…to all the guest bloggers who in my absence filled this site with such…relevance. Seldom has protein wisdom been so timely and topical, and for that I thank each and every one of you.
Of course, now that I’m back, we can put at end to all that “substance” nonsense, which frankly strikes me as being very time consuming. Instead, it’s time to get back to what my readers so desperately crave: oblique and often glancing remarks that may or may not have something to do with a) my hair b) the Mideast peace process c) a character from the underrated Mickey Rourke vehicle Johnny Handsome, and/or d) former child star Alfred Lutter’s lunch. The genius of which is, nobody can completely comprehend any of it. Ever.
eg. Sunny Boyd’s Refrigerator: A Snapshot
“What, the Arafat head cheese? Second shelf down, next to Oglivie’s carrot sticks and that half tin of pomade. Which, are you really supposed to chill that stuff? Because if you are, I’ve been living a hair lie.”
****
Anyway, if you haven’t already done so, make sure to bookmark all the bloggers you’ve been reading here the last 5 days. Each of them is well-worth your time:
Steve Green
Allah
Bill INDC
Michele C.
Beck
Charles Austin
Zombyboy
Andy O’Reilly
Velociman
Steve H
Moxie
Kate McMillan
Jeralyn M
…Thanks also to Jeremy Olson and Robert Prather, neither of whom you can bookmark at present but both of whom will return some day soon, I hope.
… who in my absence filled this site with such…relevance.
It was the post about Oliver Willis’s bedpan, wasn’t it?
Much love, my brother. Welcome back.
Bill, that would be my guess.
As if we couldn’t figure it out. Of course we can bookmark Robert Prather….because we know your secret, and the evidence is overwhelming:
Jeff Goldstein is an anagram for Robert Prather.
Man, those little red pills are a motherfucker. The last thing I remember is walking into On The Border and announcing, “A round of your finest queso for the whole house, put it on my tab!” Then something about “blind coot” not being a metaphore after all.
At least I finally understand the no pants thing. It isn’t just that I came to not wearing any pants. It’s that every pair of pants that I own has gone missing. On the upside, my fiber intake has never been better.
I had thought of something clever to write, but suddenly, overcome with grief and compassion for the denizens of Hell when remembering that Jacques Derrida recently showed up at their gate, I forgot what it was.
I’ve had this whole Hotel California thing happening today. I don’t know why, but I’m keeping a knife on hand.
Jeff,
I missed you. The others were often…strange. And I don’t mean strange in a ‘funny, Hah Hah’ way.
[The link to Vodkapundit has an extra http://]
Yowza! My overly-literal-more-serious-than-thou-couldn’t-write-an-imaginative-piece-of-fiction-if-the-shade-of-Tennessee-Williams-crawled-up-my-ass-and-dictated-it-to-me posts are considered strange compared to the whimsical flights of fancy, imaginary deadbeat neighbors, talking Apples, creative deconstruction, and interviews and live reporting cut from the broadest of broadcloth good enough to convince a credentialed Big Media stiff that Jeff is at the RNC Convention in New York while never straying more than twenty-five miles from his deadbeat neighbor in greater Denver, that is usually gracing the pages of Protein Wisdom.
Unless of course, he wasn’t writing about me, in which case, never mind.