A Banner Day for Lemurdom.

Yay!

In lieu of a dog, I now have a cable internet connection and a wireless link that doesn’t stink like cat poo.

My Twisted Midget Porn website is going to be up and running before you can say “OhmygawdcanyoureallyDOthat??”

I must feed first.  I made some ridiculously hot Pad Krapow a few nights ago and it is in the fridge calling out to me.  Lots of beef, onions, peppers, chilies, basil, and yes… lots and lots of the meat that is not a meat.  No, not that kind.

I tell Girlhead that the Serengeti is populated by huge ginormous herds of boneless pale block-shaped and rather tasteless hoofed beasts called (what else?) Tofudebeests.

They must be prepared by frying till golden and then marinating in soy, rice wine vinegar, palm sugar, and sesame oil – and only then will they be fit to consume.

It’s not all quite as good as a dog, but it’s a start.

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I’m so conflicted here… is this supposed to make me want to eat meat or not?  I mean, are we talking spoiled meat, metaphorical meat, “meat” meat, or some subtle layering of meaning that I’m not grasping?  I’m not a fan of Pam Anderson, but what if it were Salma?  What would I want then?

Screw it.  PETA is a bunch of broken people.  (credit for first sighting of the next two images with mine own eyes goes to Amusing Bunni – Thank you, Bunni, wherever you got them from…)

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Apolgies are in order…

Hi all – I’ve felt absolutely horrible neck-wise the last three days so I haven’t really done anything on… anything.  Tried to “do more” and found that it wasn’t reasonable.

We gave up Zoe-pup on Saturday.  I basically gave her some scritches, a quick hug, and hightailed it out of there and waited in the car.  Didn’t want to stretch that out.

All in all one hell of a sh***y weekend.  Nothing life-threatening or anything like that and in the grand scheme of things won’t alter any cosmological constants but it still sucked.  The house is very strangely quiet w/o her around.  I miss my damn dog, dammit – the annoying little snarf-anything-that-hits-the-floor, constant shadow, needs-t0-be-walked-to-the-latrine, 5-foot-high-jumping, Frankenboy blood slurping fuzzball that she is.

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ARrrrrrGGGG.

And I’m not trying to sound like a pirate.

I’m trying to get my motorola cable modem up and running and damn if their setup software isn’t a pile of crap.  Manually setting this thing up has made no sense either.  This isn’t rocket science but they have made it so weird… grrrrrr.  No wonder this stuff scares the hell out of people.

So I’m limping along on my awful DSL for now.  Can’t load anything in any kind of normal time.

My midget pr0n website is suffering from horrible traffic declines from the slow speeds.

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The Epitomy of Hate.

This showcases one of my biggest complaints with Christians (and I consider myself one).  It is a reason why I don’t go to church because it seems like everywhere you go, you run into people who are more concerned about your sin than theirs.  (the whole “My Way News” article is here) Emphasis mine…

The strippers, fueled by Cheetos and nicotine, are protesting a fundamentalist Christian church whose Bible-brandishing congregants have picketed the club where they work. The dancers roll up with signs carrying messages adapted from Scripture, such as “Do unto others as you would have done unto you,” to counter church members who for four years have photographed license plates of patrons and asked them if their mothers and wives know their whereabouts.

See, the church started this mess.

The pastor?  He’s most concerned with motes in other’s eyes.

“As a Christian community, we cannot share territory with the devil,” Dunfee said. “Light and darkness cannot exist together, so The Fox Hole has got to go.”

One stripper rightly calls the church’s member’s behavior hateful.  A congregant’s reply goes like this:

Debi Durr, who attends the church, disagreed. “You don’t stand up there for four years for hate. That’s not hate. That’s love,” she said. Durr left Meske with a copy of Jeremiah 3:13 – a Bible passage that urges sinners to acknowledge their guilt.

Yes, yes you do stand up there for four years for hate- if you seek to coerce or embarrass people in order to get your “message of love” across, you are tarnished silver.

I like that the strippers have showed up in bikinis.  It makes a point.

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How Green I Am…

The Dude sent me an interesting article that just highlights the stark reality for anyone that thinks there are easy solutions to getting free energy – there is no such thing just as there is no such thing as perpetual motion, bigfoot, unicorns, or rational liberals.

EE Times discusses how MIT got a bit silly.

Wind power has always been a bit of a reach – it might be viable but the gains are nowhere near that of nuclear power, or France would have ‘mills on every baguette-bakery and snail farm.

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Conspicuous by it’s Absence.

Read the article here about attacks on folks at a fairground.

Police say “may be racially motivated”.

What I find interesting is that it’s allegedly black guys going around beating up white guys but no one ever used the word combination “hate crime” in the article.

Hmmm.

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I’m told that the egg recall isn’t so surprising.  They say:

…after a rodent or worker introduces salmonella into the hens’  feed, it spreads like wildfire from hen to hen and onto the forming eggs before thy have been hatched.

Ok, so there is only one way to combat this and be proactive, and that is  to irradiate all the hens.

You can thank me for this awesometastic idea later.  I’ll set up a PayPal donations drop to handle any contributions to my lifestyle you may want to make.

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Doritos and Day Care

Now that Cruel Wife has a job, the universe has smiled upon us – my company now has day-care.

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A while back Frankenboy and I sat and ate some Doritos 2nd Degree Burn chips.  Yea they’re hot but not in a killer kind of way.    Now they have 3rd Degree Burn chips.  They are hot but not a huge amount of flavor.  I was bummed.

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Kind of a burning sensation.

News Flash!  Cruel Wife got her job offer today. In an economy that has all the texture and consistency of cow poo, she got her job offer just three business days after the interview.  This will be a huge shot in the arm to helping pay off medical bills from my neck and all the other things that have broken recently – my truck, our tv, our A/C, Frankenboy’s knee (gashed open, not broken), CW’s rear driver’s side door on her vehicle, our modem… crazy stuff.

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At the end of a long ride the wrong bicycle seat can leave you with a sensation that you slathered your privates with habanero puree.  Thanks to The Dude, a semi-alert reader, you have Habcycles.

From Black Lab on Meth we have spiciness on a different level.

HE 40 salt and pepper shakers.

Pull the pin S&P shakers.

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Lunch break…

Braaaaaainnnnns…

When arrested at the intersection of Hennepin Avenue and 6th Street N., most of them had thick white powder and fake blood on their faces and dark makeup around their eyes. They were walking in a stiff, lurching fashion and carrying four bags of sound equipment to amplify music from an iPod when they were arrested by police who said they were carrying equipment that simulated “weapons of mass destruction.”

Seriously?  Police felt obligated to arrest people dressed as mindless zombies? They don’t go around arresting Obama supporters so why start here?

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Wish her luck…

Update: The interview went very well.  CW is highly qualified, smart as a whip, and short – all the good things you need in a scientist.  Well, the short part is total bs.  She is 5’1″ tall but you don’t need someone that short for a scientist.   An arm rest though, you need someone that short.

I have had need in the past to find tape for my ribs after a hypersonic elbow cracked three of them.  Note to self:  Only use short woman’s head for armrest if you are leaning over enough that she can’t reach you.

Five to seven days from now we’ll know.

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Cruel Wife is at this very moment interviewing for a position where she can drop mommyhood eight hours and embrace her career as a scientist.  Be this whole Eureka-Nerdette meets superwoman thing.

The job looks like a perfect match. She qualified, she’s smart, her new business suit looks sharp.

I told her:

• They are there to woo you.
• You are way totally qualified.
• Picture them in their underwear with a spiked collar and leather leash.
• You look pretty sharp in the new duds.  Looks good.

She better ask for more than I make so I can quit and become Mr. Mom-at-Home-Eating-Bon-Bons for a while.

If she does get it, we need to find a home for Zoe-pup.  I believe leaving her alone for 8-10 hours a day inside would be cruelty.  She’s an English Shepherd.  She’d explode or something.  She doesn’t get the exercise and attention she needs because of my neck anyway, which is something I’ve felt a long time, so finding her a good home just feels right.

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Mmmmm. Food. Maybe.

Ah, yet another air-dried-tongue-wagger has spoken up about the dismal fate of the planet.  What is the hardly-novel nightmare du jour?

Why, it’s vat grown meat… food… stuff.

Leading scientists say meat grown in vats may be necessary to feed 9 billion people expected to be alive by middle of century

No kidding? Wow. Well, how bad could that be? I mean, look at the awesome vat-grown-lambshake below. You can even have them put mint jelly in a little dollop on top. Doesn’t that look delish?

Bacon Shots.  (don’t confuse with the bacon-flavored vodka I saw over at DPUD)
Pork Shooters.
Bambi Juicy Box.
Foi-gras Fizzes.

It brings a whole new meaning to the term “12 oz Porterhouse Steak”. Put the can in some simmering water, bring it to the table, pop the top for the customer and insert a silver straw.

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A new put-down.

Simple usage:

Oh HIM??? He’s such a barbie.

Words cut real  deep.

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Pure Unalloyed Envy

I’m so envious it is excruciating.

Every now and then I’ll plug a cartoon – XKCD, Pearls Before Swine, Rubes.

Get Fuzzy – you must fall down and worship Darby Conley.  Seek out his sites, his books, the Bucky Katt plushy toy.  Not even sure if there is a Bucky Katt plushy toy.  There should be.

click to embiggenify

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Off-On-Off-Off-Off-Off-Off-On-Off…

Update:

Supposedly it was an old-style POS half-ringer, which I witnessed the guy take out of the telephone box on the house.  While it did help with our DSL not crapping out every time the phone rang and we temporarily had awesome service (which, alas, I did not take real advantage of), we went back to crap yesterday afternoon and evening.

Our modem is still on it’s way to being toast, I’m afraid.

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The state of my ISP (AT&T) and an Old DSL Modem (sort of like the Old Gods only much more evil).  We’ve been waiting TEN DAYS for them to get off their asses and fix our lines.  The noise is like listening to a 747 through someone’s cellphone.  Our modem can’t seem to hold on to it’s passwords and kicks out regularly.

Can’t hardly stay on long enough to grab e:mail, certainly can’t transfer a file bigger than 100K without loss of signal.

That this is even going through (hope) is a small miracle.

So that’s why I’m out of touch.  Otherwise you’d have seen some Frankenboy knee pics by now.

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