Two turkeys for Thanksgiving. Urgh. I feel the inspiration (or is that just indigestion?).
I think that I shall never see
a sight so lovely as a fridge without turkey . . .
And so, as the day fades away, I hear the gentle trill of two small voices:
“I am the evilest and meanest and can’t talk robot.”
“Oh, be quiet, you chickenhead!”
“Everybody in the world is chickenheads! . . . hey, my farts smell like root beer!”
And with that touching thought, good day and good night to the world.
Call me cynical. Please. Anyway, here’s my light reading for the day. If you took G.W.’s brain out, and lined up all the functional brain cells end to end, would you have to learn how to count with imaginary numbers?
It’s 10 a.m., and I really need to get some real work done. That said, I also need to get breakfast. I think I’ll blog instead. So, here are ten reasons why I am not filing for divorce anytime soon. Afterwards, I’ll try to come up with at least five why my wife wouldn’t leave me . . .
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Hokay now . . . I’ve downloaded and configured MT-Blacklist, so comments are once again moderated but do not require sign-in. This is a good thing, right? Too bad my ISP doesn’t use the right PERL modules; I would love to be able to have MT-B update itself automatically.
Hmmm . . . I wonder if that error line at the bottom of the MT-Blacklist configuration screen is important . . . Use of uninitialized value in concatenation (.) or string at /users/web/natoslug/web/blog/extlib/File/Spec/Unix.pm line 78.
What else? Ooh, I’ve added a PayPal link, just in case anybody out there feels like giving me a dollar? Why would you? I dunno — maybe you’ve been dropped on your head recently lately and feel like tossing out some cash at random. Works for me.
Well dang. I didn’t realize there was a Howard Stern movie called Private Parts. So, do I change my site name, or what? I guess I’ll wait until someone notices my site, and in the meantime I can try to think of something else catchy to play off of Oliphant Parts. Like maybe “Nathan’s Tirades”, or “Oliphant Heard”, or something else equally awkward. Damn you, Howard Stern! I so wanted my Private Parts to be mine mine mine!
So, it is Monday again. What is happening today? I made the mistake of watching C-SPAN last night and was subjected to Rush Limbaugh, but I will get to that later. I see Condoleeza Rice is not getting an early Senate confirmation hearing. Now that’s interesting. I think I will deal with that later. Ah!- NPR has a “five-part series called, ‘Digital Generations,’ begins with a report on how some rural communities are installing their own high-speed Internet connections. New research indicates that speed is the determining factor in who uses the Internet.” That is worth writing about now.
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So, I watched National Treasure the other night. For those of you who haven’t seen the EXCITING PREVIEWS!!!, it is the story of Nicholas Cage as Intrepid Hero (a.k.a Benjamin Franklin Gates), Justin Bartha (first seen in the cinematic masterpiece Gigli) as Amusing Sidekick (a.k.a. Riley something), Diane Kruger in the dual role of Hysterical Lady and Love Interest, Sean Bean as Evil Villain, Harvey Keitel as Mason (no, not the jar type, but rather the stonemason type) FBI Guy With Heart of Gold and various other people randomly filling the role of Evil Henchman. Oh, and Soaring Music as the soaring music that blasts through each scene, overpowering pretty much every insipid moment that appeared on the screen. That is the cast, and now for the review.
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Okay, perhaps I am being a bit unfair to vermin in this comparison . . . Today I deleted 146 attempted comments to my blog. I’ve let the comments build up for almost 24 hours. Unlike a year ago, only one of those was from a drug pusher; the bulk were from poker sites. Texas hold-em, world poker, poker room — all such creative user names. I especially like the return addresses. Yeah, I expect yghycj@a2058758668478c3ddcfbebfa56a55182.com to email me back if I send out a missive asking for more on his (her?) view that “Religion is still parasitic in the interstices . . . “.
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I said I’d write every day, didn’t I? Oh well — I also said I would brush and floss after every meal. That didn’t work out so well either (am I the only person whose dentist has said “Stop flossing so much!”?). Okay, it’s the day after Thanksgiving, and I am thankful that I will not be eating that much food in one meal again for a long while. Until Christmas eve, at least. Two turkeys, countless pies, enough stuffing for a horse (hmmm . . . I wonder how that would taste), sweet potatoes, yams, mashed potatoes, salads. Enough with the food already! It’s time to go watch my wife shop.
This week marks the end of my great VOIP experiment. The promise was low rates, great service, a cool acronym, and hip technology. Vonage promised, but did not deliver. The technology sounds cool, but relies on an unreliable network. Most of the time it sounded like I was in an echo chamber. I could not use touch tone navigation with the Vonage service, since every button I pressed was repeated one to three times. When I did not echo, I sounded like a chipmunk, or just broke up. The “chipmunk effect” was great: I would talk to people, they would start saying “hello?” since I would suddenly stop speaking (from their perspective), and suddenly there would be a packet burst or something and my voice data would be delivered at a much higher speed than usual. I sounded like a chipmunk. Ten to fifteen seconds of voice data delivered in two to three seconds. Oh yeah, that is a really great feature during a conference call.
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My conversion to the Dark Side is complete. I watched my wife go over and scoffed at her, how easily-led she was, how willing to lock herself in to a predetermined path. Then came Vally, showing me the power and ease of using the dark side. I liked my freedom, [...]
I went to sleep last night with the warmth of August and awoke to a cold house and a day of bright skies and bitter winds. That, and the piles of freshly-fallen redwood leaves tells me that summer left with Vally and fall is upon us. Goodbye, summer. Goodbye, Vally. [...]
the wedding party’s gone and all that remains is an arch, a tent and a billion tiny grains of sandy beach and footprints fading in the wind
Today’s invasive terror brought to you by the colour yellow.
Saturday is my day for quiet reflection and self-aggrandizing pomposity. Saturday is the day I ask the Big Questions. Why am I here?* Have I led a good life?** Where the hell did I leave my book? Seriously, where is my book?
This is but one of several heads mounted along the walls of my grandfather’s house. They used to scare the hell out of me when I was younger.
Poor Aaron has a love/hate relationship with sheep: He loves the way they taste, but hates the way they always want to trample him into dust. So with that in mind, here is his exciting 2006 Mutton Bustin’ ride. All 5 seconds or so of it.
The goldfish is dying. He quit eating on Friday, and has been swimming sideways since Saturday. I can see him gasping, but beyond providing a quick and (hopefully) painless death, have nothing I could do for him. Poor little guy. It would be kinder to end his life now, but [...]
Okay, twenty more minutes to the Rapture. Have you made arrangements for your pets yet? I think I’m going to sit this one out, thanks. The kids and I have decided that watching Dr. Who is more exciting.
Okay, I’m hiding this image before it gives my viewer (viewers?) siezures.
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