I was going to participate in the Friday Five this week, but it’s all about fame, and fame is lame.
Why is fame lame? First of all, you know it is lame because I am not famous.
Secondly, what do you know about famous people? You know how they behave in public, and how they purportedly behave in private. You know what they eat, screw, and adopt. You know these things because they are constantly hounded by non-famous people. But you don’t even know these things, not for real. They could all be made up. And why do you care?
Thirdly, 99.999% of the world’s population will never be famous. A big chunk of that number is constantly barraged by popular media that if they don’t already want to be, they should want to be. People willingly set themselves up for failure when the only success must involve fame.
My fourth point has been omitted because I just stopped caring about the topic.
Today’s snide journal entry brought to you by the sounds created by the upstairs neighbors who cannot be bothered to put a rug down on a hardwood floor before dropping all of their possessions on it. Also, I haven’t yet eaten lunch.