sweasel.com

Ah, sweet freedom.

Whither must a minion wander?

Aw, screw it. I like it here.

Yay! Ha, I knew you were saner than the other “dudes.” 😉

I so don’t blame you for going undercover, though–you’re absolutely right about the innertubes silly shit. I’ve thought many times about reinventing myself online for that reason.

It would be interesting, Weas’, if you could do a Top Ten Things That Are Different About Being Perceived As A Male Poster/Blogger On The Net article. I’d be facinated. I could (I think) anticipate a few of the differences, but not all by any stretch.

For instance, how did you keep your co-workers from posting your secret – or boo-booing inadvertently? Or did they even know the name of your blog?

….And I’m not gonna clean up my act just ’cause you’re a girl, Weas! Screw that!

It’s 2:30 in the AM. Isaac’s serving opiates on the promenade deck. (ref -anyone? Hee hee!)

*jaw drop*

Me and umption feel like asses.

Captain Stubbing – Issac! Reefer is not an opiate. Check with Doc, he’s always good for a few stray Vicodin.

Many jaws are on the floor this fine day, Pup! I’m fearing that the site will get all frilly and pink now. Just teasing, Weas! Near as I can tell, nothing has to change the slightest bit – least of all my language.

Pup – “ref” meant “reference” as in what movie, video, or animation did the line “Isaac is serving opiates on the promenade deck!” come from. Sorry for being obscure. My phase angle with reality was non-zero at the time I wrote it.

“But I’m all better now.” -movie reference?-

This revelation deserves many , many comments so here goes.

Who cares? (say this aloud 3 times. sarcastically. mean it at least 2 times)

Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure. It’s not beyond measure here but so durn close as to be indiscernible to the casual observer.

When drowning in a sea of snack munching TV addicts, do you check to see if the hand saving you has fingernail polish?

There’s probably more but the coffee is brewing and therefore outside of me where it does no good. Long night, early morning and an Actifed hangover.

And nowhere else on the net has a picture of a weasel in a tutu. I know. I’ve looked. Oh how I’ve looked!

So, Sweasel, you’re a chick. Yawn.

Does this mean that when yer all hip hippin’ and cheerioing and all that brit stuff we’ll have to refer to ya as Dame Weasel? That’d be kinda cool.

Except DWeasel is too close to Dweezil, so you’d have to be a Zappa.

Or something. It’s been a long day already.

Whoa, check it out! Traffic! On a Sunday! I ought to confess to something every week.

Next week: I’m blue/green colorblind!

(ummm….at least, I really dislike greenish turquoise).

I, for one, refuse to believe it. You sent your sister, didn’t you.

You know, with weasels, it doesn’t make a whole lot of difference. There are no secondary sexual characteristics. And the primary ones? Covered in silky fur. Like God intended.

Next thing ya know, Weasel will confess to being a Liberal.

“Next week: I’m blue/green colorblind!” -Weasel-

Reminds me of the kid I knew in gradeschool who decided that -whenever they showed him that speckled colorblindness chart- he’d always say he saw “87” or “hotdog” or something ridiculous. He got out of class a lot….

Wow.

Wow.

We are speechless.

But you won’t get rid of me that easily, Dame Weasel of Massachusetts! You’re still one of my top favorites.

Now, unless my assumptions have fooled me yet again, this would explain why Your Grace and Your Grace’s beloved have not walked down the aisle of Westminster.

Even though Prince Charles’ recent wedding has made many think same-sex marriages are kosher Beyond This Pond.

And…Mus makes the big jump.

…We’re still waiting for a score from the French judge.

Well, duh. I need to manage my weight. So jumping is what I do. Better than sauntering, yes? Burns more calories.

Now whether it maketh me to fall in a pit of error and offensiveness is another matter all together.

Not that it is any of my (our) business, for that matter.

Most excellent exercise indeed.

And for the record “it” mentioned above (“not that it is…”) refers to personal business and issues of S. Weasel, Esquiress.

Stoaty! Cool! I know just what you mean … that’s how I ended up with Felix as a nom-de-cyberworld. Some aren’t sure, many assume I’m male. Better that way.

Well-played, indeed. And another terrific graphic.

(Just pleeeaaaase don’t be a secret L-word, ‘k?) 🙂

*Spits tea out* A…woman? A woman? This is an outrage! I feel duped. I’ve been had. I make a point of only reading blogs (whatever those are) penned by men. Burly, hulking, sweaty men. Men with calloused hands from manual labour who punch each other on the arm and slap each other on the back jovially. Men with so much testosterone shooting around in their blood that if you so much as look at them funny, they’ll kick your face off. Blogs like Atlas Shrugs, Michelle Malkin (named after the chap’s little lady friend, no doubt) and My Vast Right Wing Conspiracy.
Writing about silly little meaningless opinions is all well and good, but who’ll do the laundry and the cooking and keep the children out of my study when they’re home from boarding school? Hm?

Weasel, you sure know how to make a big splash. Everyone’s curiosity about Acepalooza at the moron blog has been replaced with — “Weasel is a chick?”

Heh.

Girl, huh? In that case……..

http://icanhascheezburger.com/2007/09/12/arrr-wheres-me-grog-wench/

Actually, you had me confused. I thought you could have been a dude because of your knowledge of inebriates and computers and things. Then I thought you could have been a gay dude with links to cute critter sites, admitting you watched Di’s wedding, your mother giving you a coon bone, not to mention a weasel horoscope on your side bar, and a Teletubbie clock in your cube, but then you would say something conservative that a lot of gay dudes wouldn’t….like not going for gay marriage in prison.
Never crossed my mind that you could be a girl.

BTW, the swimsuit and bow looks very cute on you.

*LOL* @Gibby!

Just pleeeaaaase don’t be a secret L-word, ‘k?

If Dame S. Weasel Massachusetts-England turns out to be a Leftist, I’m right out of here. For sure. So there.

I have no tolerance for prospective Dictatoresses of the Proletariat. (The men are horrid as it is.)

Scarecrow: Do you think if I stay here with you it would give me some brains?

Dorothy: I couldn’t say. But even if it didn’t, you’d be no worse off than you are now.

Scarecrow: Yes, that’s true.

Dorothy: But maybe you’d better not. I’ve just revealed that I’m a girl, and you might get into trouble.

Scarecrow: Girl? I’m not afraid of hanging out with a girl! . I’m not afraid of anything. Oh…except a lighted match. [indicates his straw stuffing]

Dorothy: I don’t blame you for that.

Scarecrow: But I’d face a whole box full of them for the chance of getting some brains. Look, I won’t be any trouble, because I don’t eat a thing. And I won’t try to manage things, because I can’t think.

Won’t you take me with you?

Oh, man, Lokki…you reminded me that I never put together my birthday post. I got wrecked on champagne and leftover prescription opiates and watched the Wizard of Oz for the first time in twenty-five years.

Just…damn.

I just re-read the Lucky Coon Bone post. I was pretty sure there was a claim of penis ownership therein, but I was wrong. Just a wallet-carrying mammal, with a intimate knowledge of penile euphemisms. Weasels are crafty.

Yes, I hope you appreciate that. I’ve been at this nearly a year, and I’ve never once lied. It’s been damned hard.

In fact, I thought maybe that post would be a tip-off. Guy wallets are small. Girl wallets are huge and have an external change pocket, wherein one can keep coon bones and lucky coins and spare earrings and emergency Xanax.

Cool, nice to know I’m not the only one who is mistaken for the opposite gender. Really, tattooes are not just a guy thing anymore 😛

Ms Weasel,
Now you need to post a picture of yourself.

So…you’ve found the perfect formulae for
having two sessions of famousosity ™
Heh

Ms Weasel,
Now you need to post a picture of yourself.

Er…look at the top of the thread Mr.Doctor.

S. Weasel, it was nice meeting you. And yeah, I was surprised.

Slu! I keep meaning to blogroll you, d00d! Damme for making my blogroll an awkwardly separate .php file.

But, yeah, happy to hear from people making it home in one piece. Maine? I thought you were in, like, Texas or something.

Heh. That’s the other guy.

I’m the one who looks like Fozzie. 🙂

Tattooed-I !!! NO!

Well, I will be dipped in shit.

Hmm….back in a mo’. (pitterpatterpitterpatterzziiippp)

Nope! I just checked…I’m a guy. Just as I always thought. Whew.

Yep, steamboat–sorry if that upset your apple cart 😛 Glad you double-checked to make sure everything was ok.

It’s actually gotten to be a bit of a game to see how long it takes people to figure out, and unlike Sweasel, I don’t even watch what I say/how I say stuff.

My applecart is fine – my widdle bwain stings a bit, though. Too many surprises recently.

Dawn – you’re not a guy, are you?

Now I don’t feel so bad about calling you a pussy.

I know what you mean about there being a difference though.
I’m an avid gardener, and on a particular gardening forum my hubby and I are both members.

When I posted gardening advice to others’ queries there, I was hardly ever responded to. I never thought a thing about it.

But when hubby’s screen name was still activated and I didn’t bother to sign out and sign back on as me, ‘he’ would get profuse thanks for offering ‘his’ help and many compliments on ‘his’ wit and gardening knowledge.

*two middle finger salute*

Eh, if you can’t beat ’em, fake ’em.

S. Weasel, you were the life of the party. There was always a happy crowd around you. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to hang out more.

Huh.

You coulda fooled me.

Oh wait, you did!

Nevermind then.

Pssstttt…Stoaty, the Sandmonkey is back
and posting. Heh ™

To all to whom these Presents shall come or whom the same may in any way concern, GREETING:

By the authority vested in me by, er, me according to the universe as understood and dictated by, um, me, I hereby dub you:
Her Grace WEASEL, THE DUCHESS (OF) ESSEX,

And dub Your Grace’s partner:
The Most Honourable WEASEL, THE MARQUESS (OF) WESSEX.

*Bowtsy*

“Dame” is an entirely unsuitable title with regard to honours. It is given to the female equivalent of a knight, and while an honour is not a peerage. “Duchess of Essex” is an honour and a peerage. Thus, unless she has other titles that entitle her to it, “Dame” is not normally followed by a title. So you could be “Dame Weasel”, but what fun is there in not having a realm to lord over?

There is, currently no Duchess or Duke of Essex; there is no Marquess of Wessex either. I created these titles just for you!

I chose “Wessex” because it suggested a country environment, which is where I think you will be relocating to. In its day, it was a significant area. And it fits the title, being on borders as it is. I chose “Essex” because I wanted something that demonstrated a link with New England. Essex, I believe, is close to Cambridge, which evokes Boston, where you are. I was going to dub you Duchess of Massachusetts or Boston, but as Boston was a center for the American revolution, I thought it might be inappropriate to use it for a peerage, linked to an English one at that.

I could have made you Duchess of York — King Charles I gave New England to his brother James, Duke of York, who would later become King James II — but it might have still been a little inappropriate.

Unless, of course, Your Grace’s partner is Prince Andrew, Duke of York (current holder of the title), in which case Your Grace would become Duchess of York once Your Grace becomes his consort. But I have a feeling you don’t want to compete with the memory and example of Fergie were this even the case.

This is the problem with you English-ish folks. I either want to mock you or ennoble you.

And if you do walk down the aisle, you can become Their Grace the Duchess and Marquess Weasel of Essex-Wessex (The Duchess Essex-Wessex and The Marquess Essex-Wessex).

That’s a lot of sex.

I know, Lauraw. You get treated totally differently if you’re recognizably female. And it pisses me off. Incidentally, somebody (and I sincerely forget who) leaned over to me Saturday and said, “that Lauraw is an improbably nice-looking woman.” I think the unspoken part of that sentence was, “for an internet-type person.” People were pretty disappointed about the hump, though.

Musli: Sussex. But it’s a big county, so nobody try to find me. Because I may have to dump my real guns before I go, but I’m buying air guns when I get over there. And BB’s don’t half sting! In fact, I could probably put an eye out!

There are certain parcels of land that come with a title. There was one up for sale a few years ago. It was like a 1×1 yard piece of land for £10K, but if you bought it you got to be “Lord and Lady” So-and-so. I wanted it, but my other half said no 🙁

And while I’m just blurting shit out all over the place…my other half is the occasional poster Uncle Badger. He called me “Mr Weasel” the other day on here. And I’m like, “dude! You called me ‘Mr Weasel’!” And he’s like, “Heh. Yeah. All the cool kids are doing it.”

Okay, that’s it. I don’t think I have anything else to confess.

I’ve only been to Essex once and it was to stop at a service station in Braintree on the way back from a long weekend/short week in Barcelona by coach (do not ever go anywhere, ever, for journeys longer than an hour or so, by coach – trust me). Apparently, Essex is the richest county in England (and thus the UK) and is mostly inhabited by white, upper-middle-class-type people, but for me and the majority of the rest of the country, when we think of Essex – deservedly or not – we think of Chavs and Essex Girls.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Essex_girl

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chav

http://www.yusef.co.uk/chav.JPG

Three links. That earned you an all-expense-paid trip to the spam filter. Luckily, I’m up untimely early, and bored.

What the hell is the matter with the internet lately? Dang, it’s slow.

I was wondering how Gibby managed those three links.

Uncle Badger is your S.O.?

OK. Save any more revalations until next week. You. UB. Tattooed-I. I can’t take any more.

Lord & Lady Stoat has a nice ring to it. You’re home could be Stoatly Manor. Stoatly on Sussex.

Who cares? I love your site! You could, in my opinion, actually be a weasel and that would be fine with me. In fact, I’m a little disappointed that you’re not. Oh, well…

Ugh!

Outed!

And who said Her Ladyship isn’t a weasel?

I mean, I eat worms and live down a hole, after all…

Whoops, I’m sorry (about the more than one link snafu). I did read the notice, several times in fact, but when I got to the ‘ass porn’ bit I must’ve lost my train of thought or something.
Speaking of badgers:http://www.badgerbadgerbadger.com/
(yeah, it’s old – so shoot me)

Meh. Over the years, I’ve developed a resistance to cooties. So you’re not gonna scare me off with your girliness. I enjoy your writing style, sense of humor and general geekiness too much to be run off.

Just keep the posts coming.

Gibby –

If you’re going to spend time in the filter – remember the freakin’ basics next time- OK?

1. Lots of smokes, even if you don’t smoke ’em yourself, they’re good for making friends, and sometimes, even the top bunk.(Expensive but WORTH it!).

2. Extra pair of socks. Good for tying together to make eye shades (they never turn out that demn’d light) – nice to have dry socks after a day to wear for that matter; and you can even use the old ones for TP in a pinch.

(Yeah, I know, but if you’re gonna post 3 links, you’re gonna spend time in the filter, so ya better learn.

3.Package of Benadryl – great for getting some zzzz’s after you’re tuckered out from the singing and dancing!)

4. A small gift, of some great value, for Akismet. Always, always,always.

5. Mention my name to Akismet. If he smiles, tell him that you know me! If he frowns or starts to shake, tell him that you hate me too!

6. Two sets of those little foam ear plugs. One set for your ears, and the other for your nose (You can’t smell through your mouth, see?).

OK? Got it? See ya Friday night!

S. Weasel sez:

You get treated totally differently if you’re recognizably female. And it pisses me off.

The lovely Sarah D. has said the same of some online MUD that she used to frequent: if she arrived with a recognizably female nic, nobody would play with her (“But Mama! Nobody wants to play with a girl!). But when she returned with a male Klingon nic, she became a very popular player.

Me, myself, and the other guy with us started working professionally with wimmins in our mid-teens, so perhaps its that I’ve become more accustomed at an earlier age to enjoying their companies…they’re not as catty as men, they smell better, and generally look nicer too. Where’s the downside?

I do have to confess though, to treating the lovely Sarah D. a little different in person than on the Innertubes. Which I suppose is one reason she is also Mrs. EW1 these days.

Badgers and Weasels, Oh My!
🙂

An’ Steamboat McGoo said:

OK. Save any more revalations until next week. You. UB. Tattooed-I. I can’t take any more.

Hmmph. Only t’ing odd about TI is that she cuts the average age of the posters over t’ GCP nearly in half!

Talk o’ yer precocious whippersnappers. Heh™.

It happens in different ways, EW. There’s no doubt being female often worked to my advantage in the early days of the ‘net when there were proportionately FAR fewer women online. I’d automatically get invited to the members-only section of Bulletin Boards, for example (remember the members-only part, where they kept the illegally copied warez?)

In political discussion forums, though, it’s no fun. Politics is a fists-and-elbows sport. Some guys are genuinely too nice to argue full-on with a woman. Some decide they are too gentlemanly to argue minutes after you’ve totally kicked their rhetorical asses.

And some are just…creepy. I mean, guys tell each other to go fuck themselves all the time. But some guys will tell a woman exactly how to do it…and what she should be wearing when she does it, and what it would probably sound like, and how much she’s likely enjoy it. A for effort, F for really scaring the hell out of me.

Oh! And badgers and weasels are cousins (look, I’m from the South, okay?). Also wolverines, fisher cats, otters and minks. But skunks have recently been moved out into their own family, Mephitidae, on account of their especially pungent anal glands. Mustelids have a somewhat weaker version for sexual signaling and territory marking.

TMI, but just letting you know…you probably shouldn’t accept a luncheon invitation.

I am so glad you revealed your true self before you told us of your relationship with Badger. The visuals are much nicer now. I am envisioning a spring wedding in Narnia instead of well…
ass porn.

Dang! I go off the interwebberytubes for a weekend to play xbox and look what happens! Now I really feel goofy for calling you “Mr. Weasel” all this time. Oh well. I’m glad everyone had a good time at the party.

Never mind. You gave countless minutes of pleasure to Uncle Badger, who sniggered happily every time somebody called me “Mr” or “dude.”

How was the Lasvegaspalooza? Did you guys get together as planned?

It would be fun to swap stories of when we thought weasel was the gayest. Sweasel told me she loved Chinese fabric. I thought to myself, “Really, you love Chinese textiles – How GAY?” I should have figured it out sooner.

Thats not until sometime in October, if at all. I tried to get some interest in it over at IB, but then Michael hijacked the idea for a superbowl party at his place and everybody stopped talking about LV. I’ll try again now that the date is a little closer.

From S. Weasel:

And some are just…creepy.

Yuck. Sarah and I have had our fill of creepy the last couple of years, so I gotsa purty good idea of what you mean.

Oh! And badgers and weasels are cousins (look, I’m from the South, okay?).

Precisely. Though how a Southern mustelid hooks up with a British cousin should prolly be be a classic along the lines of Gone With The Otters.

TMI, but just letting you know…you probably shouldn’t accept a luncheon invitation.

I married a woman who gives owl pellets as Christmas gifts. ‘Nuff said.

I thought Her Grace was a gay guy from the get go. The ambiguity made me doubt. And then something…I don’t know what…seemed to suggest to me that Her Grace was straight (to which I assumed a straight man). And so I imagined the “male Weasel” (S. Weasel in my mind) to be quite effeminate yet straight. Which is entirely possible. (See: Seacrest, Ryan.)

I am glad that not only does The Marquess of Wessex read this blog, he comments hereon too.

Holy beans! Yeah, you’ve got an awesome future post about this experiment, Weas.

For me, I get the opposite from those not versed in the menagerie of Randian thugs. Apparently, Cuffy is a frilly chick handle… I’m a dude, dudes!

Oh, and about:

Politics is a fists-and-elbows sport. Some guys are genuinely too nice to argue full-on with a woman. Some decide they are too gentlemanly to argue minutes after you’ve totally kicked their rhetorical asses.

The only problem I have with argying politics wit’ you is we’re on the same side! Kinda’ like kissing yer sister…er, uh, yer brother…uh, well one of them! anyway.

OTOH, one of my folk heroes is Professor Robert Dewar, an argumentarian first class (in that Limey sense,)who I’ve seen decide which side to argue based on a coin toss. So, if you need a foil, I’m sure I have a rapier to hand somewhere near.

I never really care what gender a blogger is, since it’s their ideas and not their appearance or person we deal with. I’m sure you are a slinky, pretty girl weasel though.

This… this doesn’t change things does it? o_o You’ll still be the sometimes-smarmy, often giggle-worthy blogger as always, right S.Weasel? I’m not gender-preferenced in my humor, but I’m having trouble figuring out just how big of a revelation this is supposed to be. xD

In other news, I saw an episode of I.M. Weasel on TV the other day. :p There’s too many darn weasel references in society for me to forget this place. ^_^

Suko: of I. R. Babboon fame? Gosh, I miss that show.

Thanks for the advice Anonymous. I’ll hit the ground running next time.

So Stoaty, did you ever run one of your posts through that online text analyzer that tells you whether the writer was male or female? I always end up with male. Oh well.

BGG, did I find that link at your site? Because yes, I did…and yes, it said I was male.

Weird thing, if y’all haven’t seen it. It’s not analyzing swear words or anything…but stuff like active versus passive tenses. And use of some very strange words you wouldn’t think would be implicated in anything.

Yes, I did have it posted somewhere. It’s the Gender Genie.

Now that I know by what you are called, Partner of Her Grace, I amend your title (style? honour?) to The Most Honourable Uncle Badger, The Marquess of Wessex. Or Uncle Badger, Marquess Wessex. Or Lord Wessex. Whatever.

One of these days, I will gift the two of you Sussex. Duke, Marquess, Earl, Baron…nah, either The Duke and Duchess of Sussex or The Prince and Princess of Sussex.

Although don’t insist on using these titles in The Queen’s actual realms. My authority only extends over my pretend universe.

A chick, huh?

So…. How you doin’?

The Gender Genie is confused.

I put this post by Wickedpinto through it — http://moralauthority.wordpress.com/2007/09/17/if-mothers-ruled-the-world/

It thought WP was a female.

If that turns out to be true, I’ll be truly shocked.

If WP turns out to be a woman, I will have to just throw myself off a bridge. Because obviously I have no idea how to figure anything out about and in this universe.

I didn’t mean to yell “You’re S. Weasel?? Get the fuck outta here”! at the top of my lungs.

Hope I didn’t start any shit.

All seriousness aside, yer a sweetie and it was great to meet you. Best regards on the relocation, and yes, by yesterday evening around 6pm the headache was mostly gone.

Central time.