Category: Unclassified Nonsense

This is a big pile of random crap. That’s right, I said crap.

Does the elevator know that when I get on and press the button for my floor a hundred times quickly that I’m in a hurry and want the doors to close immediately or does the elevator think that a hundred are all getting on in rapid succession and all want to go to the same place and it’d better keep the doors open so they can all get in safely.

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A recent piece of spam:

“today I was walking to the grocery store, like always, when I turned down a little shortcut I know through a back alley. I’ve never see anyone before, so I was rather surprised to see a man standing there, with a rather glazed look in his eyes. I walked past him, [spam link deleted], and stuck his teeth into it. I punched him and ran back home, screaming for help. When I finally got home, my arm was bright red, and looks extremely infected.”

First the Russians, now zombies.  My web site has truly arrived.

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From my Russian Spam friends:

“Уважаемый владелец сайта: http://www.posthumorous.org, хочу разместить у вас рекламу, свяжитесь пожалуйста со мной.”

Translated:

“Respected owner of the site: http://www.posthumorous.org, I want to place in you advertisement, be connected if you please with me.”

Why are the Russians trying to place things in me?  No please with you.  No please with you at all. 

At least I’m respected.  That’s good, right?

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Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon-Elegant story, beautifully shot. Martial arts girl steals Green Destiny sword?! Oh, I love all things asian…

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As a rule, first time comments are held for review to thwart spam.  After someone has posted an approved comment, they can post to their heart’s content with no adult supervision.  A couple of comments were in “review limbo” this weekend because I didn’t spend much time on the site.  Two of them have been released, one has not.

That’s because it’s in Russian and I can’t tell if it’s spam or if there is a Russian out there generally interested in this site and has something to say about it.  This is what he or she wrote:

Моя история из жизни: мы как-то с мамой ехали в маршрутке,( мама спец по всем видам мяса на глаз определяет что это), на остановке залазит подвипывший мужик с куском свежака в одноразовом пакете. Едем. Маршрутка резко тормозит,мужик по инерции бежит вперед и пакет рвется ,оттуда выпадет свежак ,дальше мамины слова- ” Мужчина,у вас вымя выпало!” я медленно сползаю под сиденье , пассажиры ржут, мужик красный – выбегает на следующей остановке 

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or 101 Ways to Start a Fight With a Broken Bottle in Belgium

Today is the last day of 2009.  Unless you’re in Japan at the moment, in which case 2009 is already gone and it’s 2010.  It’s also possible that the last day 2009 was yesterday if you are, in fact, reading this tomorrow.   If you’re reading this in the year 2378 you’ll need to do the math to determine how long ago 2009 was and also future space reader, thanks for reading my blog.  Althought presumably I’m dead in that scenario so I guess I won’t really care if you read it or not.  I suppose I could still be alive but very old.  Probably so old that I wouldn’t be concerned about a blog.  With my attention span, it’s likely that I’ll not be concerned with this blog in 45 minutes.

Time is a funny thing.  Or a relative thing.  I guess it’s both… it’s a relatively funny thing.  Interestingly enough, it doesn’t exist.  It’s just a sort of social contract between humans to just sort of agree on a unit of measure of our lives.  Some could argue that it’s tangible, like other units of measure because it’s based on the Earth’s rotation and spinning and flying around and such (I’m sure that’s exactly how’d they’d argue it too) but if god (who will be played by Minnesota Fats in this story) were to chalk up his interstellar pool cue and try a bank shot with the Earth spinning it off in a new direction, would a day still be a day if the sun rose and set 362 times a second?  I imagine no one would be alive to ponder such a thing what with life being snuffed out in the name of galatic billiards (it’d have to be a very large table, but god’s got an enormous gameroom… where did you think all that tithing ended up?  He also has a cocktail table version of Ms Pacman.).

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These are tough economical times we live in.  In which we live.  The times in which we live are tough.  Economically.  Economically speaking, the times in which we live are tough.  Now I’ve gone and forgotten what the point of this post was.

Oh yeah!

To all those Holly Helpfuls out there in the world, please stop being helpful.  To all the people that pull in a grocery cart from the parking lot inside with them, to all the people that pre-stack their table’s dishes in a restaurant after finishing a meal, to all the people clean up their own (or kid’s) spills in the food court of MegaMallTown USA… all of you… knock it off.  It is somebody else’s job to do that.  Grocery stores pay people to bring the carts inside.  Restaurants pay people to bus tables.  MegaMallTown USA pays someone to mop the floor when the Super-Gulp-a-Tron 128oz diabetes inducing soda goes asunder.  Those people’s livelihood depend on their ability to clean up after sloppy people.  If you start being helpful and clean up after yourself stores will fire the service folks whose jobs are now obsolete due to conscientious commercialism (let that one simmer for a second).  These people, now jobless, will have to move to welfare to support themselves.  Or perhaps they’ll become drug dealers.  Or pimps.  All because you thought it’d be helpful to bag your own groceries.  All that helpfulness costs Americans jobs.  And that’s just what the Terrorism® wants.

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Today is Christmas. Or secularly, December 25th. Regardless of beliefs, churches, social structures, and power grids, this day of the year motivates (or more importantly allows) people to add a bazillion assorted lights, lawn displays, synchronized musical reviews and production effects rivaling Pink Floyd onto their houses. I think it’s awesome and question the limitation of “super-lighting” to only one holiday or period of the year. Why not go filament crazy 365, baby?

These days, Halloween (the best holiday ever) is now a close 2nd in exterior overdoing it-ness, but beyond Decemberween (the period of time encompassing the entire month of October, the part of November after Thanksgiving, and the entire month of December) there’s nary a fun light to be found. That’s really sad. If people get so excited about crazying up their residences for Decemberween, why not just go year round. You could save yourself a lot of work each year going up and down ladders and potentially shocking yourself when you find out why you can’t daisy chain 14 strings of lights together the hard way.

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