This post isn’t the big, expansive, amazing, entrancing announcement that I had mentioned earlier in the week, but in a minor bit of news I was able to unlock the advanced desktop mode on my Asus eee PC that my parents bought me last year for the holidays.  The eee isn’t a laptop replacement, but it does manage to out-douche the jackasses who take their Macbooks everywhere.  That makes it a winner in my book.

Busy for a few days.

Be back later with good news.

In anticipation of the start of the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing, the Chinese government preparing a Horrible Weather Control Device.  The machine, which emits a powerful racket that can be heard for miles around and is responsible for the extinction of a unique species of waterfowl, is powered by a type of coal notorious for its impurities and spews thick, creamy, ashen smoke into the air.  The Device creates powerful tornados in the countryside and suburbs of Beijing.  The gigantic windstorms will not only clear away the pre-existing pollution, but it will also blow the eye-wateringly acrid smoke from the Horrible Weather Control Device itself away from Beijing and allow it to settle over Seoul, S. Korea.

“We are very confident about the effectiveness of the Device,” said Mr. Li, an unidentified buddy of mine who is totally important in the Bureau of Horrible Weather Control Devices in the Chinese government. “We are going to ensure good air quality during the Games. And, well, S. Korea can suck my balls,” he said during our interview.  Mr. Li then proceeded to profane my heritage, bought another round and slipped off his barstool.  He remained on the floor until dawn.

Kayaking teams are reportedly excited by the heavy, toxic liquid waste generated by the Horrible Weather Control Device. “There’s, you know, drag on the craft as it sinks into water. The oil slicks from the Device really help give you that edge,” said German kayaker Dieter Rakendorff.  I asked him if the chunky, semi-solid waste that floated like buoys in the water would present any obstacles.  “Well, if you have a good eye, you can dip your oar right against one of the chunky pieces of the water and really give yourself a boost,” he said.  “Of course, if you hit one at the wrong angle you go right into the water and then you’ve got cancer, but hey, the Olympics are about risk.”

I tried to contact the sprinters but I couldn’t get past the switchboard operator at the Respiratory Clinic at the Olympic Village.