This blog is, and always has been, entirely for sale

Hello world. And by "world", I mean the one or perhaps two of you who are negligent enough to have left this blog in your RSS feed. Perhaps you've done so out of affection for yours truly; perhaps you have thousands of atrophied blogs in your Google Reader roll that you can't bother to sort; or maybe you're my stalker, and you make a nightly habit of pouring over these old entries in a dimly lit freight container down by the docks, burning eye holes in photos of me with a lit cigarette.

Whatever the reason, I'm disturbed by you. You shouldn't be here. There are more enriching ways to spend your time. Perhaps you're a candidate for tropical fish ownership. It's not much more exciting than checking in on once-a-year-updates on an obscure blog, but at least you'll have something to show girls when you bring them to your room.


See, almost completely worthless.

Since you are here, and apparently have decided to wage on beyond the barrage of verbal assaults I'm both writing and thinking right now, I can only assume you're considering the purchase of BowlofGranola.com. What a shrewd business person you are. What a captain of industry. You, much like a distant past version of myself, have recognized the potential for profit in owning such a URL, and you are to be commended for your acumen.

You should know that when I got in to the blogging game, I did not do so for frivolous reasons. Much like a prospector recognizes the financial potential in the hills of old timey California, I began this endeavor with comical cartoon dollar signs dancing around my head to a cacophony of cash register noises.



Now that I have achieved all of my financial goals and am posting this from my 100-foot yacht with a customized, stem-cell-infused, Rhino ivory hull, I am ready to pass along this incomparable financial boon to you. Think of all you could do with BowlofGranola.com. You could start a nutrition website. You could start a website that sells bowls. The possibilities are literally endless.

If you are a smart, attractive, business-savvy individual with above average prowess in the bedroom, then you're the perfect candidate to own this url. Contact buythisurl@bowlofgranola.com today to start your new life. You won't be sorry you did!*

* BowlofGranola.com is not responsible for the remorse you will ultimately experience from purchase. We are also not responsible for any financial ruin, personal unhappiness, or general life-ruining that results from this sale.

A new direction...

Howdy.

A resounding "howdy" is more than overdue to all you lovely, patient denizens of the web's dark, dank nooks, crannies and corners. Sadly, as I'm sure you've noticed from The Bowl's pitiful posting frequency, it looks like it too has fallen in to said disused nooks, crannies and corners.

But like the phoenix who must rise from the ashes, or the inebriate vagrant who must hit rock bottom before discovering a revolutionary new theory in quantum physics, so too must Bowl of Granola renew and revitalize.

In the furtherance of this objective, I'd like to present three alternative themes for future content on this site. If you do find the time to dust-off your RSS feeds and view this post, feel free to weigh-in on these prospective new directions for The Bowl. If you have your own unique ideas about future content, get the hell out of here and start your own blog. It's not hard. Really. I did it.

1. BoG Celebrity Breakfasts

Nomnomnomnom...

Capitalizing on the intrinsic search engine value of the url www.BowlofGranola.com (one I've spent literally tens of dollars to maintain over the years), BoG Celebrity Breakfasts would scour the web for the very latest articles, tweets and posts on the dietary proclivities of today's brightest stars. If Halle Berry enjoyed a hearty portion of Muesli in West Hollywood last Tuesday, the public deserves to know. If Michael Cain paused on a London street corner to nosh on a Clif bar, The Bowl will post, syndicate, aggregate and repost. The fertile grounds of Hollywood breakfast gossip are ripe for the plow, and Bowl of Granola has the perfect opportunity to get in on the ground level before mainstream sites like the Huffington Post and CNN.com snatch up all the market share.

2. Bowl of Granola's Above Average Pet Adoptions

Not so fast there, buddy.

Let's face it, animal shelters are filled with hundreds, if not thousands of adorably homeless pets. That said, not all of these fuzzy friends are created equal. What originally appeared as a bright and sociable tabby can eventually become nothing but a fluffy burden of only mediocre intelligence. For the discerning adopter, Above Average Pet Adoptions weeds out the chaff. Our series of patent-pending animal IQ and personality tests apply a rigorous set of standards that take all of the annoying guess-work out of adopting a pet. Never again wonder if that adorable beagle could ever really learn to balance a rubber ball on his nose. Above Average Pet Adoptions selects only the very best and brightest forsaken animals to feature for adoption. Above Average Pet Adoptions - The Only "Natural Selection" You'll Ever Have to Make

3. [insert niche porn category site here]

If you tilt your head at just the right angle...

Much like overfilled animal shelters are a harsh, but unavoidable reality of life, so too are the swaths of niche pornography websites available on the internet. This idea is admittedly the most underdeveloped of the three, but it's also worth noting that it has the most potential to provide a return on my to-date investment of both time and approximately $25 in BowlofGranola.com. I'm not sure what sort of niche a pornography site called BowlofGranola.com would fill, but I'd certainly be interested to find out. Maybe it would feature animated gifs of attractive people eating cereal in the nude (note the potential crossover with idea #1). Or it could abandon the url's theme entirely and create a long-overdue home for Crypto-zoological-philiacs (those who fantasize about intercourse with Unicorns, Dragons, etc...). It's too early to say what my porn empire will ultimately look like, but it's not too early to say that it will afford me a gold-plated XBOX.

Because otherwise, what's the point?

Boredom in Perpetuity

So, it being nearly a year since my last post, I thought I'd drop back in and say hello.

I bring you today, a delightful song parody written by yours truly.

This was inspired by a post on a gaming forum I frequent titled "The Day Games Died". It got stuck in my head and resulted in the following:

A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How my XBOX used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my way
I could play most every day.
And, maybe, I’d be happy for a while.

But three red rings, they wrecked my morning,
Crashed my rig and gave no warning.
Those little lights were once green,
Now I'm staring at a blank screen.

Now, I can’t remember if I cried
When Master Chief's death was implied,
But something touched me deep inside
The day my XBOX died.

Oh why, why, did my three-sixty fry?
Lost all control of my console,
Now I just want to cry.
And I get no help from their lame tech support guy.
He says my warrantee expired last July.
My warrantee expired last July.

Did you play Oblivion,
And shoot-off fireballs just for fun,
Or was your character melee?
Or do you excel at C.O.D.,
And let grenades fly far and free,
With enough kills for a thousand UAVs?

Well, I thought that I should try a Wii
or just go get a PS3.
But I just bought a year of Live,
They pressured me to subscribe.

Now I'll spend way more than a buck
To fix this deluge of bad luck.
Damn, the whole world sure did suck,
The day my XBOX died.

I started singin’,
Why, why, did my three-sixty fry?
Lost all control of my console,
Now I just want to cry.
And I get no help from their lame tech support guy.
He says my warrantee expired last July.
My warrantee expired last July.

Now for one month I was on my own
While I just sat there and bitched and moaned,
Cause' that's just how it had to be.
While the techies solder, prod and poke,
Laughing at this cosmic joke.
Cause' my fee, it pays their salary.

Oh and while my three-sixty was down,
I was the saddest kid in town.
I had just bought GTA,
but had no means to play!
And while my friend edits his avatar,
and a "Hero" played his fake guitar,
All I had was NPR,
The day my XBOX died.

We were singing,
Why, why, did my three-sixty fry?
Lost all control of my console,
Now I just want to cry.
And I get no help from their lame tech support guy.
He says my warrantee expired last July.
My warrantee expired last July.

Smackdown, Crackdown I'll just have to back down,
Fallout will wait while I sit with a slacked frown,
Watching my XBOX gather dust.
I'll no longer be Left 4 Dead,
Only slaughter zombies in my head,
While the Gears of War will slowly start to rust.

Now instead of playing Bioshock,
I'm stuck here staring at the clock.
No genes around to splice,
Or junkies to freeze in ice!
So The Big Daddies are forced to yield,
And the doors to Rapture all are sealed.
My low HP just can't be healed,
The day my XBOX died.

We were singing,
Why, why, did my three-sixty fry?
Lost all control of my console,
Now I just want to cry.
And I get no help from their lame tech support guy.
He says my warrantee expired last July.
My warrantee expired last July.

Oh, once we were all in one place,
Connected through cyberspace
Sporting censored gamertags.
So come on: Microsoft please fix it quick!
Don't drag your ass and act like pricks.
Because Sony and Nintendo can contend.

Oh, but hey that looks like UPS!
With a package for my stoop to bless.
Was that just my doorbell?
Oh god, I'm through this hell!
As I swung the door with sheer delight,
I stumbled on a loathsome sight
They didn't have the address right,
The day my XBOX died.

We were singing,
Why, why, did my three-sixty fry?
Lost all control of my console,
Now I just want to cry.
And I get no help from their lame tech support guy.
He says my warrantee expired last July.
My warrantee expired last July.

I tried to play my PS2,
Then sit and watch some Doctor Who,
But it was just not the same.

So I went straight down to my Gamestop,
And brought some games that I could swap
But I left there empty-handed, full of shame.

And back on Live, the PWNers reveled
The children cussed and the noobies leveled,
I could not have spoken,
My XBOX still was broken.
And while the gamers I admire most
Lost connection to their host,
I went to Tweet a nasty post.
The day my XBOX died.

And they were singing,
Why, why, did my three-sixty fry?
Lost all control of my console,
Now I just want to cry.
And I get no help from their lame tech support guy.
He says my warrantee expired last July.
My warrantee expired last July.

They were singing,
Why, why, did my three-sixty fry?
Lost all control of my console,
Now I just want to cry.
And I get no help from their lame tech support guy.
He says my warrantee expired last July.

Royal Gaga

So I know I haven't posted in forever, and I might not post much in the days to come, but this....this requires a post:



No, your eyes aren't playing tricks. That is indeed Lady Gaga curtseying to the Queen of Freeking England. Now I've seen eeeeevvvvrything.

The Hey Jude Flowchart - Charttastic

I think the following speaks for itself.




Via.