If you try commenting on any post prior to November 15th, you’ll find yourself aggregiously cockblocked. Not my doing, mind. That would be Blogger who has jacked my shit up all to hell. Seems that taking their (strongarming) suggestion that I upgrade my account to Blogger beta was a baaaaaad idea. They’ve only been griping at me to do this since, oh, July or some crap like that. Every time I’d log in…”You should upgrade! It only takes minutes!” Uh huh. And about seventy-five percent of your soul.
I apologize if you really really have this burning need to speak up about something from my past. Feel free to comment about it in one of the newer posts. I won’t yell at you. I get karma points for shit like that. Which I will spend finally deciding on which software I wish to use to self-host my blog. I’m torn between WordPress and MovableType, both of which I’ve heard nothing but awesome things about. So if you have recommendations or would just like to tell me what a silly ass I am for not having moved into the 21st century sooner, please feel free!
Yesterday as I was sitting at a stoplight with my window down, a guy in a really snazzy new Lexus rolled up next to me with his passenger window down and hollered across to me “Hey!”
I usually hesitate to make eye contact with the kind of guys who would just randomly shout at women from their cars, mostly because it’s either for ridicule or mildly inappropriate propositions. However, something in this guy’s voice made me rethink my Ignore the Gigolos mandate and turn my head. With a huge grin plastered across his face, he shot me a thumbs-up and hollered “I LOVE YOUR BUMPER STICKER!” before pulling away. I stuck my head out of my window and shouted “THANK YOU!” before getting beeped by the impatient turd behind me.
I tell you, that made my day. I’m so proud of the one and only bumper sticker I’ve ever adhered to my car, the one I bought at Tangents in Fort Bragg back in July (in return I earned about ten thousand karma points). The one you can buy for yourself from this website if you so choose. They rock. They make a clear statement. And they’ll make your breasts increase four cup sizes or your manhood triple in length AND girth. (it’s the instant karma)
Come on. You know you wanna be a liberal. It’s fun. We provide snacks. And porn. And now apparently hot guys in sweet cars who will happily shout at you in rush-hour traffic.
So I did something wacky the other day. I finally got up the gumption to put my name in the hat for the Annual Holiday Card Exchange hosted by the wicked-funny Weetabix
. It’s a fun little activity she organized quite a few years back wherein folks sign up and are given a list of 39 other people to whom they will send holiday cards. I know, I must be fucking mad, right? Typically I can barely get out the cards for everyone on my regular holiday list, and now I’m adding 39 strangers to the mix?Nah. I’ll be fine this time. Because people are counting on me. And besides, I bought some really awesome cards that I will show you later ’cause I don’t want to spoil the surprise for anyone who might end up on my list. Yes, that’s right, I was brave enough to give up the ghost on my URL, and now there’s the potential that all these Uber Cool Bloggers (god, is there a better word I can use? “Journalists” sounds pretenious, “diarists” sounds nefarious, and “blogger” almost implies these days that one actually utilizes the Blogger interface) could be visiting my sad, wilted little site. It’s a tad daunting, but I have to believe that most of these folks have better things to do with their time than hanging around the likes of this joint. They’re busy being witty and charming. And no, I’m not kissing ass. I tell you, there’s just the best niche of interesting and funny blog-diary-journal folks that I was fortunate enough to stumble upon and I fully blame them for the fact that I get exactly Jack Shit done in my day. Reading 90 awesome blogs is a lot of work. Especially since half of them are participating in NaBloPoMo (bastards!).
I’m looking forward to this. I just hope I don’t disappoint.
Happy Tuesday folks…today’s my last day of work before holiday vacation. w00t! You’ll hear from me before the turkey hits the table, so don’t fret. Because you so know you were fretting. Don’t deny. I can smell it.