Happy Third of the Month!

And what a Third of the Month it is! Just look at that weather. It's like spring. Well, here it is, at least. And it should help get us in the right mood to properly celebrate the beauty that is ourselves.

Today is the day that we forget about all the bad stuff, like contaminated water that is f*cking up your experiments and how you were told you were moving from this hellhole at the end of the month but now you're not really moving until May and Fred is dead, or at least taken over by some sort of demon-god. No, let's not think about those things.

Let's think about celebrating what is good and wonderful about you and the world. Like I did last night. I experienced good ol' fashioned campy fun at The Boy From Oz. There was more cheese than the Wisconsin State Fair; like when a sequined Hugh Jackman's gay lover comes back from the dead to serenade him with an Olivia Newton-John song and Jackman prances across the stage trying to grasp onto his lover's ghost but can't because his wrists seemed to have no tensile strength. But what do you expect from a musical who's two lead female characters are Judy Garland and Liza with a Z?

At least it was intentional cheese, unlike The Passion of the Christ, where poor Jesus not only has to save all mankind, suffer the torture of being in a Mel Gibson movie and speak in subtitles, but also invents the Ikea dining room set.

But I digress.

Today is about self-indulgence, self-satisifaction, self-esteem and moist towelettes, among other things. So I've done the most self-indulgent thing possible. I've launced this weblog. I kind of shamelessly ripped the idea from the boy, but you've all known it was only a matter of time before the Third of the Month made it's internet debut. Love yourselves. Openly and often. And wear plaid, even if it's only your undies.