If this picture from MySpace is to be believed, Dana Carvey is now a middle-aged Beverly Hills housewife with a taste for Botox and/or Photoshop. Is it so crazy to hope that graphic representations of people bear a realistic resemblance to the real thing? Oh, I guess not.
Facebook, which has my birthdate on file, keeps overestimating my age by several brackets. No, I'm not a fortysomething looking to date! And I'm definitely not a 50-65 year old female looking to score free samples of Neosporin and Opti-Free. You're making yourself look foolish, Facebook. If you're going to pillage my personal information for advertising purposes, at least use it accurately.
I have come to grips with the fact that I do a lot of unnecessary reading, and a lot of reading of stuff with a decidedly negative tone that I'm just tired of absorbing, so I pared down the subscriptions on my Google Reader. So long, Defamer. See ya later, Gawker. Also, a new rule - no laptop in bed. It's a pointless exercise in prolonging insomnia, does not enrich my life by any measure, and contributes to my chronic neck pain (which I'm finally going to see the doctor about today!). As soon as I can I'm going to hit the library for some actual books that will comprise my nighttime reading - humor/essay type stuff I am starting to write more of. (Thanks to Bryan for, again, being a good influence on me.)