2/6/06
raddidge is mad at me because of a recent entry here at heptapod.org. I do not believe watching any amount of the Puppy Bowl or the Kitten half-time will soften her hard heart.

WordPress fucking sucks. I only decided to use it because Verve Hosting has something called Fantastico which automagically installs various scripts and content management systems. Since I'm a fucking idiot and WordPress was among its offerings I figured I'd give it a shot. Especially since all the cool kids have moved away from Moveable Type due to licensing issues which were recently rescinded but bitterness remains among the "blogging" community.

WordPress doesn't have that much in the way of features or plugins. Plus the templates or skins or whatever they call it are bowling shoe ugly. Heck, it's not even a moped. You know, fun until a friend catches you riding one.

Oh well, it's open source and free so one gets what one pays for in this instance.

Needless to say, it has soured me on the idea for inkubo.org.

I know it's old news. A quote from this article about square watermelons left me thunderstruck.

"Each melon sells for 10,000 yen, equivalent to about $83. It is almost double, or even triple, that of a normal watermelon.

Count your blessings. Expensive fuel but affordable fruit in this republic.

Saturday night I took a nice long shower. At the outsend I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I did take a shower. Those books had been resting on the ledge of the shower stall for heaven knows how long to keep me company while I moved my bowels. Of course everyone knows that I'm a slovenly person. Even raddidge finally got around to mentioning it. When I asked why she hasn't said anything before she shrugged and made to change the subject. Needless to say it left me feeling bad.

The subject at hand is the act of taking a shower. Without fail, after a good shower, I'll have to move my bowels. Thirty minutes under hot water to remove a layer of crust and filth and when I exit all fresh and clean I'll have to take a big sloppy shit. Why shower in the first place if I'm just going to sabotage my hygiene?

Heck, I've even gone to the bathroom before taking a shower hoping to break the vicious cycle like Ronald Reagan broke Tecumseh's curse. Once I'm dried off and packed up in sparkling white undergarments I'll be visited by the ghost of urgency and spend the next fifteen minutes grunting out a log or foul slurry depending on how my gut is behaving that day.

As you may or may not know, gentle reader, Grandpa Al Lewis passed away on Friday the third. CNN reposted the obituary from the Associated Press stating he was eighty three. According to every other website on the internet, including official site he was ninety five. So I checked CNN's page a little past midnight and discovered that his age had been reduced to eighty two! I contacted CNN via their website about the error and pretty much saying "lol fact checking".

It's the principle of being correct and that an allegedly reliable news source checks its facts before accepting something from the wire services or rushing headlong into a story. Situations like this remind me how deserving news outlets can be during disasters when the anchors wlil accept anyone claiming to be on the scene or an eyewitness only to have the call ended with "And a bababooey to y'all."

Spot is my minder. Once it's past eleven p.m., she comes in to make sure that I'm already horizontal and heading towards dreamland. After a while if she realizes I'm ignoring her, she'll go nap by the window and reach her paw out to me when I get up to do something and then she'll jump down and start staring at me. Other times she'll start climbing on me. Now she's sitting on my right foot which means she's really ticked and wants me to go to bed.

Houseapes need to listen to their feline overlords.

Just testing one or two things.

☽
☾