Premonitions

I'm not saying I predicted Slobodan Milosevic's death, just that he doesn't watch beach volleyball, but perhaps my blog is now a death clock of sorts.

If I have somehow, through some sort of unspoken, unknown connection between my blog and the future of humanity, directly affected a person's existence, then...

I think I'll blog more about Elvira Kurtz.

UPDATE!

Do yourself a favour and Google the name Elvira Kurtz. Go, do it. Now.

Alright, here, I'll do it for you.

See that? I'm out there baby!

The Bread Crumbs post worked. My stupid, utterly ridiculous ploy has me back on top of yet another Google search.

If you don't know me, this is basically what I cling to in life — completely meaningless accomplishments. This is my equivalent of having a hit single on the Billboard charts or a best-selling novel. Yup, it's true.

Side note, here friends: Have I also been directly involved in the annihilation of Kurtz's career? No.

But, think about it, is this not a beautiful commentary that backs up everything I've ever said about her? This is supposedly one of Canada's finest comedians (according to her people only of course), she hosted a nationally-televised show, she has been shoved down our throat over the past five years despite blatant evidence of her disgraceful lack of talent and the end result is that a Google search turns up, right at the top, my stupid little rant.

Beautiful. Friends, I present to you the career death knell of Elvira Kurtz, brought to you — in part — by David Larkins.

I will try not to use my powers for evil.