawaii on Christmas day whilst her marriage falls to shambles around her.

That’s good stuff right there.

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My Faithful Readers, the battle for internet supremacy is over.

Dubstep Cat has officially pulled the sword from the stone as it were and is now your new god. Deal with it.

Who is Dubstep Cat you ask?

Well, by golly…let me show you:

There is very little I can add to the discussion here to try and make this video more awesome than it already is.

Luckily, the fine folks over at Jezebel hit on this earlier this afternoon and pretty much summed it up perfectly:

Ok, folks. It’s been a good run. Pack it on up. There’s no use trying to accomplish anything else as a human species. Dubstep Cat is the apex of billions of years of evolution and innovation and thousands of years of human creativity, and after this, we should all go home and congratulate ourselves.

Personally, I don’t know what the hell dubstep is or why on earth anyone would listen to it—seriously, it feels like my ears are being raped by a robot constructed entirely of sadness and the old dial-up internet noise—but I do know that watching this cat made me laugh so hard that I may or may not have peed myself in my office this afternoon.

And that’s enough for me to go ahead and tip my hat to this fantastic feline.

Dubstep Cat – 1
The Rest of the Internet – 0

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Taco Bell is at it again.

The Mexican(ish) fast food giant is getting in on the breakfast game and already they’re taunting me with new additions to the (sketchy-at-best) menu that they know I can’t get my grubby, cholesterol lovin’ mitts on.

Just last month I wrote about my long overdue discovery of the Doritos Locos Tacos and the unfortunate fact that it is pretty much impossible to find anywhere but a few select markets.

As a result, I’ve yet to encounter one of those neon orange suckers to see if it’s actually worth the hype, but Taco Bell has already pushed it to the backburner of my “crappy fast food must-have” list with this new breakfast creation…the Johnsonville sausage and egg wrap.

I know, I know…it looks absolutely disgusting and it probably tastes worse than it looks, assuming that’s possible.

To be perfectly honest, I’m actually quite frightened of the damn thing.

Yet…I must have it.

Taco Bell just rolled out their new breakfast menu today and it is only in limited locations for the time being, so I guess I can’t get too pissy about this sucker being unavailable for my immediate consumption; especially when you consider that its elusiveness figures to garner me an extra working artery for the foreseeable future.

This bad boy is the flagship item on the new breakfast menu—that also hosts the usual suspects like breakfast burritos and hashbrowns—and I will do my damndest to sample one.

Granted, if it really does taste as bad, or worse, than it looks this whole Taco Bell breakfast experiment will probably be dead and gone by this weekend.

…and really, that would probably be best for everyone.

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When I was a kid, I loved Wheel of Fortune.

It was such a simple game—unlike Jeopardy—that it often caught my attention whilst channel surfing after school.

I could spell.

I could scream out words.

I could play Wheel of Fortune like a champ.

Jeopardy required me to actually know things and I wasn’t down with that until, like, well after my college graduation.

Wheel, however, won me over for the longest time.

There was a brief period—something like three weeks or so—where I thought Vanna White was the prettiest lady on the planet. She was always wearing a new dress and smiling so pleasantly. She always knew which letters were hiding behind the blocks. It was hard not to like the gal.

Granted, I also thought she was mute, because Pat Sajak did all the talking. Seriously, he was one chatty mofo.

Today he let out an interesting detail that helps explain why.

Apparently it had a lot to do with how he and Vanna spent their lengthy, two-and-a-half hour lunch breaks:

“At NBC in Burbank we had a place called Los Arcos across the street — which is Spanish, as you know, for ‘The Arcos’ — and they served great margaritas.”

“Vanna and I would go across and have two or three or six and then come and do the last shows and have trouble recognizing the alphabet.”

There you have it, folks. Good ole Pat Sajak was three sheets to the wind whilst filming a number of episodes. This more than explains why he was such a Chatty Cathy.

We should have known!

I don’t really know how you could get away with something like that, but that was back in the ‘80s and I’m pretty certain the world was a lawless society wherein there were no consequences for any action, no matter how ludicrous.

That’s gotta be why Sajak went on to say that no one ever mentioned the whole “drunk on the job for a nationally-televised program” thing to either White or himself.

It’s that or the producers realized that no one—save for young children and old people—were ever actually watching the show and it probably wasn’t a big deal if the hosts were toasted.

Now if only this explained why Vanna never talked. I can’t think of anyone I know who has ever gone mute after multiple margaritas.

That gal is an enigma.

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We live in a very weird time.

I say this today because I just got wind of a story that combines the following: toilet paper, Moby Dick, and e-commerce.

Now, I thought there was probably a good chance that I’d live my entire life and never encounter a situation where all of those things came together.

I was wrong.

There is a listing on eBay right now for six rolls of toilet paper that have the entirety of Herman Melville’s classic Moby Dick typed out on ‘em.

Here is the dude’s official product description from the listing:

My friend and I once joked that toilet paper should have instructions printed on them for certain people.

One day, the conversation grew from there and turned into a wager that I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) be able to type out a novel on toilet paper.

Yes, we did have some time on our hands but, as you can see from the photos, I won the bet.

There are four full rolls, one roll (epilogue) is about 1/5 of a roll and one half-roll

All of the rolls of TP came out of a brand new — clean — package of 2-ply Cottonelle.

They’ve been handled very gingerly and infrequently.

As you’ll see in the following photos, one or two rolls have a tear at the beginning.

This is where I was trying to pull the paper through the typewriter.

I’ve kept this mod oddity in a box in a cool, dry place for the last 10 years and have only broken it out to prove to doubters that I actually did it.

Considering what it’s been through, it’s in amazing condition.

Ten years.

Ten freakin’ years this dude has had this thing just lingering in a box?

Is there any chance this guy isn’t a complete raving psychopath?

We’re talking about a dude who took a bet that he could type an 800+ page novel on toilet paper and he won that bet.

This nutter butter typed every word of the—undoubtedly copyright infringing—epic about Ishmael, Ahab and the Pequod on freakin’ two-ply doo-doo paper for no reason other than to win a bet!

This is not the behavior of a sane person.

Then he kept it hidden away all this time until he suddenly wants a cool grand for some decade-old toilet paper with ink all over it? I can’t imagine that’s even remotely hygienic!

It’s old and inky.

Is there a worse combination?!

Dude is straight-up crazy, but do you know what’s even crazier? Someone is probably going to give him that thousand bucks he wants.

It’ll probably be some rich English professor or a Melville enthusiast or Charlie Sheen or something, but I tell you who it won’t be. It sure as hell won’t be me.

You see, I’ve got a pretty firm policy against spending big bucks on anything I’m going to smear poop on in the near future.

It just makes good sense, right?!

If you don’t have a similar policy and you’re just ALL ABOUT bitter revenge stories involving aquatic life and amputees, you should zip over to eBay while you still can because time is running out on this (hopefully) once-in-a-lifetime deal.

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Holy hell.

Look at that thing—the claw, not the dude—and try to tell me that’s not the most redonkulous thing you’ve ever seen.

Seriously, look at it. Look at it hard and really let it marinate.

How messed up—and yet simultaneously awesome—is that thing?!

Awesome enough that you should certainly buy me the (take a deep breath, this is a long one) “Zombie Gear Demon Bones Tri-Bladed Fantasy Hand Claw” today!

I’m not big into the X-Men or anything, so I could give a rat’s ass about this being some kind of blatant rip-off of Wolverine or whatever.

I’m more intrigued by the fact that this thing is available without any sort of requirements (ie: age, mental health, crime fighting alter ego, etc.) listed on the website. Also, let’s focus on the fact that this is available on freakin’ Amazon.com…and for less than $30.

What the heck is going on here?!

This whole thing feels like some sort of elaborate sting operation, right?!

This has to be the same way the feds trick burnouts into buying old coffee cans full of Vicodin and Xanax. It’s just too good to be true, right?! There’s seriously no way this is on the up-and-up.

I mean, if the dude selling this thing (and it’s gotta be the guy in the picture, right?) doesn’t run some sort of psych evaluation or criminal record check or half-assed Google search before shipping this sucker out, he’s basically an accessory to the inevitable string of murders that transpire as a result of this purchase, right?!

Although, I suppose if you want it for the same reason I do, maybe you’re not some sort of total whacko who is all but guaranteed to go on a statewide killing spree.

You see, I’m interested in this sucker because they seem to be pimping it as some sort of zombie defense tool. Personally, I think this thing looks pretty useless as a zombie killing device, because you’ve gotta be all-up-in the zombie’s grill to use it.

It does, however, have an enticing list of product features:

Now, I don’t know what the hell 440C Stainless Steel is, but a cursory glance at Google—and a quick glossing over of the first result—indicates that it is a pretty bad-ass metal that can hold up to the most extreme of zombie stabbing tasks.

I don’t know if the idea of a Velcro wristband excites me the way the seller was hoping it would, but I suppose it’s better than if it had one of those annoying charm bracelet clasps. Those things are damn near impossible to get hooked, let alone when you’ve got a set of 8.75” razor sharp claws attached to one hand.

Don’t even get me started on the weird, skull-thingity-thing design going on here.

Long story short, I’m intrigued.

I don’t know if it’ll do me any good against zombies and I can’t see a practical purpose beyond chopping veggies and stabbing homeless people for kicks and giggles, but I think I want this and I want it now.

So act fast, before my child-like attention span zeroes in on something else.

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Unless you’ve been hiding from the internet and television for the last couple of days, you’ve undoubtedly heard that Heidi Klum and Seal are getting a divorce.

It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to assume that Ms. Klum—nicknamed “The Body” for very good reason—will have no shortage of potential suitors lining up to play the role of “rebound guy.”

The thing is, I can’t help but think that might be a very, very bad idea.

The reasons for this are two-fold.

First, there’s the fact that the major reason for their divorce is reportedly Seal’s temper:

Heidi Klum is divorcing Seal largely because she has had it with his volcanic temper … TMZ has learned.

Sources directly connected with the couple tell us … Heidi’s decision to divorce Seal has nothing to do with a third person. There is NO issue of infidelity.

But Seal’s inability to control his anger has become too much for Heidi to take, in no small part because it’s affecting their children.

Obviously all of Klum’s potential paramours are likely to blow this off thinking that he won’t be around to get his crazy on, they’re gonna be divorced and living apart.

No worries, right?!

Well, that’s where the second of my reasons for passing on that “get back on the horse” date with Heidi Klum comes into play.

You see, Seal—the guy with the terrible temper—is still wearing his wedding ring and saying things like this:

“It’s just pretty much a token of how I feel about this woman.”

“We have eight years, eight wonderful years together. Just because we have decided to separate doesn’t necessarily mean you take off your ring and you’re no longer connected to that person. We will be connected in many ways ’til the rest of our lives.”

“But right now it feels really comfortable on my hand so I have no intentions of taking it off anytime soon.”

Obviously he was going for “sweet” or “romantic” or something there, but to me that came off as drastically more creepy and unnerving than anything else.

Maybe I’m reading too much into this, but I’m pretty certain Seal is going to kill anyone and everyone who even makes wayward eye contact with Heidi Klum anytime in the near future, let alone the first poor sumbitch who actually tries to take her out to dinner and a movie.

Seriously, the dude is going to be dumping bodies into the ocean with reckless abandon for weeks on end.

Dang near every report I’ve read has said that Klum is the one who initiated the divorce. I guess that’s why it’s not overly surprising that he seems like he’s not quite ready to move on yet.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you shouldn’t give Heidi a call and a “what’s up girl, how you doin’?”

I just think it might be wise to let someone else be the first dude to give it a whirl, you know, just in case.

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Commercials suck.

They suck because they break up your favorite show. They suck because they’re insanely repetitive and boring. They suck because you couldn’t give a rat’s ass about whatever product they’re pitching. They suck because they contain some of the worst plots and scripts this side of daytime soap operas.

I mean seriously, who among us hasn’t spent an entire commercial break asking themselves “people actually get paid to make this garbage?”

Commercials annoy the crap outta me and, admittedly, I think it’s because I’ve often thought that I might be pretty good at advertising. Heck, there have been times where I’ve cooked up ideas subconsciously that I thought might make fine commercials.

What I haven’t done, however, is come up with something as completely genius as the latest advertisement from CCAA, a Brazilian-based language school that is pimping the importance of learning English.

CCAA’s latest commercial features two dudes who have survived a plane accident, which appears to be the result of a previous commercial starring Bruce f’n Willis.

The two dudes wash up on the shore of mystical Megan Fox Island, an island inhabited by a veritable plethora of scantily clad Megan Fox clones.

To see how it all shakes out, peep the video:

I know, right?!

That’s how commercials are done!

Don’t get me wrong, it has nothing to do with the abundance of Megan Foxes, I’ve made my personal opinion of Megan Fox pretty clear in the past. Rather, it’s the simplistic idea behind the commercial.

If you know another language, you get to live in paradise with one of the hottest chicas on the planet and a bajillion of her clones.

If you don’t know another language, you get trapped on a rocky, less-than-inviting island with Mike f’n Tyson, but not just one Mike Tyson—which would be bad enough—but a whole freakin’ army of Tysons and they all seem like they’re just ready to fight.

If this commercial had come out back when I was in high school and it had Jennifer Aniston or Jenny McCarthy or Britney Spears or any of the hotties of my youth in Megan Fox’s place, I’d have been signing up for foreign language classes so fast it’d make your freakin’ head spin, especially if they’d replaced Mike Tyson with Carrot Top.

Honestly, I really wish someone had done something like this related to learning more about computers or math or something that would serve a dude well to make money as an adult.

If an army of 10,000 Christina Aguileras (note: we’re talking “Genie in a Bottle” era Christina here) had told me to learn all about computer programming, I sure as hell would have listened. I’d probably be making gobs of money and living on a unicorn farm with buildings made of gold.

Alas, there was no hottie army and here I am, a lowly library worker dude who blogs about the awesomeness of commercials from other continents.

It’s unfortunate that such a simple and funny commercial is only going to be hitting the airwaves in Brazil.

Meanwhile, we’ll be getting a lot more of these:

Um…yeah, those were definitely WAY better than the Brazilian commercial. American ingenuity and creative all the way!

USA! USA! US…ah to hell with it. You win this round, Brazil!

But watch your asses, because if Will Ferrell and Old Milwaukee go national with their ad campaign, we’ll be coming for you.

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Movies kinda suck right now.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that The Artist or The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo aren’t any good. There are plenty of movies in theatres right now that I’m sure are abundantly entertaining, but they’re just not movies I’m real interested in seeing.

I’ll admit that I’m kind of a pain in the ass when it comes to hitting all the right buttons with movies, which is probably why I only go to half-a-dozen (at most) movies a year anymore.

I like action movies (see: Die Hard and The Dark Knight), but I have zero desire to see about 97% of the action movies and/or comic book movies that come out.

Seriously, one of my best friends from back home is hooked on all those comic book movies and he was absolutely shocked to learn that I hadn’t rushed out to see the big-screen adaptations of Iron Man, Captain America or Thor.

I’m not real big into the artsty-fartsy type of movies. I’ll occasionally go out and hit up a Black Swan or a Young Adult or something of that ilk, but usually it’s about one or so of those a year that I can sit through without getting super fidgety.

I like comedies, but I also find that most of the “comedy” put out by Hollywood isn’t real funny anymore. It seems to be Seth Rogen and Jonah Hill trying to out-crass one another and that’s not really my thing.

That having been said, it looks like I’ve got another bleak month or so ahead of me before anything I’m actually interested in hits the theatres.

With that in mind, here’s a quick rundown of seven movies I’m pretty stoked for in the next six months or so.

Let me hear it in the comments if you think any of these look interesting or if you think I’ve just got horrendous taste in movies.

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Whether you live in the Pacific Northwest, the East Coast, or the Midwest you’ve undoubtedly been wondering where the heck winter was lurking for the last couple of months.

In the past week or so it has finally shown up all across the country bringing cold winds, freezing temperatures, and a big ole bunch of snow.

Undoubtedly, this sudden change from unseasonably warm and dry to extremely cold and snowy is going to get some people down in the dumps.

Luckily, I’ve got the just the cure y’all need for your winter blues.

I was in a meeting the other day when boss, buddy, and blogger Cassfox dropped a knowledge bomb on everyone in the meeting…there is a Hall and Oates hotline.

That’s right folks, you can dial up “Callin’ Oates: the Emergency Hall and Oates Hotline” any time—night or day—for a quick shot of auditory awesomeness.

All you’ve got to do is dial 719-26-OATES (719-266-2837) and you’ll be given the option of listening to one of four classic Hall and Oates songs.

The options are as follows:

Press 1 to hear “One on One“
Press 2 to hear “Rich Girl“
Press 3 to hear “Maneater“
Press 4 to hear “Private Eyes“

Unfortunately, “You Make My Dreams,” “I Can’t Go for That (No Can Do),” and “Kiss on My List” are not currently options on the hotline, but let’s not even waste our time pretending y’all don’t have ‘em on your iPod already.

So go forth and dial—it is free after all—and get your Hall and Oates fix today to help blast away those winter blues.

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My Faithful Readers, today is National Hugging Day.

That’s right, there is a holiday—and it’s legit—that is dedicated entirely to hugging.

If you’ve never heard of it before, don’t feel bad, neither had I until about ten minutes ago.

What I’ve gleaned from the official website and Wikipedia is about what you’d expect, today is a good ole day to go out and get your huggin’ on.

Here’s a quick rundown from the Huffington Post:

Founded in 1986 by Kevin Zaborney (the website for the holiday says he is sometimes called the Ambassador of Hugs!) National Hug Day falls in between Christmas and Valentine’s Day, every year. In other words, a bright spot in a dismal stretch, the antidote to what’s come to be known as Blue Monday.

If you know me in the real world (read: outside of the interwebs) you know that I’m a big fan of hugs.

Big hugs. Small hugs. Bear hugs. Otter hugs. Group hugs. Long hugs. Short hugs. One-armed hugs. Bro hugs. Pat on the back hugs. Drunken hugs. Sad hugs. Happy hugs. Birthday hugs. Random Tuesday hugs. Hello hugs. Goodbye hugs. I dig ‘em all.

I’m a total hugaholic.

Luckily, unlike my addiction to cheeseburgers, my insatiable desire for hugs is actually good for me as numerous studies have shown all-kinds of crazy benefits from hugging:

…studies show that folks who are regularly hugged by their close friends and family have reduced heart rates, lower blood pressure, increased nerve activity and more upbeat moods. A survey of successful marriages even showed that hugging and touching (not sexual intercourse), were the key factors in keeping the relationship long-lasting.

If you keep reading all of the benefits they mention that hugs can bust out more positive juju than frequenting church. Another study said that peeps who are getting their hugs on the regular are two times as likely to refer to their mental health as first rate.

So there you have it, folks…hugs are totally bad-ass and can pretty much help you live forever (or something…I don’t really get science) all the while you get to hug someone and feel awesome.

Now get out there and hug someone today!

(Author’s Note: You should maybe ask the person first, you know, just in case…)

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Dear Everyone Watching Porn in the Library-

I know what you’re doing.

I may not directly see you watching porn, but it’s pretty obvious that’s what you’re up to.

When you walk in and you immediately choose the computer in the corner, closest to the wall where you know I can’t see the screen…I know you’re watching porn.

When you constantly turn the monitor so it’s facing the wall and only you and someone standing directly behind you can see the monitor…I know you’re watching porn.

When you get shifty and panicky every single time someone walks past you and you immediately click to another window…I know you’re watching porn.

When the window that’s always up when I walk by is the homepage for the library and you’re blatantly not searching for anything, but rather just staring blankly while you wait for me to go back to the circulation desk…I know you’re watching porn.

When you constantly look in my direction to make sure I’m not paying attention to you (which I am, constantly—I’m like a f’n hawk with night vision)…I know you’re watching porn.

When you’re not typing for extended periods of time, because you’re busy staring at the screen with a goofy “I see boobies…hooray!” grin on your face…I know you’re watching porn.

…but most of all, when you DON’T PLUG IN THE HEADPHONES ALL THE WAY like a complete amateur at the “Watching Porn in a Library-lympics” and I can hear the “oohs” and the “aahs” and the things slightly more graphic than “ooh” or “aah”…I know you’re watching porn.

This is when you get kicked out of the library.

There are no second chances in this game, Bucko.

Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Go directly to another library and leave me the hell alone.

Signed,

Everyone Who Has Ever Worked in a Library, Ever

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Oh yeah, you read that right, folks.

Jennifer Aniston has been dishing out some relationship advice to none other than Taylor Swift.

I don’t know why, but I can’t quit thinking that this could be the most amazing development in the history of amazing developments.

I mean seriously, is there anything better than a world where all of my celebrity crushes decide they want to be friends and hang out? You know, in lieu of fighting one another to the death over the rights to my heart.

Maybe they want to chit-chat about lanky, sketchily-bearded—yet oddly-charming—Midwestern suitors. Maybe they want to discuss the merits of moving to Boston and living in a tiny apartment with said Midwestern suitor and his girlfriend. Maybe they want to buy a big screen television and a cat and a Playstation 3 and baseball tickets and cheeseburgers once they’ve moved into the aforementioned tiny apartment.

I mean, who am I to speculate? It all just seems like the type of scenario that would take place when these lovely ladies get together.

Where is this coming from, you ask, My Faithful Readers?

Well, according to the (gossip) folks at the New York Daily News, these two met up at the People’s Choice Awards a week or so ago and Aniston decided to dispense some advice upon my favorite flaxen-haired country crooner.

Is Taylor Swift the Jennifer Aniston of her generation? An insider at Wednesday’s People’s Choice Awards tells us the notoriously unlucky-in-love Aniston, 41, approached Swift, 21, inside the Nokia Theatre to tell her to “hang in there” in the face of relentless press about her love life. We hear the two had not previously met, but Aniston “wanted Taylor to know everything will be okay.”

Aniston’s supposedly star-crossed romantic history has long been in the limelight, as Swift’s now is after her reported split with Jake Gyllenhaal.

According to our source, Jen told Taylor to “go out there and have fun.” We hope they also compared notes about shared ex John Mayer.

First and foremost: To Hell with John Mayer.

Okay, now that that’s out of the way, I think we all know where is headed, right?

I mean, it’s pretty much clear as day.

Taylor Swift is totally coming for me. She’s ready to win her ongoing battle with Zooey Deschanel and go fully nuclear. She’s on her way to Boston right now. I can practically feel it.

I mean, Jennifer Aniston did everything short of handing Taylor a pre-paid plane ticket to Boston and some cab money.

I mean, I think we all know that nothing says “go out there and have fun” quite like hanging out with the aforementioned Midwestern dude.

…right?!

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I’ve mentioned a time or two that my major in college was journalism.

Clearly, I’m not making the most of that degree.

I don’t work for any major newspapers, magazines or televisions networks. I work in a library and I’m an on-again, off-again blogger.

I don’t write any real news myself. No, no…I blog about the minutiae of my library job, zombies and my celebrity crushes. On occasion, I take a moment and to snark about the real news that people who are using their degrees have written.

So clearly, I don’t really have much room to talk when it comes to mocking people in the journalism industry.

That having been said, I still feel like I’ve still got to go ahead and mock a “legitimate news source” here and ask why the fine folks at Fox News thought it was necessary to run a report that basically says “people say mean things on the interwebs that they wouldn’t say face-to-face.”

Duh.

Simply, duh.

Here’s some quick excerpts from today’s hard hitting expose over at MyFoxBoston.com:

It takes about two seconds to find words of hate. Read the comments on any story or any blog and you will find them too. You may have even wrote them. Here’s a question for you, would you ever say those things to someone’s face?

It can be like the wild west in the comment section. One comment gets another person going and they start attacking each other.

It makes you wonder, what did people do before the internet? Where did people put all that negativity? Yes, the other side is that it gives us a voice but is it for better or worse?

They even interviewed a doctor and a defense attorney for this non-story story. I can only assume they were both bored and looking to kill some time or maybe just happened to be eating lunch at the same Wendy’s as the reporter?

Everyone who has ever stumbled into the comments section of any story on the internet knows that it’s nothing but a breeding ground for contempt, rage, and general douche-baggery.

Pictured: Fox News

You don’t need to waste your time writing “news” stories about this stuff. It’s common knowledge.

What’s next for Fox News?

Maybe a harrowing tale of bad service from major retailers who employee nothing but snotty, entitled teenagers?

Maybe they’ll give us a first-hand account of how someone suffered through a slow ride on the subway and—by golly—it seems the subway is slow a lot.

Maybe it’s time for some investigation into the rumors that people waste time at work on the internet.

I know they’ve got to fill pixels just like everyone else in the news industry, but come on now, “people are mean on the internet” or “teenagers can be rude” or “the subway is slow” or “people like to dick around on FarmVille at work” stories aren’t really “news” and probably don’t belong on a news website.

I know all about fluff pieces and filler, but why waste your time? Especially when it figures to result in the old “pouring gasoline on the fire” type of response from the people who comment right there on your own damn news site.

Hell, it’s enough to get nobody bloggers to write snarky posts dedicated solely to their non-story story.

Don’t waste your time trying to turn every single, innocuous thought you have into a news story.

That’s what bloggers are here for…

Get your shit together Fox News…or give a brother a writing job.

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I’m not so sure it ranks up there with winning a Grammy, but Katy Perry has officially taken home another top honor.

A recent poll of 25,000 subscribers at ashleymadison.com—an extra-martial “dating” site—revealed that Perry was the number one vote-getter in this year’s annual “Celebrity Hall Pass Survey.”

The survey is, well, exactly what it sounds like, subscribers vote on which celebrity they’d chose to cheat with if given a “hall pass” by their significant other.

Here’s the entirety of the top ten—which includes the hottest woman of all time, Jennifer Aniston—and a rundown of what the annual survey is all about from the folks over at Radar:

According to Ashleymadison.com’s Founder Noel Biderman: “Our annual Celebrity Hall Pass survey reflects how the revolving door of celebrity infidelity has trickled down to reach every day Americans. Celebrity cheating in the news has encouraged these conversations to take place and these days partners actually do give their spouse permission to have a Celebrity Hall Pass.”

Celebrity Hall Pass Survey Results 2012:

1: Katy Perry
2: Rihanna
3: Mila Kunis
4: Salma Hayek
5: Jennifer Aniston
6: Scarlett Johansson
7: Sofia Vergara
8: Blake Lively
9: Kim Kardashian
10: Sarah Palin

Obviously it’s hard to take any list seriously that contains Sarah Palin or anyone named Kardashian, but it is good to see Katy and Jennifer getting the, um, respect (adulation? dirty thoughts? creepers?) that they both certainly warrant.

As Biderman said, many spouses do give permission to have a “Celebrity Hall Pass” nowadays and I think it stems from a 15-year-old episode of Friends.

Anyone out there who is a big Friends fan knows exactly which episode I’m talking about too, “The One with Frank Jr.”

The main plot of the episode revolves around Phoebe meeting up with her younger brother, Frank Jr. for just the second time, but the subplot focused on the gang making lists of which celebrities they’re allowed to hook up with without any repercussions.

I’ve mentioned many-a-time here at BSBP that Grace and I each have a “celebrity cheat list” of our own, also influenced by the aforementioned episode. The lists have evolved over time as we each started with one person our lists, Johnny Depp for Grace and Jennifer Aniston for me.

You never forget your first...celebrity fling, that is.

Over time—likely following repeated viewings of The Bourne Identity—Grace decided we should bump the list up to two and she added Matt Damon.

The second-place spot on my list has served as a veritable game of hot potato between the following ladies: Taylor Swift, Zooey Deschanel, Carrie Underwood, Amy Adams, Jenna Fischer, hottie cheerleader from Heroes, the aforementioned Katy Perry, Heidi Watney, Emma Stone, and—for one fleeting afternoon—Mandy Moore.

The number two spot for me changes largely depending on mood, weather, and/or whichever one is closest to the Boston-metro area.

A little over a year ago there was another change in the list rules when Grace began watching Mad Men and determined that Jon Hamm needed to be added ASAP, but she couldn’t bring herself to remove Johnny Depp or Matt Damon. As such, we added a third spot to each of our lists.

Now there are two spots that get to play ping-pong for me, but despite pulling in the recent “honor” from the ashleymadison.com, Katy Perry is still not in my top three.

In fact—because it’s my blog and I can do whatever I want—here’s my top ten:

1. Jennifer Aniston
2. Zooey Deschanel
3. Taylor Swift
4. Heidi Watney
5. Katy Perry
6. Jenna Fischer
7. Carrie Underwood
8. Natalie Portman
9. Emma Stone
10. Amy Adams

Obviously this has turned into another rambling digression, but if you’re ever curious about who is in the top three for either Grace or yours truly—and who wouldn’t be, right?!—you can always check the updated top three listed at the bottom of the right-hand sidebar on this page.

In closing, I just want to say congrats to Katy Perry and I hope you have plenty of pepper-spray and a team of highly-skilled martial artists at the ready.