Beetle Bailey

Yesterday while looking for something in a big box of junk, I ran across the 70's vintage, unopened Beetle Bailey rubber band gun that my sister found at a flea market several years ago. I don't know what I find odder about this thing, the inappropriate suggestiveness of using it to shoot a woman in the ass, or the fact that Beetle's friend, Killer, has inexplicably been transformed from Caucasian to African American. And if you want another picture of Killer to confirm that he's actually a white guy, here's a scan from yesterday's comics section. (He's third from the left.)

Update 1/20/07: I've gotten an ass-load of traffic over the past two days because this post was mentioned in the comments over at The Comics Curmudgeon.

Sorry I'm linking to the images rather than posting them, that's just the way I used to do things here. My reasoning back then was that I hated waiting forever for image heavy blogs to finish loading on my hillbilly two cans and a string dial-up connection. Actually, I still hate waiting for image heavy blogs to finish loading, but I digress. And no I'm not going to go back and post the images for everyone's convenience. Really, it's all I can do these days to even drag myself out of bed each morning to face yet another deadening day at work as my life lurches ever forward to its inevitable pointless climax. It's not going to kill you to click a link.

Appalling

This is the most appalling animated .gif I think I've ever seen. (And of course it's not quite safe for work.) Someone was using it as their Live Journal avatar and I ran across it by accident yesterday.

Bees

This photo was on the front page of the newspaper last week.

(I should get a photoblog. Oh, I remember, I have one, but I abandonded it. Never mind.)

Contortionists

Yesterday, at a thrift store, I bought a used book on target shooting. (Don't ask.) It's an old British book from the early 70's. As I flipped through it, I saw several strange-looking photos. At first I thought they were battlefield photos of dead WWI solders. The pictures were of men lying on their backs or sides, contorted in odd positions with rifles. One man had a strap around his head to hold it up. After I read the photo descriptions I saw that these were some kind of competition shooting positions. I don't know much about competition shooting (or shooting in general), but these weird positions don't look like they would help you shoot more accurately. Maybe they're not intended to help them shoot more accurately. Prehaps the positions are to make it more difficult. Maybe they should take this line of thought farther. Why not have them stand on their heads, wear blindfolds, or brace the stock against their forehead while a trained parrot presses the trigger?

Again with the porno-gourd

I took a new photo of the porno-gourd. Now, appropriately enough, it's surrounded by honey-suckle.

At home he's a tourist

Yesterday morning I finally met Cindy. I've known her in cyberspace for a year and a half probably, but even though we live in the same small city, we've never met in meatspace. (That was mainly my fault since I'm a hermit, misanthrope, and all around stick-in-the-mud.)

We hit a couple of yard sales. (I'd never been to one, believe it or not.) And she pointed out three or four Lustron homes in the area. (I'd never seen one before; they're fascinating.)

You'd think I knew my own home town, but after a few turns I was completely lost. I don't know if I could've easily found my way out of there by myself. It was a good thing she was driving.

Meat

Finally, Photo References of Meat!

Why

I don't qet MySpace. How is it different from Blogger? Why should I join? Why, I ask, why?!

Boring

I was supposed to be blogging more these days, but I fell back into my old non-blogging habits. Sorry. But since I didn't have much if anything to write about, it was no real loss. Even when I deliberately did something I hoped would end up making a good blog post, it ended up being a fairly dull episode not worth writing about.

Example: going to my town's newest dollar store and buying a little bottle ginseng royal jelly. I'd hoped this strange Chinese substance would be really awful or make me sick or something, but it just tasted slightly odd and there were no noticable effects. (Someone told me it tasted like dirt; it didn't.) All very boring.

Yum

This morning I was in bed dreaming of eating something like roast with gravy on it. I bit into a piece on the end of my fork and the taste was odd enough to wake me up. It seems I had part of my bed quilt in my mouth. Luckily, I didn't swallow.

Progress?

I hate phones, always have. I don't have a good telephone voice. When I get too nervous I stammer a bit or talk really fast. At other times I'm weirdly silent making the other person on the line say, "Scott, are you there?" I have the personality of a cinder block and the social skills of an opossum. Anyway, earlier in the week I finally got my very first cellphone.

When I went back to school a few years ago I was oddly surprised that most everyone seemed to have cellphones. Most of the people where I work seem to have them. I dreaded the day when I'd have to own one of these damn things because that would make me reachable at virtually any time. I don't want to be reachable at virtually any time, I'm a misanthropic hermit!

I got the cheapest phone I could get. And, much to my surprise, I actually like the thing--despite the fact that I haven't gotten it to work yet.

Why'd I get it? My car's been breaking down a lot over the past year. At least three times in the past five months I've had to walk long distances. A few Sundays ago I walked about four miles home. (I found a perfectly good goldfish bowl in a ditch on the way.) And I have a thirty mile round trip each day because of my job. If my car breaks down out there in the middle of nowhere, I'm screwed pretty much. So I got a phone.

Now that I've joined the rest of society in the 21st century with my spiffy new phone, maybe I should make an effort to be sociable. I can actually call people and they can call me.

Now I'm beginning to wonder if this is all such a good idea.

Sick

You'd think the human body would be able to ward off the common cold by now, you know, what with it being so common and all. Well, it can't. I've caved into peer pressure and got me one of them new fangled warm weather colds.

I hate being sick. I did get to go home really early from work today, but I can't enjoy anything when my ears are stopped up, I have a headache, my nose is running, and my throat is dry and sore.

I took three naps today, but I dread trying to sleep tonight. Last night I woke up periodically trying to swallow or breath clearly. At one point, I just got up and ended up sitting on the floor beside my bed reading a book on winemaking. And I don't even drink. Why do I even own this book? And why was on the floor? I have chairs.

Why blog?

I tend to stay far, far away from the various memes that are bouncing around other blogs. I never seriously did the Friday Five thing (or whatever it was called), nor have I traded interviews with another blogger. Partly it's because I have some pathetic notion that paying attention to said blog memes isn't that original, but mainly it's out of pure laziness.

Anyway, Sherri has posted an interesting list of questions about blogging, so I thought I'd answer them.

1) Why do you keep your weblog/blog/online writing thingie: for fun, for fame, for money, for popularity, or for another more obscur reason? What about the weblog gives you what you want?

I started it as an alternative to a handwritten journal, but I quickly realized that blogs and handwritten journals aren't that similar at all. And after two and a half years of keeping a blog, I think I'm mainly doing it out of habit.

I like it when people have a positive reaction to things I write. It's always surprising to me what kind of post will spark people's interest and what kind will be completely ignored.

2) Imagine that your weblog becomes wildly popular: your hit counter skyrockets, your comments are overflowing, and everyone is emailing you about everything you post. Name 3 positive things that could come of this, and 3 negative things.

The good:

1. Book deal!
2. Ego trip!
3. The fleeting internet version of fame!

The bad:

1. I hate email. Having to answer loads of email would be hell on earth.
2. I hate people. Having people bothering me all the time would be hell on earth.
3. People I don't know wanting to meet me in meat-space. But I guess that would be connected to the answer above.

3) What's the worst possible result you can imagine (short of being electrocuted or having your computer take over your brain, and who says it hasn't already?) from keeping a weblog?

My parents start reading it, then all my other family members start reading it.

4) What do you do to prevent that worst possible result from happening?

Deny the existence of any web page/blog/etc I may be asked about. Deny! Deny! Deny!

5) List 5 reasons that would make you stop keeping your weblog for a period of 6months to a year.

1. Depression.
2. No internet access.
3. A total disgust with blogs and blogging.
4. Work.
5. Alien abduction.

6) List 5 reasons that would make you stop forever.

1. Death.
2. Boredom.
3. No internet access ever.
4. Someone paying me not to blog. Kinda like those farmers who get paid not to grow crops.
5. My parents reading my blog.

7) Describe your definition of a "successful weblog".

A blog that the author clearly enjoys writing and is interesting to read on a regular basis.

8) Is yours successful by your definition?

Ha-ha.

9) What pisses you off most in other weblogs? What pleases you most?

No capitalization and the widespread use of instant messaging slang. Seriously, we're doomed as a civilization if this sort of thing continues.

10) Make a list of 10 weblogs/journal style websites that you wish your weblog/website/writing site was like.

Ten?! Jeez, that'll take forever!

1. Diamond Geezer has to be the work of a group of a dozen or more people. I've read this blog on and off for two and half years and it's never gone on hiatus that I know of and there's a fresh, well thought out post virtually every day. It's maddening!
2. A Girl Named Bob is probably the blog I've read the longest. It's well written and very funny. Bob doesn't write as much as she used to, but it's still a favorite.
3. The Magic Short Bus is almost a companion piece to the above, but it stands on its own as one of the better written and funniest blogs I've ever read.
4. J-Walk is pure industriousness. How he comes up with all of these odd and sometimes useful links so regularly never fails to amaze me.
5. The Presurfer is the king of oddball links.
6. Giornale Nuovo makes me wish I read more and read cooler books.
7. The Leptard is literate and funny. Why he hasn't written a novel escapes me.
8. For Myself and Strangers isn't on this list because its author wrote these questions, but because she walks it like she talks it. And she writes! Also, it's probably the most thought provoking blog on this list.

OK, that's eight. Deal with it.

(And English really is my first language, even though it doesn't look like it sometimes.)

Yee-ha!

Just for Sherri: Dukes of Hazzard slash fiction! (Scroll down on the second link.)

Potter

My sister just told me that her Harry Potter fan fiction is online.

It's a parody, but I don't know how funny it actually is since I've never read a Harry Potter book.

UPDATE: My sister sent me an email today after I told her I'd post a link to her Potter thing in my blog.

So you don't think the dinks who read your blog would think unicorns drowned in baked beans, hitting Potter characters with sticks, and Fosgood the Flatulent was entertaining at all?

Farty.

I just discovered that they deleted all my semicolons making all sorts of run together words, making me look like a complete moron. Cripes, that means I have to go back and FIX this crap.

It was peeeerfeeect!!!!

Not sure what "Farty" is all about, but since my sister's an artist, it's no doubt something really arty and creative. Or farty. Not sure.

Dodgy todger

I forgot to mention that when I was in the little room getting ready for the pee-test, the nurse made me empty my pockets. She didn't frisk me to find a hidden piss-bag or phoney schlong, but it was still odd. At least I got to whizz with the door closed, but she told me not to flush.

Wee!

I've been recommended for that third shift job, so today I had to go in for a drug test. I purposely didn't take a leak before I left the house so that I'd be assured of easily producing a sample. (I'm a bit pee-shy.) I ever filled up my car with gas, drove across town, and browsed in two different stores so that when it came time to pee I'd be ready.

The last time I did one of these tests, I just went in and did it. Today I had to wait. And waiting with a full bladder isn't enjoyable at all. It's also not enjoyable when you're an irritable misanthrope like I am. Just the sound of the other people's voices annoyed me to no end. Deep-voiced men and little kids particularly grated me this morning for some unknown reason.

There was a guy one seat down from me wearing tan saddle-shoes with shorts and white socks. Yes, tan saddle-shoes. These would be appropriate to wear if he were a girl in the 1950's who needed something to go with her poodle-skirt, but not something a grown man should be wearing with white socks and shorts.

Why do people let their children roam all over the waiting room? Why do people talk so loudly on their cellphones in waiting rooms?

This post's going nowhere, so I'll end it.

Feh, again

It's time for another blog post, since I haven't written one in who knows how long. I can't say that nothing's been going on around here, but I just don't feel like writing. I haven't even been writing in my journal that much.

I'm on new medication. So far I feel a little funny every now and then, but not "ha-ha" funny. This odd feeling is, I believe, either a side effect of the new medication or withdrawal from the old. Whatever.

I may actually get hired to do something useful at the place I'm temping at. But it may be a third shift position, so if I get it, I'll be walking around in an even bigger daze than usual until I adjust. And who knows how long it'll take me to adjust to working at four o'clock in the goddamn morning.

I'd like to thank the asshats who ruined the Extreme Tracker thingy by clogging it with referrer spam that makes little sense. I'd like to thank them each personally with a flying kick to the nuts because I'm the type who likes to go that extra mile.

This post was going to be longer, but I can't think of anything else important to moan and groan about.