Okay, so maybe this isn’t new news, but I just found The Filthy Critic again. Last I heard, he’d died like he lived, wobbling dangerously on a bicycle in the fast lane or some such. I’m glad to see he’s back and providing those fine reviews for us. Just wish he’d learn to spell . . .
‘Twas the ninth day before Christmas
and all through the house
many creatures were stirring . . .
“Crap! We still haven’t sent cards!”
So, nine days to go and I still haven’t succumbed to the consumer spirit of the holidays. I feel as if I’ve let my country down. I can hear a little voice in my head (although I can’t tell if it’s Dubya’s, the big Dick’s, or Toby Keith’s) saying “If you don’t spend madly on gifts, the terrorists have won. Come on, you’re either for us or against us. We’ve still got room at Guantanamo for a few more, boy. We’ll get you in the holiday spirit, even if we have to beat, rape and electrocute it into you.” Ah, much better. I feel the mood of the season descending upon me. Sort of like a wet blanket in a blizzard.
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I want the mpaa version.
Perhaps they should have considered levitra . . .
Well, I’m glad to hear it wasn’t a conspiracy or fraud, just an incredible coincidence and bad luck that only votes for the Democrat were altered or unable to be registered . . . Why are we more concerned with fair elections in the Ukraine than in fair elections in the U.S.? Besides the obvious answer that most of us are either idiots, evil, or just too damned apathetic, that is?
My ISP wouldn’t let me add the necessary perl modules to run the captcha plugin, so I’m switching to registered comments only (among other things). Funfun. So, get your free typekey account set up and speak up!
Dammit! Okay, mt-comments.cgi is now officially offline and I cannot receive comments (thank you, the three legitimate commenters I’ve had on my site so far). Checking my access logs, it appears the spambastards (I suppose the abbreviation spamtards or spamturds works is easier to say and type) have flooded my moveable type comments script. Okay, so now it’s time to once again fight back. I’m updating my .htaccess file if possible on this server, adding a “captcha” to the comments section, changing the name of mt-comments.cgi, and if necessary, forcing comment preview before submission. Thank you, spamturds. I’m also rethinking my death-penalty position. I see no reason people who mess with my little site should continue to exist. . .
Is work supposed to leave you feeling useless, anxious, hopeless and generally stressed? Or is it supposed to be fulfilling (or at least neutral)? For me these days it s the former. I have a whole slough of bosses, it seems, all with different agendas. Makes it a bit hard to focus; I typically have to decide which one(s) I want to send into a fit that day and which one(s) I want to mollify. Makes for a rather hostile work environment. The only sensible thing, I suppose, is to focus on the money, ignore the chaos, and ride it until the end. That just doesn’t sound like fun, though.
A more adventurous person than myself would quit and work on his photography, on the two books he’s started but doubts he will ever finish. A more adventurous person would not worry about mortgage payments or insurance or a madly-spending wife. Ignore Nancy and follow Nike: Don’t just say no, just do it! Unfortunately, I am not a more adventurous person. I like stability. I would choose guaranteed drudgery and safety over potential happiness. so I wait, toiling away and building up stress. Eventually I’ll either get fired or die. Either way, I can stop worrying about it then. Ahh, bliss! Okay, back to work.
And now, courtesy of the spambastards I have yet to delete, a tale of absolutely no clarity:
Arthur Jermyn stopped out on the moor and illustrated himself after seeing the grand-looking object which had come from Africa. The reason why Arthur Jermyns lasted nexium were not collected and unpretentious lies in what was found afterward, principally the thing in the box. Then there was a- more glaring fear–a very germinal sensation resulting from a shallow experiment in the hide-out army in twenty. This tribe, after destroying most of the zyrtec and killing the unyielding beings, had carried off the hot-honey goddess which had been the object of their quest.
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I’m going/I’m staying/I’m going/I’m staying. Oooookay. It looks like I’m staying. If anyone’s reading this, I spent the past week in Boulder, CO. Nice town, nice cool weather, but I really wish it would’ve snowed. And I have a ton of stuff I need to blog from my time there (I may not be willing to purge my stomach, but I have no problems purging my thoughts. Some time I should try a mental binge as well). Anyway, I was supposed to go back to Boulder this morning. Or maybe not. Definitely supposed to. But wait . . . that’s been my day today. Nothing really useful done, lots of stress, but at the end of the day, no flight. I think I like it. Okay, I’m rambling; it’s time to get back to work.
