sweasel.com

I just got Google hits from “fuck the yankee blue jeans” (rank #60) and “assfixation” (rank #53. Thank you, jwpaine).

You have to wonder at the single-mindedness of people who page through six Google screens hitting links.

What? You should be #2 (after PB) in “@sspats”. better check.

A (mumble, mumble, finger, thumb, finger) 17:1 comment-to-post ratio ain’t too bad at all, though!

…and – oh! – the things I would do to spammers! Terrible things. Non-euclidian things, hinting at otherworldly angles and planes and dimensions.

You know….really vulgar things involving orifices and sharp objects. And pain. And Habanero sauce.

*Breaks out the good grog*

A crafty old weasel did once
Create a fair place for odd stunts
Said he, “it is done;
Let the dumb suckers come.”
And quite soon it brought him forth grunts.

Said we to the weasel, “Hey, neat!
We’ve found your sweet weasel retreat!
Let us worm our way in,
And the fun shall begin.”
Stage one of the plan was complete.

“My friends,” said the weasel to we,
“This partnership is meant to be.
We’ve strength in our union;
Let’s cause some confusion!”
And we brought forth chaos with glee.

With McGoo sailing our steamboat fair,
The blog sailed along without care.
Though the spam oft attacked,
WordPress smartly whacked,
Any ne’er-do-wells it found there.

With crewman like brass knob McGoo,
And JWPaine aboard too,
It’s no wonder our craft,
Was a rightly sought raft.
Famous bard Google sings of you!

So shiver your timbers me mates,
And open the weaselly gates,
For those hapless old chaps,
Who fall in your traps.
For comments our shrewd cap’n waits!

Arrrh… this be some mighty fine bloggin’ I be readin’ today, cap’n. Took me a while to catch up, it did. >=)

Steam: the haloscan commenting at PB (where most occurrences of @sspats will be found) is hosted by haloscan itself, hence, no basking in the glow of @sspat-glory for PB. On the other hand, @sspats are mentioned here a bunch. @sspats!

Weez: @sspatting aside, are you sure it isn’t the sweet, sweet smell of booger haiku?

Is it Talk Like A Pirate Day already? How time flies. Great poemistry there, Shuko!

Outstanding effort, Shuku! @sspats to ya!

jw, Well you SHOULD get credit for such an outstanding term. The idea is worth significant @sspat-tery.

Ya know, an unscrupulous commenter ( @asspat ) could “salt the mine” so-to-speak ( @asspat ) and bump up Weasel’s site to its ( deserved @sspat )proper position in the @sspat rankings.

Naaa. @sspat. It’ll never happen.

…and I think it was the Islamic Rage Boy poems. Although that 1957 car tomb was pretty neat.

The good ol’ days….

My google refuses to recognize @sspat, even when I put it in quotes. It did tell me what the acronym sspat stood for. Space Systems Performance Analysis Tool. Neat.

Dawn, you could be onto something.

A secret word. One that doesn’t show up on web scanning ‘bots.

We could found the Society of the Secret @sspat.

Call it the SS@

Hmmm….”ess-ess-at” has a certain ring to it.

Do we get a secret handshake? 😉

Sadly, sspat.com is taken. It appears to be a firm of Korean patent lawyers.

“The time has come,” the Weasel said,
“To talk of many things:
Of pancakes–and my cats–and Belvederes–
Of pogo sticks –and springs–
And why the English tea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”

Shuko and old Gnus
Were blogging hand to hand;
But they wept like anything to see
Such quantities of spam:
“If this were only filtered away,”
They said, “it would be grand!”

“If seven maids with seven hoses
hosed it down for half a year.
Do you suppose,” JW said,
“That they could get it clear?”
“I doubt it,” said Enas Yorl,
And shed a bitter tear.

“Oh Akismet, come and clean it up!”
Weasel did so fret.
“This Viagra spam , This Nigerian scam,
are as gritty as it gets:
We cannot delete all this sheet,
Even if we use both hands

But wait a bit,” the minions cried,
“Before you clean up our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!”
“No hurry!” said Steamboat McGoo
They thanked him much for that.

“Wait!Don’t ban us!” the Spammers cried,
Turning a little bit more blue.
“After so many gratis hits to your site, that would be
A dismal thing to do!”
“The filter chow is mighty fine,” Weasel said.

“And you’ll admire the view”
“It was so kind of you to come!
But you are very gross!”
Steamboat McGoo said nothing but
“pour me another dose:
I wish Tattooed Intellectual were not quite so deaf–
I’ve had to ask him twice!”

Soon the wit was glimmering on Weasel’s blog,
And glimmering all night:
While Akismet cleaned out the spam and made
The posting smooth and bright–
And best of all, Akismet thought, it got to lock
Lokki in the filter every night.

Sigh; my best effort is a plagarism of some dead poet, while Shuko just makes it up as he goes along. How is a guy who’s basically a booger Haiku guy supposed to compete with real poets who can rhyme up stuff like “your sweet weasel retreat” out of thin air?

Life ain’t fair, I tell ya. Pass the Valu-Rite, please

Lokki – you expressed what I was unable to say. Shuku does it so much better than me. Rats.

I saw that sspat.com thingy, Weas. Almost commented on it but the phone rang. The shinsung patent & law firm or sumpin. I figured chinese. So its korean. Meh. Whatever.

It is interesting that @sspat won’t google or yahoo.

Dawn – ours is a secret butt-pat. But you must never do it in public, or to another member. Its too secret. Even jw has never actually seen the SS@ @sspat.

As soon as Weasel finds it he’ll show the decoder ring.

I think Shuko is a girl. That makes the booger haiku even sweeter.

that came out all wrong

Ditto, Dawn. Shuku=girl I believe.

Not gonna touch the booger thing.

Ew…that came out wrong, too.

Hey…did anyone notice that

SS@ @sspat

looks like two li’l eyes, watching you. Spying on you.

Waiting…

I have no idea what that means, but I’m sure something amusing can be made of it, and that it’ll probably be wrong.

looks like ceiling cat to me

Not that anyone gives a ripe, succulent shit, but I will be out of town for the next 2 days (thurs&fri) trying to pry some property-owners (An asset management corp. Geez!) off their dead asses and get them to agree to a price.

I have to say that I consider it exquisitely rude of them to be squatting on property I happen to want.

@sspats to all.

Good luck with the property, McGoo. Tell them if they don’t hurry up and sell it to you, you’ll burn it down.

That should work.

For those of you who don’t read Ace, you can click here to have some pr0n chick moan your IP address at you. I’d call it not safe for work.

Lol. I’m a girl; it’s true. And trust me; these things don’t just come out of thin air. xD I often spend a minute or more coming up with an appropriately rhyming word, and then I have to build the lines around it. :p It’s limiting and challenging, and that’s why I enjoy it.

Booger haiku are pretty tasty little tidbits, but for me, limericks are the real smörgåsbord. xD And to be fair, I’ve seen a fair amount of Lokki’s and McGoo’s stuff that puts my sparse bits of rhyme to shame. :3

And McGoo, I find it helpful that when the boogers come out wrong, it’s better to give an extra hearty blow or two. :3

*sniff*
Did someone put something in the toaster because I smell toast and it wasn’t me. I’m either having a stroke or something is starting to burn. hmmmmmm……..must go investigate..

That happened to me yesterday. There’s a place in my house I’ve been smelling hot wiring. For twenty years. It’s a very scary smell, but I have to remind myself that fires don’t smoulder for two decades.

Then I think about Gershwin’s brain tumor, which first manifested itself in his perception of the smell of burning rubber.

Burning rubber, eh? Of all things for a brain tumor to make itself known by. (Have you noticed that skunk juice smells a lot like burning rubber?) The least it could do is smell like a cookie or make it’s host psychic.

For my part, I walked through the house and other than the foul odor emanating from the dirty pile of pulsating laundry on my son’s bedroom floor, all is well. No brain tumor or stroke today either. I had bread (untoasted) earlier and haven’t washed my hands – so maybe the smell transferred to my face as I gnawed on a hangnail? Or maybe I picked up a scent from the neighbors house? Who knows, so long as the house isn’t cooking.

I have a keen sense of smell and the husband always asks if I want to go hunting with him…
Case in point: If someone visits while I’m out, I can always tell. They leave a smell print. Or when the kids get strep throat. Or when the husband eats out at lunch.

This does not bode well for my chirrens if they fall in with the wrong crowd or ‘experiment’.

Oh, and the strep throat thing? I smelled it before they felt any pain.

Okay, that’s creepy. On the upside, you could hire out as one of those melanoma-sniffing dogs…

There’s no business like nose business, like no business I know
Everything about it is revealing, everything that schnozzola will allow
Nowhere could you get your head so reeling as when you are smelling that dead cow!

Lokki thinks:

I kill myself and it’s probably a smart thing to do, before someone else does it

<squints into the sunset and wonders why Akismet doesn’t seem to hate Lokki any more>

I bought Akismet drinks….. he’s a pretty funny guy when you get to know him. Hears all the good jokes, you understand…..

Maybe Akismet is the thing decaying in your walls.
I would question Lokki his whereabouts about the time Akismet disappeared on him.

Sigh, why do all my posts all come back to the same thing eventually?

I didn’t do Nuthin’! Nuthin! I was framed!