Tragedy; or, Not My Fault

I had some fabulous potential topics to blog about yesterday. Really, they were quite brilliant, and I was quite excited to share my brilliance with the interweb, so you can imagine my disappointment on discovering that my internet connection was down like a cheap whore. Alas! The interweb was to remain unenlightened! Tragedy!

I'd post yesterday's strokes of brilliance in their entirety, but I think the magic is lost. Instead, you get a one-line summary of each of the three posts that I might have made yesterday.

1. Ghetto resume, e.g. That's Just How I Roll (Experience), All Up In My Grillz (Education)
2. An in-depth analysis of the kind of friendship that results in the compliment "If I had to have anyone's pee in my sink, it would be yours."
3. The percentage of women in the average Brown line car with no/severely-reduced pubic hair as proportional to the car's proximity to Lincoln Park.

I know, you're just devastated that none of these will ever go beyond a one-line summary. I think you know who to blame; remember, Comcast = $5 whore.