As part of my overall push to become the premier hostmaster for Monaural Jerk-based blogs, I finally managed to upgrade Wendi’s site today. The only hitch in the process was on account of a category name change at some point in the history of her site. The rest was fairly straightforward, and the results are rather spiffy if I do say so myself.
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The high cost of being Me.
I am, generally speaking, a nice guy. Sensitive, thoughtful, funny, that sort of thing. All in all I’m one of the most harmless folks you’ll ever meet.
Except, of course, when my brain goes into its occasional fits of thoughtlessness and I bust out with some utterly stupid act that costs me dearly. Usually the cost is measured in lost respect or lost opportunity or even just lost money… but every so often I pull something boneheaded enough to cost me a relationship.
I did just that yesterday. I’ve lost Heather as a friend.
Sorry, but I’m not going to go into details other than to say nobody was physically harmed and that it involved a breach of trust.
So, this makes two important relationships I’ve managed to scuttle in as many years. Springtime, even. I’ve got a great idea: How about I not go for three in a row?
Yeah, I know. I don’t hold out a lot of hope for me, either.
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Custom-made Hell
I think the interface to this little widget is more interesting than the results, actually. But here you go, since Mari and Lilith both did it, I did it too…
Parents who bring squalling brats to R-rated movies, General asshats
Circle I LimboMilitant Vegans
Circle II Whirling in a Dark & Stormy WindProselytizers
Circle III Mud, Rain, Cold, Hail & SnowSpammers
Circle IV Rolling WeightsScientologists
Circle V Stuck in Mud, MangledRiver Styx
Virus hackers
Circle VI Buried for EternityRiver Phlegyas
Religious zealots
Circle VII Burning SandsHatemongers, Rapists, Child Molesters
Circle IIX Immersed in ExcrementGeorge W Bush, Saddam Hussein, Osama bin Laden
Circle IX Frozen in IceDesign your own hell
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So it’s not exactly PURE evil.
I scored higher (as it were) than Lil’s blog, and in fact higher than most anyone else I know of so far. C’mon, see if you can beat me (as it were).
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“He’s a giant chicken, I tell you!”
Welcome to the new Memories section, where I write about things I really should have written about at the time but for some reason or other (that would be “laziness,” most of the time) I didn’t.
Oh, and bonus points if anyone catches where I got this entry’s title. Heh.
So. A while back, Lil’ and Geoffrey and I were at Freddy’s. I think it was so she could buy cosmetics, or some such. Geoff’ and I snarked a lot, as usual. Shortly before the end of the shopping trip, I spotted this:
Well now. What have we here? It’s a giant chicken for sale!
“It’s a duck,” Geoffrey insisted. I was, of course, mildly offended… mainly because that’s the worst excuse for a duck I’ve ever seen. Besides, it had a comb on its head. That makes it a chicken, right? We went back and forth about that for a few minutes without either being convinced of the other’s position.
So he found the box it came in. Sure enough… that’s supposed to be a duck. Go figure, eh?
What have we shown here, folks? Shopping with me is always bound to be a snark-filled experience! That, and apparently I can’t tell the difference between a giant inflatable duck and a giant inflatable chicken…
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The culture of hating pop culture.
You know those holier-than-thou folk who hate everything big and successful on general principles and who worship the most obscure personalities and brands?
Yeah, okay. I was one of those too, once. But I’m in recovery. Anyway… read the following diatribe. Nuff said.
(Found via a comment thread on Jack Bog’s Blog.)
Kulturreich