Questions from Our Guest Blogger AndrewZRX

The winner of Zoom's auction, AndrewZRX, wrote me several days ago:

Greetings Mr. Dwarf,
It seems I have foolishly won an eBay auction for an ESI guest blog. I am new to the ESI experience and therefore require some guidance. What have I actually won? (Do I even want to know?)

Just to fill you in on some boring details about me:
[personal details about Andrew redacted in case he doesn't want to share them with all of you] I myself don't have a blog though I do write some.

Can you give me an idea of the kinds of readers who frequent the ESI blog, and what, if anything, I should be doing regarding this most unfortunate turn of events.

Thanks
Andrew

Yesterday, I replied:

Hello Andrew,

Please, my father is Mr. Dwarf, call me Fourth.

Sorry about the delay in replying. I often forget to check my email.

You've won the opportunity to do a posting on our blog. http://elginstreet.blogspot.com/

We consider ourselves to be a metablog - a blog about blogs, but we also have postings on anything that tickles our fancy.

I'm not sure about what kind of readers we have. Perhaps I can give you a better answer tomorrow.

- 4D

If any of you have thoughts on what I might tell young Andrew, please leave a comment to this posting. The matter was also discussed at an Emergency Meeting largely held to address this topic and I believe Aggie will be posting the minutes any moment now. [After the beating I took for answering the meme all by myself, I don't dare answer Andrew's question on my own initiative.]

Google Poem: Okay, maybe I am

I'm not harassing you, I'm responding to your repeated continuations of this conversation.

I'm not harassing you, I just asked you to give me a smile.

I'm not harassing you, I'm spamming you!

I'm not harassing you, I'm doing my job.

I'm not harassing you. I actually want to love you.

I'm not harassing you I was just interested.

I'm not harassing you, I am asking legitimate questions.

I'm not harassing you, I'm just talking to you.

I'm not harassing you. I'm tormenting you.

I'm not harassing you. I'm just telling you.

I’m not harassing you. I’m making an aside on the typical use of Romans 9.

I’m not harassing you. I’m saying to you, that we pay you almost $60000 a year.

I'm not harassing you. I simply asked you to elaborate on a claim you made in your post that is relevant to the topic.

[*]

Introducing Mumumelon

Okay, the business pages these past months have been full of stories about Canadian sportswear manufacturer/marketing powerhouse/success story Lululemon™: Lululemon™ founder sells out for a gazillion bux! Lululemon™ goes public with a monster IPO! And just yesterday: LuluLemon™ snags a former Starbux™ CFO for its board! Omigawd!

Lululemon™ purveys yoga wear featuring built-in "butt bras". These are purported to make any woman's ass look great. No, great!

Quibbles re: jawdropping prices, and non-yogis wearing the ultra-casual gear in inappropriate business & formal situations are summarily thrust aside by acolytes worshipping at the lululemon™ altar, because their asses look great. No, great!

There are, of course, flies in the lemonade. There always are. The trademark completely-synthetic nylon-spandex pants themselves are said to be prone to pilling faster than cheap 70s leisure suits. Hey, they're synthetic. The fashion police are starting to realize that fashion-impaired teens are stuffing themselves into low-rise lululemons™ five sizes too small, for that winsome plumbers' butt look. And (gasp!) obese people are buying and wearing lululemon™ stuff hoping the pants will whittle 10-odd cheeseburgers from their thighs. These poseurs are driving the brand's cachet downmarket. Unlike, say, all the poseurs I see every day, running around downtown, dressed in lululemons™ and carrying yoga mats™, but for some reason never actually attending any actual yoga™ classes.

But anytime life hands you a sackful of bagged-out, overstretched lululemons™, hey, it's a chance to make us some lemonade. I'm pretty sure no less an authority than Ann Landers herself said it.

So here's the scam: Aggie is becoming a crafter. Who sews quilts. Who is buying a sewing machine. Who can teach the ESIs to sew in conditions that, when we get up to speed, will echo East Asian sweatshops. All perfect for crafting stylish mu'umu'us. Ya heard it here first: Mumumelon™!!!!: exercise wear for all the people who shouldn't wear lululemon™. Given North American obesity rates, I'm pretty sure our target market ain't trivial. We are so going to make a killin'....

Muumuu Cam

The Seven Things Chain Letter

Megan, whom we normally like, fucking tagged us. So we're supposed to do a posting with seven random facts about us.

1. The Elgin Street Irregulars are six actual human beings and not one disturbed individual pretending to be different people.
2. Coyote has been reminded by 4D at least once that he is an actual human being and not a literal coyote.
3. Agatha once decided to write postings profiling each of the ESIs but only wrote one for the Chair.
4. The other ESIs have all acted like they are okay with this, but we probably all wonder why she didn't write that one profile about us instead.
5. There is no fifth random fact about the ESIs.
6. The "no fifth" running gag began when some of the ESIs decided to start using "fifth" and "muse" in their postings so that the Fifth Muse might find us if she did a vanity google.
7. The Fourth Dwarf likes to think he would be Doc, but is far more often compared to Grumpy.

Now, we get to tag others. Any nominations?

Why we love Elgin Street

Back in the heady leadup to the 'we-can-do-anything' days of Expo '67, Canadians heard a lot of talk about the cultural mosaic. No mundane melting pots for us. No sirree. Mutual respect among distinct, yet cooperative, ethnic groups was the societal agenda.

Sadly, that interesting multicultural ideal seemed to be mostly burnt up in a consumeristic hell of 80s yuppiedom. A year into the new millenium, its ashes were pretty well stomped into the mud in a spate of ethnic-profiling paranoia over terrorism.

Pretty well. But here on Elgin Street, if ya want poly-ethnic, we got it. In spades. Up the wazoo. We gotta publog this place the Dwarf spotted, when he was out airing his aspidistra the other day. Whether they serve draught ale or not.

(Oh. And for the uninitiated among our international readers, 'poutine' is a heart-stopping Québécois confection of fresh julienned potatoes, twice french-fried in peanut oil for extra crispiness, salted, covered in fresh cheddar cheese curds, then doused in lashings of hot canned gravy to create the kind of gooey gourmet goodness that only a philistine could reject. Extra salt and ketchup right there on the table beside ya, if ya want 'em....)