i like the color orange, but...

Holy hell! Where the devil did I just vanish to for a week?! It's as if I was stuck in a silly little elf Matrix land dancing the Charleston with a little elfin Keanu Reeves and that poor dog he drop kicked in Point Break (fast forward to 5:07 in that last link for the puppy-kicking retardulousness).

Was it all just a wonderful dream, if, of course, by "wonderful dream," I mean "horrific nightmare"? Seriously, I'd sooner have Patrick Swayze in a Ronald Reagan mask hurling a pitbull at me (which I would decidedly not dropkick) than be caught dead in those horribly ugly Matrix sunglasses... Suffice it to say, I am extremely relieved to be back to reality. Seriously, elfin Keanu Reeves' virtual reality is not all it's cracked up to be. And, of course, by "elfin Keanu Reeves' virtual reality," I really mean "prison."

Just kidding!

I wasn't really in prison. I was just stranded in the wilderness (in my mind) and, unfortunately, I couldn't get back until one of the bears I was living amongst (in my mind) learned how to ride a moped so he could drive me back to civilization. I tried to get him to don a Ronald Reagan mask and rob a bank with me (I'd be wearing the Nixon mask, clearly), but apparently that son of a bitch had some toilet paper to pedal. Whatever. Sellout.

Anyway, so here I am. Here you are. Here we are e-together again. Unfortunately, since I've been rotting in prison some mysterious woods somewhere (in my mind) with magical cartoon bears who can drive, I haven't gained much DC-related fodder to mock. So instead, I'll turn to the one mock-worthy subject that always provides me topics to e-kibbitz about -- myself.

But, oh sh*t! I can't even mock myself right now because, clearly, anyone who spends a week avoiding any contact with civilization in favor of hanging out with imaginary bears can't bear any more ridicule. (But she can still make cringe-worthy puns!).

So in place of my go-to Plan B, we're moving on to Plan C -- questionable eBay items. Or, in this case, one questionable eBay item:


Now, this questionable eBay item isn't questionable solely because it's the most retarded-looking mascot of all time (Seriously, what is it? A fluorescent orange ant? Please see this, in comparison, to realize many-a-mascot dream.); it's questionable because of how the seller titled it: "New adult size orange sex Mascot Costume Christmas Free."

First brought to my attention by one Mr. Socrates Johnson, we wondered immediately why the word "sex" was included in this item's description. I mean, this little ensemble screams "sex" just about as much as a traffic cone. Actually, I take that back. A traffic cone is much sexier.


Damn, that is a fine scarf. But that orange bug-like thing above? It doesn't have a scarf! It doesn't have mysterious sunglasses; or a cigar for effect; it's not even French (Jean-Claude the sexy traffic cone posing above clearly parle le français). So how is that oversized fluorescent orange entomological mascot an oversized fluorescent orange entomological sex mascot?

Much like the enigmatic activity that occurred (in my mind) this past week (with all of its Keanus, dropkicked dogs, dead president masks, moped-riding bears, toilet paper endorsements, stint in the state pen, and general shambles), perhaps it will never make sense. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a tear to tattoo under my eye. Oh, and this NSFW, but surprisingly safe for network television, item to forward around my office:



See? The world can't be that horrible of a place if a major network is allowing the boys from The Lonely Island to take total control of Saturday Night Live! Or at least take total control of two minutes and 40 seconds of it. Hey, it's a start.