Internets, it should surprise none of you that I am a compulsive doodler in meetings. Herewith, I give you a selection of:Things I Wrote in a Notebook During Meetings at Work Two to Four Years Ago (In Which I Remember Neither the Meeting, Nor Writing These Things During Them)abyssus abyssum invocathell calls hell--------Bands:--Bofus Eyes--binLaden Family Singers--------Whoooooo’s High-Pitch? This is Kelly Clarkson!--------

Internets, I cannot brook bananas. The whole concept is unsupportable. A cheery, tropical yellow package, crammed full of vitamins and potassium and good nutrition, great fun for monkeys and for dorm RAs who are trying to teach freshpersons how to use a condom – but it’s sheer gaggy death to eat one. My GOD what a horrible taste. And the texture, holy flaming SHATNER the texture. It’s what every food is going to be like in your mouth in hell – dig into that juicy steak? BANANA TEXTURE! Crunch some salt and vinegar potato chips?

Girl next to me on the bus was reading a book – a “trade paperback,” as we say in the biz, not a romance novel, and my eye fell upon this actual, apparently non-ironic sentence:Nikki(1) blushed, thinking of Eric’s devil-may-care attitude(2), bad-boy smile(3) and chiseled body.(4)” Wait a minute. Did Michael Patterson write this?---------

1) Must we – really, must we – allow Fred Armisen to go on living?2) Have y’all read this? You should. Sample quote: “ …and legalizing gay marriage, while it may annoy those people, will not force them to meet any gays, eat any gay wedding cake, RSVP to any gay invitations, or otherwise get any gay cooties on themselves.”

Who the hell told that piece-of-chicken teenage douchebag Zac Efron he could act? I mean, who is this little fucknuts, and why is he a multimillionaire? Why do cheese-eating fools like him get all the money and fame and chicks?

Apropos of the B-team YA novel series thought the other day:YA Novel Series That I Read as a Yute, Which, Frankly, Really Could’ve Been Time Better Spent Otherwise, but Then I Wouldn’t Have These Golden Memories

In Walgreens this a.m. looking for baby Orajel (which Target doesn’t sell – weird, huh?), I am assaulted by that goddamned “Good mornin' America how are ya / somethin somethin train somethin New Orleans” song (can’t be arsed to look it up, earworm already in FULL EFFECT, kthxbai). I said out loud at louder-than-conversational volume, “This is the worst song in the history of recorded music.” And this one guy walking past, probably early 40s, Dockers and a blazer, looks me right in the eye and says flatly, “Yup.”Fucking awesome!

You know how one of the easiest ways to lower your kitchen water & energy consumption levels is to run a full dishwasher? Well, not so much if you have to run it twice because you forgot to put soap in, and then you start putting everything away and don't figure it out till you get to the baby's bottles and they're like just not clean and you're all, hey, what's the deal with ... why are these ... oh, right. That strange thin greasy film over everything you just put away wasn't your imagination after all. Reduce, reuse, recycle, re-wash.

Am I the only one who missed this insanity? Jimmy Fallon taking over Conan’s slot, while the goofy (yet surprisingly and hottly cut) redhead gives Leno the boot? I didn’t even know my boy Conan was moving up an hour (shows how Up on Current Events I am, right?).

So last night on the tee-vee I see yet another promo for some sort of new dance-off show. People, Internets, America: What the FUCK is with all the goddamn dancing?