Tonight, I have spent several hours watching MTV’s sister station. I refer to MTV2, the sister whose tits aren’t quite as big or perky but she more than makes up for them with style and class, as opposed to VH1, the older, fatter sister who sits around talking on the phone all day and whose friends speak in hushed tones of their worries that she will never marry.

This weekend, MTV2 has decided that it is going to show several hundred videos in the order of their beats per minute. This means that the songs start very slow, and at the end of the rotation, the songs are going very fast. They actually showed several songs per BPM count, with the count ticking up a notch every forty-five minutes or so. It was interesting to see the wide variety of songs that could be the same BPM: some hip-hop thing, some generic ’80s song, two Moby songs in a row! Just incredible. The tragedy here is that when they get around to the really fast songs, I will be at work and thus unable to engage in a dance marathon.

Which is not to say, of course, that I haven’t had my share of dance marathons recently. Just last night I experienced a fairly intense dance mania. It was non-MTV2 related, so I served as my own DJ, flipping back and forth between CDs as the urge struck me, dancing around to a song until it bored me and then switching to something else. Such events are not uncommon in my apartment, although this one was a bit longer than usual.

Generally speaking, the longer such a marathon goes, the more my cat becomes concerned for both my well-being and his own. His concern manifests itself in the form of loud mewling and impressive vertical leaps at my head. Unfortunately, last night, I decided to try to calm him down by picking him up and cradling him in my loving arms. In any other case his violent kitty emotions would have been soothed by such a measure, but you can see last night’s results for yourself:

I now have a big freaky scar on my arm. But these are the sacrifies one must make…

…in pursuit of the dance.