Hi gang. Here’s yet another one of those apropos of nothing moments…
Last fall, for no discernible purpose whatsoever, I registered the domain name “bigbootytime.net”. It was one of those random, silly spur-of-the-moment… moments. A coworker had come in one morning, sat down at his desk, and rather randomly said “Big Booty Time dot net…” Whether it was a capricious statement of existential ennui, or a sudden burst of post-modern debilitation in a time of international comme ci comme ça, that’s not my call. He doesn’t even work here anymore.
Well… I liked the cut of that statement’s jib. It rang true with me, in a moment of total cathartic illumination. Nine dollars and 30 seconds later, I was the proud owner of a brand-new domain name. BigBootyTime.net was now in my possession. Mine. All mine. Buyer’s regret? Almost immediately. But it made for a fine conversation piece, like a piece of the Edmund Fitzgerald or a shark bite on your solar plexus.
But what am I actually planning on doing with BigBootyTime.Net? Absolutely nothing. It goes nowhere. Check it out for yourself, and say hello to all the fine people at Omnis, who host the site you’re now visiting. I was thinking about having that address forward automatically here, so I could get an accurate headcount of who was actually out searching for big booty times, and how many of them would go on to read my music reviews or race recaps or just check out the fine pics on my Top Gun page. I know you’re out there guys. Love you all.
So I’m getting somewhere with this… the other day I finally received this particular piece of email:
Hi, I represent the owner of bootytime.com and they are interested in selling their domain.
I thought this would be a good fit for you and wondered if you would be interested in purchasing this domain? The price for bootytime.com is $3,000. Please let me know if you have further interest and I will be happy to help you.
Now, bootytime.com, in and of itself, is a solid domain name. There’s not a single person in the world, save for a handful of ENTIRELY too sheltered pirate enthusiasst, who would visit bootytime.com not knowing EXACTLY that they’re in for. I think we can all agree upon that particular statement, except for Sammy Leibowitz, aka “Captain Flank Thistlebone”.
But it is nowhere NEAR as catchy as Big Booty Time (dot) net. Say both out loud to yourself right now. I’m right, right? Bootytime.com comes across a skeevy perv creepazoid hangout behind a Circle K, whereas BIG BOOTY TIME (dot) net sounds like a buttkickin’ killer ultra block party that EVERYONE is invited to, except for Captain Flank Thistlebone, and who really wants him there anyhow?
Domain parking is so 1998. But I think I’m on to something here. As such, I am hereby announcing that BigBootyTime.net is now up for bidding. OR you can have it for $3,000, or you can take me out for Skee-Ball and ice cream on a Sunday afternoon sometime. If you choose the latter, you have to explain exactly why… TO EVERYBODY!
I obviously had NO material today. Is it that obvious? Here’s the video…