Greetings. I would say, "Hello," but I don't feel I know any of you that well. You're all probably closet racists and pedophiles, anyway, and so I shouldn't really care how you feel about such a formal greeting as "Greetings." In fact, you are probably worthy only of perusing the schlock that passes for facebook pages and ABC News blog-splatterings, comments from disastrous excuses for membership in the overhyped and underfunded species commonly known by government scientists as Homo sapiens. Do not be discouraged, Teabagging quislings, for you shall imbibe the terrible, squeezed-out juices and tannins and exotic caffeines of my tirades soon enough (I believe the metaphor has been itself terribly squeezed out, but take the point, if you dare).
Also, I would like to extend my condolences to Whitney Houston's lawyers and to everyone who shall now and forevermore be subjected to the squealing replacement notes from Jennifer Hudson. It is a sad day for us all, including Homo sapiens. May we all recover from this day of penultimate tragedy. And also (sorry for the redundancy), as a word of warning, large doses of Xanax and hot baths do not mix. One would have thought Whitney would have known that from her long-time romance with Bobby Brown's dope.