When I started this blog, I made a promise to myself that I would update it daily. Sadly, daily became weekly and — wouldn’tcha know it — weekly turned into monthly. Actual work, family commitments and pure sloth take precedence. Trying to adhere to this grueling monthly schedule, I sat down at the the laptop, cracked the typin’ knuckles and proceeded to type…nothing. Yet, while I can’t come up with even a paragraph of cohesive thoughts on any subject, I do have a bunch of silly, random questions rattling about my head.

How does my phone get so phoul? Why, when I let my kids play with my phone for 5 minutes, is it usually returned in a condition akin to having spent a week crammed down a hobo’s tighty whities? I’d like to think my kids are fairly hygienic, but my grubby handset tells a different tale. I know we all shake our heads at the parents that bestow phones upon kids that are way too young, but now I’m understanding the impetus. For now, I’m just gonna issue a pair of latex gloves every time they get the itch to play Temple Run II.

Would a normally functioning adult do this? I’ve found a secret use for socks. Forget about tramping to the kitchen, getting a paper towel, then dropping to your knees to wipe up small water spiils. Simply wipe your socked foot across the spill and get on with your day. A slightly damp sock is a small price to pay for all the effort saved. If by some chance this seems a little juvenile to you, just stop reading with your perfect eyes, withdraw into your perfect world and go about your perfect day.

When will this “inviting famous people to events” phenomenon end? All right, it was cute when Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis each went to the Marine Corps Ball a couple years ago. They were fulfilling the dreams of recently-returned service members, they looked great doing it, and the press…well, some members had to be defibrillated. But it’s now turned into a thing, and an annoying one at that. Last year there was a YouTube prom invitation campaign for Minnesota Timberwolves point guard Ricky Rubio. A kid with cancer invited Taylor Swift to his big night. Some girl mounted a movement to get American Idol’s Scotty McCreery to hit the dance floor with her. Yeesh (incidentally, the girl is stricken with a pain disorder and said, “I haven’t been able to have a normal high school life.” And inviting a quasi-celebrity to your prom would somehow shift the needle to “normal” status?!). This year some dweeb in LA had the nerve to ask swimsuit model Kate Upton via YouTube. When she wisely declined, he moved on to another swimsuit model, Nina Agdal. Apparently not minding the fact that she was this guy’s second choice, she agreed. Basketball Wives star Evelyn Lozada made some Michigan kid’s dreams come true last week (literally- the dress was, um, revealing). I know this whole thing speaks to social media breaking down barriers between celebs and their adoring fans. But, aside from the fact that these stunts just aren’t original anymore, it speaks to our made-for-TV culture that just laps up crap like this. They’re disguised as feel-good stories, but it’s people using each other, plain and simple. Some high schooler gets to bask in national adulation for a few days, celebrities get some positive press (or, in Lozada’s case, extend her 15 minutes), and the media gets to shove this fluff at us because hey, we all need a heartwarming story these days, right? I get that many of these kids are ill or socially awkward, but this reinforces the idea that retreating into social media is a good thing. Wouldn’t these kids have been better served spending their time trying to forge relationships with their peers? Yes, a swimsuit model may hang out with them for a few hours, but she’ll leave, the media will move on oh-so-quickly and the prom will have turned into a circus. For too many of these kids, it seems like a flashy grab for what appears to be the most valuable of American commodities: fame. And if I seem a bit too impassioned by this subject, it does hit close to home. If only Rue McLanahan had bothered to answer even one of a certain teenager’s letters 20 years ago…