Next Time Won't You Let Me Sing With a Frog?

The bad news for anyone named Tom or Matt or Tim or Mitt (I mean, really. Did they name him after the catcher's glove?) is that you no longer exist. No vowels, no M, no T. For that matter, George and Gloria and Hilda and Bertha are all gone. If you're reading this and your name does not exist, just stop it, because you're really freaking me out.

The bad news for us all is that there will be no more SEX, not even for those who mumble. You may S, which is a sort of greasy and sinuous activity which I do not recommend you partake in soon after eating. S may result in a rash of swollen red pustules, if you are doing it right. Please do not scratch at, poke, or puncture the pustules, as eventually the next generation will emerge from them in an agonizing and beautiful process which doctors refer to as "devouring the host."

The battles were hard-fought, but M, T, and X are gone. Only K, S, V, and Z survive. If the Ramones had ever existed, they might have written an alphabet song which went like this:

"K! S! V, Z!/K! S! V, Z!/K! S! V, Z!/K! S! V, Z!"

Then Phil Spector would have added a cello track and used the master tapes for target practice.

Here's a bit of nostalgia from years past, when all the letters were alive and the guy from the Crash Test Dummies was writing a song about them:

NOW THE MAIN EVENT(S)! VOTING IS NOW CLOSED

( IT'S DOWN TO THE FINAL FOUR! )

Results Wednesday.

Random Confessions, An Ongoing Series

I still like White Zombie.

Another Books Meme

( I am not convinced that people actually read these lists, but here you go )