While poking around at one of my semi-regular haunts, I found this link. There's deeply disturbing stuff being auctioned off at eBay.

School's canceled yet again. It was snowing a little earlier, but now it's just raining. I drove in it, it's nothing, but yet they canceled school anyway. The ground was pretty wet; I suppose they didn't want anyone to get their shoes damp. I know we rednecks can't cope with snow, but this is a bit ridiculous.

Since this semester started on Jan. 8, we've had only one full week of classes.

I was going to write something longer, but then my computer froze up and I lost what little I had. After the reboot, my rage didn't exactly help me tap into a wellspring of wackiness. No, all I wanted to do was smash things like Boris Karloff in the original Frankenstein.

Ah, there's nothing quite like smashing inanimate objects, as long as I don't have to clean it up. Hey, there's a money making idea: a smashing parlor. People would pay to smash stuff and get all that stress out of their systems. And other people would clean up the mess. It's brilliant. I'd be providing both a much needed stress reliever for society and much needed jobs.

I want this site to be filled with useful information and links. I'm not going to be satisfied until I become a sort of cyber Martha Stewart. Each and every day there're be helpful links to make your life just marvelous. (Jesus, I need to get a girlfriend or something.)

Saturday, on EastEnders, in the background of one scene I noticed a stand selling jellied eel. I've heard of this vile sounding dish before, but I never knew exactly what it was. So today I decided to find out. A Google search turned up this site, which not only clearly explained what jellied eel is (eeewww!), but is also a fascinating historical article about eels and eel-eating through the ages.

I really wish I could manage longer posts, but even these short idiotic ones drain me. It's too cold to write, especially when there's not a damn thing going on in my life worth writing about. The fact that I'm writing about eels should tell you that I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel. But at least it's not an eel barrel.

Most of the snow melted yesterday because it was almost 50 degrees. I went out this morning and it was 16 degrees. That's Fahrenheit, not Celsius. And as I walked from the parking lot to the school building, I thought my face was actually beginning to freeze. I was careful not to bump into anything for fear the exposed portions of my skin would shatter.

I actually left the house today, the first time I've done this since last Wednesday night. I went to school and did some work in one of the computer labs. Afterwards I filled my car up with gas. Then I was kidnapped by superintelligent gophers and made their slave. Or at least I think that's what happened. I might have made up that bit about the computer lab. Sometimes I get lonely and make up stuff. That doesn't make me a bad person does it? It does? Shit.

Finally, a good idea. Or something like that.

Last night I did something I almost never do anymore, I actually watched a movie. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas isn't exactly good, but it's nowhere near as a bad as I had expected. I'm rarely glad when some lunatic decides to make a movie of one of my favorite books (David Cronenberg should be horse-whipped in public for what he did to Naked Lunch), but this movie stuck pretty much to the book and wasn't a complete travesty. Of course, I'll never watch it again, but it was a fairly painless way to kill some time.

Want to know what I think is the worst movie of all time is? No? Well, I'll tell you anyway, it's Boxing Helena. I view the world as a crude and stupid place that grinds everything beautiful and inspiring to mush, but since Jennifer Chambers Lynch hasn't been given a cent to write and/or direct another movie since she barfed out Boxing Helena, I can hold this up as proof that there is some justice in the world. It's the most boring, pretentious, and clichéd thing I've ever suffered through. Absolutely insulting. Avoid it at all costs.

Oops, I made a mistake. That hit I got last night I thought was from China was actually from Switzerland. China's country code is .cn and Switzerland's is .ch. I should really confirm this kind of stuff before I go and write about it. And I really don't have an excuse for not checking since I keep a text file list of all the country codes on my desktop for easy access.

School's cancelled again, presumably for the arctic cold rather than the snow. It stopped snowing yesterday morning, but the temperature's been well below freezing since Wednesday night. Exciting, no? Not at all.

I got a hit from China last night. I'd though the Chinese government was blocking all Blogspot URLs, but then this person was looking for sites that feature acts typically described by that word that starts with p and rhymes with corn and I've read the Chinese government doesn't block those kinds of sites anymore. (I have nowhere else to take this thought; it's too cold for my brain to fuction properly.)

I'm snowed in again, and it's still coming down. What is this, North Dakota? We're not supposed to get that much snow down here. It's that bastard, El Niño.

Meanwhile, have stuff due Monday that I need to do at school and don't know what I'm going to do if school's cancelled tomorrow. Hopefully we'll get cut some slack.

I hate Wednesdays. This is the most excruciating day of the week, the day I'm forced out of my nice warm bed at a deeply unnatural hour by my alarm-clock so I can drag myself to my eight o'clock keyboarding class (after first scraping ice off my car windows, of course). And this is the day I have to spend two and a half hours or more in my accounting class learning things I don't want to know and probably shouldn't know.

I've had three people this morning hit my blog while searching for Icelandic porn. Bewildering. OK, it's not bewildering, apparently it's quite normal. OK, it's not normal either. Unless you're Icelandic, that is, which one of my misguided visitors happens to be. (This made so much more sense when it was in my head.) Anyway, I have a horrible confession to make: I too once searched Google for Icelandic porn. It was before I started this blog and I can't even remember if I actually found any real Icelandic porn. My search that day, like so many others, was driven by boredom much more than the mindless male horniness that plagues me so often. And why Iceland? What kink would fuel such a search? Bjork? And what would be in Icelandic porn anyway? Vikings? Would it be something like an all nude, all humping version of Snorri Sturluson's most beloved medieval saga, Heimskringla? The mind reels. OK, it doesn't.

One of my favorite stupid search engine requests I've found is for "Google porn". Why would anyone search for this? Were they under the impression that Google had a new feature for porn like Google News or Google Groups? I think it's in beta right now and it'll be officially launched in a couple of months. (Now that I think of it, that's not an entirely stupid idea.)

Someone hit my blog after searching what appears to be a Farsi or Arabic language version of Google for "Turkish Google". For the record Turkish Google can be found here. More than anything I want my blog to be public service. Now, if only I could help that guy who seached for "porn involving clowns" to find exactly what he was looking for.

That wasn't worth the wait at was it? Sorry.

Search engines are like wishing wells. If someone could come up with a way to fulfill all the bizarre search requests people come up with they'd make billions.

This isn't the longer post I was promising, that'll be up later.

Someone searched German Google for "extreme porn powerpoint" and found me. Finally, a good use for powerpoint. People won't snooze through those boring presentations at work anymore. I will make my first million marketing Extreme Porn Powerpoint. Genius. Pure Genius.

I'm working on a larger post, but it's going to have to wait until much later in the day because I've got that interminable PC upgrade and repair class this afternoon. Who knows what shape I'll be in once I stagger out of there. Last week I was near apoplexy after suffering three hours of droning tedium. This week I may end up in jail after going on a rampage.

I just found this. Frankly, I'm speechless. And impressed.

I don't know why I have to take two semesters of accounting anyway, it's not like I'm going to be an accountant or be in charge of anyone's money. I'd sooner wrestle bears for a living. I'm a mathematical imbecile; I consider it a minor miracle when I can get my checkbook balanced.

Ugh. I've been avoiding this blogging stuff for several hours. I have nothing to report other than I've been sitting in front of my PC with headphones on listening to CDs for the past hour avoiding both blogging and the more important accounting stuff I should be studying.

Debits on the left, credits on the right. There. That's all you'll ever need to know about accounting.

I just found out Google has the original front page of my sister's site still cached even though she took the page down almost a month ago. Look at it and see the only two animated gifs I haven't found insanely distracting.

A couple of days ago I left a comment at a blog (that doesn't need a link from me) about how I waste too much time trying to come up with stuff for my blog when I should just write something dull, translate it into Korean at Babelfish, and then translate it back into English. Well, below is the second of yesterday's paragraphs given such a treatment; I find it both oddly poetic and complete gibberish.

It will carry and my apologies it dies there is as for a location stats thing to my schedule grudge individual whom it thinks. Anyone which has a price it hangs but regarding when it writes, I me or will pull the interest regarding a day lifetime and it will be vague and the silence which it does joyfully it will split, it will write, theyn the place, there is not that le B. It will go out and even it will except my location stats and it will be roundabout and the tube it will plant, it pulls, that it discovers, now it has not been thin severe to right. The huh it is dull?

Babelfish is great, last night I typed in my blog's URL and translated the whole thing into Korean, Japanese, German, French, and Italian. I enjoyed doing this pointless activity far more than any normal, healthy individual should.

I checked my site stats this morning like I always do and got all excited when I saw that I'd had like 15 or 16 hits since last night. Then I found out the majority of them were just people who had found my blog while looking up weird porn on search engines. And most of that dealt with North Korea or Kim Jong Il. I just don't get it. I wish I'd never mentioned porn anywhere on my blog. And drawing so much porn-related traffic when I don't have any porn to offer makes me feel like such a tease. But then I've often fantasized about having an internet porn empire. Beats working. Then I could barracade myself in my mansion and not have to deal with people at all because my minions would take care of everything. Ah, the fantasy internet porn empire...

My apologies to my regular readers who think I'm beating this site stats thing to death. I'd write something interesting and vaguely amusing about my day-to-day life if there was anything worth writing about, but there isn't. There's not a damn thing going on right now that I find even remotely interesting except my site stats. Dull, huh?

I'm snowed in. Well kinda. School's cancelled for the day and I don't have anything to do except freeze my butt off in front of my computer or study my accounting drivel. Talk about lame choices.

I got a hit early this morning from someone looking for Israeli porn. That'll be my niche, obscure porn of the world. I can't wait until I get a hit for Mongolian porn. It'll happen, trust me.

We have a snow storm on the way tonight. I have a ton of MS-Word homework to do in the computer lab, so this storm is going to be a big nuisance.

It's freezing down here in my "office" (a glorified storage room with internet access); the thermometer reads 60 degrees. I suppose I'd be warmer if I didn't insist on wearing my pajamas. I hate regular clothes.

Ah, there's nothing like a pervert with a search engine. I checked my logs and found out someone had found my blog searching Google UK for "wanking in front of women". I'm listed eighth, despite not having a damn thing on my blog about wanking in front of women. I'm surprised it wasn't "wanking in front of North Korean women" or "wanking in front of Kim Jong Il".

One day I'll write a proper entry. Really, I will.

Kill me. Kill me now. This semester is going to be pure hell. The PC upgrade and repair class I just got out of is being taught by the dullest and most disorganized human I've ever been subjected to in a classroom. Two hours and fifty minutes of mind-numbling agony. All my other classes suck too. Being eaten alive by hundreds of squirrels is preferable to this grinding tedium.

After I got home from school, I checked the new links I'd put up and found out I'd only screwed up one. I'll fix it tomorrow at school because I don't dare edit my blog's code with anything but Internet Explorer. Even just adding an l with a non-IE browser could really screw up something. I gripe from from experience.

I just added a bunch of new links to my blog list, but I don't have time to test them right now. If they don't work, I'll fix them later.

I promised myself I wouldn't have 50 blogs linked on my sidebar, but it looks like I'm going to end up with more than 50 at the rate I'm going. Anyway, the blogs on the left are the ones I read on a daily or semi-daily basis.

Almost by accident I found a reference to Kim Jong Il's supposed love of porn in an online article. If you don't want to read the article, here's the quote, "[...]Kim Jong Il is a porn-loving, deviant-sex-practicing, cartoon-obsessed decadent dictator sometimes compared to Stalin.[...]"

I used to love auto racing, but now I find it mostly dull. I used to watch Formula 1, Winston Cup, CART, etc. religiously and now I only watch a few select races like the Daytona 500. I think what must have happened is that one day it dawned on me that auto racing was just a bunch of guys driving around in circles all day. Tiresome.

I hate sports.

Even though it's Sunday, I was supposed to have a class this afternoon. So I went and naturally no one was there and the building was locked. So either my schedule is wrong or this is yet another class that got cancelled because nobody signed up for it. I'll have to get this nonsense straightened out tomorrow. At least now I don't have to go to school on a Sunday. (And you know what that means? I get to watch the Daytona 500 live on TV instead having to tape it. Yeee-haa! Sorry, that was the redneck in me getting out. I'll try not to let it happen again.)

My favorite all time spam subject line: "Live Large with a Great Big Manhood!" I'd always wondered why I wasn't living large and now I know. Stupid undersized manhood!

Earlier I got a hit from someone looking for Icelandic porn. (I miss ranting about Icelandic blogs the way I used to.) This search engine thing's going snowball, isn't it?

The same person has hit my blog three times in the past two days searching for some varient of "North Korean porn" or something with Kim Jong Il and porn. Bookmark me already!

Yesterday there were all these stories in the news about 500 or so lost Beatle tapes being found. Why is everyone so excited? If past history is anything to go by, you know damn good and well we're not going to get to hear any of this stuff anytime soon, if ever. McCartney, Ringo, and Yoko are complete assholes when it comes to this sort of thing. Open the vaults, goddammit!

North Korea has been in the news a lot lately, so one would expect that many people have been searching for information on this mysterious, unstable country. What one wouldn't expect is a stream of bizarre porn-related search requests involving either North Korea or Kim Jong Il. Strange things are going on. Where do I start? I know I've been rambling on and on over the past week about getting hits from people looking for some variety of North Korean porn, but this story is getting odder and odder. I've gotten six or seven hits today from people who've never hit my blog before looking for either North Korean porn or porn and Kim Jong Il. One hit was from Turkey. Turkey! Obviously there's a demand of sorts for either North Korean porn or information about Kim Jong Il's love of porn. Sadly, I can't capitalize on this need. I have an innate talent for ferreting out useless, obscure information, but I've so far dug up nothing online that deals with North Korean pornography or Kim Jong Il's love of, or participation in, pornography, except this quote from Michael Moore's new book, Stupid White Men:"[Kim Jong Il]has got to broaden himself beyond porn and John Wayne". I haven't read this book yet, so I don't know what the context was, nor do I know what source, if any, Moore was using.

Below is a list of today's (so far) Korea-related search requests that led to hits on my blog, with the search engine used and where my blog was ranked.

north korean porn --Yahoo -- 1
"Kim Jong il" girl --Turkish Google -- 9
"Kim Jong-il" porn -- Google -- 1
North Korean porn -- Google -- 1
kim jong-il creepy -- Google -- 5
jong il kim weird -- Yahoo -- 7
Korean porn -- Korean Google -- 3

First I mentioned porn, then later I mentioned North Korea which weeks later leads to my blog getting hits from freakos looking for North Korean porn. I wrote something about getting hits from people looking for North Korean porn and that leads to my blog being listed second at Google if you search for "korea porn". I'm undecided if this is good thing or not.

Ugh, my lunch isn't agreeing with me, it keeps trying crawl back out.

This morning I was huddled in front of a heater to get warm and now it's in the low seventies outside. I thought it was winter. Yesterday morning I went to school wearing a coat and flannel shirt and a few hours later I was dripping with sweat.

Methinks I spoke too soon about not having any time to do anything anymore. A little while ago I went to the first meeting of my business math class [shudder] and only one other person showed up. The class was cancelled and I get a refund. Yippee! So that gives me a certain number of extra free hours a week to devote to cannibalism, exoskeletons, porn, hovercrafts, clowns, sub-atomic particles, or whatever asinine subject that strikes my fancy.

No time for cannibalism or exoskeltons! No time! No time! For the next four months or so all I'm going to get to do is homework. Butt-loads of homework. No more endless, slack-jawed sessions in front of the computer blog-slogging; I'll have to hit the high spots and go. I could just puke.

For a change of pace, why not hop over to Google News and do a search on cannibalism. I found far more than I expected. Far, far more.

Last night I was looking through my archives and saw that on Nov. 25 (or was it the 24th?) I posted an entry, then several hours later posted a revised version of the same entry. I didn't even notice. I knew that eventually I'd start repeating myself in this blog, but I didn't think I'd do it on the same day.

When I was little, I'm told I fell while running with a ball point pen in my mouth. It got jammed point first into the roof of my mouth. There was blood and screaming. Thankfully I remember none of this.

I wish I had an exoskeleton. I'd be like a giant ant. Oh, the things I'd do. Perchance to dream.

I have a night class tonight. Accounting. To say I don't want to go would be an enormous understatement. My brain wasn't designed to process numbers, dammit!

In the past few days I've had two people (the same person?) hit my blog as a result of a search at AOL for Robb's Celebs. OK, porn-lovers, here's the link, now wank yourselves to oblivion.

I searched around on Google for North Korean porn, but found none. What I did find was even odder; have a look at this article about North Korean animation studios. Then have a look at the My Dinga site, and make sure all the creepy-ass animations load. North Korea's animation sensation, My Dinga, will soon take over the world and all of your children will demand My Dinga merchandise next Christmas. Trust me. All hail the Great Leader! And for even more fun, type in the My Dinga URL at Babelfish and translate it from Korean into something vaguely approximating English.

About an hour ago somebody hit my blog after searching Google for "porn 'kim jong il'". First I had that weird hit Sunday and now this. Is there actual North Korean porn out there, or have there been rumours of secret homemade porno movies made by Kim Jong Il or Kim Il Sung? Strange. If this stuff exists I'd love to see it--for scientific purposes, naturally.

There's one million registered Blogger users? Scary.

I don't want to go back to school. I hate school. Why can't someone just pay me to sit in front of my computer looking at dumb stuff all day? It'd be like the government paying farmers not to grow crops. (There's an analogy here somewhere...)

It's a damn good thing I don't have the desire to breed.

This afternoon I tried to find a blog written in Klingon. I was unsuccessful.

I have to start school on Wednesday, so I have to put all my projects on the back burner like building a robot army to conquer the world, raising apes for fun and profit, taking sugestive photos of lawn furniture, periodically raffling myself off as "Jo-Jo: King of the Monkey-Boys", chasing cars, making distilled spirits from squirrels, cloning grannies, stealing mules, making movies about garden slugs, and masturbating.

Some weirdo found my blog by doing a search at Yahoo for "north korea porn kim". (I think I was listed 56th.) Huh? Did they mean porn featuring Kim Il Sung or Kim Jong Il? I'd like to see some of that myself. Mmmm...communist porn.

A few minutes ago I found a blog that's left me utterly bewildered. Just what is this person doing? And why have they been doing it for so long? Very peculiar.

This morning at my local thrift store I saw an ancient contraption that made the little holes in IBM punch cards. My mother used to work at a place that used punch cards back in the 70's and she'd bring home stacks of them to re-use as note cards. I've still got several. I found a picture of a punch card online, but I couldn't find a picture of that particular machine.

I've been poking around my sister's recently trashed webpage and discovered that quite a bit of it's still up. All of the Bun Co. material is still up, as far as I can tell. Search around for the links to pages that are still active, it's worth you while. Really. I wouldn't lead you into a maze of dead ends and misery. (Hey, there's an idea for a web page.) And some of the Unspeakable Industries material is still up also, like the desktop icons pages where you can finally download those Dr. Who and Babylon 5 icons you've been searching for, because after all, who doesn't want a Dalek recycle bin? There's tons of icons. Why she got so into making icons I'll never know; her persistence was almost pathological.

I was going to write something really clever and interesting today that would really impress everyone, but I couldn't think of anything. Sorry.

Since I hadn't driven anywhere in almost two weeks, I decided to actually leave the property this morning. The problem was I had nowhere to go. After I left the gas station, I headed into town. I had no idea where I was going. (I should warn you up front that nothing of interest happened. Sorry.) The first thing I noticed as drove along was that it seemed everyone on the streets was insanely angry. One guy slammed on breaks in front of me to yell at the guy who'd cut him off. Or at least I think that's what was going on; they may have just been having a conversation, because, after all, this is a town of morons.

I headed straight into the bowels of the inferno itself, Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart has everything--except what I was looking for (a replacement drawer handle). I try to avoid this store like the plague, but it keeps luring me back with a siren song promising huge bargains. And each and every time I end up dashed upon the rocks. Stupid-ass redneck hell-hole.

Since I had to go to the bathroom I decided to head home, but instead I ended up at Goodwill digging through old books (an activity I rank above food, sleep, and masturbation). Oddly, I found eight or nine old volumes in Danish. Danes? In a jerkwater hillbilly town with a population of less than 60,000? But then I once found a bunch of old books in Swedish, and I've also found books in Russian, Greek, Portuguese, Spanish, French, Korean, German, Italian, Chinese, Finnish, Dutch, Japanese, Polish, and Afrikaans in this same store, so I shouldn't be surprised. (Why do I always have such relish when digging through the foreign language books? I can't read any of them.)

And then I went home. The end. See, I told you nothing happened, but still you read on. Why? Why?!

The New Year lurched in with indifference while I watched TV. New Year's Eve has never been particularly interesting to me. The closest thing to a New Year's Eve party I've ever been to was two or three years ago when I worked second shift and we all said, "Happy New Year!" as we jammed our cards in the punch-clock at midnight. And last night all I did at midnight was switch the TV from Degrassi back to AbFab, and then stick my head back in the GIMP book I'm reading.

The only thing I've ever wanted to do on New Year's Eve is hop in a supersonic jet and try to outrun the new year. I'd start in New Zealand and travel west, stopping along the way to enjoy 24 more hours than everyone else--or something like that.

Back when the old millennium was ending (and I'm referring to the real end on Dec. 31, 2000, not the sham ending on Dec. 31, 1999) I got a mild kick out of listening to radio broadcasts from different time zones. No, really. First I listened to the BBC World Service from the UK where the New Year had already hit, so in effect I was listening to a broadcast from the future--the 21st century. And then after the New Year hit here, I listened to a broadcast coming out of Chicago, which was still in the 20th century. That was a once in a lifetime opportunity--even if it was pretty lame. (God, I'm such a nerd.)