I've just heard that Paul Newman has died. I hope I don't need to go on at length about why this is a tragedy of monumental proportion. Butch Cassidy has ridden into the sunset. Eddie Felson has hustled his last. Reggie Dunlop will goon no more. Luke has finally stopped shaking the world.
A true Hollywood giant, the likes of which they can't make more of, has fallen and the world is a little dimmer today as a result. Even taking away all that he gave to movie lovers, his philanthropy alone would be enough to mourn his passing. Last I heard he'd pulled together in excess of 200 million dollars worth of charitable contributions. Wrap your mind around that.
Rest in peace Mr. Newman. There will never be another like you.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
I'm looking at you, London...
A long time back Google put out a cool little thing, shocking I know, that a few of us decided to use for shits and giggles. It was Google Analytics. You use it to track traffic on your site and see who is looking and how they're looking and so on and so forth. We tooled around with it for a while and then more or less forgot about it. It's a great tool but our blogs and such don't really have enough traffic to need constant tracking.
Anyway, I remembered that it was there and went to check it. Most people that visit here use Firefox and have cable, no surprises there. Most visits come from the U.S. and from 38 total countries so far, that's pretty cool. Hmmm...what's this, the keywords that people plugged in that brought them here. This should be good for a laugh or three.
OK, let's see here, we have quite a few about the Arizona Tea label. Maybe I'm not the only one that noticed it has a fucking slave on it. Searches for books and movies and music and shows and comics that I've mentioned. Nothing strange there. Let's look a little deeper.
Thagatha photos. I don't know what that means.
Monica Bellucci chocolate. Nothing wrong with that, brother.
Things in fives. That makes sense.
Fuking in stoking. I uh, I don't know what you're trying to say to me but I don't think I like it.
Everything but your underwear. Hahaha. Good times.
Take off your socks. No. No I will not.
Take off my socks. I don't even know you!
Real torture porn. What. The. Fuck.
Vulnerable naked man. Taco?
Celebrity fishing. Really, dude? Really?
Clothes socks off gyno. Is it wrong that that one turns me on a little?
Cinemax late night hot girls. But that one doesn't. It's sad that you can't commit and search for actual porn.
Everything that got to with devil. I'm sorry, what?
Fucking I stoking. First in stoking and now I stoking? Who are you!? What are you trying to tell me!!??
Evil master of suction. I give up. You found me.
Grimmstail. Look out Grimmy, someone's looking for you.
Excuses not to take off socks. ...ew.
Gyno gown socks off. What is it with you people and socks? Seriously?
Hate engine. Mine is custom. Get your own.
He's stoking me. I don't even want to know what the hell was going on there.
How many stuff things are there. Dude. SO many!
How to use a urinal without showing your junk. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Don't be ashamed of your tiny weiner! Show it with pride!
lolgoats. Fuck you! We invented that, motherfucker!
Maple syrup lubricant. First of all how did that lead here and second, eeeeeeewwwwww!
Zombi porn. Taco?
A dozen more things about socks...get a hobby people. For reals.
Obsessive compulsive scratch even number licking disorder-cat-dog. I don't have the words to describe the level at which I do NOT want to meet this person EVER.
Zebulon banner. Why didn't I think of that!? This is the best thing ever!
Stuff to do late night in Crystal Lake. Besides getting fucking killed you mean? Not much.
Taptaptap sex porn. What the fuck are you tapping on? And stay away from my precious sex porn!
Why are some scorpios so mean? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
So yeah, people are weird. They're apparently a bunch of sock obsessed, porn wanting, pet licking, tiny dicked freaks that should never be allowed to interact with other folk. By other folk I mean me. Keep them away from me. I'm going to go hide everything I own and buy some more locks for the door.
Anyway, I remembered that it was there and went to check it. Most people that visit here use Firefox and have cable, no surprises there. Most visits come from the U.S. and from 38 total countries so far, that's pretty cool. Hmmm...what's this, the keywords that people plugged in that brought them here. This should be good for a laugh or three.
OK, let's see here, we have quite a few about the Arizona Tea label. Maybe I'm not the only one that noticed it has a fucking slave on it. Searches for books and movies and music and shows and comics that I've mentioned. Nothing strange there. Let's look a little deeper.
Thagatha photos. I don't know what that means.
Monica Bellucci chocolate. Nothing wrong with that, brother.
Things in fives. That makes sense.
Fuking in stoking. I uh, I don't know what you're trying to say to me but I don't think I like it.
Everything but your underwear. Hahaha. Good times.
Take off your socks. No. No I will not.
Take off my socks. I don't even know you!
Real torture porn. What. The. Fuck.
Vulnerable naked man. Taco?
Celebrity fishing. Really, dude? Really?
Clothes socks off gyno. Is it wrong that that one turns me on a little?
Cinemax late night hot girls. But that one doesn't. It's sad that you can't commit and search for actual porn.
Everything that got to with devil. I'm sorry, what?
Fucking I stoking. First in stoking and now I stoking? Who are you!? What are you trying to tell me!!??
Evil master of suction. I give up. You found me.
Grimmstail. Look out Grimmy, someone's looking for you.
Excuses not to take off socks. ...ew.
Gyno gown socks off. What is it with you people and socks? Seriously?
Hate engine. Mine is custom. Get your own.
He's stoking me. I don't even want to know what the hell was going on there.
How many stuff things are there. Dude. SO many!
How to use a urinal without showing your junk. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Don't be ashamed of your tiny weiner! Show it with pride!
lolgoats. Fuck you! We invented that, motherfucker!
Maple syrup lubricant. First of all how did that lead here and second, eeeeeeewwwwww!
Zombi porn. Taco?
A dozen more things about socks...get a hobby people. For reals.
Obsessive compulsive scratch even number licking disorder-cat-dog. I don't have the words to describe the level at which I do NOT want to meet this person EVER.
Zebulon banner. Why didn't I think of that!? This is the best thing ever!
Stuff to do late night in Crystal Lake. Besides getting fucking killed you mean? Not much.
Taptaptap sex porn. What the fuck are you tapping on? And stay away from my precious sex porn!
Why are some scorpios so mean? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
So yeah, people are weird. They're apparently a bunch of sock obsessed, porn wanting, pet licking, tiny dicked freaks that should never be allowed to interact with other folk. By other folk I mean me. Keep them away from me. I'm going to go hide everything I own and buy some more locks for the door.
Monday, September 15, 2008
He just refuses to learn
I've said before and will say again that hell is hope. Plain and simple, hell is the hope of a better tomorrow that will never come. All the most vile torments of hell would lose most of their power if you could genuinely be rid of all hope that it would stop. But you see, this is hell so that won't happen. That's the nature of it. You see other people get a better tomorrow and it forces hope upon you. You see people that deserve nothing have everything and along with anger it thrusts hope into your chest because, gods damn it, why not you too?
It's hell you see?
Now you'd think I would know better. That I could break the cycle. Well, maybe you don't think that because while I share some things I tend to play it close so even if you know quite a lot about me and my own personal hell, you know only a fraction. That being the case then, I think that I would have learned by now. Learned to stop.
God, how I've tried. You have no idea how hard.
And yet.
But.
Damn it.
Here is hope again. Hounding me. Demanding attention. Forcing me to let it in against my will. Literally against my will. I don't want you here. I know what you are. And yet. But. Damn it. Here you are old friend. Old enemy. Most loved and most hated. Come on in one more time. Do your worst one more time.
See you tomorrow.
It's hell you see?
Now you'd think I would know better. That I could break the cycle. Well, maybe you don't think that because while I share some things I tend to play it close so even if you know quite a lot about me and my own personal hell, you know only a fraction. That being the case then, I think that I would have learned by now. Learned to stop.
God, how I've tried. You have no idea how hard.
And yet.
But.
Damn it.
Here is hope again. Hounding me. Demanding attention. Forcing me to let it in against my will. Literally against my will. I don't want you here. I know what you are. And yet. But. Damn it. Here you are old friend. Old enemy. Most loved and most hated. Come on in one more time. Do your worst one more time.
See you tomorrow.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Misanthrope: mis-ahn-throhp - noun
OK, here's the thing. Maybe I am a little arrogant and maybe I do walk into every room like I'm the best thing in it but you know what? I come by my arrogance honestly and most of the time I AM the best fucking thing in the room. I have it on good authority that I really am as smart as I think I am or close enough that it makes no difference and no, I'm not exactly the type to dumb down for the huddled masses yearning to scrape together a coherent thought so the huddled masses get a little touchy from time to time.
I told you that to tell you this:
It's not my fault that you're a moron. It's not my fault that you aren't as smart as me. It's not my fault that I make you feel inferior. It's your fault. So please, in future, try your best to not to be filled with such mean spirited glee if you happen across some obscure bit of trivia that I am not overflowing with information about or some little nugget of knowledge that I couldn't write an A+ term paper on at a moment's notice. Asking me about things of this nature and then going on and on in a too loud voice about how you've found something that I don't know everything about only points out to anyone with half a brain that you're a fucking ignorant douche with enough insecurities about your own third rate intellect to fill a warehouse. The fact that you were asking me in the first place means that you didn't know and the first person you thought to come to was me.
If your life is so fucking pathetic that you get real joy from finding things that I'm not filled to the brim with information about then please, in all seriousness, go lay down in the street and wait for the solution which should be along directly. Or, as a personal favor to me, shut the fuck up you mouth breathing troglodytes because I'm not just the smartest person in the room, I'm also probably the biggest and the most prone to violence. Step carefully.
And while I'm on the subject of people and their annoying habits, I have a request for the ladies who are dieting. No one wants to fucking hear about your diet that you've been on for the last FOUR FUCKING YEARS that has resulted in you losing and regaining the same 7 1/2 fucking pounds! Here's an idea you fucking whale, next time you're shopping DON'T buy the box of Twinkies and the box of Ding Dongs and the box of Ho Hos and the nine bags of chips and oh why not one more box of Twinkies.
And you on the other side? No one wants you to hover around all day so you can tell us how many fucking points the things that we're eating are worth in your diet. I don't want to hear that my pineapples are worth five whole points with that idiot's smirk on your face because your bag of twigs and pebbles are only worth two. Here's a news flash for you, you're still getting bigger and I'm the only one here losing any weight. No one fucking cares. Shut. The fuck. Up.
Thank you.
I told you that to tell you this:
It's not my fault that you're a moron. It's not my fault that you aren't as smart as me. It's not my fault that I make you feel inferior. It's your fault. So please, in future, try your best to not to be filled with such mean spirited glee if you happen across some obscure bit of trivia that I am not overflowing with information about or some little nugget of knowledge that I couldn't write an A+ term paper on at a moment's notice. Asking me about things of this nature and then going on and on in a too loud voice about how you've found something that I don't know everything about only points out to anyone with half a brain that you're a fucking ignorant douche with enough insecurities about your own third rate intellect to fill a warehouse. The fact that you were asking me in the first place means that you didn't know and the first person you thought to come to was me.
If your life is so fucking pathetic that you get real joy from finding things that I'm not filled to the brim with information about then please, in all seriousness, go lay down in the street and wait for the solution which should be along directly. Or, as a personal favor to me, shut the fuck up you mouth breathing troglodytes because I'm not just the smartest person in the room, I'm also probably the biggest and the most prone to violence. Step carefully.
And while I'm on the subject of people and their annoying habits, I have a request for the ladies who are dieting. No one wants to fucking hear about your diet that you've been on for the last FOUR FUCKING YEARS that has resulted in you losing and regaining the same 7 1/2 fucking pounds! Here's an idea you fucking whale, next time you're shopping DON'T buy the box of Twinkies and the box of Ding Dongs and the box of Ho Hos and the nine bags of chips and oh why not one more box of Twinkies.
And you on the other side? No one wants you to hover around all day so you can tell us how many fucking points the things that we're eating are worth in your diet. I don't want to hear that my pineapples are worth five whole points with that idiot's smirk on your face because your bag of twigs and pebbles are only worth two. Here's a news flash for you, you're still getting bigger and I'm the only one here losing any weight. No one fucking cares. Shut. The fuck. Up.
Thank you.
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