Now Entering The Terrible Twos

On a quiet New Year's Eve two years ago today, Bourgeois Nerd unobtrusively exnihiliated into being in cyberspace. A couple of years later, who would have ever thought it'd still be around?!? I'm glad it is, though.

Doing this is a real pleasure for me: it lets me vent and express myself in a way that would be impossible otherwise. But what I really want to do is thank you, dear readers, for making Bourgeois Nerd the C-List blog it is today! Without you kind people, I'd just be talking to myself here and that'd just be really sad. So, tonight, while you guzzle down the champagne and blow your whistles, raise a glass to yourself.

Me? I'll be lame as always, watching the ball drop in Times Square from the comfort of my family room and probably working on new posts for your enjoyment. Cheers!

Cyber Addictions

Some people just can't get e-nough!

I'm very aware of my Internet addictions. I check my email and blogs constantly. I'm always on my Site Meter. And I can click the "Random Page" link on Wikipedia for hours at a time. But I can stop at any time! Really!

I'm Sure The Germans Already Have A Word For It

Potentially useful neologism: Google-thwart.

(Via Books, Inq.)

Lazy Schmazy

One has to say this for us lazies: when we need to, we sure can book it! Right on, my slothful mammalian sister!

You May Bow And Scrape Now

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: His Exalted Highness Duke Frank the Indecisive of Tempting St Mary Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Emperor Frank the Winsome of Much Leering Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: The Right Reverend Frank the Decent of Longer Interval Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

(Via Pharyngula)

Eye Color

The genetics of eye color is a lot more complicated than is often taught.

Keats Thinks...

...we're all little bits of God. Sometimes, in my more mystical moments, that's what I think, too.

Keats is my favorite "Big" Romantic, BTW. Byron's too much of a Personality, Shelley a little too posh, Coleridge too... something (I don't know what), and Blake too freakin' weird.

It's All Connected

It's all so postmodern: Foucault, department stores, and YouTube.

(Via Maud Newton)

Someday!

Someday, I'll be on The American Heritage Dictionary Usage Panel and show them all!!! *MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!*

(Via Maud Newton)

For Gunn

Pursuant to the question in your latest comment, I present the Cute Overload Glossary. As I suspected, "prosh" is short for "precious." It's always nice to be proven right!

What A Deliciously Macabre Historical Event!

The Cadaver Synod

(Via Cute Overload of all places!)

After Christmas

I hope everyone had a nice Christmas and got everything they wanted from Santa. I did well, myself. Nice, quiet day with family.

If you're back at work, condolences. But there's New Year's and the blog birthday to look forward to!

Merry Christmas To All!

Don Thee Now Our Gay Apparel...

And so on...

Our Inner Twelve Year-Old Emma Bovarys Have A Lot To Answer For!

The dangers of romanticism.

(Via We, Like Sheep)

I'm Too Nice, Damnit!

You Were Nice This Year!

You're an uber-perfect person who is on the top of Santa's list. You probably didn't even *think* any naughty thoughts this year. Unless you're a Mormon, you've probably been a little too good. Is that extra candy cane worth being a sweetheart for 365 days straight?

Were You Naughty or Nice This Year?

(Via Professorial Confessions)

Christmas Eve

If you're already sick of the caroling and eggnog and cards and such by now, here's a Christmas-related article to cleanse the palate: Christmas science.

Proud To Be Behind The Times

I'm with Frank and Maxine: you aren't going to see my mug or my dulcet tones plastered all over the blogosphere any time soon, I can assure. It's great for people who want to/can, and can be done really well, but it's not for me. I much prefer the "written" word.

Go Green By Going Yellow!

Recycle your urine.

Thinking Of Flying Off To Russia?

Don't. The airports are crap, apparently.

(Via We, Like Sheep)