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the only website vaccinated against disco and pac-man fever
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This page will be the first to go if there's a draft
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A wholly needless, I expect, link back to the main page
Hey, look, Chanukah, Tuesday, December 7 |
(1) I swear that sentence makes sense
The thing that was here before and is here again is now somewhere else in addition to right here.
One Week From The Day Immediately Prior to Ankgiving, December 01, 2004 |
Thanksgiving is a day to be giving thanks. But what are thanks? What is a thank? How is one given? People will say "thank you," or "we give thanks," but these words don't help my understanding. I really want to see this thank get given. "Thank you" actually always sounded like a grammatically awkward command to me. "I'm busy, thank you yourself." That doesn't make me feel better at all. Neither does "you're welcome." Nevermind that I only ever hear 'you're welcome' after some self-righteous waddle doo runs in front of me to open up an easily opened door and demand grattitude. Still, the next time that happens, with my recent awakening regarding manners, I shall respond "go thank yourself."
One peculiar trait of my mother which makes itself known on days for thanking is that of believing, with enough contradictory hints, I will forget which foods I don't like. Did you eat any turkey? You like stuffing, don't you? Why don't you have some scalloped p'taterzh? Her own mother did the same thing, but also only to me for some reason. You liked corned beef the last time you were here! No, you thought I liked corned beef the time before the last time I was here the last time I was here. I never would call the two of them bad chefs; they just choose to make foods that I think are bad regardless of preperation. If you feel culturally bound to a meaningless tradition randomly generated by people who have long been dead and were probably a bunch of dunkelmen anyway, I will concede that it is your right to do so. But don't get offended when I refuse helpings of a thing I definitely told you I wasn't planning to consume. It greatly aggrivates me that the day associated with overeating, the one that excuses workers nationwide to partake in, deals exclusively with foods I hate. Some people even call it turkey day. (They're morons, but I think we need to eliminate the "Saint Paddee's Day" glibnics before we even begin to deal with these thopes). Why is it not fried chicken, pizza, taco and pancake day? Whuh'sat? The pilgrims didn't have any of that? I suppose they did have hormonally altered turkeys and electric carving knives and broadcast television edits of Jurassic Park (which we've already seen on video numerous times by the way) playing in the background? You can bet no one found out why the triceratops was sick by searching through "one big pile of crap" back on Plymouth Rock. And then something about The Polar Express and Hallmark before I left.
I do like pies, though. Some pies. Ones that don't have nuts or weird fruits in them. The kind of fruit that prevent me from buying the Starburst in the green wrapping with the watermelon flavor like pineappleberrybanana or coconutsteakaloupe. My favorite pie has always been with strawberries but that's not allowed for thank-giving for some cocks and oxen reason like "Oh, strawberries don't grow this time of year." Sure pal. I'm sure the "cold weather" and "lack of sufficient sunlight" makes it really hard on the "warmth dependent" plantlings. I'm sure you can't make a pie out of "undeveloped" and "green" strawberries. But feh. Pies available this time that I would dare consume were of pumpkin and apple crumb persuasion. Apple crumb pie is just like regular apple pie except it greatly distresses Tintin. And... I'm done.
I heard that there's going to be some kind of law resembling object which will make the installation of security cameras into schools mandatory, state-funded, or something else which increases the likelihood of them showing up. I'm glad these watching machines were not present during my years in that sort of facility, because nothing makes me feel less safe than the presence of safety measures. What's worse, if you have an embarrassing itch, a sudden desire to dance, or pog forbid you become coo-coo for cocoa puffs, you may be afraid to deal with that for fear of who might witness such a thing. I do hope crimes, if they would absolutely have insisted on happening, will be aborted prematurely by the invasive electric eye. What I did find laughable among the list of things which would be prevented, however, was right at the end, "possible terrorist attacks." What, you think after everyone leaves Osama bin Laden is going to climb out of a garbage can and then you'll get him while he's setting up his Wile E Coyote tnt detonator? That's not impossible, just implausible. But you have to prepare for what you can't expect, right? No one who wasn't planning it expected hijacked airplanes hitting buildings who would admit it later, after all. Still, if a couple of those are heading toward Sister Hildegaard's Game Hunting class, by the time this is evident on your 4th divided screen monitoring the hallways where the last cigarettes were found it will probably be too late to do anything about.
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Lies! Deception! I demand proof!
Aw naw. I'm about to be punted, aren't I.
The Day Immediately Prior to Ankgiving, November 24, 2004 |
Great gimpity that's a flash cartoon, isn't it. And not even the kind with a song in it. In the event I uploaded it successfully, angelfire.com permits remote linking and you're too curious for your own wellbeing, click there or here to wait for and play it now if you have fast internet or don't know what you're doing. Otherwise, in the interest of preventing [further] error, right click there, there, or here and seek out a save as type option to wait for now and presumably intend to watch later when no one can see you but actually entirely forget about altogether (recommended). Whatever the case, don't click the mushroom thing, because for testing purposes that would skip scenes, and for viewing purposes closing the window accomplishes that task more efficiently, I think.
Excuses, excuses:
Largely at fault for that going as far as it did and the subject matter is a great amount of encouragement from several people whom I do not at this point honestly believe have ever seen other flash cartoons. I would describe this as approximately six minutes of the kind of attention to detail in every wrong area that has kept my site traffic beneath tripod's bandwith limit for three years. And I did. The construction of the accursed thing took about 14 months, off and on, mostly off, because Flash editor is such a depressing thing to work with. I imagine this would be even more so had I actually purchased it. The large quantity of that time on was spent shifting frames to accomodate sound rerecordings and unexpected delays following mp3 conversion, and the reason that took so long is because Macromedia never intended for dumb cartoons to be made with their public access channel slide show editor.
I didn't realize until after 80% of the noises had been didded that some of them sound extra bad on other computers because my own computer's hardware is such that when playing back a flash document every noise sounds extra bad. I believe that were I to eventually succeed in fixing that and the seemingly random timing issues (oh and maybe making the mouths move) without having the police called over my "why do you keep hurting me" screams, it would take more months and not likely improve anyone's opinion of the overall product. Truly, every time I remedialize one error I notice a new one I didn't before but that which was surely there before. Is this worth the trouble? If you were powerful enough to watch that and still come back to read this, you will agree that it is not. After such a period I'm so sick of the whole pancake that even my Pac-in-Time page is starting to look like... my Back to the Forest Page. The story's not that great and doesn't even come to a conclusion. I had to abort it abruptly because the source file has surpassed 45 megabytes (a good half of it those wretched, not even necessary sounds, ironically) in size and taking four minutes to save. Contrary to what you might think, I do have other things to do. Some of them are important, even. I want to get this on the internet and out of my control not so much, then, in search of praise, but merely so I will no longer have excuses to waste life trying to make it presentable.
One final thing, I felt compelled to brand it at the end because these things can get around. Far be it from myself to waive the usual "everything I make is bad" clause, but I've seen some right abominable flash cartoons "get around." Maybe I can change the world after all.
Problem solved
One dumb scandal I can't figure out the persistence of (excluding my mentioning it just now) is that which is in regards to Ashilee of Simpson pretending to sing while appearing on some live saturday night show (Forgive me, I cannot recall its title). I can understand hating a marginally talented individual who is only popular and employed as a result of being related to someone else, especially if that someone else is his or herself only marginally talented or a murderer. I can accept despising a musicianist who plays no instruments, [occasionally] sings songs another wrote yet gets and accepts 100% of the recognition when things go right. I can fully support resenting some stupid kid who gets millions of dollars for not doing a whole lot and will probably spend it all on cars, shoes and gold toilet paper.
However, if the only reason you can come up with was that she thought she could get away with a trick that 80% of the other singers do on a show that no one even watches for the musical interludes, then you should be mad at the person in the sound control booth who pressed the wrong button. Who, I might add, I suspect did it on purpose.
Oh, oh, but at the end of the program Ashleigh Simpson blamed it on the band, right? 'Ey. If that had happened to Brittany Spirz she probably would have blamed it on Mexicans. If that had happened to Barbra Steisand she probably would have blamed it on Jews. If that had happened to Admiral Lavigne she probably would have blamed it on The Captain and Tenille. If that had happened to Milli Vanilli they probably would have blamed it on the rain (hey, what did happen to them, anyway?).
What would have been the alternative thing to do? Imagine you're the sort of person who'd agree to perform on national live television with the intent to not actually do that but have people believe you are. And then you have ten minutes to decide on apologizing or maybe getting out of apologizing after being found out. You'd probably take the chance if it was the sort of thing that the biggest consequence for failing to excuse yourself from was apologizing. If this is a career euthanizer, then it would have been either way. If you must go down, why not do so with artificial dignity? (assuming that any mishap you'd follow with a hoedown could be looked upon as dignified)
I hope the chef pictured on this box is a lie. He's making pizza, and not even good pizza. Maybe you toss it in the air a few times if you're special, but this was a product of quality just the slightest bit above "frozen," so if this guy is real then he's an overpaid moron. As a fictional character, he is just a moron. He puts on that ridiculous uniform and fake mustache to dump the contents of a tomato-product filled can on a circular lump of dough and cover it with a deluxe sized Kraft Single that's sure to depart every slice in one piece. Besides the usual, what is that on the pizza, anyway? It looks like a flock of kindergarten art class migrating birds. But see at the way chef man is holding the pizza section. The awkward hand position, the inedible angle, the fact that the cheese unit has very visibly begun to slide off. As a veteran pizza slice weilder, I know that such a weight shift would be obvious without looking, but yet this guy goes right on smiling, as if that's what he planned all along. What a lube job that guy is. He's probably not even legally allowed to leave his home. Box artist had to visit and draw him there. I can only assume this salute to bad housekeeping hanging on one of the walls of the restaraunt was painted during the same trip. The image of overturned tea apparatus upon a disshevled tablecloth which would clearly be too small for the surface were the owner mentally capable of laying it properly, is only appropriate to be seen while dining if it relates directly in some way to the person who prepares the alleged edibles. Unless, of course, this is just a plot by the wait-staff to make me appreciate the laborious task that is setting a table for hand-held food consumption. |
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I know Solid Snake's around here somewhere. I definitely saw him go into this room!
Oh, we must give text browser people textual alternatives for the pictures mustn't we! Not I! If you come to this page with a text browser, then for the purposes of my IMGs I hate you because all I do is talk about pictures anyway. And if you're surfin' the web on your telephone or pocket-watch or microwave oven or whatever-have-you then I hate you also whether it affects my pictures or doesn't. And I like being able to have stupid concealed messages and also alert potential viewers to their presence at the same time without explicitly saying so. And if you're blind or something and, as absurd as it sounds to me, actually making constructive use of text to speech synthesis, then no doubt my recent entry dividing system will utterly befuddle you, so I advise you to proceed no further.
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The legends are true! After so many years of searching, at last I've discovered the secret Tomagotchi burial ground!
Friday, November 19, 2004 |
Here is a story. It's not quite so long as the one about cookies I posted a few months ago, but I think its message is every bit as important, if not more so.
Also, it has a title.
Alex Trebek forgets how to play Jeopardy
Alex Trebek:"This Reinhold's first name was Judge, despite the fact that he wasn't really a judge. His parents must have been morons. . . . Glibix?"
Glibix Jellostein:"Who is 'Judge Reinhold?'"
"I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to tell you that."
"I wasn't asking."
"it sounded a lot like you were trying to trick me into telling you what the answer is"
"No, I was telling you, except in the form of a question. That's how the game is played."
"Is it? I had quite forgotten."
The End of That
The invasion of sideways jellyfish! Just like Nostrodamus said!
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we must do what we can to protect what remains of the ascii rain forests
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Friday, November 12, 2004 |
Since it can perennially be said that whatever I used to write is less bad than what I currently write, it is fortunate that I forget about a lot of it until later when it will look good in comparison to things I wrote more recently but did not forget about. That probably isn't the case here.
The Sea-Biscuit dvd, what a waste of atoms that is. All these yokes going on about why they made the movie. They need to do this because if I met any of them, "why" would certainly be my first question. And they're off, trying to justify spending --when there are people having legs amputated because they can't afford the surgery to fix it (note, may just refer to cats)-- xn million dollars on the story of a long dead horse that could, and this will shock you, RUN FAST. Wow. According to some hwahdoo with nothing else to say, that regarding figures most written about (assumingly by United Statians) in The Thirties, 1 is Seabisquick, 2 is President Roosevelt and 3 is that Hitler. Now let's say we rank these in order of actual historical significance, we get Hitler, Roosevelt, and at number 37 million is Skeeballski, right behind the anonymous author of the document which went on to inspire Roller-Jam. My use of "significance" is not to exhibit Hitlervian fandom, but instead to point out that if six million people die due to a dumb wager you made, that would be your fault, rather than that of the horse who runs around in a circle.
If this remarkably average equestrian is so important, why had I never heard a thing until the movie was made? Even Kangaroo Jack I knew about a few months in advance.
Now that I've thought of it, I do recall seeing one episode of a cartoon with a horse named "Teabiscuit" in it. I can't remember what cartoon it was, only that this was the very worst episode of it that I had seen.
"They," who remain nameless for any reason you want, say this Adriatic dog treat "captured the hearts" or "inspired the nation." Surely, I am sure, there was a good 75% of depression era wrist-slitters who seriously did not phreego about it. No exact figure of enjoyers is given by anyone, but as long as it's a higher number, for any amount of time, than the most amount of morons enthralled by any other pointless watchable thing, then they're a majority. Think of this: How many dweebens watched American Idol, really? Probably even more than the horse. If some jujubrained mongoose tried to make a movie seventy years from now about a small group of idiots repeat speed-dial voting for yet one more whiny singer (by the way, the loser gets an album too), the same national heart imprisonment could be claimed, it would be just as not true, and such a proclomation would be just as uncontested.
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For incompetent druids
There are people who really believe in that lids saving lives bit, it seems. I read a random comment on a very pro-jogurt message board by someone claiming to have been "saving since march." Isn't that some kind of health hazard? Those things still have bits of yoghourt on them. There must be some microscopic organism with standards low enough to go after that. And if you put the lids in your refrigerator... I hope you live alone, both for the sake of you and the person you don't live with. I also hope you don't get drunk (as you frequently do), go looking for a snack, and think they're big pink pringles. Actually, you probably deserve that if you were blatantly licking the wretched things in public. And you have to lick them. Yoplait will know if you didn't. They'll keep that precious pair of nickels if they don't detect human dna on each and every one of those.
}÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷{
I really should apologize for my last keyboard symbol-based divider. Isn't it a such a shame, then, that I'm not going to?
*paypal, so named, because those who attempt to employ it first ask themselves: my real pals will pay me, right?
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I was thinking about that AOL/Belindi report card thing again, just because I'm not allowed to think about things I like. Many questions came to me, going even beyond "why bother?" Will some "students" receive bad marks if they attempt to participate in a chatroom above their grade level, or will Belindi faculty make sure only kids the same age are allowed to socialize? Will ones who don't go to any chatrooms at all be given "u" or "n" grades? Will special needs chatters be prohibited from chatting in maximized windows? When you've typed a message, do you need to raise your arm and wait to be called on before pressing enter? Would copy and pasting someone else's text be considered cheating? Will notes from the moderators suggest underachieving chatters have merely not been applying themselves? Why do I think this card will neglect to report on language arts and spelling? Will we eventually be seeing cars bearing bumper stickers with, printed upon them, "My child is an AOL honor student?" Will these people still not impress anyone else?
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What's that BEHIND YOU?! Oh, it's just another archive page. As is this.