Well, this was an opening for a rather awkward thought exercise.

Did this make anyone else consider how so very fucking weird fame is? I was listening to this while writing about a shartastic moment in my own life and the juxtaposition is so startling. I mean, they are famous and yet they have to poop, it's like death and paying taxes, they can't avoid it. They can't pay someone to make a shit offering to the porcelain gods on their behalf. THESE GUYS POOP. THEY POOP JUST LIKE PEOPLE POOP! GREEN DAY POOPS! EVERY LAST ONE OF 'EM, POOPING ERRYDAY! So weird.

And then I was thinking how conspicuous I'd feel if I went on a message board and realized the topic of conversation was me. It's gotta be similar to the feeling everyone experiences in high school, when they see their friends having some animated conversation until they see you coming, hence a record scratch effect becoming the part of the soundtrack of your life.

I would troll the ever-loving shit out of someone saying some of the things people say about celebrities. No one is going to love every song, every project, that' expected. But people are really fucking mean. Glitter Bombs for the whole lot of smack talkers! And if I saw someone talking about my husband the way I've seen people eviscerate their wives' for no reason, they'd get flaming bags of dog crap, too.

TL; DR- Shit, shit, more shit. So many mentions of shit, I feel like I should submit it on Sunday instead of now.

(By the way, I had a resection done a couple weeks ago and have had way too much time on my hands while convalescing, coupled with a paradoxical reaction to pain medication, has resulted in dissertation-length replies. Thanks for putting up with it!)