Starlee Kine here. I am your penultimate guest blogger. At least I think I am. Tomorrow there’s a whole “cast and writer” thing happening so I’m not sure if I am supposed to regard them as individuals or one brilliant, attractive blob of talent. And when I say blob, I truly mean that in a good way. I just keep picturing all these bodies rolled up together with arms and feet poking out, writing and saying wonderful things. You should not picture them that way.
Here are some things I would like you to know about me:
1) I am sometimes on the radio show This American Life. Maybe you have heard me before. Maybe the story you heard was this one: http://bit.ly/cRZ7al . In that story I call up Phil Collins and we talk for awhile about heartbreak and sad break up songs. It is really fine if you have no idea what I’m talking about. Yesterday I ran into a guy from the dog park (the same dog park I have occasionally seen Guest Blogger of Recent Videogum Past Joe Mande) and he told me he loved a story that wasn’t actually my story. I had to tell him it wasn’t mine and then he felt embarrassed and then I felt embarrassed and now neither of our dogs can probably ever go to the dog park again. Or run again. This is why the Internet is better than human interaction. That would never happen here.
2) I hate the television show the Walking Dead. Tremendously. If I were Michelle Obama, Walking Dead would be my childhood obesity. I’d travel the country filling people with hate. But it would be focused hate. Healthy hate. And unlike Michelle Obama, I would not try to put an end to my cause. I need the Walking Dead to stay on for a long, long time. I’d love to pass on my hate to as many future generations as possible. In fact, it’d be worth becoming a real life zombie in order to go on forever trashing this show.
3) I have never blogged before (I have done an incredible amount of internet stalking, though and that feels like it sort of counts.) I’m feeling very excited. But also nervous. Last night I even had an anxiety dream. I was typing words in real time on a huge computer screen. It was probably the ozone layer. Most likely the ozone layer is just a giant crappy MacBook that lasts for two years and then breaks. The whole planet was watching me type and I kept misspelling every word and having to go back and correct my mistakes. The planet’s interest quickly waned. Also I was naked. And my teeth kept falling out. And the doctor who tended to the plane crash was his mom!
4) Even though this is my first time, I’m can already tell how drunk with power I’ll be feeling by the end of the day. It’s going to be a real problem once tanned, Hollywood Gabe comes back. I am not looking forward to the scene where he has to drag me away from the internet by my ankles.
So tempted to type my name here but I have a suspicion that’s like when parents say “love mom/dad” at the end of voice mail messages. How about I just say, so it begins.