...And flubby Makes Seven

Five is a good number. There were five members in the Rat Pack; it took five hoods to knock over New York's Finest Taxi Service in The Usual Suspects; and five strippers covered in spicy mustard and table salt left my apartment this morning. "The Fab Five" has been used to describe everything from the greatest all-freshman squad in NCAA hoops history to the team of queers making over straight schlubs with poor grooming habits.


Five used to be the magic number of contributors here at Kissing Suzy, but holy crap is football season about to start, and we don't want to miss a damn thing that happens in the NFL. We want to leave no stone unturned, no joke untold. And we'd like to do it without losing our jobs, so we've added a couple of names to our roster.

Yes, look to the right of this screen and you will see some of the finest pseudonyms in the blogosphere: "Big Daddy Drew" is simple and forceful, a man both large virile; "Captain Caveman" claims a certain rank among club-wielding simpletons; "Monday Morning Punter" takes a tongue-in-cheek swipe at foolhardy columnists; "Unsilent Majority" talks the talk of swagger over the din; and "Footsteps Falco," regardless of its use in a shitty Keanu Reeves movie, sounds like a great private investigator. Christmas Ape? Well, I don't quite understand that one, but it's more than one word and sensibly capitalized in all the right places.

flubby is part of our name diversity program; we needed someone with a handle that didn't insinuate bravado or pundit-like self-righteousness, but who still wrote with bravado and pundit-like self-righteousness. Mission accomplished. Welcome, flubby.

And welcome, Seven. Who needs to be called the Fab Five when you can be the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World?


(I'm totally the Pyramids.)