The Card: Borussia Dortmund vs Brigsby Bear; Ozzyman & Hilton vs Wilde & Swift

I left my Hot Topic credit card at home, which is probably a good thing, but missing out on $75 of Hot Cash seems to be fumble on my behalf. Feels like it, but I may only have the space for one Funko Pop! in my 18 boxes of 17 toys (19 if you include the wrestling themed box, 20 if you count the ones on display) so it is a good stopping point. Either hold out for a Rei or Squirtle, or find a job that offer printer paper boxes to claim. That may have been the best thing about the I Hotel, but that probably is not indeed.com appropriate.

And with that said, you know I can never just return the particle board palace that Peter Fox built. It would be nice to recoup some income, but I think that I will manage Wizard World somehow. No need to go back to my blogs trashing the place and editing the comments out. Sadly, on a Sunday this slow, that would prevent me from needing to write despite a lack of movies to review or something driving me to satire.

It is July 21 if your are wondering when this is being written. The 19th and 20th involved 12 hours of driving and weather that prevented further exploration of Northwest Indiana. You get to bed at 2 am to wake up at 8 am, you have not met the sleep quota for a "vacation" day. Especially when an hour of driving was taking detours to try and kill a fried chicken craving of mine to no avail. Hence, I went to bed before 10 pm to conclude the quest that witnessed a worthwhile defeat of Liverpool FC.

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I gotta love my girlfriend, she was so dedicated to my love of Newcastle United and disdain for my family's team, she thought that the guys in yellow were the Magpies the whole time. Wearing my 2009-2010 Alan Shearer kit probably helped maintain a level of confusion. In the end, I hope she had fun, instead of giving me lip service the only way she can which her misspelling of Dortmund on her Facebook post about the trip suggests.

It is a long way around to say, "Brigsby Bear" will be next week. As for my satire, Twitter is trying to kill it.

You get the idea for something to rant about, and you do not want to lose it, so you get those 140 character out there as fast as you can. 280 sounds nice, but when your greater social media presence is on Facebook, you better make it small enough that you can put the white text in front of a colorful background.

Do hashtags even work on Facebook? The phone app does not lead me to believe that. Why are Area 51 memes so important that the migration to the less Russian-influenced social network must be placed on hold?

Scarier yet, am I to expect an email from the class of 1999 reunion committee? I do not remember giving them my address. Damn you Zuckerberg!

Then again, one of them may have stole it after reading my request for ideas about how to promote "Main Event of the Dead," my pro-wrestling zombie comedy script. You could have at least faked it and asked for a treatment if you were going to use russthebus07@gmail.com for your own gain?

I suppose it just took a little warming up to get me truly ranting about something, but with the Internet the way it is, Jonathan Swift and Oscar Wilde could not leave a literary footprint on today's world.

The wisest minds as social media sensations. You might get "Dorian Gray" and "Gulliver's", but those Irishmen would have probably coast on YouTube after that. It makes me rethink my "Ozzyman Reviews" fandom. How active on Twitter is George RR Martin? Are his little birds the reason for the book delays?

You can say something funny like, "here is the nutritional value of one Irish newborn," but if there is no reaction, you will not be inspired to walk it back to produce the long form. I think that is how Twitter has ruined my blogging.

When I think back to the #Hasttag Wars from "@midnight," I got a satisfactory amount of likes, but there was not anything to expand upon. The only rant I could go on would be about somebody winning #WorseStarWars (thank you DiHard for @Midnight Hashtag Archive) with OBGYN-Kenobi since that had been on a T-Shirt Hell product for years. Would that really be of interest to anyone except the bitter losers like myself? Perhaps it is just the feeling of being born to lose at times, but I doubt there are many losers like myself.

I suppose Wilde would have been a YouTube sensation, or would he just be forgotten because of the vacant girls competing against him? His feud with Perez Hilton would be awesome, but when you got so much substance, resist the likes.

In the end, I wonder how these great mics (It is a vanilla-on-vanilla insult. I am at least a quarter-drunk myself. Old wrestling gimmicks die hard.) would have the opportunity to write all these ideas down. Life lack all the conveniences of today. My bitching of a 14-hour Sunday would fall upon deaf ears at that time. Of course, there were probably a lot more deaf ears to fall upon in the age of bleedings and mercury, but I will digress.

Is it the distractions that are really screwing up creativity in general? Is it spirit-crushing capitalism? If only they were around to give us some insight. Provided they did not have a phone to dick around with (imagine Wilde dicking around).

So, yeah, it is the distractions.

Post Script: In the end, I may have ordered nine Pops [two for my nephew], when they extended the redemption time an additional two days, bleeding into an odd three-day off stretch. Just an indication that I am not working enough to have two jobs.

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