"That's right, it burns... 'Cause you're wicked!"

The Rock is on Conan right now, talking about how he noticed in publicity shots of him winning a championship belt that his ball popped out. That's friggin' hilarious.

Earlier this evening, Leviathan, Grantasm and myself were trying to open up a private chat room so we could chew the fat. Of course, I was put in charge of this, since I am the only one of the three of us running Trillian. And in Trillian (not sure if this applies to AIM as well), you can, space and allowable characters willing, name your chat whatever the hell you want. So, I decided to name our chat room "Chat, Bitches!" (without the punctuation marks).

Little did we know, upon entering "Chat Bitches," that the name was already taken. And there were already people in it. About six or seven. And they all seemed to be pre-teen girls with screen names that essentially bastardized anything and everything in the English language.

Knowing me and my stickler sensibilities regarding grammar and spelling, you know my eyes started to bleed just a little.

Of course, these kids were none too pleased that someone else invaded their chat space. After a number of "What the fuck?"s "Wutever"s, and "Who the hell are you?"s, we got out of that room into our own. But it was fun just sitting there, not saying anything while 69MrsChadMichaelMurray91 and her ilk got more and more perturbed at our presence. Squatter's rights, bitches!

Now, I'm going to take Conan's musical advice to Brittany Snow: "Button up your overcoat when the wind blows free!"

Nah, I'm just going to bed.