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Bidet Week continues at sweasel.com

weasel bidet

Hey, this graphical thingie came in handy quicker than expected.

Yes, it’s a year today since I first posted on WordPress. I paid them $15 for the ability to edit my stylesheet, and that expired yesterday. I don’t know if that simply means I can’t edit the CSS any more, or if they’ll actively remove the changes I made and revert it to a default template.

For those who don’t know from stylesheets, CSS controls everything about the look of a site: font size and style, number of columns, color scheme…the lot. If they blow up my customizations, it’s going to get real ugly. So far nothing’s changed.

Anyhoo! I started the original site as a distraction before a trip to the UK. I’m a pretty good traveler, but I worry excessively beforehand. Nothing like a big wet sloppy pile of HTML to occupy the brain.

Several months later, in the face of no demand whatsoever and dismal traffic, I bought the domain sweasel.com. And the rest, as they say, is footnote.

I’ve learned a lot in the past year. I’ve learned that leaving a Plymouth Belvedere in a pit for fifty years is a Very Bad Idea. I’ve learned that boobies drive traffic but cats kill it. I’ve learned that I’m a girl.

No, wait…you learned that. I pretty much knew it already.

But mostly, I’ve learned to pull posts out of my ass. One every weekday. Sometimes in the wee hours, when I could barely focus or summon the will to touch-type and just flailed away with my elbows. Sometimes at work, because let’s face it: I’m salaried. Sometimes in that brief, frantic period between the evening commute and the moment the vodka hits my frontal lobes and I start hanging all over you, blubbering about what wunnerful, wunnerful people you are and what a lucky, lucky girl I am and heylissen thur playn Our Song.

Together, we’ve written booger haiku and and poems about Peanut Lady Fuck. We’ve swapped recipes and old family stories and supernumery nipples. We’ve shared and, I’d like to think, grown together just a little.

So here’s to the next twelve months of sweasel.com!

Or not. Whatever.

sock it to me

Comments


Comment from Dawn
Time: October 1, 2007, 1:04 pm

Crappy Birthday sweasel dot com!

 


Comment from porknbean
Time: October 1, 2007, 1:32 pm

*raises glass of Welches grape juice*

Here, here!

 


Comment from Gibby Haynes
Time: October 1, 2007, 1:42 pm

Shit, I missed the tits. Story of my goddamned life.

*raises glass of early-morning-smaple-looking green tea*

Here’s to the next year of black-and-white, weasel-centric stuff.

 


Comment from Judy Blume
Time: October 1, 2007, 2:19 pm

I’ve learned that I’m a girl.
You will soon be feeling feeling you’ve never felt before. A flowering.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 1, 2007, 3:32 pm

Here’s to you!

*looks for meds bottle. Doesn’t find it. Grabs tootsie roll instead. Finds it is a empty wrapper. Gives up in disgust. Forgets what he was doing.*

Here’s to you!

 


Comment from Enas Yorl
Time: October 1, 2007, 3:33 pm

Wow! It’s been a year already? Happy blog-birthday!

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 1, 2007, 4:17 pm

Ow. I just re-read my first ever post and realized I referred to Stoaty as “him.” I thought I’d maintained rigorous gender non-commitalness from the beginning, but I guess not.

That explains the cigar.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 1, 2007, 5:03 pm

Him is a pronoun
Her tried like hell to avoid.
Blew it right up front!

Maroons had a clue
from the first delicate post
But remained clueless.

 


Comment from Lokki
Time: October 1, 2007, 5:12 pm

There once was a young girl named S.Weasel
who used her blog as a veritable devil’s easel
She posted strange anecdotes,and male-looking stoats
and ‘facts’ that were generally unbelievable.

From one American to a fellow merkin – May your blog live long and your beard never fail you! Happy – B Day S. (May I call you S?) and good night Mrs. Calabash, where ever you are.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 1, 2007, 6:14 pm

Actually, I guess us maroons didn’t have a clue right up front. I seem to be confused again. But that’s ok!

A blog, one year older today,
Was a-celebrating! Hip hip hurray!
With a limerick by Lokki
bad haiku by Steamboat-y
And lightening stayed quite well away!

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 1, 2007, 6:19 pm

Lightning. Mrff!

Trying to work in
“Lightning shot out of his ass”
Somehow and somewhere.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 1, 2007, 6:23 pm

You guys are affecting my brain. I saw a news article about a man named Gorrange this week, and all I could think was, “at last! A rhyme for orange!”

 


Comment from Enas Yorl
Time: October 1, 2007, 6:29 pm

For your blog-birthday I gift you with weasle lore: Weasel Hair Brushes.

 


Comment from Enas Yorl
Time: October 1, 2007, 6:31 pm

D’oh! I messed up the link. Let’s try this again.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 1, 2007, 6:42 pm

Is that the same hair they use in merkins?

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 1, 2007, 6:44 pm

Kolinsky! I paid $130 in 1978 for a fine sable brush. I was living on ramen, five for a buck, at the time. It’s a beaut. Must be upstairs somewhere. As it turns out, that’s not the sort of watercoloring I do, but it’s a joy to rub against your cheek.

Handprint.com. That’s one of the many browser windows I found open the other morning and I don’t know how I got there. Is that linked off your place, Enas?

 


Comment from Enas Yorl
Time: October 1, 2007, 7:18 pm

It is! That guy put a ton of work in researching watercolor painting and related materials. I was reading up on the brushes section the other day and thought of you when reading about the kolinsky sable stuff.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 1, 2007, 7:51 pm

Made from the tip tail hairs of the Russian kolinsky. Proper brushes are never trimmed, they’re shaped by hand in little cups, tied off with thread just before the thickest, middlest part of the hair (the ‘belly’) and clamped at that point in a metal ferrule. So the hairs of a brush are twice as long as what’s visible. Unless they’re properly made, like this, watercolor brushes lack ‘snap’.

After years and I don’t know how much money spent on fine watercolor brushes, I finally came to the conclusion I do just as well with cheap synthetics, with the techniques I use.

Very interesting site. No, wait…very thorough site with a lot of good information. His delivery is a tad dry.

 


Comment from iamfelix
Time: October 1, 2007, 9:45 pm

Happy bidet, Stoaty! I hope it’s another year, and then many many more after that.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 1, 2007, 10:01 pm

Awww…hey, Felix. Good to see your head pop over the parapet!

 


Comment from Former Lurker
Time: October 2, 2007, 6:48 am

As a latecomer to this particularly party, all I can say is I’m glad you’re around to help while away the hours of the midnight shift…

Happy Birthday!

 


Comment from Dave in Texas
Time: October 2, 2007, 10:42 am

I believe you get a pass on the gender thing from Mr. Mark Twain, from his commentary on “English As She is Spoke”.

“Nobody can add to the absurdity of this blog, nobody can imitate it successfully, nobody can hope to produce its fellow; it is perfect”

 


Comment from Lokki
Time: October 2, 2007, 11:37 am

Yeah, what Dave said.

This blog is the duck-billed platypus of blogs.

Well put.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 2, 2007, 12:04 pm

Excellent! The platypus is a monotreme, which means “one hole.” YOU work it out.

Incidentally, it might help to know Brits (or at least my Brit) pronounce “bidet” “BEEday” rather than “biDAY.”

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 2, 2007, 3:17 pm

“one hole.”

Y’know, I’d just today resolved to clean up my language and act a bit. Then you run that dab of info past me.

The evoked imagery is gonna be with me. All. Day. Long.

It puggles the mind.

 


Comment from Enas Yorl
Time: October 2, 2007, 4:30 pm

One hole – that’s taking multi-tasking way too far. It ain’t right I tell you.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 2, 2007, 6:13 pm

Eggses.

That is an egg chute. A eggses exit, if you will permit me a small bon mot.

Plat’s plop eggses.

And that ain’t right either.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: October 2, 2007, 6:28 pm

They have a different hole for eating, if that makes you feel any better.

 


Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: October 2, 2007, 6:56 pm

What?

Oh. So they really do have….two.

Well, I feel a lot more comfortable now. The idea of them plopping eggses from their pie-holes really bothered me.

 


Comment from Muslihoon
Time: October 4, 2007, 7:22 pm

Regarding toilets and bidets, have a blast: I Wanna Be Like Osama. (The performer looks Semitic; can’t tell if he’s an Arab or a Jew.)

 

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