Spam, anyone?

Will someone please tell me what the spammers are getting when they leave comments on blogs? I am quite curious, because I just don't understand why various users leave comments that say helpful things like, "Use a book as a bee does flowers," followed by an ominous-looking link. (It looks like this, in link form: .......................) Normally I would gladly click on the link, just to find out what in the world that comment even means. (Use a book as a bee does flowers? I get what they're trying to say, but it just isn't working for me.) But, in this case, I'm too afraid that I'll stumble upon something that might burn my retinas. Old men doing straddle stretches in speedos, anyone?

Even better are the comments with nothing but Asian characters and that same ominous-looking link. Like anyone's going to be fooled with your trickery, Asian Spammer. (What would you call an Asian Spammer, anyway? A Spamming Asian? A Spasian?) It's not like I'm going to see your comment and say, "Ooh! It must be my long lost friend from Japan or Korea or China or whatever language that is. I should check in with them!"

Nope. Not fooled.

So remember, everyone: Use Spam as a person would use meat. ...........................

Peace out, my dears. I'm off to Disneyworld, and then the beach. SUCKAS!! Mwahahahahaha! *During her fit of evil laughing, Jules chokes and coughs. She gets her comeuppance.*

What Master's Would Best Complement My BS?

I've decided lately that I love too many things, and some of these things that I love aren't necessarily helpful in the real world.

And, no, I'm not talking about Bluebell (for once). Bluebell is on the list of things that are just downright dangerous for me.

I'm talking about my hobbies and interests. Like...the vast collection of movie quotes that is sealed inside my brain. This is helpful in Scene It, perhaps, but not so useful in real-world application. I'm pretty sure employers don't regularly say, "Please list as many movie quotes as possible from memory." (They should start doing that.)

Even my music skills aren't very helpful in the real world. "Real world", in this case, means "money-paying world". On a scale from 1 to Helpful, I'll rate my music skills at a 3. (And, yes, I realize that rating system makes no sense.)

Hence, my present dilemma. I'm searching for Master's programs, and I keep getting attracted to programs that are COMPLETELY impractical, but I see them and my CrEaTiVe side says, "Hot diggity!" And then my timid, sensible side says, "BAD JULES! DOWN, GIRL!" So, Miss CrEaTiVe looks at another one and says, "Yes yes yes yes." And Miss KillJoy says, "Nuh uh."

*Heavy sigh*

Part of me would love to get something a little more on the practical side, seeing as how my undergrad degree is in music, but I'm not really qualified for anything...seeing as how my undergrad degree is in music. See the problem? And I really detest the idea of getting a master's in education. Seriously. My nose crinkles up at the very thought of such a horrific experience.

Any grad school oficionados have advice for me? I don't even know where to get started. I guess I should take that darn GRE, but most of the programs in the musical field don't require GREs. (By the way, I think they should change the acronym so it spells ERG instead. I think that would be more fitting for such a test:
Person 1: "I've gotta take the ERG. ERG!"
Person 2: "I heard you the first time. You didn't have to repeat yourself."
Person 1: "The second time I said it I was using it as a curse word."
Person 2: "Ah.")

HELP!

Are any of you still reading this? Anyone?

*Crickets Chirp*

The secret ingredient in Bluebell is love, after all.

There comes a time in every girl's life when she must decide--

Do I want to get rid of my love handles, or do I want more Bluebell?

I think you can probably guess my choice.

Anyone for some Homemade Vanilla with Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough? Yeah? Well, get your own!

NOM NOM.

Armpit of America

Dear Albuquerque,

For a long time now, I have not been kind to you. Behind your back, I often refer to you as "The Armpit of America". You may be wondering what you have done to cause me to dislike you so much. Well, I don't like to bring up old wounds, but do you remember that one time when I spent my New Year's Eve in one of your roach motels and two people were murdered there? Yeah, that didn't sit so well with me.

But, let's not dwell on the past. The reason I'm writing to you is because I want to apologize for all of the mean things I've said. To my great surprise, I enjoyed the time I spent with you this trip. Keep it up, Albuquerque.

Sincerely,

Julianna

P.S. The new recipient of the Armpit of America award is Vaughn, New Mexico.
P.P.S. I still think we should give New Mexico back to Old Mexico.