Bloglings! In a bout of inexplicable insomnia, I come to you with outstretched hands and white flags flying.

See? It's 4:20 AM (let's break out the ganja!) and I barely even know what I'm saying anymore. I just picked the picture that's going with this entry and it's going to be a grapefruit. Why is it going to be a grapefruit? For the hell of it! That's why! Three cheers for the hell of it!

Vashta nerada (please see earlier blog entries/my wikipedia powers if you are currently unaware as to why you are apparently comparable to tiny flesh-eating shadows... except for now you actually exist, apparently. Unless I made you up inside my head? A VILLANELLE, A VILLANELLE)*, I feel I owe you all an explanation. There's this thing I do from September to June -- albeit with small breaks in December and March -- that takes up a lot of my time. School, my friends, is a jealous mistress, and she doesn't like to share me with you. So unfortunately, as I run around obsessing over things like ears in Hamlet and how the hell I'm going to memorize all the vocab for my next Arabic test, I've let this blog fall by the wayside.

Luckily for you, though, I am mildly delirious, and I can't fall asleep! HA HA, psycho blogging time!

Today's entry is brought to you by the letter Karl Rove! And by Karl Rove I refer more specifically to his speech at the other small liberal arts college in the town where I go to school. This school is the single most Scandiavian place outside of Leif-a-go-go land, and Karl had just gotten back from being inducted into the Scandinavian-American Hall of Fame. The speech started off well, with the Rove (or, as the guys sitting behind me referred to him, MC Rove) declaring that he needed to "turn of my incredibly nice, fancy iPhone," and continued with an anecdote about the Norwegian farmer who loved his wife so much, he almost told her. The movie 40 Year Old Virgin also apparently reminds Karl Rove of himself. TMI, dude. TMI.

Karl Rove totally knows what TMI means, because he told a story about some J-PEGS that he keeps in his briefcase. Karl Rove is hip. But I digress! Let us run away from this Sesame Street inspired tangent and get to the point of this blog post!

Towards the end of the summer, I became an extremely enthusiastic How I Met Your Mother viewer, and so for many weeks following my marathon I saw little rules and phenomena in life, and I often felt the need to name these things things like "the Lemon Law" or "the Slutty Pumpkin." And so, from my Barney Stinson soaked brain, I bring you THE ALY & AJ ANOMALY (alliterative!).

Now, I know several of you are shaking your heads and saying, "First the Jonas Brothers, and now this!? What is it with this girl and her obsession with Disney bands comprised only of siblings?" But bear with me for a second.

It is widely known that men and women almost never understand each other, and this is never under a magnifying glass more than a) when you are watching an episode of Ouran High School Host Club (though, to be fair, I am female and that show still kind of scares the shit out of me while simultaneously instilling in me the strange desire to write slash fanfiction) or, more commonly b) when commenting on the attractiveness of women.

Some principles of this difference of opinion are widely known and understandable -- for example, most of the men I know are just pretty psyched when a woman wears something tight, while my friends who are girls tend to be a bit more picky fashion-wise. At the same time, though, some principles are more deeply buried. And this is where Aly & AJ come in.

If you are presently unaware as to who Aly & AJ are, I suggest you catch up on your Phil of the Future! What quality programming! Basically, they are sisters that achieved small-scale Disney Channel fame by being in a couple shows and an original movie. And, as every Disney Channel star must, they have now developed a music career. Last I heard, they changed their name to 78violet? But I miss the point.

During a conversation with several friends, it was revealed that while my sister and I always wondered what it was like for Aly to be the uglier sister, all my guys friends felt bad for AJ because she was weird looking. In other words, pretty much all of my guy friends think that Aly is hotter than AJ, and the opposite is true for the large majority of my girl friends.

And so, friends, it seems that the future of the human race is slowly dwindling. It's not because of nuclear war. It's not because of Karl Rove. It's not because of the Irish Potato Famine. And it's definitely not because of Night Zombies!! or Neighbors!! that have Come Back From the Dead!! Aaaah!! It's because of Aly & AJ, for their influence is what causes a constant rift between men and women. We can only cross our fingers and hope for the best.

And if all else fails, we always have the Bonus Jonas.

* If that wasn't the most rambly paranthetical thing, I don't know what is. I'm also not sure what a parenthetical thing is, but that's besides the point.




POSTSCRIPT: I'd just quickly like to stop trying to be witty and say hi to some people -- Anda, thanks for commenting and kicking my butt into posting again! vietprince123, we can never have enough Albusbrain around here, especially if it reassures me that I'm not completely insane... yet. Samantha, it's AWESOME that you're from the North Shore. I'm from the western suburbs, so you're even closer to Beverly than me normally, and since I don't live in Massachusetts when I'm at school, you win by a lot right now. Also, hi to Marmoset Lad! You have commented on everything I've posted since people actually started reading this, and I cannot even tell you how much that boosts my little overinflated blogging ego. You guys rock! See your mustachey present as a thanks for being such awesome blog readers!