The Finger

Hey all.

I want to break the notion that I only have things to say on this blog when things go wrong or when I am being persecuted by peons of agencies like "HRP". (Honestly, I thought that HRP meant either Human Resources / Personnel--or Honey, I Ripped My Pants, I'm not a very good spellar, you see.)

Well, if you MUST know, I'm still being persecuted, mostly by the front covers of Sports Illustrated who non-stop whisper things about me to the brides-to-be on the wedding magazines.

But my publicist (played by the man who lives in Fozzie Bear's finger) and HIS intern (played by the woman who lives OUTSIDE of Fozzie Bear's finger) each gave me a great idea.

The first was to throw away the alfalfa sprouts that had been in the fridge for far too long.

The second, though not as urgent as the first, was to post my advertising work on my blog. So that unlike *some* people, *I* have something to prove I exist. Because why would someone go on to create a fictitious person to create bad ads? While some bad advertisers ought to spend the rest of their days thinking about their careers, and whether they spelled spankalicious right or not (who, after all, does one consult when spelling of the word spankalicious?), I have more extroverted shameless self-promotion to do. Well, lucky for me, the woman who lives outside of Fozzie Bear's finger showed me the light, and told me there were no Es in spankalicious. Saving me the embarrassment and a mean bout with salmonella.

So this post is dedicated to the boys in blue who make up the characters in the "new" show, The Shield.

An awesome cast and great writing about a police district in crime-, gang-, drug-filled Farmington, Los Angeles. The temptation to steal, protect druglords, and be on the take for these characters is too great, especially when the lines of morality are blurred by the rising vapors of everyday life and the face-to-face enounters with death.