That's pronounced "Best o' Me", by the way, and it's my idea for a new meme. There's all sorts of compilation memes for current content such as The Carnival of the Vanities and its offspring or Kate's Letter of the Day and Hunting of the Snark. We've even got LeeAnn's new Monday Madness and The Cheddar X that drive new content. But what is there for old stuff? Those really great posts from a couple of months or a year ago that new readers don't know about or that even regular readers would like to see again (if only they remembered)? Nuthin, that's what!
I despise cranberry sauce, most likely because of early childhood trauma caused by the cran gel. This year we had some homemade cranberry sauce made by Bear's pre-K class. Of course I had to try some as stuff like that is a requirement for maintaining my "A" average as a Dad.
Can you imagine my trepidation? A confirmed cranophobe having to taste cran sauce that was made by a class of 4 year olds? Oh, dear.
But it wasn't bad. In fact it was quite good. Really good. What a difference between homemade with real fruit and that gelatinous mass I have been exposed to for my first 34 years. I actually ate it and enjoyed it.
I have a strong suspicion that if we were still in Buffalo, Bear's class would not have made their own cranberry sauce. 2 more points for Georgia.
I've replaced the weblog description at the top of the main page with a random thought. This weblog defies description anyway.
If anybody is interested in the script for it, let me know.
Can you tell the difference between a Female and a Shemale?
I got 11 of 16 right. Makes me glad I'm married already. It's dangerous out there!
(Hat tip to Lovely Wife)
This Thanksgiving I am thankful for my Lovely Wife, my three evil (to various degrees) children, friends, family and The Cheddar X!
Kia wants a new definition for "Baby Boomer" and they're not afraid to petition for it. Why exactly do they want a new definition? To show that Baby Boomers are young at heart!
What?
The current definition at Miriam-Webster is a group of people born during a baby boom". Kia wants your help to change it to ... er ... well, we have no idea what they want to change it to. And they want your virtual signature saying that you want it changed to nothing in particular as well:
I agree that the dictionary definition of Baby Boomer needs to be changed! The current definition is "a group of people born during a baby boom." (Source: Merriam-Webster Dictionary)My signature on this petition does not mean that I accept the new definition of Baby Boomer that will be presented to a dictionary publisher, but that I agree the existing definition is not reflective of the youthful attitude of our generation and should be changed.
This has got to be the single most idiotic suck-up promotion I've ever encountered.
(Hat tip to Lovely Wife)
Women Needed to Test Orgasm Machine
No, really. An American surgeon who has patented a device that triggers an orgasm has begun a clinical trial approved by the Food and Drug Administration (news - web sites) in the United States and is looking for female volunteers.
Looking for volunteers? I would have thought he's be running from them. Dr Stuart Meloy thought that would be the case as well.
By "Leon" I of course mean the Carnival of the Vanities, which is hosted this week by Setting the World to Rights. Enjoy!
Two points to the first person to tell me what movie this post's title is quoted from.
Thanks to the Sexual Recovery Institute you can find out in the safety privacy of your own home. Separate tests for guys and gals.
Phew! I made it just under the wire!
(Hat tip to Lovely Wife)
These guys have their shit together a bit better than the ones I profiled yesterday. They evaluate toys for physical danger based on solid and static criteria instead of trying to quantify the "social" hazard of a gift. But they're a bit kooky too, as evidenced by these entries (emphasis mine):
Beth thinks I might be a nekkid blogger. On the advice of my lawyer I will neither confirm nor deny this. At least until the Bloggin' Nekkid club gets into swing.
Beth is collecting logos for the new club and there'll be a vote to see which one is used as the official one. My proposed logos are in the extended entry. One for the ladies and one for the gents. See if you can figure out which is which.
(Link credit to Dopple-G)
The Letter of the Day is was "L".
"L" is for Lingerie. Victoria's Secret lingerie commercials are getting hotter and hotter and Meryl found some guy who has a problem with that.
The Bonfire of the Vanities is up and ready for your viewing pleasure, all chock full of stuff that's so bad it's good.
No, I'm not talking about the infamous Singaporean animal masturbator, any of the worthies on WorstJob.com or even the guy who collects worms from cattle intestines. I'm talking about the poor S.O.B. who has to squeegee clean the holodecks on the Enterprise at the end of the day.
The Dirty Dozen list is out from The Lion & Lamb Project. These are the 12 toys that should be most avoided due to violent content. The list is predicated on the understanding that young children lack an ability to distinguish between reality and fantasy so they must be insulated from all conflict and violence. They go way too far but I can at least understand the objective here. There are a lot of violent toys targetted to kids and they are trying to raise awareness of that. The thing that groups like this continue to overlook with things like this blanket ban recommendation is that not all kids are the same and it is the responsibility of the parent/guardian to guide the individual child according to that child's development and mentality. As they consistently miss the point their message is just as consistently corrupted.
The thing that really blows me away with this group is the rationale they give for these specific toys. Let's take a gander at the most egregious ones:
A troll has climbed from under Kate's bridge. This particular beastie has been quiet since she laid the smack down. But quiet is not the same as dead so it's time for a troll hunt! The hunting party is already forming up with the huntress, master of hounds and other worthies joining the party.
Cry Havoc, and Let Slip the Dogs of War!
So, we're under a Severe Frost Warning tonight. Severe frost? Do they mean that it is an unusually serious and ill tempered frost? How does frost get bad enough to be called Severe? Are we going to open the paper tomorrow and read reports of 8 Confirmed Dead as Atlanta Struggles Against Severe Frost? It's frost! Not snow, hail or even freezing rain. Frost! Get over it!
And what classification comes after Severe? You know there has to be one. I mean, given the vagaries of weather there is eventually going to be a frost that makes this Severe Frost look kind and playful by comparison. Would it then be a Catastrophically Rude Frost? Perhaps it will be an Unbearably Frosty Frost? God forbid they call it an X-treme Frost.
It boggles the mind.
What's up with that? I don't know what kind of sticks there are in other necks of the woods but around these parts our sticks are pretty much the same length on either end. I mean, no matter which end you're grabbing, isn't it the same distance to the middle?
Click here to begin download. Give it a minute or so, it's a lot of data.
(Link kudos to Dopple-G)
LeeAnn is starting up a new meme called Monday Memory. She'll posit a question for people to answer. Sort of like the Coffee Talk lady did when she was getting viklempt(sp?). The first question is What Thanksgiving dinner is your family still talking about?"
Well, I don't have too many specific memories of Thanksgivings with one exception. I was spending Thanksgiving in New York with my Dad (parents divorced, Mom in Ocean City, Dad in Buffalo). Thanksgiving was at Uncle Jim's farm in Springville. That's rural country with long, long roads and many miles between anything you'd bother to look at. People drive fast. Very fast. (By the way, that's one of the two uncles I'm named after.)
Everybody, this is Lovely Wife. Lovely Wife, this is everybody.
I finally exposed myself to her over the weekend. No, not that way - I do that on a hourly regular basis. I mean I finally gave up on trying to get the blog exactly the way I wanted it before inviting her in. Being anal retentive as I am I realized that I could be facing retirement before I actually get it "just right". And besides, if I can't show some warts to my wife who can I show them to? And more importantly, would that person pay me anything for a wart showing?
Anyway, she loves the blog and my near godliness has been reinforced in her eyes. Hopefully she'll be a regular reader and commenter. Who knows? Maybe I'll even get her to start her own weblog eventually.
Everyboy say "hi" now and welcome my sweet baby to the wide world of weblogging.
Madfish Willie's is starting a "send me your posts" LinkLoveFest!
Tales From The Champagne Room! [Remember: There is no sex in The Champagne Room!]
Read through the previous posts of The Champagne Room to get an idea of what he's looking for.
To be linked in The Champagne Room post just e-mail the link(s) to your post(s) by Saturday 12:00 noon and you'll be included in the weekly LinkLoveFest on Sunday.
Made one last change for the collapsable lists, hopefully they'll work for Mozillans now. If not, I haven't a clue where else to go with them. But the links are still there for them, they just don't get them nice and tight and collapsed, so I'm going to keep them either way.
Speaking of collapsable lists, I've moved "Best of" to a collapsed list and expanded it with entries from other categories. There's only one recipe post right now but there will be more. And of course there is only one Bageldonut and so long as we stay in God's good graces there shall never be another.
I had to get rid of that graphic for the Guest Map. Any time I saw this site it was there flashing at me. I despise animated graphics on web sites. Flash is good. Animated gifs blow. So now it's just a link and will get less attention but oh well, such is life. I'd rather have less people sign it and have it not annoy me than vice versa.
The Recent Posts section was removed as well. It only duplicates the posts on the front page and last time I asked nobody admitted to using it. Clutter. Gone.
And I finally added Survivor to the sidebar. Woo Hoo! It was my intent from the beginning of the game but I am horribly, horribly lazy.
My wishlist is linked too. Not that I'm expecting loads of presents but this way you can check out the wierdness that is on my list to Santa.
Last but not least, the Ecosystem doohicky is there too. Don't know if I'll keep that or not but I figured I'd give it a shot. I don't like the way it shows up on multilines unnecessarily. Anybody know a way to get that so it's just a regular line of text instead of 4 lines?
Could all y'all Mozilla users let me know if the collapsable lists in my sidebar are working now? That's the stuff under the "Linkage" section.
Thanks!
Everybody wave goodbye to Jeff as he doggy paddles away from Survivor Blogosphere Island. Jeff was the second elimination in our little blog game and once again the vote was unanimous (excepting Jeff's vote as he voted to kick me off -the jerk).
Though he's off of the island he should have some consolation that he's at least done his part in helping me to my ultimate victory.
And to my island ladies: Please note that 100% of the people who have voted to kick me off of the island are no longer with us. Remember this when contemplating future votes.
What? You need more of a description than that? Okay, how about "Dancing purple sumo hippo? Just watch it. You won't be disappointed. Unless you've got sumodansohippophobia or something.
(Hat tip to Dopple-G)
But wait! That's not how much it costs, it's how much Joseph Tomaino (aka Rod Stiffenpants) was supposed to be awarded when he sued The Male Sexual Dysfunction Institute for giving him that 72 hour stiffy.
FREEHOLD, N.J. - A man who had to endure a three-day erection after penile surgery was awarded $3 million by a jury two years ago...
[Sigh] I used to live in Freehold. Why is it that everywhere I lived there are kooks in the news? Terrorists in Lackawana (Buffalo), Berkley is freak central, Cubs in Chicago. It's like all of the places I leave are cursed. Anyway...
...but an appeals court ordered a Monmouth County judge to lower the award.
Sanity! Thank you, appeals court! But wait, there's more.
So Superior Court Judge Alexander Lehrer did — by one penny.
Hah, hah, hah. Good one, Lehrer! I bet the appeals court was quite amused.
In a decision written this week, the appeals panel reversed the judgment and sent the case back with orders for another judge to reduce the award, citing Lehrer's "demonstrated unwillingness to comply with our instructions."
Ever been bitch slapped by the appeals court before, Alex?
The appeals court had ordered Lehrer, who presided over the trial, to cut the $3 million, saying the size of the award "shocked the court's conscience"
Shocked the hell out of my concience too. The news story gets confusing at this point as it is intimated that the 3 day flagpole wasn't the problem - the guy is impotent for life. But, didn't he go to this place because he was impotent? As far as I can figure using this lowsy reporting job, Tomaino couldn't get it up so he went for help. They fixed him enough to give his girlfriend 3 days of heaven but then he couldn't get it up again. So he sues and gets $3 million?
I hope I'm seriously misreading this.
I almost spewed when I read that misheard Beatles lyric this morning.
So what is "colitas" anyway? As in "Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air" from Hotel California? Like Dopple-G, I had always thought it was a desert flower of some kind. The Straight Dope gives us the answer in hillarious fashion. To cut to the chase, it's herb (the fun to smoke variety) and the Hotel California is a metaphor for cocaine addiction. But definitely read the Straight Dope - it's a side splitter.
I usually have a lot going on but only part of my brain engaged on whatever I'm doing. My stream of conciousness has a lot of creeks branching off. Now Dopple-G is another story. Instead of a stream of conciousness he has a white water rapids. But I digress.
To make sure that I don't forget any of these thought streams before I've had a chance to explore them I leave myself notes. I have a post-it note dispenser on my desk at home. At work I have a steno pad. There's a dry erase board on my refrigerator. I've got an Ideas.txt file on my desktop. I leave notes all over, like rabbit droppings. Hey, good analogy there - we'll call them "thought nuggets".
The dry erase board gave me a pause this morning. I haven't cleaned the ideas off of it in a while so it has accumulated a little pile of nuggets. I had also used it to put down some recipe parts while I was cooking. The end result is peculiar to say the least:
Solar powered kids
325 degrees
10 to 12 minutes
If they aren't screaming, you're not doing it right.
Sounds like a recipe out of The Hansel & Grettle Cookbook. I better get that cleared off before Mom flies down. Sheesh.
Munuviana is well represented in the first competition for the coveted title of King of the Blogs. Madfish Willie is on the judging panel and Anger Management is one of the first crop of contestants. Don made it just under the wire as contestant blogs need to be smaller than a Large Mammal in the TTLB Ecosystem.
Good luck Don!
The first entries are already up. Check em out here.
Cheddar X, that is. It's a Cheesy Movie Friday (in the extended post).
More importantly, how many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop? Or how about a question that can actually be answered: How much is inside a bottle of magic shell? The world may never know the answer to the Tootsie Pop question but the folks at Cockeyed do a good job of takling the Magic Shell one.
Simply put, magic shell is awesome. It is ACTION FOOD! It forms a hard shell when put on top of ice cream, which protects it from burrowing insects and mites. It is the perfect way to make ice cream more fun & your classmates jealous.
(Link credit to Curt)
The Letter of the Day is was "K".
"K" is for klutz. Our favorite klutz has been out of commission for a week. Everybody go pester her until she comes back.
...Helen. She's won immunity in the second round of Survivor: Blogosphere Edition. Now the five of us will vote off one of our number (excepting Helen, of course) bringing us ever closer to my eventual triumph.
Anybody want to buy my vote? I come cheap!
Don't you think that somewhere in the design and manufacturing process, someone who had a finger on this from the original conceptual artist to the engineers to the mold crafters to the manufacturer to the last guy who tightened a screw, somebody would have caught enough of a clue to step back and say "What the FUCK!?"
Buggre Alle This is in my daily reads now. I've been checking out Joey's blog since it showed up in my referral logs a couple days ago but this post earns an instant slot in the sidebar.
How in the world does a car like this get built? Did the design team meet and decide that the criteria would be:
- Too small to use as an SUV. No, make that too small to use as a vehicle pretty much period.
- As absolutely dangerous as possible. (Yeah, we can combine a high center of gravity with plastic sidewalls! Yeah, yeah! We'll call them "dent resistant" or something. Sweet!)
- Uglier than an Aztec.
It's like the unholy offspring of a Mini Cooper and a Suzuki Samurai.
Mr. Rhodes is on the road today but he left a present: The Long Distance Lesbian. What an amazing little story. Join Ryan as he embarks on a long distance relationship that gets peeled like an onion layer by layer until the rotted heart is revealed. Very touching and very well written.
The Letter of the Day is was "J".
"J" is for Jewsylvania. In a response to letter from an Egyptian reader, Meryl ponders if a different name might have helped to get the concept of a culturally Jewish state accepted.
Judaism is a religion, yes. But Jews are also a people, a culture. It's the most difficult part of trying to get others to understand what being Jewish entails. I can be an atheist and still be Jewish. Some people say I can convert to Christianity and still be Jewish. (At the very least, I was still born a Jew.) Perhaps if we never called ourselves Jews to begin with, if we had called ourselves Israeli for the past several thousand years, or perhaps if we called Israel "Jewland" or "Jewsylvania" or something like that, people would get that you can be a Jew and not be religious. Egyptians are mostly Muslim, but many are Christian, too. And while we're on that topic: How many practicing Jews do you know of in Egypt? Did you know that it is illegal to practice anything but Islam in Saudi Arabia? When was the last new church built in Egypt? Did you know the laws there forbid a church to be built within a certain distance of a mosque, or if the locals object to it, or if the government decides that there aren't enough Christians to support the building of a new church? Go ahead, try to get a new church built in Cairo.
It's a well written letter and a very well written and elucidating response. Go read and enjoy.
Time to vote for the second immunity challenge in Blogosphere Survivor. Can you guess which one is mine this time?
Terry repositioned himself, angling for a clear view of the doorway. It wouldn't be long before his target walked through it. He checked the position of the setting sun. Yes, just a few minutes. About fifteen, to be precise.
Terry knew his target, Todd McCallum, almost better than he knew himself and he knew that tonight McCallum would be coming through that door alone. Months of study and preparation would be paid off tonight. The countless hours invested in studying his prey during the dark hours of the night would soon be redeemed. Tonight would be the night, he was sure of it. He settled down as flat as he could make himself and stared at the doorway through eager eyes.
Terry could have taken McCallum long ago if he had been free to act according to his own designs but there were so many rules that he had to follow. No witnesses. No evidence. It had to be done in this location. He had to strike from this position. So many damned rules but what was the use in complaining? It wasn't always easy being an M.U.B. but it would certainly be rewarding tonight, now that everything was coming together. He turned his head and checked the sun again. Ten minutes, give or take. He grinned ferally and ran his tongue over his lips. Oh, this was going to be sweet.
McCallum had established a pattern, something very dangerous for someone in his position. He had an escort every other night but for the past three weeks he'd been alone when he came through that door on Saturday evenings. Terry couldn't do anything at all when one of McCallum's bodyguards was present. That's why tonight's strike was so important. It wasn't like he'd be able to continue this hunt indefinitely. Eventually somebody was going to cop to his hiding place (the one mandated by the damned M.U.B. rules!) and then he would be up Shit Creek. He glanced at the sunset again. Any minute now. Any minute.
The Letter of the Day is was "I".
"I" is for Idea. The best ones are often the simplest.
Piss on 'em, Helen.
The news is in and it's not of the happy variety. Our Everyday Stranger has been cut in a round of layoffs by Company X. Go visit Helen and leave some love.
Makes me glad that I don't have a phone from a certain large Swedish telecomunications company.
Ilyka has a fantastic post that uncovers the grubs and worms crawling behind the protests of the international trade talks in Miami. Fithian? She's a worm. The New York Times? Definitely a grub.
The 61st edition of the Carnival of the Vanities is waiting for you over at Peaktalk. It's big. Spooky big.
I wonder how large this thing is going to be by the time I'm hosting it...
Then shame on you! We're just getting into the good stuff now. But still, there are other worthies out there that can complement our battle to the death.
Nick Queen over at Patriot Paradox is organizing a Blog Tournament. Currently the tourney needs both contestants and judges. This contest runs in a two week cycle so even if you don't get into the first edition it shouldn't be long before you're playing.
I wouldn't recommend playing in two contests at the same time, which is why I've volunteered to help with judging but won't be competing until after Dec 03. The rest of my island friends will have relatively shorter times to wait before being able to join the Patriot Paradox tournament without conflicts. Jeff, you can go ahead and sign up now.
The Bonfire of the Vanities is hot and ready. Stop by and warm yourself with the flaming rejects of the blogosphere.
I shall seek and find you...
I shall take you to bed and control you...
I will make you ache, shake and sweat until you grunt and groan...
I will make you beg for mercy...
I will exhaust you to the point that you will be relieved when I leave you...
You will be weak for days after I am gone.
I've just received word that Luuk, the Everyday Bear, has left the Peacock household and is on his way to his next Angry destination. Lovely Wife saw him off after giving him a quick Scotchguard treatment. (Hey, Don is his next stop. Safety first.)
We got a bunch more pictures of Luuk in the past couple days and I'll get those up as soon as I can.
I'm going to offend some people with this post. I'll probably get some hate mail and some harsh comments and may even lose some regular readers. That sucks but it's also the way of the world. If you have an opinion there are going to be people who disagree with it. If you can state it in an obsequious manner you'll probably do okay. People will line up to defend a timid speaker. Be nice, they'll say. He's wrong but it's because he's confused. Explain it to him in simple terms and you'll see that he's not truly evil. If, however, you happen to be the sort of person who states his opinion in a raw and coldhearted fashion then you'll piss off many folks. Even some who might ordinarily support your position. Can you guess which one I am? Let's begin:
Midgets Need To Get Their Heads Out of Their Asses
I saw a special presentation about an operation that little people(TM) can undergo in order to get taller. It involves implanting an external metal brace into the long bones of the legs. The bones are broken and separated. The bracing is then continuously lengthened. The healing process of the broken bones causes them to grow towards each other. As the gap of the break is consistently maintained the effect is a gradual lengthening of the legs.
It's painful. It takes a long time. It's good for only a couple of inches. There are many post-procedure problems including weakened bones, arthritis, bone and muscle pain. Sense of balance is seriously compromised and the patient is clumsy and awkward for quite some time.
One of the patients who was interviewed told of all of these problems but dismissed them as negligible. You see, he can now do things like drive an unmodified car. He can ride on a roller coaster. He uses the cupboards at his apartment. In fact his only regret about having the procedure is that he is now an outcast from his community. You see, those jokes on Seinfeld about little people(tm) "heightening" weren't jokes. It really is viewed as a serious breach of etiquette to wear tall shoes or otherwise compensate for (lack of) height. Having this operation makes a little person an outcast from the little person community.
This leads to an obvious question which I will direct to the little community at large:
How do you get such an oversized head so firmly implanted in your anal sphincter? Come the fuck on! It's a birth defect. It is not normal to be a midget/dwarf/little fellow. It is neither amoral or foolish for somebody with a birth defect to use devices and procedures to overcome that defect. Should somebody born with one arm forgo a prosthetic one? If I had a procedure that cured Downs Syndrome do you think that all of the Downs' afflicted out there would rally to attack a person who went through that procedure because they wanted to be normal?
YOU ARE NOT NORMAL. Get it through your skulls. I'm not saying that you should be ashamed of being small. I'm saying that you shouldn't be carrying around a chip on your vertically challenged shoulder because of it. It's a birth defect, a freak happening of nature, one of the more common of literally thousands of documented and understood genetic mishaps. It should not be either a badge of honor or a Sysephean burden.
If you have a chance to correct it then do so! And if you are so wrapped up in a communal pity party that you can't bear the thought of fixing what's wrong with you then at least have the fucking courtesy to support somebody with the courage to do so himself. The way that guy was treated, the exposure of the intollerance and antagonism in the little community, was sickening. He showed bravery and courage, going through a painful procedure in order to make his life better, already knowing that his friends would turn on him. He didn't deserve the way he was treated and to be quite frank those "friends" certainly didn't deserve him.
Fire away.
UPDATE: I wrote this quite a while ago and never posted it. Generally I try not to post things when I'm pissed about the subject. A decent rant is fine but when I'm very irritated I tend to get more insulting than descriptive so a "Jim is pissed" post generally won't do anything constructive. I figured that I would let it sit and revisit it, edit it in a calm voice and then post it. It ended up getting lost and forgotten until yesterday. I looked it over with the intent of editing out the more inflammatory insults and profanity but have decided to present it as-is instead. It's not as overwhelmingly antagonistic as I thought when I first wrote it and the anger the subject raised in me back then has been fairly well rekindled by rereading it.
The second challenge for Blog Survivor is to come up with a slogan that will appear on forthcoming Anger Management T-shirts. This is a delicious opportunity for a warped and evil person such as myself. Here's a couple I came up with off the top of my head:
- Sucking up to Frank J since January, 2003.
- Adventures with my objectionist mangina.
- Almost but not quite completely unlike a weblog.
Actually, that last one can go a lot of different ways. Sub out "a weblog" and insert "humor" or "entertainment". You see where I'm going here.
Oh, I feel like a kid in a candy store.
Kelley is wondering what stuff you believed as a kid that you can laugh about now.
I had a particularly voracious monster under the bed. It wasn't good enough to keep hands and feet away from the edge. All body parts had to be protected by the Blanket of Monster Repelling or it was all over. You had approximately 5 seconds to get covered (after jumping the last 3 feet into the bed) before he would attack. I didn't have a closet monster though. The bed monster probably ate him.
I had a stair monster too. The steps to the basement were open (no backs on the steps). If you were too slow getting up the stairs he would grab your ankles. One of the most terrifying moments of my childhood was when I was tearing ass up these stairs and slipped. I smashed my shin on the wooden step so hard that I couldn't even scream, it hurt so badly. I was stuck, unable to move, just waiting for the monster to grab me. Eventually I was able to crawl up to the landing where I sat huddled in a fetal position until I could stand up again. To this day I don't know what saved me back then. Either he was asleep on his watch or just assumed I'd trucked all the way up like I usually did. I'm sure that if I'd actually been able to cry at the pain he would have been alerted and then he would have got me.
What the hell is Buy Nothing Day? Apparently it's supposed to be some sort of statement against American consumerism. This is a participatory project (which strangely enough started in the Pacific Northwest, who woulda thunk it) for people who think that capitalism will be the doom of America.
Ummm...
Right.
Say that you're in a meeting with your team (programmers, production guy, product manager and boss). Further, say that you are sitting across from and just a bit over from the boss. Let's also say that she has one too many buttons undone on her blouse. And it's obvious she does not have a clue that said button is open. She's also got a lacy black little half bra thing going on and depending on which way she is facing and how she is sitting you can see nipple.
Do you stare? How openly? Is it bad if you do a jaw dropped open full-on ogle for several minutes, during which time you are aparently brain dead and slowly, one by one, the people in the meeting each realize that you are occularly linked to the boss's boobages? How bad is it when the boss herself realizes that you are visually molesting her and calls your name several times before you respond?
Finally, if at the completion of the meeting the boss stands up and it turns out that she was wearing some black leotard thing under her blouse and anything else that you thought you saw was just your own very overactive imagination, should that cancel out any asshole points that you've accumulated or does it simply mean that you are pathetic?
This is all just hypothetically speaking of course...
Nothing much coming from here today. I'm busier than a Bangkok whore with the 6th fleet in port. I'll give you a teaser though. Another short story is percolating through my gray matter. What will it be? Horror, Sci-Fi, Fantasy? Maybe some more porn? Find out tomorrow, or whenever it's finished brewing. The biggest problem with it right now is there are 3 endings and I can't pick which one I like best. Maybe I'll give you all three.
Oh, wait. I do have something quick to share. Captain Corelli's Mandolin was a decent movie destroyed by two things. The first was Nicolas Cage. Sorry, but he can never ever play a romantic lead. No matter what the character is supposed to portray you will never escape the image of Cage in Raising Arizona. And what was with that accent? He either got it from an intense one week session with a voice coach in the Bronx or from watching too many Olive Garden commercials. The second problem was the normally spectacular John Hurt who was almost but not quite completely unlike Roddy McDowell a Greek provincial doctor.
The Letter of the Day is was "H"
"H" is for Happy Medium. Not the "pleasant muse" type, we're talking the state you need to attain before you can successfully spend 3 hours in a car with somebody who has radically different musical taste.
Wander over to Venomous Kate's Snarkfest for the best of all things snarkish.
Oh what savage delight grips these unworthy bones at perusal of such delicious vitriol.
The Letter of the Day is "G".
"G" is for Gone. See ya, Pylorns!
Maybe censorship isn't all bad after all. My own encounter with it really brought out some great discussion and showed me that when push comes to shove there are people out there who'll stand up for me (at least when I'm right). That's so cool.
And it's given me something very precious. A link from Meryl Yourish!
Please note that anybody who attributes sarcasm to that exclamation will be virtually slapped upside the head by yours truly. Meryl's was the first blog I ever followed seriously. This was before I really even knew what the hell a blog was. She's been over in my "Daily Reads" since this blog's first incarnation as "Apropos of Nothing" (which nobody even knows about, that's how bad it was).
So getting a link from Meryl is very super cool to me. And to make it even better, she's in support of my position.
Thanks, Meryl!
So you don't believe in real magic? Well this will convince you. With my help you will now cast your very first real magic spell. Just do the following:
- Take a deep breath.
- Grab a pencil, pen, or other wand-like instrument.
- Wave your wand in front of your mouth in a counter-clockwise manner. Those of you with digital clocks just wiggle it a bit.
- Breath out! Jeeze. That was just a calming exercise, I didn't want you to hold your freakin' breath. Just breath normal, okay?
- Speak the following line three times. Each successive line must be louder than the one previous. That means that you say it once softly, once a bit louder and then again a bit louder still:
inflatus lingua nimium
Okay, all done. You've successfully cast your first spell. What? Don't believe me? You didn't notice anything? Oh, really...
How is your tongue feeling? Does it seem a bit...large? Sort of slipping across your teeth instead of sitting nicely inside the old toothline, isn't it? In fact, it now takes some considerable effort to keep that sucker in place, doesn't it? Oh, my hapless foil how you have fallen into my evil snare.
Bwah hah! Bwah hah hah! Bwah hah hah hah hah!
The votes are in for the first elimination from Survivor: Blogoshere Island. Happily I received not a single vote to toss me. Unhappily for Pylorns he received five of six and got booted.
Pylorns, don't look at it as getting tossed, look at it as winning the first vote by a landslide. If only you had voted for yourself it would have been unanimous.
Just in case that last post didn't gross you out enough I'm going to share something with you. Oh, come on. Why the long face? Y'all know that when I'm disgusted with something I share that disgusting thing with you. This increases the amount of disgust in the world thereby lowering my disgust level in relation to the world as a whole. Plus, Momma told me to always share.
DO NOT FART!
There is absolutely no guarantee that it is gas that you will pass. Immodium is your friend. No, more than that, it is your lifeline.
Given my abhorrence of the crappers here at work and my current state of being on antibiotics I am trapped in my own peculiar little hell. Any time I have the bowel urge I must assume that bad things are happening, no matter how much it feels like plain old gas. This means that any time I wish to feel gastric comfort I have to truck into the ol' shitter, whip out a paper ass gasget and alight upon the ceramic throne.
This is all because of the Paris Hilton gag, isn't it God?
Yes, the end of the week is here and that means it's time for The Cheddar X!
In the interest of saving space and keeping the Paris Hilton porn post as close to the top of the page as possible I've put the Cheddar in the extended entry.
If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? Well, since my stats are totally mucked up by hits looking for the Paris Hilton and whatsisname amateur porn extravaganza I figured I'd just go with it.
After an intense search which led to many, many, many sites with posts much like my previous one that did not contain any link to the video in question I finally found a site that not only has the entire thing but has it for free. The site is understandably busy so it loads slow but it's worth it. This is some of the best in your face (and elsewhere) camera work I've ever seen in a non budget night vision sex video.
What's more, they have a second Paris Hilton porn where she's having a threesome with Playboy playmate Nicole Lenz and former MTV VJ/actor Simon Rex.
There's a nice compilation of Shannen Doherty stuff there too.
Without further ado, here is the link you're all coming here for: www.parishiltonshagfest.com
Helen has a beautiful post this morning about a simple little thing that made a huge difference in her life.
I've got a similar story. After the worst breakup of my life I was in very sorry shape. I won't get into the gory details but it was so bad that Captain Responsibility (that's me) lost his license for driving drunk during this period. I started replacing food with alcohol and things were deteriorating rapidly. Get up in the morning, have a beer, go to work, come home, drink until sleep comes. Basically just plodding on though a semblance of my former life through inertia and not having any clue what else to do.
One day after work I flipped on the radio, grabbed a beer and sat down to start drinking. The song that was playing was "No woman no cry" by Bob Marley, a song I'd heard many, many times before but never really listened to. This time I heard it and listened to the lyrics, the drum, Bob's voice. I got it. Bob was telling me "Everything's gonna be alright". I dug through my CD's, got out Legend and played that song in a loop the rest of the night.
And I stopped drinking like an ass. I finished that open beer of course, I'm an alconomist after all. But I ordered a pizza for dinner instead of finishing off the case. I still remember that pizza, it was the fucking best tasting pizza I'd ever had in my life. First actual food I'd eaten in I don't know how long.
And I called my Mom. I basically hadn't spoken with anybody in weeks. They'd called but I'm an expert in avoidance. I also have a black belt in not-being-part-of-the-conversation-when-you-think-we-are-conversing-itsu. I hadn't spoken with Mom in even longer. I love her like you wouldn't believe but she's a nut and can be very trying to speak with. I'd been avoiding her for a while.
I called a bunch of other people too. My best friend E, who had been trying to get me out of the house for weeks. Made dinner arangements for later in the week with him. I called Doppel-G (he was down in Georgia by this time). I think he knew something wierd was going on but he didn't press, just talked about everyday stuff for a while. I think I even tried to call Lil Bro but I can't remember for sure.
After that night I put my life back together. Very quickly I might add so I guess I had caught it in time before I hit the big cusp. Basically all I had to do was get back into civilization, turn on the afterburners at work for a while to catch up and (most importantly) stop getting drunk every night.
Now whenever I hear that song and it gets to the "Everything's gonna be alright" part I get a tickle in the back of my throat, my eyes water and I have to fight hard not to cry. And sometimes, when I need it, I play that song and I don't fight the tears.
I've had over 2000 hits from people searching for that porn video of a certain hotel heiress. It's not here!
For all of you folks who came here looking for it - sorry you wasted your time. The closest thing I have is The Somnolence of Clouds. It has sex and nudity and there's even a certain amount of controversy over it. Go check it out. I'm sure you'll enjoy it.
Update: Over 7000 visitors looking for a porn video that isn't here. Gawd. Remind me never to comment on porn videos again.
Lousy day for this blog, sorry. The thing with my entry being held out of the Carnival had me up stewing much of the night and much of today was spent following up on the multiple conversation threads dealing with it. On the plus side the censorship controversy brought quite a few visitors to see the post, almost guaranteed that it was more than would have come just from it being in the Carnival.
Much thanks to all of the people who supported me and argued on my behalf. Especially Ilyka, who was like a rabid bull terrier today. I can't express how much I appreciate your help. :)
Tomorrow - good stuff. I promise.
I wasn't left out of the latest Carnival accidentally after all. I was straight out censored.
That was a personal call based on the nature of your post. I do apologize if you feel slighted, but it was just my preference not to add that one particular post.-Max
The post I submitted was The Somnolence of Clouds. This is my erotic vignette from a few days ago. It was well received in comments and email.
Do I feel slighted at being censored? Yeah, I do. It's pretty easy to just note that the post is erotic fiction in the Carnival description. That's the actual description I submitted it with, after all.
People who want to go there do so. People who don't, don't. Same as somebody sick of the metrosexual meme wouldn't go to Andrew's post based on the description that was put with his link.
Christianity is a thought crime. That's an okay topic. The Pussified Toit thing? Also okay. Bush, France, Iraq. All okay.
The only censored item is an erotic vignette. A piece of tittilating fiction. War, death, politics, sexuality, religion are all valid but my well written story is not.
I'm more than slighted. I'm pissed.
Seriously. She puts these evil thoughts into my brain and I am powerless to resist.
This travesty is to the tune of Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious of Mary Poppins fame. Yes, it's true. I have molested one of the world's favorite childrens' songs. Broken down, this version is cremasteric reflex it's a scrotomatic clenchin'. I'll sit quietly until the men in the white van get here.
For those who didn't see the comments referenced above, the Cremasteric Reflex is what causes a man's scrotum to contract when his inner thigh is stroked.
Cremastericreflexitsascrotomaticclenchin'!
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle me
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle me
Cremastericreflexitsascrotomaticclenchin'!
The pleasure that it gives your groin
Is simply beyond mention.
If you do it oft' enough you'll
Release all your tension.
Cremastericreflexitsascrotomaticclenchin''
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle me
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle meBecause I was a fraid to wank
When I was just a teen,
Me girlfriend gave my thigh a stroke
And showed me something keen.
Then one day I learned the word
For my new favorite trick.
The biggest word you've ever heard
For playing with your dick!Oh! Cremastericreflexitsascrotomaticclenchin'!
The pleasure that it gives your groin
Is simply beyond mention.
If you do it oft' enough you'll
Release all your tension.
Cremastericreflexitsascrotomaticclenchin''
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle me
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle meSo when you're with that special gal,
Or got some time alone,
Just stroke that inner thigh a bit
And watch your scrotum roam.
But better do it carefully
Or it may change your life.
One night I did it with my girl
And now my girl's my wife!
She does Cremastericreflexitsascrotomaticclenchin'!
Cremastericreflexitsascrotomaticclenchin'!
Cremastericreflexitsascrotomaticclenchin'!
Cremastericreflexitsascrotomaticclenchin'!
Hey! I'm vain as hell. How come my entries keep getting lost? This is like 4 out of the last 6 where I'm missing. Dammit.
Anyway, it's over here.
(I wonder how many times I'll use that as a post title before it gets old?)
It's time to vote for the first Immunity Challenge for Survivor: The Blogosphere Edition.
I'm not allowed to tell you which one is mine or Don will molest my cow but it shouldn't be too difficult for you to figure it out. Look for brilliance, insight, humor and smugness. That's me in a nutshell. Plus humility, of course.
No it isn't, you jackass! If it's new then there wasn't a previous substandard product that needed improving. In order for something to be improved you have to start with an unimproved item. That old unimproved item might have been new but just making it better does not magically erase the fact that it was already there previously.
You cannot have something that is both NEW and IMPROVED.
[/rant]
Ryan has a post worthy of all our fecal praise.
Here's the problem with shuffling up too far on the toilet seat, and this is what I noticed just a short while ago on the crapper. As any veteran male pooper knows, when you clench off a fecal fragment, your wang twitches. Or, maybe it's just me, but whatever. The point is, when I flex the appropriate kegel muscles to pinch off a turdlett, my pecker does a little spasm dance that usually involves brief upward motion.
Cuppa coffee and a poop post. Wednesday is starting very well.
My life is rated NC-17.
What is your life rated?
Damn. How am I going to get the Junior High girls with a rating like that?
(Link ripped from LeeAnn, who will unfortunately be swimming home within a few weeks)
Michele's post cheered me up quite a bit and I just got an email from the Pres that has put a big smile on my face.
I did not know until this afternoon that you were a veteran and just wanted to pass along my thanks for having served.
That's the President of my company, of course, not Dubya.
It's Veteran's Day and I've had some serious blues going on. I usually do on this day. It's part nostalgia, part loss and maybe a little bit of self pity thrown in. Maybe a lot of that last one, actually.
Anyway, I just read a wonderful post by Michele that has picked me up quite a bit. Thanks Michele. :)
One of the things in Kim's rant that I did agree with but didn't have the time to blog about has been expounded upon by Craig Henry. Specifically, men are protrayed as bumbling idiots in commercials and in many entertainment vehicles.
To go further, while men of all types are on the receiving end, husbands are the ones who get it worseI don't doubt that if you totaled all the spending on these commercials you would conclude that "husbands are dumb" is the most popular advertising message in America. If TV commercials can shape the image of a sneaker or beer, what is it doing to the image of marriage.
...
I wonder if these ads are part of the reason that men are deserting TV, especially broadcast TV. The barrage of disparaging commercials just make it a little less appealing to the male demographic.
Absolutely, yes. My favorite television show is 7th Heaven. The fact that the show doesn't treat anybody as an idiot is one of the reasons that I like watching it. Other shows I watch include...uh...lemme think here...
Okay, so I don't watch a lot of shows. Sometimes I'll catch the Crocodile Hunter. Storm Stories and Mail Call are pretty good. I can always get into a decent documentary on the History Channel and Travel Channel's "Top blahblahblah of the World" are often entertaining. Notice a trend? I don't watch things that irritate me and the ever growing "guys are lovable losers/bumbling idots" thing has pretty much trashed television as an entertainment vehicle for me.
(Link snagged from Instapundit)
So, some rich chick that I never heard of until last month got shagged rotten on tape. Um...who cares? I mean, come on! A rich, pampered, sex kitten with nothing except money and guys to blow had nasty sex? What are the odds? Why, this is the most shocking thing since rich, spoiled, playmate, sex kitten Pamela Anderson had nasty sex. I couldn't believe it then and I can't believe it now.
That people are making a deal out of this, that is. People have sex. Some people get off by taping themselves having sex. Rich spoiled socialites are people, just like playmates, other types of sex kittens, gardeners, average Joes with McJobs and even (arguably) Hillary Clinton. Why is it so shocking that a small percentage of these people are also stupid enough to let these tapes escape into the wild? With the number of stupid people out there it's inevitable that there will be people who belong in both the "sex taper" and "moron" groups.
Get over it already.
I guess writing porn pays off. Extended entry is not work safe.
Hi ho the derry-o, a banning we will go!
I had my very first comment spammer. Yay. Can anybody tell me how putting an advertisement in a weblog post that is over a month old is going to translate into sales? Idiots.
Anyway, IP 81.218.181.128 has been banned. If you are connecting via Bezeqint.net you may have problems here now. Drop me an email if you do.
And if anybody else would like to inform this jackoff of exactly what an ass he actually is, here's his contact info (from the whois database):
berr, poule poule_ber@yahoo.com
12 Kimosol st.
Limasol, xx 79324
GR
+732-66974858
His domain was set up just a day ago at EV1servers. Jackass wasted no time getting out the spam, eh?
I can write more than humor and horror, you know. ;-)
Parental advisory: You should be at least 18 years of age to view the extended entry.
We took Luuk to the Annual Pow-wow and Indian Festival at Stone Mountain Park. As expected we didn't see any Crows but we did run into some Creek, Chippewa and Iroquois. Luuk got a kick out of the inter-tribal dances. Those are the ones where anybody can join in. In typical bearish fashion he noted that the footwork of the medicine dances is quite a bit like an Irish jig. Pics are in the extended entry. Click on any of the little pics to see the full size jpgs.
It's whether you win.
Survivor: The Blogoshpere Edition is set to begin and yours truly is a contestant. My competition is varied and skilled:
Jeff
Pylorns
Emily
Helen
LeeAnn
Good luck to all of my competitors. No, wait. I don't mean that at all. Bad luck to you! I wanna win.
Fear not, Helen, Luuk has arrived at last! He's in pretty good shape except for some pretty nasty looking facial bruises. At first I was thinking this might be bear abuse. You know, it's always done by the last person you expect. I was about to call Child and Ursine Services on Don (he was the last person I expected, seeing as he hasn't met Luuk yet) but then Luuk assured me that it was a result of a bar fight. You're safe for now Don but I'll be keeping an eye on you.
He was a bit tired from his trip and passed out after 6 shots of Goldshlager. He's curled up on the bed right now. What a cutie. Fierce but cute, that is. He is a bear after all.
He got here just in time. Tomorrow we'll be going to the big Pow-wow at Stone Mountain. We're a bit south for good representation by my own tribe (Nana Peacock was a full blooded Crow indian) but there are lots of others there. Last year we were lucky enough to see a presentation by a group of Aztec dancers. Luuk and I will give you the lowdown when we get back tomorrow.
Judge: I'm sorry, Mr. Mouse, but I cannot award you a divorce on the grounds of your complaint. We see no evidence that Mrs. Mouse is not in her right mind.
Mickey: Your Honor, I didn't say that she was insane. I said that she was fucking Goofy!
Time for another round of The Cheddar X.
Ladies, you know how when you're out at a popular club and you have to go to the bathroom and you've been waiting in line to get into the damned ladies' room for a half an hour and it hasn't really moved and you've seen about a hundred and fifty guys go in and out of the men's room?
Hahahaha.
The sickness that is rampaging through the household for the past week and a half has finally beaten me down into a pulp. I'm home today and won't be blogging much, if at all. The worst part is that Lovely Wife is coming off of her own sickness so can't get into full nurturing mode. What's the sense of being sick if you can't get babied by your wife? Ah, well. Such is life.
Just in case anyone is actually still coming by (at last check, I'm still getting about 1,300 hits a day for some bizarre reason even though this blog sucks now and we all know it)
It's the same reason that Moses didn't get lynched some time during that 40 year hike. We know that some time in the future we will hit that Piquant link and be rewarded for our perseverance. Or maybe it's the same reason that a rat trained to hit a bar to get crack will keep hitting the bar even after it's changed to give him an electric shock instead of crack. Not sure which of those applies more. Anyway...
Rachel was the first big blogger to notice Snooze Button Dreams and is still at or near the top of my referers lise each month even though she's taking a break from blogging.
Women are better equipped for this than men because their butts stop the backsplash.
Howard wants to get a solid constituency in the South but, based on recent comments, he's going to be having some problems doing so. Let's face it, saying that we should quit basing our votes on "race, guns, God and gays" shows pretty conclusively that he doesn't know his target audience. He's lumping all of us Southern bigots into one big group when there are actually three distinct types of Southern bigot. You got yer white trash, yer rednecks and yer good ol' boys and Howie is going to need to tailor his voting instructions to each group.
Now I'm a helpful sort, that's just the way folk are down here, so I've compiled a little guide for Howard to use while he's down here drumming up support. Snooze Button Dreams proudly presents:
The Howard Dean Guide To Southern Bigots
Well I finally took a couple of minutes to gather a "best of Snooze" list and stuck it in the sidebar. Hopefully that will help new visitors to decide on making SBD a regular stop (or adding it to the NetNanny filter). Also bumped down the archive section and the recent posts section. Thinking of removing the recent posts section. Does anybody actually use this?
And, most importantly, I've come to the decision that my blog looks like crappola. I got half way into making it presentable until I realized that it was more actual effort than I was willing to put into it so it's stuck half way between a basic outline of a scheme and what I was going for.
Being a logical sort I've come to the conclusion that my skills as a website designer are pretty lowsy. Back when Notepad was high tech I was right in the forefront of web design. These days I'm still using Notepad. Say no more.
So, I will swallow my pride and ask for somebody to do the work for me assistance. Anybody out there that can give me a clean and fairly unique style sheet for my blog? The only requirements are a single sidebar setup, white or very light for the bulk of the background (posting area) and no pastels. Teal is cool. Pastel green is not.
Your reward shall be your noted presence in my sidebar in a "Site designed by" section thingy. And my undying gratitude, of course.
I could use a decent header graphic too if anybody's interested. Apart or with a workable style.
Howard Dean campaigns in Tallahassee
Democratic presidential candidate Howard Dean told a Tallahassee audience today that southerners have to quit basing their votes on "race, guns, God and gays."...
Dean said he hopes to reassemble a coalition of conservative southern voters like President Franklin Roosevelt had in the "solid South" 70 years ago.
Yeah, Howard. That's just the way to start turning around the polls down here in Hicksville.
Damn Yankee.
UPDATE: This just struck me as odd. Isn't Dean's platform partially based on promotion of minorities, gun control, and gay rights? Sort of a case of the pot saying "I'm a lying jackass and you should vote for me as anything else will just show that you're ignunt hicks." calling the kettle black.
UPDATE2: Sure enough, on Dean's own website we find that he has policy statements about race, guns and gays. Nothing really specific about God but there's a good bit of brimstone in the dozens of search results for 'religious'. So was Dean telling us Southerners to not consider him as a candidate then? Or just to ignore his issues?
(First heard at Day by Day, link found at Instapundit)
The Letter of the Day is was "D".
"D" is for Doping, Doggy Style and Death Penalty Deferred.
A surge of support has carried Doppel-G to a strong victory in the poll, therefore the illustrious G shall furthermore be known as Doppel-G in these hallowed halls.
Thank you for your support and participation. I thank you, Munuviana thanks you, and most importantly Doppel-G thanks you.
Final poll results were:
Moondoggie (22)
Doppel-G (26)
G-Whiz (6)
G-Muse (4)
Undecided. The poll for G's new name is tied at 21 votes apiece for Moondoggie and Dopple-G. The polls shall remain open until tomorrow morning! So it is said, so it shall be.
Inaugural winner of the Prime Minister’s Prize for Science Dr Jim Peacock has just (last week) become President of the Australian Academy of Science. Will he, a champion of GM technology find it difficult to deal with public concerns about uses of genetically modified crops? How will he confront the ever diminishing supply of funds for research.
I didn't even know I was eligible. So where's my plane ticket? And how did they know that I like GM cars? And what does that have to do with genetically modified crops? Wacky Aussies.
As Don sits studiously writing the next portion of his future historical biography, he is engulfed by a sulfurous, but oddly pleasant in a musky manly-man sort of way, cloud. As the cloud clears he finds himself in a dark and musty cavern. Standing over him is a monstrous form, complete with shiny horns and spikey tail.
Jim: Hey, Don. How's it hanging?
Don: WTF?
Jim: You didn't actually just spell out "W-T-F", did you? That is so...so...
Don: Trite? Generation-X? Geeky?
Jim: That last one.
Actually, it's not so bad as that. Kim du Toit posted/ranted about being a manly man and Venomous Kate called him on it. Turns out they're positions are a lot closer than they thought at first. Good essay, good response, good commenting. This is what the Blogosphere is all about.
UPDATE: Ilyka's got two cents to spare on the subject. And it's a bargain at that price. Go read.
UPDATE 2: Michele's got it going on, too. A little bit of this and a little bit of that.
Today is G's 30'th birth anniversary! That's right, he's now a man. As an extra special present, his new nickname will be awarded today. The poll is very tight with only one vote separating the top contenders. Your vote could be the difference!
And remember, we're using Chicago voting rules. Already voted? Vote again! Because if you're willing to press a button twice then I care twice as much about your opinion as everybody elses.
Vote soon as the poll will close an some unpredictable time today (basically, whenever I get the time to edit the blog template to remove it).
The Carnival of the Vanities is launched over at WizBang. Very nifty election theme complete with trivia by my interrogator interviewer Jennifer.
But it's missing my own entry, which has made me grumbly.
Jennifer's interview of me is ready for your perusal. Ever wonder what's up with the giant cow udder? Now's your chance to find out.
Found at Electric Venom. Kate got it from Inoperable Terran
RIO RANCHO, N.M. -- A Rio Rancho teen was slapped with an in-school suspension for taking both sodas that came out of a vending machine, when he had only paid for one.On Monday, Rio Rancho student Mason Kisner, 12, said he bought a can of pop at a school vending machine, and instead of getting one can, he received two.
Kisner said he spread the word, and other students tried to get in on the deal. A teacher who saw Kisner getting the two sodas on Monday told him not to do it again. But Kisner said the teacher saw him get another two sodas for the price of one on Tuesday.
The boy said the teacher called him a thief and accused him of trying to teach other students how to steal. He was written up, given a two-day in-school suspension and the incident will appear on his permanent school record.
First things first. Isn't this entrapment? The teacher knows that the machine is malfunctioning. Instead of disabling the machine, he/she decided to just keep an eye on it. How is this different from putting a $5 bill on your desk and hiding in the closet? He/she created a situation designed to tempt people into an act that he/she viewed as illegal.
Second things second. How exactly do you not take the second soda? None of the vending machines here in Georgia have a return slot in case an extra soda pops out. Are the machines different in New Mexico? Should he have brought the extra soda to the principal's office maybe? Does anybody believe that whatever authority figure he surrendered it to would then contact the vendor to return the can? Or that the vendor would drive on down to collect it? How many people would go out of their way to return an extra soda from a vending machine in any case? According to the poll posted with that news article a whopping 5% would do so.
Last things last. Kisner shouldn't have gone back to the machine after having been warned by the teacher. He messed up when he did. The teacher should have handled the machine problem. He/she messed up when he/she didn't. Shouldn't the teacher be subjected to a similar punishment? Suspension for a week and a permanent record statement along the lines of "contributed to the delinquency of a minor".
You're not the sharpest tool in the box and often have to make up words to make yourself understood but you certainly know how to work the system as a Mr. President Bush. You take what you want, get people to do your dirty work but nurture your allies making you a great collaborator and very dangerous enemy.
Bush is an evil dictator? Gee, that is oh so clever. I've never heard any bit of hate speech even remotely like that. How original. Hey, Novistrana! How about a nice hot cup of shut the fuck up? (Dis credits to Right We Are)
Asshats.
(Hat tip to Kevin at Wizbang, though I doubt he knew about this particular quiz result.)
Idea totally ripped off from Don.
As God walks off into the sunset chuckling heartily over his victory against Don, Jim pops up in that annoying arms-waving-about-attracting-attention manner of his.
Jim: Hey, wait up!
Crapola. I totally missed my counter passing 20,000 hits. I was going to do a blog retrospective there. Ah, well. We'll reschedule that for 25,000 then.
Can you hear the crickets?
Sorry, no truths of life or amusing anecdotes today. I spent the morning getting a tire fixed. The same tire that was replaced two weeks ago. Actually that's not exactly true. I took the morning off so I could get the tire fixed and ended up sleeping in. It went something like this:
Eyes open.
Look at clock.
Clock says 6:30.
Thought processed begin.
"Great. It's 6:30. I can get up, have a relaxing cup of coffee, blog a bit, shower and still be at the tire place when they open. Isn't that great?"
Thought processes refine.
"I took a half day off. If I do all of that then I'll still be at work fairly early but not early enough to not take a half day off."
Thought processes crystalize.
"Screw it."
Eyes close.
Sleep resumes.
So I slept in late and boy was it freaking awesome. No sleep feels as good as naughty sleep. But the end result is I'm at work with a day's worth of work to do in half a day. Come on now, y'all know that you don't actually get time off when you take time off. Compounding this is a company meeting that starts in 10 minutes that will take about half of my half day leaving me one quarter of a day to do a day's work.
Net result, the 80% of my brain that is usually reserved for tracking absurdities and formulating humorous anecdotes out of the ridiculousness of life has been hijacked for actual rational thought. Bummer.
But while you wait in vain for something amusing to be issued on these pages, a wait doomed to result in heartbreak I might add, you can send an email to Jen for my upcoming interview. Don't you have something that you've always wanted to ask me but were afraid to posit for fear of my maniacal retribution? Now's your chance.
Bacon is watching Lilo & Stitch. From the walls and ceilings that he is bouncing off of. In other words, he's feeling pretty good and is amped on steroids and whatever other crap is in his medicine.
Got the call from Lovely Wife a bit after 3:00, carried the two sleeping babes to the family truckster and went to pick up the lost family members. We were back home and in bed finally by 3:30.
Lovely Wife has taken the other two out to do some errands to give our little sicko some peace. Not that he seems to want any, of course. He sounds like a harbor seal but he's in hyperactive mode. Kids - you just can't keep 'em down.
Daddys, on the other hand, are easy to keep down. Make em stay awake half the night worrying and then wake em up early. I'm wondering how early I can put the troops to bed tonight so I can sneak off to my own repose.
1:30 AM on a Saturday night. I haven't seen many of these over the past couple of years. Unfortunately most of the ones I have seen have been because of stuff like tonight.
Bacon is at the hospital, taken there by an ambulance. Lovely Wife is with him while I stay here with the other two boys. They're sleeping, which is both expected and the reason I'm here instead of all of us being there. It's a disadvantage though because if they were making some noise it would be easier to stay awake.
Lovely Wife called just a little bit ago. Bacon is doing fine. He has a nasty case of croup. Before we called the ambulance he was struggling to take any breath at all. Very scary.
But like I said, he's doing okay now. Not great but not in danger. He's in a hospital, after all. He's getting a steroid inhalation treatment and then he'll need to be there for a couple hours to be monitored. He should do okay after the treatment. If not, they might be there for quite a while.
Drinking coffee and playing Snood to keep awake. Hey, my normal bedtime is 9:00 PM. This is LATE for me.
And there's one of the boys crying now. Good - gives me something to do besides fret.
