It’s the end of the [...] as we knew it

I was about to write this post about Miguelito, and how in the short space of two years we’ve gone from Daddy Yankee backed up by girls singing “dáme mas gasolina” to an eight year old singing like this:

And I was going to include a little quote from hubby D, expressed while we were watching that vid: “I really don’t know what it is about Latin culture, we can’t do anything without scantily clad women in the background.”

But that was all totally displaced by finding out that there was a poo huffing story on Salon! For those of you who were not at the pub with me last night, let me fill you in: the peeps at the pub just could not stop talking about said huffing habits, and I could not believe they were for real, I refused to talk to them, I tried to start conversations about homework rather than talk about that. Oh how innocent I was. Was it only a week ago I blanched at seeing a waterboarding video on The Countdown? Such, such were the joys!

So, if I look towards Miami tomorrow, and see a mushroom cloud, I’m just not going to be surprised. 8 year olds winning Grammy’s for Reggaeton with ghetto popping back up singers of legal age + poo huffing on my favorite web mag = THE APOCALYPSE.

UPDATE: Sometimes when my husband is on, he is really really on. Check out this beleagured 21st century thinking person’s money quote, brought on by watching The Soup’s Clip of the Week from America’s Most Smartest Model:

“You know, this whole not having to worry about where our food is coming from tomorrow thing hasn’t really raised the level of the discourse, has it?”

–D