now that's what i call marketing.

In 45 minutes of MTV viewing, I saw the ad for Now That's What I Call Music Volume 13, four times. I'm sure you'll be glad to hear that it ships with a complimentary Now That's What I Call A Beachball.

Last I checked, we were at Volume 8, so you can imagine how shocked I was that those Real World kids are still as annoying as ever. And suddenly, they speak a little French. Luckily they are still taking turns, "growing as a person," and, "thinking of this as a learning experience."

After fifteen minutes of The Osbournes, when I decided that I might like to get myself coiffed like Kelly, I remembered that there's as yet no vaccine for viral marketing and turned off the TV right quick.

and speaking of sneakers.

Not living in or around NYC has induced a serious Perceived Lack of Shoes (PLOS, not to be confused with PLOOJ, from which I also, coincidentally, suffer) of late.

Looking for the PLOOJ link just led me all over the place. I think this must be referring to me... and my vulgarity, which I hold even nearer and dearer than my shoes, sorry to say. Incidentally, and as I fear others would attest, I'm not half as vulgar here as I am in person.

Two more mentions of PLOOJ.

What are you hoarding these days?

sneaks.

Anyone know where Ev got these sneakers?

Update:
Evan is a man who appreciates my need for shoes. The sneakers in question are called the "Evidence," which I would probably buy, sight-unseen, if my name was Ev. Thanks Ev!

Unfortunately, they came from a place called Shoe Biz, in the Haight, in SF, where I haven't been in years and don't really anticipate being for a while. To all others: keep an eye out for these sneaks, or something similarly red and yellow, for me.

Yet another update:
Wheeeeee! The internet rules the school!