10% Corn, 90% Lazy

Jesus.

I really tied one on last night. Rest assured, it was all for a good cause though. And that cause would be New Orleans Saints football. Yes, the older I got, the more time I found myself sitting at a bar watching groups of grown men in tights behave in a peculiar manner so that they might have a chance of holding a ridiculously shaped ball on national television. Then I found myself having opinions on said groups of grown men in tights. Then I found myself comparing and contrasting said opinions of said groups of grown men in tights with other people at the bar whose names were likely Hank or Al. Now I work at a bar that, while nominally a craft beer bar, also serves double duty as a Saints bar and last night, they beat the 49ers. Which is why I woke up at 2:30 in the afternoon and couldn't even think of staring into the glare of a computer screen until 4:30.

Thinking hurts too.

Happily, when I finally got around to opening up my BacMook, I found that the gods of internet bullshit had noticed my plight and put all the silly news within easy stumbling distance of my haphazard googling. For example: Mother Nature is apparently trying to take NYC back. In two stories that are unrelated, yet both on Gawker, Brooklyn has a self-inflicted possum infestation and a Bronx man found a three foot long corn snake in his crapper. My will to resist the obvious joke possibilities inherent in the phrase "three foot long corn snake in the toilet" is very weak right now so let's skip that story and go right to the possums.
At some undisclosed time in the past, some undisclosed city department let a bunch of possums (I refuse to put the "O" in front, just as I refuse to say "croissant" like a Frenchman) loose in Brooklyn's parks and under the Coney Island boardwalk in the hopes that they would eat all the rats and then die.  The whole concept of this thing just reeks of someone who can count on one hand the number of times they've been more than fifty yards from an electrical outlet. There is no doubt in my mind that at this very moment there is a toothless hillbilly somewhere in Mississippi laughing his corn-whiskey-soaked ass off.

Because it's the first thing that comes up when you search "hillbilly laughing"

Then, while loitering around over at the New York Post's website, I was rather unsurprised to see this:

But is it art?

This was in their "Day in Photos" slideshow for some reason. That reason is probably that someone at that paper want this to be an actual photograph SO HARD right now.
Also interesting but fairly irrelevant, is the fact that Phil Davison sounds 10% less crazy but a staggering 200% more awesome when he screams uncontrollably to an inspirational soundtrack. I'd vote him.
Know what? I can't even pretend like I can do this today. I just finished two cups of coffee and all I want to do right now is drop a three foot long corn snake in the toilet and go back to bed. Here's the movie Joaquin Phoenix should have made to play you out.