I’m sorry to tell you this, but it is time once again for The Bonfire of the Vanities, brought to you this week by Wizbang (”banging wizzes since 2003″) and Sean Gleeson.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Bonfire, it is a weekly carnival of posts submitted by bloggers. But unlike those other carnivals you may have seen which assemble well written essays and poetry and whatnot, the Bonfire is a round-up of that week’s very worst posts. Some of them are truly awful.

Go ahead, have a look at Beth’s post. Sure, she marked that link “NSFW” (Not Safe For Work), but I swear there should be a new acronym FTLOATIHDNCTL, meaning “For the love of all that is holy, do not click this link!” Maybe I’ll propose that standard at my next U.N. summit. (But I did like the Dave Barry column generator.)

Speaking of offensive, Jack Cluth has a sacrilegious toy. (FTLOATIHDNCTL)

You remember in The Thing, when this gooey monster took over everybody except Kurt Russell? Well, that’s what Don Surber is doing to the blogosphere, and if you aren’t panicked about it, then you already are Don Surber. Ferdinand, as Kurt Russell, has the details.

It seems that hazelnut farmers are having trouble selling hazelnuts because people prefer the taste of artificial hazelnut flavoring to the taste of hazelnuts. This, combined with the hazelnut growing cycle, results in this post by Starling Hunter.

Do you know a common three-letter word meaning “famous”? No, it’s not “big,” or “hot.” No, it’s not “ace,” or “top” either. Need another hint? It’s a common three-letter word that doesn’t mean “famous.” Oh, heck, just go tell aspiring puzzlemaster Bill Adams that you give up.

Digger finally got Farked, and now he’s telling his friends all about it.

Do you feel a little bit sorry for Cindy Sheehan? Neither does Sean (no relation) over at Shoot a Liberal. Maybe poor Cindy wouldn’t get picked on so much if she’d stay home. The moonbat rants in the comments to this post are almost as good as my robot’s (see sidebar).

Back in the old days, people thought aeroplanes and weblogs were “crazy inventions,” but now we can scarcely imagine life without them. Nonetheless, Spirit Fingers irreverently japes at the kissing condom, the wearable hamster cage, and the buttocks kicker.

A young lady who calls herself “Alabama,” but who is most likely Don Surber, holds court on the topic of link whoring. She has a pink typewriter.

Peakah just bagged his 10,000th visitor, and wants to celebrate with venison jerky.

Joy-Ann Reid has a post about celebrities. Something about Mariah Carey, Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, 50 Cent, Michael Jackson, and something called “T.O.” It seems that these individuals are tacky.

Did you know that herring communicate by means of underwater farts? Did you want to know that? Sorry, it’s too late. Thanks, Josh.

Skwib has a cartoon of a little Chinese man being launched from a trebuchet.

Elisson had a Thanksgiving dinner, and blogged about it. No, really, just a long post about all the food he ate. Not even links to the recipes or anything.

Dwayne blogged about his dinner, too, but with photos and instructions for preparing Oklahoma trash-can turkey.

The Assimilated Negro thinks he’s dating Kate Moss, or something. Maybe he’s suffering from the same malady as Suzi Chen, who can’t remember the names of people she really knows, so she calls them by the names of the pop culture celebrities whose attributes they share. (That explains why she kept calling me “Arnold.”)

Suzi will be hosting Bonfire number 127 next week at Special Fried Rice. Good luck, Suzi! And thanks as always to Kevin Aylward at Wizbang for this opportunity to sample the worst of the best of the blogosphere.