View Source.
Kicks Ass.

That is all.

For Christmas, I think I'm going to give everybody one of These.
In chrome, I think.

Aww, it's always gotta transfer files for weeks.

They're not even worth the time.

Coherence and Cohesiveness are overrated.
Fucker.

Hee hee.
Although, until they get the archive up to date, you'll have to backtrack to Monday's to see the one that's amusing me so.

Speaking of not a verb...

In Junior High, every sub you made cry, yell or godforbid quit was somebody's Toshi when they went home.

Jon suggests "Spicy Bear," and I think that's O K!

If I am not very much mistaken, this is a life full of silly.

I used to have a friend who'd sing, sometimes. He had a beautiful voice when he wanted to, and he sang, like in groups, with the teacher, or whatever you call it. I don't like to spell that word, because it always comes out as household duties.
Point is, he could sing neat stuff, too. Sometimes we'd sing:

EVERYBODY STINKS,
EVERYBODY STINKS,
I HATE EVERYBODY,
EVERYBODY STINKS.

Usually followed by:

I AM SO GREAT,
I AM SO GREAT,
EVERYBODY LOVES ME,
I AM SO GREAT.

Which is a semi-remembered Simpsons thing.

There is no god but somebody, and I forget who is is prophet.

He looked into her eyes and said, "I love you. I've always loved you. Since the moment I saw you there from across the room, I knew I would love you forever."
"Oh," she said, "I know it. I could see it in your eyes."
"So will you buy a vacuum cleaner?" he asked, rakishly.
"Of Course, darling, Of Course!"

Two weeks later, it arrived at the house in a flurry of packing material and invoices. She never saw him again, but thought of him every time she cleaned the living room drapes with the optional steamer attachment he had included at half price.
Love. It is the glue that makes commerce run like dust in the winds of fate that changes like a prom date in June, the summer of innocence lost.

Whatever.

My brain will always misbehave if I let it.

YAY! NEW GLASSES! YAY!

Congrats to Bro Angelbob

Was there ever any doubt? Yeah, but disease is normal.

I might have devised a scheme which will make the word "Deheoglon" searchable on Google. Hot Damn.

Close your eyes and picture the person whom you hate most in the world.
Now open them.
Right now.
Any minute now.
Seriously, right now.
Oh wait. You can't read with your eyes shut. We reach an unpleasant juncture, then. I with absolute power, you with your eyes closed, trying to read. I wonder what you see there on the other side of my magic mirror, reading with your lids down. Is it better than what I write? I'd wager yes, but I'd also like to know what it is. Oh well. Oddness abounds.
So, the point is, I want to write again. I haven't done any writing in a long, long time. I love to tread water, but now my arms are tired and I need to drown a little.

Every time I look at a Fig, I think of Yew.

Yeah.

Whatever.

Did you stop paying attention?

A new virus is moving through the internet.
It targets your virus-protection program and renders it useless. It's a really neat one. Then, any virus that comes along, one that just does something very clumsy and vicious like reformatting your hard drive, can just enter the computer and delete everthing.
It's so beautifully simple somebody had to think of it. I'm just sad I had to get an email about it.
Oh Well.
Oh, yeah, and if you email Bill Gates a million times, he will donate all his money to the war effort in Quebec where they're trying to destroy their Vermontine oppressors. Same email, equally believable.
Later on, it said that it didn't matter, really, about the virus, because all of those virus protection programs are just a plot by the government. They keep track of the web sites you visit and report back the central server, which is then scanned every day by the FBI. If you hit too many Orange-flagged sites (like this one) they have just cause to monitor all of your web surfing.
Huh. Silly Emails. Trincks are for Squids.
I gotta unsubscribe from the Rabid Wet Inspiration email list.

Every time I log in to update here, the computer says (under the username&password blanks) "REMEMBER ME [?]"
I'm always reminded of Christoper Lloyd in Roger Rabbit.

Every time you're not looking, that guy who works just far enough away you can't see him all the time (you know, the one you Don't Like) makes an ugly face and says your name under his breath.

I like a town where you can agree with the graffiti on the street.
I passed a scrawl today, and I had to say "Hell Yeah."
And go search out the phrase from the embankment on the internet.

I made up a game the other day. I'll blog it soony-soony-soon-ish. Hmm...

The perfect call, a radio play.

Telephone rings
Me: Thank you for calling Fictional Book Store, this is RoboBelly, may I help you?
Person: Yes, I need to order fifty copies of a book you needed to get rid of anyway, the title is "Fictional Book Piece of Crap" by Author You Hate. The ISBN is 0-00-666-1234. I checked the web page and Books In Print, and I hacked your system and placed the order. I just thought you'd like to know. I even went into the store and put the books on hold. I don't need a discount because you're the only store in town that has this title. Thank you. Go get an Italian soda and put it on my tab. Have a nice day.
Me: Thank you.

A real call, another radio play.

Telephone rings
Me: Hello, this is RoboBelly
Employee: There's a Woman on line 1, and she's Pissed. She said something about a book called something about "Book You Hate but Never Carry" that she ordered last week. I just thought I should warn you.
Me: Thanks.
Phone hangs up. Picks up again, buttons pushed as phone transferred.
Me: a little scared Thank you for calling Fictional Book Store, this is RoboBelly, may I help you?
Person: sounds like caller is in crowded bus terminal. (Muffled: SHUT UP YOU KIDS I TOLD YOU NO TALKING ) Hello. This is Miss Pissed-Off-At-You at BiG Elementary. I ordered forty five copies of "Book You Hate but Never Carry Because It's Seldom in Print and You Have to Call the Publisher" by Obscure Translator. I ordered them last week, and you PROMISED they would be here by Friday, but it's Tuesday now, and I don't have them (muffled SHUT UP GODDAM IT OR YOU'VE ALL GOT AFTERSCHOOL! YOU HEAR ME) and I'm supposed to be teaching this book next week and you're Ruining My Life!
M: I'm sorry. I'll see what's happening - interrupted
P: (muffled SHUT UP RIGHT NOW. THAT'S THE LAST TIME! SHUT UP) It's just that you said they'd be here by Friday. What happened?
M: I don't know. I'll find out and get back to you very soon. I just need to call the publisher and our distributor and see what's happening.
P: Alright.
M: If I could just take your phone number again, please? I'm sure I have it on your file, but it can't hurt to have it again.
P: Yes. 123 (muffledSHUT UP RIGHT NOW. THAT'S IT. YOU'RE ALL STAYING AFTER SCHOOL.) 4567
M: Thank you, have a nice day.
P: Screams into phone YOU STOP THAT RIGHT NOW OR YOU'RE SUSP- Hangs Up.


Woof. It's been a long day. And it's not even quarter-til two.

And I said goddam.

Once upon a time there was this little girl and she had a little dog that liked to go out into the flowers where there was a goat that gave good advice like "don't step in the goat patches" and "never leave sharp things lying around where you won't see them" and "don't give candy to strangers."
The little dog didn't like to leave its master, but there existed in it a need to try to understand the workings of the world, and it seemed to the little dog that the goat could help, but the unrelated linkage didn't help the dog understand, and that's why it decided to exist as thoughts in the belly of a robot instead.
Huh.
Zen.

Which is only amusing because I like to see the zen of undeveloped web space.
Kinda like KB homes, but I don't build on landfills.

When did you stop paying attentiong?

And one day, he thought, I'll be able to say the same myself.

Francesco crossed the room, and stood facing me. He looked deep into my eyes. I knew we were having problems, but when he did that, I thought we could be together forever. Ooh, Francesco's eyes.
"Honestly, Mary, the human race can go Fuck itself," he said.

Speech (vs thought)

Yes, of course I understand (you ASS, you COLOSSAL ASS!)
We must have had an error here that caused us to think you wanted more than you did (that's why we had a piece of paper with your order on it, often TEN TIMES WHAT YOU ACTUALLY WANTED, upon which you WROTE YOUR CONTACT INFO, having CLEARLY told a hapless employee you wanted THAT MANY ITEMS).
Of course. I understand (And I Hate You.)
I'll begin culling the actual wanted items from the (HUGE PILE OF BOXES) rest of the order here (AT MY DESK).
I'll get right on that (Grrrr.)
Thank you. Have a nice Day. (Don't Stub your Toe on Anything Sharp. Grrrr.)

(Not that I'm Bitter, 'r Nothin'.)
(I'm taking a break now.)

Y'know that feeling that goes "I'd fucking quit if I had another fucking offer?"
Yeahmeneither.