The Daily Procrastinator

Hello again, procrastinators! This wrap-up will bring you up to speed on what’s been happening here at The Daily Procrastinator for the last two weeks. Normally, as you’ve noticed by now, I’m sure, there’s a weekly wrap-up in your email every weekend. Last weekend, that didn’t happen. I procrastinated. Surely you knew that was a possibility. TDP has been as busy as ever in the past two weeks, and this is your chance to make sure that you’ve read every tasty bit. Let’s take it one week at a time, shall we?

March 16 – March 20

The week began with two posts by TallGirl, addressing first the dust-covered rollerblades she discovered while cleaning her garage, and then the combined narcissism and bad PR decisions of A-Fraud.

After many, many hours of celebrating Irish heritage, BigRedPoet (who’s German and French Canadian, by the way) published Part 1 of the beer-fueled St. Patrick’s Day adventure, chronicling the daylight hours and early evening. Part 2, which is perhaps slightly less coherent, details the happenings of the late evening and pursuant VERY early morning. Because she’s such a helpful friend, TallGirl offered a few hangover cures for anyone whose St. Patrick’s Day celebrations got out of hand.

The week ended with both lasciviousness and laughs as TallGirl wrote about her recent hot upskirt experience, and the newest Procrastinator, Marmite, bemoaned the unfortunate truth that Snuggies are taking over the world.

This break between weeks is brought to you by a grumpy, land-based koala bear. His name is Jeff.

March 23 – March 27

TallGirl started the week by wondering how FaceBook can simultaneously inspire curiosity, nostalgia, and low-level retrograde anger. As someone whose face has not been booked, I’m tempted to go sign up, just to observe this curious phenomenon.

On Tuesday, BigRedPoet offered a review of the Elton John and Billy Joel concert that he and FlashCap attended in Houston. As it turns out, two straight men can attend such a concert without the benefit of female companionship and still have a GREAT time.

Wednesday’s post was drawn from a discussion thread about important childhood memories. Several of the Procrastinators offered interesting tidbits from their young lives. Check it out, and get to know your favorite Procrastinator just a little bit better!

On Thursday, FlashCap expressed disbelief and outrage at a remarkably ignorant news article written by an ESPN reporter and posted on the company’s website. You’ve got to read it to believe it. As FlashCap seethed over the incompetence of paid professionals, TallGirl realized that Spring (the wily bugger) had sneaked up on her while she wasn’t watching. When it jumped out and yelled, “Surprise!“, the resulting joy turned into a TDP post.

BigRedPoet discovered something disturbing on Friday. While he was procrastinating by watching YouTube videos, he discovered that the Starburst Berries & Cream commercial that he found so offensive the first time had been reborn in a techno-remix version. Yikes.

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The Daily Procrastinator: Contributing to the Dramatic Reduction of Your Personal Productivity

I’m fascinated and horrified by Snuggie infomercials. I can just about take grandma Snuggie-d up on the couch (and can even envision, on an evening when the damn boiler stops working again, that it might be pretty cozy.)

But then – in the name of all things holy – the snuggies are on the loose, outside, at a sporting event. WTF people – do you not realize that while you remain snug in front, your ass is freezing its…well…ass off? And just how exactly do you propose to run from the vigilante hordes who will hunt you down for stepping outside in that thing? You’ll trip; just you wait and see – because you’re probably wearing crocs too.

OK, deep breath, it’s not real. It’s advertising dreamed up by some guy who never expected this kind of a hit – it’s bigger than the Sham-Wow for pete’s sake.

Then I read this: Snuggie Pub Crawls are sweeping the nation. Snuggie. Pub. Crawls.

True confession time. As a Brit, I have taken part in a fair number of oddly dressed – intentionally and otherwise – pub crawls. It is our national sport, after all, but even I would draw the line at hordes of drunks flaunting their freezing behinds while navigating the sidewalks in fleecy hospital gowns. Think of the static–everyone for miles around would look like Russell Brand.

I am invited to ‘Spread the Warmth – One Snuggie Pub Crawl at a Time!’ I laugh scornfully and then they pull out the big guns – the Chicago crawl has sold tickets to 3,000 people and the receipts will be donated to orphanages in Tanzania. Orphanages.

Damn you Snuggie. How can I mock you mercilessly now without looking like the kind of heartless person who doesn’t care about tiny orphaned children in Africa? Sigh.

Snuggie domination is complete, resistance is futile.