Wrapped Up Like A Douche

Where Every WULAD Knows Your Name
“The network’s down.” There can be no happier words for you, my Diaspora of lovelies, because they indicate copious amounts of guilt-free work time open for the development of new breakthroughs in WULADology.

In the six months or so that I’ve been at the helm of the glorious experiment known as Wrapped Up Like a Douche, I’ve passed through many of the stages of Blogism—from the humble beginnings of relating esoteric jokes that could only be understood by people who had been drinking with me the night before, expanding to tackle tough issues of the world stage such as the race for the White House, the Goonies, and plagiarism of my thoughts on said Goonies; from a butt-fugly eye-piercingly bright yellow-green background to the subtle nuances of my current expertly-retooled blogspot template, with all the creature comforts of a modern public housing unit; from updating occasionally and being thrilled that anyone at all read it, ever, to ignoring my job, friends, and family to devote every waking moment to obsessively checking my visitor stats—and I can say definitively that, in the words of my father, I feel more like I do now than I ever did before. So keep propping up my fragile self-esteem with your continued patronage, and I’ll agree not to resort to any “extreme measures” to generate attention for the cause. (But I warn you: I can mash potatoes. I can do the Twist.)

In the news, we have word of the Pentagon developing a giant airship 25 times the size of the Goodyear Blimp, which will protect us from nuclear missiles launched by such rogue nations as North Korea and France. (No word on its effectiveness against bombs delivered by FedEx.) However, I believe its benefit will come as much from its symbolism—a gargantuan floating behemoth representative of the overwhelming and terrifying protective love of the United States for all the little nations gathered around its Golden Fence, uh, Door. (And let’s see them terrorists try to work after we’ve blocked out the Sun!) Anyone who has qualms with the idea of a huge airborne military surveillance city in the sky has clearly not taken their Patriotism Pills this week. Don’t forget, people—one red pill, one white one, and one blue. It’s as easy to remember as the theme to “What’s Happening!!”