Friday, March 23
March 23, 2007 — 10:06 pm
Comments: 3
Watch for falling cats
Hey, look what I found in a forgotten corner of my hard drive (I clean my hard drive to relax; I’ve had a molten asshole of a day).
This was the very first placeholder graphic on my very first corner of the Web — that free meg of space ISP’s gave you. I figured out early on I could cram in much more art per byte by sticking with monochrome. Small file sizes were, of course, seriously important then.
“Then” would’ve been, maybe, 1994? I think that’s the year I first saw the Web. I had read Tim Berners-Lee’s World Wide Web concept paper via Usenet in 1990 and thought it was the dumbest thing I had ever seen. People creating content for free, and letting other people link to it? Pff! Stupid hippies!
But then, a few years later, a friend showed me the Web in action, and then I thought it was the dumbest thing I had ever seen. Seriously, the early Web was lame-o, lame-o. Until there was a certain critical mass of content, it wasn’t good for much at all. It wasn’t even that fun. And it was ugly.
Except for Find the Spam (lovingly reproduced with historic exactitude here). I thought Find the Spam was the most hysterical thing I’d ever seen in my life ever. Like, ever. Odd, though…when I laughed, dilithium crystals shot out of my nose.
Anyhow, I wish I could remember where this drawing is. I think it’s much better than it looks in this grievously squoze-down version. The odd part is…how did I get it in the computer? Monitors of the era were capable of much better graphics than you usually saw on them, because there was no way to get pictures in. It was way before digital still cameras (we had a video camera that could frame-grab; the whole setup cost around a hundred grand). I think it was before those horrible little hand scanners (remember those?). Maybe we had desktop scanners at work by then.
Cat blogging. I been doing it a long, long time.
March 22, 2007 — 5:33 pm
Comments: 4
Roseanne Barr: nuttier than a twelve-pack of shit-house rats with a side order of squirrel rectums
I idly followed a Drudge link to a NY Post article today about Roseanne Barr and thence to Roseanne’s own site. Oooohhhh…she’s been refining the crazy in those aluminum centrifuge thingies, this one.
Where Did They Go?
nobody is that interested in what happened to the busloads of refugees from Katrina…where did they go? I called my synagogue to say:” Do you know they are taking people away on trucks and buses, just like the Germans did when they “relocated” the entire Jewish population of Germany?”…but no one cared there either, and gave me that crazy old lady brush off that everyone gives you. The Rot is spreading downward more everyday. No one cares that this country is being dismantled and sold to the highest bidder piece by piece.
She brings up the idea that Katrina’s blacks were disappeared more than once. She worries about blacks a lot. Except Oprah. She doesn’t think much of Oprah. Or Romney. Mormons figure large for her.
Can We Talk About Child Abuse?
in the dream…ken mehlman is a gay jew who masterminded the anti-gay (evangelical) Christian movement. The evangelicals are headed by gay christian pedophiles. They are directly linked(through karl rove’s Utah contacts to mormon pedophiles(polygamists))…let’s start talking about child abuse folks, for real!
I don’t know if that’s a sleeping dream, or what. There was a forum. I was afraid to go there, and it eventually had to be euthanized, apparently. The link doesn’t appear on later posts.
The way a person chooses to introduce themselves is very telling in RW cyberspace. Anyone who is into calling themselves a healer, or a witch or something occult-like, I have found, (through the ten years I have had a site) is usually in fact letting it be known that they are an energy vampire, and their intention is to muffle the message I want to put forth on my site.
I am banning anyone who wants to muddle or attack my message… they need to go elsewhere. I always have put forth a certain and specific message, and despite the armies of people who have been sent by dark forces to come against the power of that message, I vow to continue, as I promised I would, at age three, when my life was saved by The Holy.
But this is not mere moonbattery. This is genuine crazy. Ye shall know it by its inconsistency. Examine these three takes on Bush, in chronological order:
Today is the first day I have ever emailed a President of the US and signed my name. I said I want him to listen to the americfan people and demand he not escalate but de escalte. His cowboy shit don’t work outside of texas. Go back to texas on your billion dollar slice of the pie. Retire and get ready to meet jesus, he is here! Hail you Jesus! You are the King Mohammed! Buddha is cute too!!! and at least he is fat!!!! My god is fat!!!! and he is a she!!!! big mama has decided to come out of the house, and onto her porch. She tells me to tell you that you better figure out a way to get along or you are all going to perish. She is pissed off like only a grandmother can get over the bickering of her brood!!!!!!!!!!!!! dagnabbit!!!
What If???
What if bush is right? What if he knows that the entire western world is at risk and only superior military force will save us?
I wish he was right, I wish democracy would come to the world too. Democracy means peaceful co-existence. Bush wants these things, I know it, I touched his hand at one time, and I can feel everything about a person when I touch their hands, and that is why I no longer shake hands with people. I have felt ugly horrific things at times from them. But, President Bush’s hand was the hand of a man who means well. I pray that the Highest Light comes to him, that he realizes that the fate of the world actually does rest on his shoulders, and that freedom and democracy, and not hatred and endless war are the legacy of the evangelicals/zionists …. (I hope bush will let god into his heart). (I hope he knows that capitalism is not the same concept as democracy).
Those three appear in fairly rapid succession. The blog only dates back to September, 2006, though she speaks of having a site for many years. Maybe the non-blog parts predate that.
She’s into the Kabbalah, but her version seems to have chakras and Jesus and goddesses in it. She believes we have created “chickens that have no heads, and only are egg producing ovary bags hooked to egg retrieving machines in the biological pharming industries.” She believes Jimmy Carter is the greatest president, ever. She believes Republican leaders are all closeted gays and that WWWIII will be the War over Water (mark my words, water is going to be the next big lefty cause when Global Whotsit finally bites the dust). She has moments of towering messianic hyperego and moments of humility.
If you’re a connoiseur of teh crazy, you’re going to love this thing. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll…oh, just hit the link.
March 20, 2007 — 5:04 pm
Comments: 20
Things are looking Monday all over
Hello, imaginary people who live in my computer. How are you today? You’re like those damn sea monkeys, aren’t you? If I don’t feed you…well, the less said about those damn sea monkeys the better, hm? Okay!
St Paddy’s day eve, I got up in the night to drain the weasel and somehow slipped and fell. Falling down under the influence of strong drink is a painful thing. Landing asswards on a ceramic tile floor, more painful still. Perhaps most painful of all, however, comes the following morning, twisting and craning to view a sad, middle-aged left butt-cheek in the medicine cabinet mirror.
Is it visibly bruised? Begorrah, it is not.
Oh, hell. I’m not even Irish.
So I needed a new mop head. Yes, I’m changing the subject. This has nothing to do with my buttcheek or my drinking problem or anything. When I got to the supermarket, I was blindsided; there were like a dozen different kinds! What brand and size is mine? I have no idea. There’s no writing on my mop at all. It’s got two sticky-outy things where the head goes, and that’s all I know.
Damn you mop makers and your confusing mop monopolies!
I almost bought a whole new mop, but I had a feeling I’d done that before. I had a feeling a lot of people do that and the whole stupid issue might be quite deliberate, and that pissed me right off. So I bought a mop head and a roll of duct tape.
Yes I did.
And, no, it didn’t fit (the two sticky-outy things were about a millimeter too far apart and too short), but the duct tape worked fine. Remember, the tape doesn’t have to stick to a wet mop; it only has to stick to itself. And there’s nothing tape sticks to better than itself.
While I was in the supermarket, I spotted a woman buying something that looked like a cyprus knee.
“How the heck do you cook that?” I said, because I’m one of those annoying people who strikes up a conversation with anyone, anywhere.
She looked at me blankly a moment and said, “No speak English.”
Look, I won’t go into the whole immigration thing just now. But, would you immigration officers or social workers or whoever primes newcomers before releasing them into the wild do me a big fat favor? Teach them to say, “I don’t speak English.” Okay? It’s just one more syllable than “no speak English,” and it at least gives the impression they’re trying to understand how complete sentences work in their new home.
So (changing the subject again) somebody in my area got fired this afternoon. Not the good kind of fired, where you get severance pay and a letter of recommendation and a cake in the break room. The bad kind of fired, where you show up in the morning with your Dunkin’ Donuts medium light no sugar, and leave in the afternoon with all your stuff in a box, escorted by Security. All’s we know is, he did Something Bad with the network.
And I’m, like, “something bad like…oh, I dunno…blogging?”
Nobody knows. Just…Something Bad. So, until I find out more, it’s early mornings or late evenings for me.
And I swear to god, if I find you guys floating around on the top of this blog not moving, I’m not going to cry this time. I’m just not.
March 19, 2007 — 5:17 pm
Comments: 7
Friday, March 16
March 16, 2007 — 3:17 pm
Comments: 7
Friday, March 09
March 9, 2007 — 4:24 pm
Comments: 7
Eeee! My first celebrity endorsement
Many thanks to Pirate Ballerina for drawing attention to an humble weasel yesterday. PB is the blog for all things Ward Churchill (not fired yet!). Plus, related ethnic studies, fake indians and sock-puppetry. It’s been a favorite read of mine for some time.
Update: seeing Sissy in my logs reminded me that PB is my second celebrity endorsement. Sisu was the first. Good heavens — wouldn’t want to diss the furballs.
March 6, 2007 — 6:32 pm
Comments: 1
Friday, March 02
March 2, 2007 — 5:09 pm
Comments: 13
A message from Weasel’s liver: I’m okay. Really.
My mother used to say, “all I have to do is tell you not to put molasses on the cat, and they next thing I know, you’ll be putting molasses on the cat.” Then, really, the best thing she could do was stop telling me not to, don’t you think? Sticky, sticky cats. So in honor of this thread at Ace’s — the one about how people who blog their personal lives are rewarded with very low traffic — I’m going to tell you about my trip to the doctor.
It’s annual physical time. Yes, that glorious day of the year when my middle-aged nakedness is examined up close and in detail by a stranger with boundary issues. My doctor is an elderly Jewish man. That was quite deliberate on my part. I couldn’t bear to have some young smartass sticking shiny chrome instruments where metal objects Do Not Belong and hectoring me to eat more green leafies. (And the Jew part? Smart enough to run the world, smart enough to manage my hypertension. ‘Nuff said).
It looks like my strategy of living on vodka and cocktail shrimp is paying off. My good cholesterol is now so freakishly high, he’s pretty sure my heart is incapable of stopping. After I blow the brain aneurism, they’re going to have to cut my heart out and whack it with a broom to calm it down a little.
We’ve got a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy about alcohol. At least, as long as my liver numbers are good. And my liver numbers are excellent, thankyouverymuch. In fact, ALL my numbers are smack in the middle of the dial. I ran right out and had a roast beef and cheese sub with sweet potato fries.
What I’m going to do when old Doc Jew retires and I have to see some impertinent puppy who doesn’t know the difference between a physician and a celebrity lifestyle coach, I do not know. Whip out the Mighty Heart of Weasel and smack him with it, I suppose.
There. Because it doesn’t matter what anybody says, I know you care.
February 28, 2007 — 5:38 pm
Comments: 8
Here’s something cute. Now fuck off.
Damien at about ten weeks. Click the photo to see the big color hardcore Cat Lady version. He still has magic testicles at this point, albeit rudimentary.
Started out with the best intentions today, but I got all jammed up. Stupid work. Stupid deadlines. Stupid not-being-born-rich.
Oh, and Thursday’s Weasel sucked. So I killed it.
February 21, 2007 — 7:31 pm
Comments: 6