Tuesday, September 30, 2003

The Insanatron.

This is either the most annoying or the most fascinating thing online. I can't decide. (Turn your speakers on.) [Link via Presurfer.]
Car Trouble, part IIX

As I pulled into the school parking lot, something about the car suddenly felt odd. I can't explain the feeling, but I could tell something wasn't right. I parked it, turned off the engine, and saw smoke coming out from under the hood. I thought, Great, now it's on fire. I popped the hood open and stood there as smoke poured from one spot. I pretended I knew what I was looking for. Mainly I was making sure the car actually wasn't on fire. If it had been I probably would've started jumping up and down and yelling, "My car's on fire! My car's on fire!" But it wasn't on fire, there was engine coolant, or something like that, spraying on the engine from a leak in seal. Or something. I don't know.

From behind me I heard a girl yell, "Sir! Sir! Do you need my cell phone?" (I know I'm older than her, but does she have to rub it in?) I told her I didn't need it.

After the smoke let up I just got my books and went to class. What else could I have done? If it burned up at least the damn thing's insured.

Monday, September 29, 2003

Wreck of the Old 97.

Saturday was 100th anniversary of the wreck of the Old 97, one of my hometown's few claims to moderate fame. The wreck, while tragic, wasn't exactly catastrophic. The only reason anyone other than local historians even remembers it is because of the song, "The Wreck of the Old 97", which has been recorded over 1,000 times since the 20's.

If the above whetted your appetite for blood-soaked old time folk and country music, The Blue Ridge Institute and Museum has an online exhibit called Deathly Lyrics: Songs of Virginia Tragedies with many articles, photos, lyrics, and audio clips.
The lost art of album jacket design.

Yesterday afternoon I found the Bizarre Records Index. [Warning: frames and claustrophobic web design.] Not as good as the amazing Show and Tell Music, but definately worth a look if you like strange record cover art.
Praise the Lord and pass your checkbook.

Hate those money-grubbing evangelists? Well, have a look at Snake Oil's guide to Kooky Kontemporary Kristian Kulture.
I'm more confused than usual.

Is this in English? I found it while playing with the random Blogger link.

Sunday, September 28, 2003

Prefatory note.

The following is a rambling diatribe.

BBC America: The dregs of the high-brows.

My Saturday afternoons have now been freed up thanks to cartel of imbeciles who run BBC America. I got word that they've finally done what I've been expecting them to do for over a year, cancel EastEnders. They've been whining about low ratings since summer of last year, and it's no surprise the show is low rated since they only air it in an interminable two and half hour chunk. But yet they repeat everything else on the channel endlessly. They've got five episodes of The Office and they must've have shown them a hundred or more times apiece. I'm exaggerating, but not by much. Virtually every time I turn to BBC America, they're showing something I've already seen--and I don't even watch the damn channel that much.

Maybe EastEnders would've been a little more successful if instead of one two and a half hour showing (which even I find hard to take at times) they showed individual episodes during the week. Promoting it would probably have helped. But showing EastEnders during the week would've cut into the nine or ten hours a day they show Changing Rooms and Ground Force. And don't think we EastEnders fans didn't suggest that BBC America show the program in a more reasonable manner. We sent emails, we complained on the message-boards, we signed a petition, and someone even set up a protest site. BBC America responded by threatening legal action against the protest site owner for trademark infringement, censored our postings on the message-bords [scroll down], and ignored our suggestions about implementing a more reasonable schedule that wasn't filled with repeats of the same two or three programs.

We had a small reprieve. Maybe we saved EastEnders for almost a year longer, but I knew BBC America hated the program and wanted an excuse to cancel it.

Meanwhile, I'll be reduced to watching two episodes a week from 1999 on a local PBS channel, but who knows for how much longer. According the EastEnders fan site Walford Gazette, there's only 16 PBS stations left in the US that show it anymore. Ultimately the demise of EastEnders in the US won't be the fault of the morons who run the BBC America, but the morons who run the BBC in the UK who are pricing the show out of the budgets of most PBS stations. If they'd reduce the price of the show then more stations would show it, therefore the BBC would make more money. Why can't they grasp this? It may be the most popular TV show in history the UK has ever seen, but outside the UK, particularly in the US, it's a cult program and should be priced accordingly. But the BBC seems to be under the impression that if it's a huge hit in the UK then it should be generating enormous amounts of cash everywhere. Why can't they seem to understand that PBS stations get much of their funding from viewer donations?

I'm ranting and rambling, I know, and I've drifted away from my utter hatred of all things BBC America to an attack on the BBC who I don't hate (that much). Be patient with me, I'm really pissed off.

BBC America could've been great. People like me ("cultured", smarty pants types) have enjoyed British TV shows on PBS for years and years. We've wished we had a channel that showed the kind of programs we liked 24 hours a day. BBC America could've been that channel. Most television networks in the US are aimed at the lowest common denominator; BBC America seems to be satisfied with aiming at the lowest common denomenator of the "cultured", smarty pants types: the dregs of the high-brows.

Saturday, September 27, 2003

Candy tobacco products, part II.

A couple of days ago I went on a nostalgic trip down to the candy store where they sold candy cigarettes, bubblegum cigarettes, bubblegum chewing tobacco, etc. Well, after doing a little research, I found out that most of what I mentioned is still available in this country. In fact, most of it can be ordered online. There's many online stores that sell this sort of thing, but Groovy Candies, which is aimed at the nostalgia crowd, has virtually everything I mentioned, and some things I didn't: bubblegum cigarettes, candy cigarettes, and even bubblegum cigars which I hadn't thought of in years. I've never had chocolate cigarettes, but I easily found a company selling them. And I thought Big League Chew, the bubblegum in a chewing tobacco pouch, had gone the way of the dodo, but it's still made. Here's the official site.
"Own a bowlfull of happiness."

Super Marketing is a gallery of all of those strange, ridiculous, and sometimes just creepy ads that used to appear in comic books. [Link via Metafilter.]

Friday, September 26, 2003

American television executives should be eaten by rats.

The American version of the British sitcom Coupling debuted last night. I could only watch about ten or fifteen minutes of it before I turned the TV off. I taped it, but who knows if I'll summon up the strength I'll need to endure the rest of it. I don't know why American production companies feel the need to remake British TV shows. Almost always these remakes are horrible beyond comprehension. I suppose one of the things that made this new version of Coupling so tortuous was that I've seen all the British episodes several times each, particularly the early ones.

There's been some truly awful American remakes of British programs, like the three different versions of Fawlty Towers, that have been inflicted upon us in the past twenty years. One version had Bea Arthur (yes, Bea Arthur) in the Basil Fawlty roll.

Then there was that rotten remake of The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, a very funny and fairly bizarre British sitcom from the seventies. The American version was called Reggie. I think it got cancelled after one episode; let's speak of it no more.

They haven't all been bad though. Sanford and Son was one the funniest American sitcoms of the seventies. It was a remake of Steptoe and Son, which I've never seen (but I did hear the radio version on the BBC World Service a few times in the early eighties). They even used the same scripts; somehow it all worked.

I recoiled in horror a month or two back when I read that there was going to be an American remake of Father Ted. A sane man can only take so much.

Thursday, September 25, 2003

I got nothing.

I usually prepare most, and sometimes all, of my entries the night before if I can. Last night I didn't. And now, of course, I have absolutely nothing to write about. My suggestion: give me a few hours and then come back. If I haven't written anything else by 3:00 PM EST (1900 GMT), then give up. Come back tomorrow and maybe I'll have had another fascinating encounter with the wild turkeys or will have been attacked by a bear. Something. Anything.
"It's alive! It's alive!"

Awful Plastic Surgery features the strange and sometimes hideous plastic surgery disasters of the rich and famous. Maybe you should look at this one after lunch. [Link via J-Walk.]
I don't typically read online comics.

After a little over a year, Scott McCloud's Morning Improv has returned. McCloud improvises a comicstrip (sometimes daily, sometimes weekly) with a title suggested by readers. Funny stuff, but the bastard has never chosen any of my suggested titles.

The rest of his site is also worth a visit. If all of us were only a quarter as clever as McCloud we'd be lucky.
It's just that simple.

Read Scaryduck's "Top Tips for Bloggers" and you too can become a "[...]world famous squillionaire webmaster, beating nubile young ladies away with a shitty stick."

Wednesday, September 24, 2003

A slightly more useful database.

I debated about whether or not I should link to the Internet Adult Film Database, but I decided to go ahead because it's (a) kind of useful, (b) kind of ridiculous, and (c) I'm taking a database class so I find this sort of thing weirdly fascinating. (I suppose since it has to do with porn it's not really safe for work.)
Almost useful. Well, not really.

William Shun's Completely Insane Music Collection is a slick database of William Shun's record collection. Nothing else. I imagine this database is useful to William Shun and people who are curious as to what's in William Shun's record collection, but no one else.

And don't ask me who William Shun is because I don't know.
Some tiresome vignettes.

Yesterday as I left the house to go to my miserable night class I met two wild turkeys loitering in the front yard. They were about fifteen or twenty feet away. As soon as I stepped out they began trotting away toward the woods. I seriously thought of tossing my books down and chasing them accross the yard, but I just moped to my car instead.

When I got to school this morning I quickly realized I'd left my programming homework at home. Luckily I don't live that far away so I drove back home. When I got back to class I got to see the teacher attempt to sit in a swivel chair and miss. He ended up almost flat on his back on the floor. He was OK, but it was more horrifying to me than funny. What if he'd cracked his head open? I don't know first aid. And why can't this sort of thing happen to the teachers I really don't like?
Some recent inexplicable search requests.

half human half chimp, "they look like toilets", naked girls of western sizzlin, describe him as witty, pictures of graphs about people who hate the internet, "microsoft employees" who commit crimes, buffo toads, john entwistle big penis, Jong-il email Company Limited , making pirate card to watch chinese channels, all kinds of penises

Tuesday, September 23, 2003


Over the past few months I've linked to various 3-D sites. Some of you may wonder why I keep coming back to this same subject over and over. Well, it all started with View-Master. One of my favorite things when I was growing up was looking at View-Master reels. The reels I most enjoyed were the ones that were basically dioramas built in a studio. These were like tiny, self-contained worlds. I'd spend much of my viewing time studying the backgrounds and the detailed props. The documentary photographic series reels were (and still are) enjoyable and fascinating, but it was those miniature studio sets that had my full attention.

I've dug through Google to gather together some of the more interesting View-Master sites.

The View-Master was formally made by GAF, but is now owned by Fisher-Price. They have a selection of reels that's surprisingly current.

View-Master Information has historic information on reels, viewers, cameras, etc.

The Australian Viewmaster & 3D Page focuses on Australian built View-Masters, their knock-offs, and other similar items.

Viewmaster.nl is a large site with tons of information, photos, and who knows what else. The problem is that it's all in Dutch, thus rendering it quite useless to large sections of the world's population. But it's a cool site if you just want to look at pictures of vintage equipment.

Studio 3-D makes custom View-Master reels in small quantities.

3dstereo.com sells new and vintage View-Master items in addition to virtually every other 3-D item known to man or beast.

You can see and control a wire-frame "Tribute to the Viewmaster" java applet that's (oddly) in anaglyphic 3-D format. Clever, but utterly useless. And now that I think about it, I don't even know why I included this link.

Monday, September 22, 2003

Candy cigarettes.

Here's a gallery of candy cigarette packages from around the world.

When I was little I always liked the packaging of candy cigarettes better than the cigarettes themselves. As candy, they were pretty bland fare.

I also remember bubble gum cigarettes. They were soft bubble gum wrapped in thin white paper. It always annoyed me when I'd peel the paper off that it would always stick to the gum.

In a similar moral void was the shredded bubble gum in the chewing tobacco pouch and the ground up bubble gum in the snuff can. These two were my personal favorites. Haven't seen either in years. [Link via Presurfer.]
My car woes continue.

I drove my repaired car for the first time today. In the school parking lot I had to put the car into reverse and, when I did it, something weird happened. The car didn't feel right and I wasn't even sure it was running. I pushed the accelerator; it was running. I backed into the parking space. When I got out I saw I'd left a trail of liquid starting where I'd put the car into reverse. And now a green puddle was forming beneath the engine. Engine coolant. Lovely.
This is too stupid to make up.

Last night, while in the midst of utter boredom, I hit the Random Blogger link and the first thing that popped up was Virginia Strip Club List. As luck would have it, I live in Virginia.

The third blog I hit was Kentucky Strip Club List. Is there one of these for every state in the Union? Let's try North Dakota. Yep. And I tried all the boring states like Utah, Montana, Alaska, etc. Every one of them had a site. How dull.

Sunday, September 21, 2003

I can't help myself.

Here's today's obligatory link to Show and Tell Music. I think this may be the scariest record cover art ever, and this may very well be the scariest album ever recorded.
I don't have a clue.

I ran accross this yesterday and I can't fathom it. The site features a female doll photographed in various situations as if she were a model. There's lots of photos, but I only looked at a few of them. (I couldn't stand the idea of a piece of plastic having more of a life than I do.) The photos don't seem to be sexual in any blatant way; this isn't some violent, disturbing tableau like the work of Surrealist artist Hans Bellmer, but something about this stuff is vaguely unsettling. Maybe if I could read the Japanese text I'd find it all perfectly logical and innocuous. Maybe. [Link via 104 Random Altavista Pictures.]
Would the Great Leader approve?

The North Koreans have been getting up to some rather odd things recently in an effort to make money. I found an online lottery scheme late last year. They also have an online casino. I can't imagine real communists resorting to this kind of stuff to scrape up cash. They'll have an eBay-type site next, I suppose.

The oddest thing for me about these sites is that they're offering freeware, especially something called VOD Recorder, which supposedly allows one to record "[...]TV and radio program without TV cards or VCRs." And it's "[...]capable of recording movies, internet programs, music, and music videos available on the internet, and allows you to record and enjoy realtime radio and TV broadcasts without the use of a VCR." I've done quite a bit of searching on VOD Recorder on Google, but all the references to this specific program were in either Korean or Japanese. I don't think I'm brave enough to download North Korean software yet, so don't wait for a product review anytime soon.

Saturday, September 20, 2003

I washed my hands before I typed this.

I like to think of my blog as a public service. The information I present is so diverse that I doubt there's a person alive that won't find some kernal of useful information here. So, I present to you, Jackin' World: "The Ultimate Male Masturbation Resource". But, you say, I don't want to look at porn! Well, it's not porn, it's instructions. [Link via Idle Words.]

In a similarly useful vein is All About My Penis. (It's not my penis, mind you, it's someone else's.) And because I don't want to leave out the women, here's All About My Vagina. [Link via Kristiv's Weird Existence (an Icelandic blog in English!).]

Update: I've been informed by Sara of Corn Smut that there's a sort of female equivalent of the Jackin' World site called Clitical.
This headline isn't descriptive at all.

I don't want to keep pimping Show and Tell Music everyday, but I don't think any of you grasped just how cool this site is. Last night I spent an hour or more there happily looking at bizarre album covers and listening to some deeply strange .mp3 samples. At least humour me with a cursory glance.
AAAHH! Put those away!

Yesterday I found out about The Militant Breastfeeding Cult. Now I'm scared. [Link via Go Ahead Lili.]

Friday, September 19, 2003

Unbatten the hatches!

I survived the hurricane. There wasn't much damage, just a lot of tree limbs knocked down. The power was out for about forty minutes. Mainly it was like any other day, except for the distractingly loud wind. I have a hand held wind guage, but I really didn't feel like going outside to give it a good test. More than likely it would've been blown out of my hand and I would've never seen it again.

In other news, school's cancelled. I wish I'd found this out before being woken up by alarm at 6:30. (Actually, now that I think about it, the alarm didn't wake me up, my bladder got me up ten minutes earlier.)
FBI files for everyone.

It's not an actualy government site, but The FBI Files has lots of genuine FBI files on celebrities, unexplained phenomenon, etc. available for download in .pdf format. The downside? Some of these files are a tad huge. I tried to download an early file on Lucille Ball (don't ask), but, according to my download manager, it was going to take over twenty minutes on my dial-up connection. Needless to say, I stopped the download.
Pichers of nekkid wimmen!

People keep hitting my blog after doing a search for things like stereographic nudes, anaglyphic nudes, etc. So, mainly out of sense of duty to any hapless web surfer who may drift this way (and not out of throbbing, sweaty perversion), I've dug up a couple more links to add to those I listed on my September 6 entry on this same subject.

Boris Starosta's Stereoscopic Art of 3-D Photography is mainly an add for a CD-ROM, but there's lots of free samples of 3-D nudes in both stereographic and anaglypic forms.

3-D Beauty, another Boris Starosta site, also features free samples (although probably the same stuff as above).

My favorite of these (purely for scientific purposes, mind you) is still Erotica Photographica. Tons of free photos.

Thursday, September 18, 2003

Does Circuit City stock these?

This has been knocked around a little in my comments, but I thought I'd put up a proper link to it. The North Koreans have a computer printer that prints out photos on polished stone tablets. I'm sure it's more trouble than it's worth, but I'd love to have one of these. And I'm almost 100% positive that the North Koreans aren't the only ones with this technology.
Batten down the hatches!

The hurricane should hit sometime in the afternoon. According the projected path it's supposed to take, it's going to come right through here. We go through this sort of thing every few years and nothing much happens except for flooding and occasional power outages, but either way it's no fun when the wind is blowing so hard the house groans. I'm glad I'm 200 miles from the coast.

My life is worth about six dollars an hour.

Once I was working this crummy second shift temp job at a jerkwater textile mill when a hurricane blew through. I figured they'd let us out early, because...you know...WE COULD ALL DIE. But they kept us there the whole time. When I went out into the parking lot at 11:30 PM it was raining sideways. I held my umbrella like a shield in front of me and surprisingly didn't get that wet. There weren't that many vehicles on the streets, but several of the ones I did see were from the National Guard.

About a mile from home I have to cross a tiny bridge that often disappears during flooding. As I approached the bridge a car in front of me slowed down severely. I just assumed he/she was slowing to make sure the bridge was still above water, but the car made a left turn into the parking lot of a nightclub, the only building in that area. I guessed the car was going to turn around, but when I looked at the parking lot I saw it was full. Hurricane party?

The bridge was still there and I drove home. The next day, the bridge had vanished under a small temporary lake.
Thrift store goldmine.

I spent way, way too much time at Show and Tell Music last night. (I stumbled across it while searching Google for Bettie Page photos.) If you have even the slightest interest in weird record cover art I strongly suggest you check out their galleries because there's some truly amazing stuff here.

A somewhat similar site is Pulp Morgue, which features many examples of old "disposable" artwork like album covers, movie posters, book covers, etc. [Link via J-Walk.]

Wednesday, September 17, 2003

The victorious proletariat shouldn't have moles and warts.

North Korea needs cash, so they've set up a web site that shows off all of the many unique products they produce, such as stamps, precious metals, accordions, etc. My own personal favorite is Beauty Appliance MN-63B, a dangerous-looking device that's supposed to burn off warts, moles, freckles, eczema, haemorrhoids, etc. When I think beauty North Korea always comes first to my mind.
Blowed away.

It's an absolutely perfect, gorgeous day. Not hot and not too cool. No clouds are visible anywhere. Tomorrow the hurricane comes. Thankfully I'm 200 miles inland.

Tuesday, September 16, 2003


I'm not entirely sure if the Federal Vampire and Zombie Agency "tribute" web site is serious or not, but it's certainly bizarre. [Link via J-Walk.]
Creepy crawl.

Around 3:30 in the morning, as I happily dreamt of busty maidens, I was jolted awake by something tickling me. I sleep alone: no wife, no girlfriend, no cat, no dog, no wacky robot side-kick. My mind, naturally, fell back on its old standby, panic. I launched myself out of bed and turned the light on. I may have jumped up and down to get whatever was on me to fall off. I can't remember. On the floor was a cricket. I quickly disposed of him and went back to bed. No, that's not true. I caught it. It escaped, leaving me holding a twitching rear leg which, when I realized what I was holding, I flung away like a hot nail. The cricket, now reduced to five legs, could only hop in circles. I pounced on it and escorted the thing to the transporter room (i.e. the toilet).

I hate crickets. I especially hate this time of year when it starts to get a little coolish outside and the crickets come into the house and chirp all night long with a machine-like persistence. There is no gentle chirping when a cricket is in your ceiling at 2:00 AM only six feet from your head. No, it's more like an endless mechanical screeching that makes it impossible to sleep. If you've never before experienced this type of torture, I can't adequately describe just how loud one horny cricket can be. At least roaches don't make noise.

Monday, September 15, 2003

The mark of the mole.

I've fixed up the image blog a little. It now has an actual title instead of that lame default title. And it has a new template. The new title: The Mole Concept. No, it wasn't inspired by the Residents' Mole Show (which I don't own, nor have I heard). Before I named it I was looking at an old school filmstrip (remember those?) that I saved from the trash when I worked at the snooty school for rich girls. It's called The Mole Concept. The title's as good or better than anything I could've come up with.
They say the mind's the first thing to go.

Last night I was listening to the first Clash album. I had the CD in my computer so I could listen while perusing whatever useless drivel the internet offered up. About seven or so songs in, I thought, I'm going to have flip it over soon so I can hear side two. Now I have an old copy of this album on vinyl, so it's a little understandable to get mixed up, but I wasn't listening to my stereo. And my computer doesn't have a turntable connected to it. At this rate I'll be senile by the time I'm fifty.
Do they even have electricity there?

What's the oddest, most out of the way country you've gotten a hit from? In over ten months of furious blogging, I've gotten hits from people all over the world: England, Australia, Panama, Japan, Egypt, Nepal, Iceland, even Canada. But the oddest, most out of the way place I've gotten hits from would have to be Mongolia. And I haven't gotten just one hit either, I've gotten 16 (according to my Nedstat counter). From what little I know about Mongolia, it's a large, sparsely populated country and many of its inhabitants live a life not that different from their nomadic forebears. I don't typically picture them searching Google for porn, but apparently some of them spend time doing just that. Porn is the international language.

Sunday, September 14, 2003

Get out of my computer!

Font Browser is a web site that mysteriously looks into your system and shows what fonts are currently on it and gives examples of what they look like. Browser Spy mysteriously looks into your system and tells you things about it that you really didn't want to know. Are these utilities useful or just creepy? [Link via Metafilter.]
Ultra neato.

Aussie RocketCam has technical information about attaching tiny wireless video cameras to model rockets, but I recommend you go there for the really cool video clips of the rockets being launched. I'd love to try this sort of thing with a kite. [Link via Slashdot.]

While searching Google last night, I found the Toonopedia, a large database with lots of information on cartoons and comicbooks. It's both useful and a great way to waste a lot of time.

Saturday, September 13, 2003

"[...]the trend is for forestation."

Bleh!. [Link via LYD.]

There's another found photo site, Time Tales. [Link via J-Walk. (He's back!)]

My two favorite sites for found material are still Found magazine and Royal Journal of Found Art.

On the local news a few days ago I saw a story on a woman (who lives just outside of my town) that saw a black bear in her yard. I'm sure some of you who live in the more bear-infested parts of the world are probably saying things like, One bear? Hell, where I live, every morning I have to get a broom and shoo two or three full grown grizzlies off my car before I can go to work. Well, bears aren't that common around here. The area where I live is technically inside the city limits, but it's semi-rural, so it wouldn't be out the question to see a bear around here. I doubt it'll happen, though. My luck I'll see a bear, then it'll maul me.
And you thought you were clever.

StreamingMedia (H2O/IP) uses water to transmit data between computers. [Link via The Register.]

Friday, September 12, 2003

More peculiar search requests.

kim jong il rickenbacker

Did the Rickenbacker guitar company come out with a special Kim Jong Il limited edition commemorative model? What else could this searcher have been looking for?

sex pistols diary template


how do you stop shoes from squeaking?

If I could market a anti-squeaking agent for shoes I'd make a decent living according to how many times I've gotten this search request. But since I have no plans to market anything, I'll give you the answer free: coat your shoes in Alberto VO5 Conditioning Hairdressing. That information is from Joey Green's web site, Wacky Uses.
Born 200 years too late and 200 years too soon.

Johnny Cash finally died. There aren't many of his caliber left anymore. Who else is left? Jerry Lee Lewis, George Jones, Chuck Berry, and James Brown are the only names that quickly come to mind.

On any day of the week I'll take one Johnny Cash over a whole shipload of Garth Brookses, Toby Keiths, and all those other witless, slick Nashville bozos. And if anyone ever managed to get all those jackasses together on one ship I'd strongly recommend that it be torpedoed at once.
Icky, simply icky.

Of all the Flash animated clocks available, the Cable Clock is the creepiest. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't entended to be creepy. [Link via Metafilter.]

Wednesday, September 10, 2003

New Blogger features!

Blogger's giving us new features like a spell check, so even semi-literate cavemen like me can now appear to be erudite. (Bizarrely, Blogger's spell check doesn't contain the word Blogger.)

Now why can't they give us built-in comments like some of the lesser blogging services?

I've had the partial use of my mother's car over the past couple of days. This morning I parked it, shut it off, and then couldn't get the door unlocked. I kept mashing the button, but nothing happened. Panic set in. When I panic, logical thought is all but lost to me. The first solution I thought of was to drive back home, honk the horn until someone came out, and scream, "I can't get the doors open!" Then I remembered the windows. I've watched enough NASCAR races to know that you don't really need doors on a car. But if I did that, then I'd have to leave the car parked with the window down. Can't do that. What now? Eventually it occurred to me that the car has a manual lever to lock and unlock the doors.

It's a wonder I'm able to function at all.
Prepare to be underwhelmed.

OK, here's the link to my pitiful new image blog. (I don't really feel like calling it a photo blog since I plan on posting all different kinds of images.)

I signed up for the Tabulas blog back in March sometime. I can't even remember how I found the site, but they had something up on their homepage about the first 2,000 people to sign up could get free accounts. So I signed up, knowing full well I'd never use the damn thing. (I've got four other blogs I never use for anything.)

I don't really like the Tabulas blogs. They seem harder to customize (I may be wrong) and I don't like the idea that you have to have an account with them to be able to put comments on someone's site. But it's really easy to post images. And, or course, it's free.
Ansel Adams never did this.

This new El Cheapo brand digital camera isn't all it's cracked up to be. The thing will suddenly stop working for no reason at all and I lose all my pictures. I think it's draining the batteries. So I'm going to have to take the batteries out of it when I'm not using it. And I'm not talking about taking the batteries out of it if I plan not use it for a month, I'm talking about taking the batteries out if I'm not going to be using it for a few hours. It's a lovely device that I'm sure I'll thoroughly enjoy taking apart one day.

I went to El Cheapo's site and don't even see the thing listed among their current products anymore. It's been discontinued. How lovely.

Tuesday, September 09, 2003

I'm bored.

They should have people you can hire to come to house and amuse you. Oh, wait, they already have those--they're called prostitutes. But that's not what I'm interested in. Or clowns. No hookers or clowns. Or clown hookers. Magicians? That'd get old. Maid? Butler? A butler might be amusing, but I imagine they just wan't to do butler stuff.

I'm bored.

J-Walk is shuttting down. There goes one of the high points of my internet days.
Make him stop!

Back at the beginning of summer I bought one of those ultra-cheap digital cameras. You know the type that cost between $15-$30 and are usually found in hanging in blister-packs near the cash register. I paid $25 for mine and I knew up front that it would be a piece of junk. But I wanted a new toy, so I bought it. Once I got it home I couldn't get it to work, no matter what I did. The camera would tell me I had photos in it, but the software on my computer would tell me there were no photos in the camera. I couldn't return it because of the asinine return policy of the store I bought it from. It ended up spending the next three months in a box, almost completely forgotten. I'd planned on attacking it again, but I just didn't have the energy.

Monday I got it out, reinstalled the software, got the computer to detect the camera, etc. and then something totally unexpected happened--the thing actually worked. So now I'm in possession of a digital camera. So what, you say. Go away, you boring imbecile, you say. Ah, but you're missing the point by focusing on my obvious talent to irritate. What this all means is that I can now start that most dreaded of things, the photo blog. So now I can not only annoy and bore people with my words, but also with my mind-numbingly stupid and boring low resolution photos. I've already started it, but since there's only two pictures in it, I'm not going to link to it yet. I'll probably wait until I have maybe three pictures.
Get a horse.

My Dad is sort of making headway on my car. He replaced the timing gear thingy that had been badly stripped. It runs, but now he tells me that some kind of rod or rods are bent and have to be replaced. Whatever. I don't know anything about cars and as far as I know they're powered by a dozen or more magic pixies furiously peddling away on little exercise bicycles.

Monday, September 08, 2003

My biggest fan!

OK, this is really obnoxious and sexist and stupid and etc. (not mention not quite safe for work), but I simply couldn't resist.

Make your own varient here. [Link via J-Walk.]
Bonnie and Clyde.

Saturday afternoon I was flipping the channels, bored out of my mind, and I came across a program on Bonnie and Clyde. I've been interested in these two for years and so I dug up a selection of links. First there's the long, detailed Bonnie and Clyde: Romeo and Juliet in a Getaway Car; a documentary (?), Raquel Poliandro's Bonnie and Clyde (very interesting site, but it's a real pig to load unless you're on a broadband connection); an urban legend from Snopes; for tons of pictures, go to Bonnie and Clyde's Hideout; the FBI have a historical site; and there's a .pdf file available from the FBI that was released under the Freedom of Information Act.
What do you mean I can't turn that thing off?

I Work with Fools was in my banner ad last week. It's a sort of community blog where people submit their amusing tales of woe about the morons they work with. The site's most annoying feature is the "Boss Key", which moves with you as you scroll, but I suppose it would be useful if the boss was heading toward your desk. They should include a check box to turn the damn thing off, though.
"Honest, Officer, it's art!"

"Streetart is a collaborative weblog for photos of DIY posters, guerilla stickers, home-made stencils &c." [Link via Metafilter.]

When I posted this the Streetart site was down. Typical. I imagine it'll be back up later, because I've hit it once today and a couple of times yesterday.

Sunday, September 07, 2003

"Honest, Doc, I fell on it."

An internet classic, Rectal Foreign Bodies. [Link via J-Walk.]
Further evidence of the total breakdown of society.

Here's a selection of some of the bizarre and/or scary search requests people have used to stumble across my blog:

yucky scary woman, mule's fat, obscure pirate poetry, what does henry blake in mash wear?, red/blue 3-d afro, wrestling+woman wow, grannies masturbating, rhodesian porn
The sickness.

Last September I became obsessed with the idea of getting a laptop. And when I say obsessed, I mean totally obsessed to the point of it almost becoming a psychiatric disorder. I just had to have one. It didn't have to be a new one either; if I'd found an ancient 386 that still worked I would've bought it, put DOS on it, and happily write away on a text editor. I'd look in the classified ads everyday for police auctions (I never saw one) and spend way too much time at various web sites that sold ancient laptops.

The thing about old laptops that aways amazed me was that if you had a stack of 486's, people would buy them for $50-$100 appiece. But if you had a bunch of six year old Pentium desktops, you'd practically have to give them away. Functioning laptops, no matter how, old are in demand. Maybe people want them for the same reason I do, so they can write on the couch while watching TV.

I never did buy a laptop and over time the obessesion waned. It's September again and I can feel the desire coming back.

Saturday, September 06, 2003

A gloriously stupid idea.

I should put one of those Pay Pal donate buttons on my sidebar to raise money so I can buy a car. I'd get like, what, eight cents?
Posting in the void.

The Blogger empire has been suffering a denial-of-service attack all day. I managed to hit my blog early this morning, but I don't think I've been able to hit any hosted by Blogger's servers all day.
History's Bunk!

For most of this week I've listened to virtually nothing but classic Gang of Four. I thought of looking for a web site devoted to them, but didn't bother for some reason. And then yesterday out of the blue I found out about Not Great Men, what looks to be a very interesting fan site. And I found out about the official page of former Gang of Four guitarist Andy Gill. Gill is a genius of dissonance. Often the only thing he'd play would be intricately sculpted noise, but it was never just choatic screeching and clanging. He both understood and had control over what he was doing.[Links via The Cartoonist.]
Warning: Unbridled Nudity! In 3-D!

A month or so back I mentioned anaglyphs (the type of 3-D imaging that requires the glasses with the red and blue lenses), and since then I've gotten multiple hits for people looking for porn/nude/etc. anaglyphs. Today, out of total boredom (and slobbering perversion) I decided to see if I could dig up some. I found one that was a sample at some nudie site. The 3-D effect is quite good. At Erotica Photographica I hit the motherload. There's all kinds of 3-D nudity. I mainly looked at the cool selection of free stereoscopic nudes rather than the anaglyphs. Great, but headache inducing.

A cool non-nude anaglyphic 3-D site is Steve's 3-D. I also found a site called Nude Anaglyphs, but, to my great disappointment, it seems to contain no nudes. The 3-D images are very good, despite the false advertising.
File under: Huh?

Have you ever been in your bathroom and despaired at your dull, boring old tiles? Well, why not spice things up with custom made tiles featuring bondage and fetish images? You can even use your own pictures! (Not safe for work.) [Link via Jane's Guide.]

Friday, September 05, 2003

And it only gets worse.

My car was towed to the local Buick dealer. They estimate that it'll cost $1,300 to fix it--and they don't even know what's wrong with it. Needless to say, I'm not spending $1,300 to fix a seventeen year old car that, when it actually ran, I couldn't have sold for more than $1,300.

My Dad said he'd try to fix it. The operative word in that sentence is try.

I'm pretty much counting on having to dip into my dwindling savings to buy some clunker that won't last a year.
Grease-painted demons haunt my every waking second.

I've found a few sites that have information on the ancient origin of clowns. The last link is a treasure trove of Usenet ranting.

This guy says the origin clowns are slur against Irish/Scottish folk. Yep. That's what he said.

I also found a short history of American tramp clowns. And, no, they didn't originate among a race of garbage eating mutants. So much for that theory.

And remember, somewhere there's a factory that makes clown shoes.
Oh, the agony is endless.

I'm late posting because my car broke down on my way to school; there were funny lights on the dashboard, strange noises from the engine, etc. Lovely. I parked it in some grass and began the nearly mile long walk back home. I was in a fairly populated neighborhood, but I didn’t see anyone. You’d think someone would want to know what I was doing.

I walked about a quarter mile and realized I’d left my keys in the ignition, so I turned around and began walking back. After a few minutes a cousin (and neighbor) stopped and gave me a lift to school. His wife had passed me earlier and called him on her cell phone.

And after all of this nonsense, I wasn’t even late for class. I just hope the repairs aren’t going to cost me a fortune.

I only had a two hour class, but I ended up having to spend at least four-and-a-half hours there because I couldn't get my parents on the phone. I just got home about a half hour ago.

Thursday, September 04, 2003

Things of a phallological nature.

Someone using Dutch Google hit my site after searching for what means "penis" in icelandic?. Well, I'm no expert in languages, but according to Insult Monger the Icelandic word for penis is tittlingur.

Another place to look for foreign language insults and cuss-words is the Recommended Slang Links Portal.

Afterwards, (to cleanse the palate, so to speak) may I suggest you visit the Icelandic Phallological Museum, which is a museum filled with many different kinds of penises.
Free books!

A bunch of free Russian eBooks in English translation. [Link via Metafilter.]
We're all doomed.

So, you want to be a teacher in America? [Link via Metafilter.]
The victorious prolitariat use Dreamweaver™.

Ever wonder what would happen if hardline communists got into web design? No? Well, the official site of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea answers that question.

The whois info on this site is interesting. Kinda.

Wednesday, September 03, 2003

The Gods of Music will not be mocked!

Who are the Gods of Music, you ask? They are the all powerful ones who try and keep music honest and great. But of late they have been mocked so severely by people who should know better that the Gods have had no choice but to take very serious measures.

A few weeks ago in the comments over at the Leptard, I started ranting about the Gods of Music after I read the Undertones had reformed after twenty years or so. After yammering on about how great bands should probably stay broken up, I remembered something I'd read in my local newspaper (of all places) that the Stooges had reformed for the first time in nearly 30 years. They were all set to take the stage when the big blackout that knocked out large sections of upper and mid North America occurred for reasons that still aren't clear. But it was perfectly clear to me: the Gods of Music simply wouldn't stand for a Stooges reunion. They've put up with a lot of nonsense, but a Stooges reunion was just too much.

The more I thought about this whole Gods of Music thing the more sense it made and the more evidence I found. The surviving Beatles monkeyed around with some old Lennon tapes. A few years later George Harrison died. Coincidence? The Velvet Underground, one of my all time favorites, regrouped and bored us all silly for the most part. Then Sterling Morrison died. The Clash, another all time favorite, were reportedly 3/4's in agreement to regroup and suddenly Joe Strummer died. Original Byrds drummer Michael Clarke went on tour with a traveling band of impostors and called it the Byrds. He even convinced original Byrds singer Gene Clark to join him. A few years later both are dead. Lynyrd Skynyrd reunited and after a few years of appealing to the lowest common denominator (something they were able to transcend in their first incarnation) one of their few remaining original members, Leon Wilkeson, died. The Band reunited and Richard Manuel committed suicide. The Who prepared their Vegas act and John Entwistle died. Are you convinced yet?

Of course there are other bands that have reformed one or more times over the past fifteen years but haven't had anyone die: Sex Pistols, the Eagles, the Grateful Dead, the Buzzcocks, Stiff Little Fingers, Wire, Gang of Four, etc. They should tread lightly.

Not all bands that reform embarrass themselves or bore their more discriminating fans. Television's self titled 1992 reunion album was better than their previous one, which came out thirteen years earlier. And Big Star's reunion didn't suck too badly.

Mainly what I'm saying in this demented, half-serious rant is that the majority of great bands should stay good and broken up if they don't want to get by as a nostalgia act. But if the Buzzcocks or Wire or Big Star played near me, and I was the type of person who went to see bands, I'd want to see them.

Tuesday, September 02, 2003

Randomly generated stuff.

Back in March, I think, I linked to The Apathetic Online Journal Entry Generator, a site that randomly generates blog entries. I tried to locate the link a little over a month ago after I started my two randomly generated blogs, Prenant Mule and Crop Shy Mutt. I wanted to compare the results of The Apathetic Online Journal Entry Generator to the randomly generated content of the Drunk Men Work Here blogs, but I couldn't locate the damn link. Yesterday I found it by accident while digging through my archives. Exciting, huh?
Laborious Day, part II.

I had so much planned for my three day holiday. There was plently to get done: finally put the finishing touches on my new blog template, get ahead in my school work, etc. I didn't do anything I planned. Well, that's no exactly true. I did plan on goofing off a bit and somehow I found time in my busy, busy schedule to goof off. OK, I did nothing for three days but goof off. I'm a human sloth.
Not enough hours in the day.

I typically write my entries the night before so I don't have to scramble around trying to slap something togther at the last minute. Well, last night instead of writing, I spent a good three hours watching some TV shows about custom motorcycles. So now I have nothing to post. And add to that my miserable two and half hour database class on Tuesday and Thursday mornings and you have all the makings of a lousy blog entry.

Monday, September 01, 2003

Comments, or lack thereof.

All of us bloggers who are at the mercy of free commenting sercices know how problematic they can be at times. People who use YACCS haven't had comments for days. And my long time readers (yes, both of you) proabably remember my periodic anti-Haloscan rants. Well, today I just discovered a new reason to be annoyed with free commenting services: all of my comments prior to June 14 or so seem to have disappeared. Who knows when or why they disappeared or if it's permanent. If you use Haloscan and have had a blog for awhile, it's probably a good idea to check your archives. That is if Blogger hasn't lost your archives.
Laborious Day.

I hate Labor Day. Getting a day off from work and/or school is great, but, as long as I can remember, Labor Day has always been dreary. When I was little, it was the last day of summer vacation, and we spent much of the day seriously bummed out about school starting the next day. Eventually school began to start in late August and Labor Day was just a pointless day off too early into the semester to be appreciated. Years later I had a job where I had to work on Labor Day, which seemed kind of insulting. The only time I think I ever enjoyed this dull holiday was the last year of my previous job when they finally decided to let us have the day off. Of course they took one of our other days off away.
Justified coulrophobia.

I knew there was a perfectly logical reason to hate clowns. [Link via Prenant Mule.]

As I dug into Google, I found more information on clown phobia than I could ever imagine. There's articles, blog entries, columns, reviews, web sites, forums, instructions, news stories, more blog entries, more forums, and a pathetic explanation.

The one thing that always creeped me about clowns was the fact that they have a facial expression painted on their faces, often a smile, but if you got close enough, you could see the real face beneath the make-up and, much of the time, that face wasn't smiling. I thought I was alone in noticing this sort of thing until a few months ago when my sister included a blind fragment from a newspaper in a letter to me that said much the same thing: "[...] Ask Lisa Weihmuller of Arlington, Texas, who has feared clowns since visiting the circus at age 6 or 7. 'A clown got up right in my face, and I could see his beard stubble underneith the clown makeup,' she recalled. 'He smelled bad and his eyes were weird. ... He had this smile painted on his face, but he was not smiling. He was yucky. Scary. Freaky. Weird. [...]'"

And if none of the above wasn't scary enough, have a look at Buffo, the World's Strongest Clown. [Link via The Presurfer.]

I once had a dream years ago where I read in a book that clowns had their origin in the pagan ceremonies of pre-christian Europe. Creepy. Fascinating. But what is the real origin of clowns?