Paris Hilton Attends Noise Rock Sex Show With Michael Jackson's Google Baiter

There are certain restaurants, comedians, and East Village prostitutes I feel the same way about, but for whatever reason: I insist on frequenting noisy laptop shows, knowing exactly the "this blows my mind" then "this blows" trajectory most take, then inevitably spend the next 24 hours barking bout how boring and blowy and un-noisy they were. This isn't sadomasochism, nor is it optimism or even federalism. Really I'm just anxious to put an end to all the lazy "he's checking his email!" riffs out the peanut gallery, and replace them with the infinitely lazier "he's playing Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing!" raffs out cashew corner.
The Village Voice: Riff Raff