Gevalia, I hate to break it to you
Gevalia has long been a favorite of mine, but between the hidebound way the club sends their stuff (Dunno if even my daily coffee IVs will use their coffee as fast as they insist on sending it) and that they keep shoving equipment with their intro offers that I don’t need, I’ve just never jumped and joined their club. All their email wooing has been for naught.
I’ve found a better coffee club: Boca Java. It’s seriously wunnerful shit, folks.
Over there where the renters used to live is my new coffee club. Actually, it’s the link to go check them out so we both get referral bonuses (you get freebie, I get points toward more coffee). They’ve got several types of shipment options, where you can set which basic set of delivered coffees you want, how often they foist it on you, what dates they ship, and exactly what you want. There’s even a blogger’s club.
Anyone wanting a referral for the blogger’s club, just send me your email and I’ll be happy to pass one to you.
So, go check it out and remember my email for the referral is serrathescented@gmail.com
——————————
UPDATE: I have to say I’m pickled tink with Boca Java. Everything has been exactly as promised. I’ll be posting reviews of two of the Blogger’s Blends sometime today, 4/5.
And I bumped my next order up to come in early–I’m nearly out and I can’t have that!
Housekeeping
I’ve been busy again.
This housekeeping session I removed a lot of dead blogs–if I hadn’t seen someone blog or comment here in quite awhile, I did remove the link. Not that I don’t still love you, but this is a big blogroll and I gotta do something to control it. I’ll be happy to add folks back should they make a reappearance.
Two of my excellent blogroll members moved. Evil Science Chick has her own domain now, so update that link. Julie at Rabid Rabbits and Psycho Squirrels has done the same, so she needs update love as well. I’ve added five new blogs, so check out the Hot Bloggers list in the sidebar for details.
The biggest change is only partially done. I’ve scrapped all links to Blog Explosion and as soon as I lose all my points there I’ll be deleting my blog. I’ve got several reasons for the move:
1. They blow goats as far as admin goes. What rules they have are enforced at a whim, they’ve allowed the bullshit of bloc voting on blog battles to go on FAR too fucking long, they pissed me off personally when they declined the listing for my business blog that I’ve had for months (they supposedly require 30 days of posts, something I apparently missed on all those spam blogs in their fucking listings that I’ve found while surfing for credits), and they’re just generally full of shit.
2. I don’t have time to work with two services that do nearly the identical thing. I have to get use credits from both BlogMad and Blog Explosion by surfing and I don’t have time to screw with both. BlogMad wins because their Admin’s much better, the credits are more fairly allotted to use, the 1:1 (and sometimes 2:1) ratio is much better use of what time I have, and the hits I get from BlogMad are more often folks who spend time here, comment, and like what they see.
3. They pissed me off (See #1) so they can suck my poshly scented ass.
I’ll be adding text links from BlogMad soon too. I’ll miss the renters each week, but I’m hoping BlogMad offers something similar in the future. Perhaps once they’re out of Beta on the basic site features they’ll get it running.
I did switch to The Flip Side for rankings, just to see how they work, so go click on their button under my pussy to vote for Whiplash Smile.
That’s pretty much it, except that I’ll be adding a blogroll over at Scented Business–if you have a craft or craft supplier blog, leave a comment either place and I’ll get you added.
How does he keep forgetting?
I hate being sick. Yeah, I’m sick. Again. Again with a respiratory thingy.
When I’m sick I have two options for places to go–the computer room, where I desperately need a new chair because the one I have has been abused for almost 8 years now, or the upstairs bedroom, where I don’t have computer access and when I’m between Netflix fixes there’s just what DVDs I have on hand and TV to watch.
Last night was option #2–I’d been sitting here and couldn’t take it much longer, so I repaired to the relative peace of my bedroom, where a fight that had been brewing with Honey took place, then more peace and quiet. So, I’m sitting there, watching Kiddie Hour finally end on American Idol (Bye, Kevin, it’s about fucking time you went home), when the little pile of trash needing to go out (happening today, since Trash Day is tomorrow) started rattling.
Shit. I know this far from the more populous areas you get an occasional mousie, but they don’t usually venture to bedrooms when there’s no food for them. What else would that…
RATTLERATTLERATTLE
What in the FUCK is making ALL that noise? That’s too much for one little stoopid mouse.
Thumpsmack…as I try to make a scary noise to make the scary noise go away.
RATTLERATTLErustlerustle…what the fuck is that…grey…mouse-shaped…
THUMP!
RATTTTTLLLLLLEEEE…little grey…
“Desi Dog Damnit! GET THE HELL OUT FROM BEHIND THE BED!”
I damned near burst into tears of relief as the little mouse-shaped thingy (that I totally missed the claws on) morphed into a grey fuzzy kitty, complete with laid-back ears and dirty, put-upon look. Honey chose that moment to burst into the room, yelling, “What…where…I’ll save you…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Your cat is a stupid fucking mouse-ignoring piece of shit, Honey. She just scared the shit outta me.”
“She’s your cat and…”
“No, Honey, YOU picked her out, remember?”
Stoopid fucking cat. Wonder if she wants some catnip?
What? She was annoying but entertaining, so she ought to get a reward.
FAQ
It’s occurred to me that there’s a lot of readers that are relatively new here, so I think it might be time for a quick FAQ.
Who the hell is Serra anyhow?
Well, Serra’s a soapmaker living in Southeastern Michigan who currently shares space with several people, two great dogs and a snobby kittycat. The animals are great; the people are really, uh, what’s the word Beo used to use when discussing a total pain in the ass at work? Oh–enlightening! Yes, they’re…enlightening.
What is a Serra anyhow? Why’s this silly bitch using the nickname?
Serra’s short for the name of a crack-coated–I mean, gorgeous collectible game card called Serra Angel. Since the angel’s not really appropriate for me, I shorten it to Serra. Here’s the card:
Pretty, right? Well, I’m not blonde and I have a rapier, not a broadsword, but I’ve got a better rack than the card too, so I guess it evens out.
Who are the Enlightening Ones?
Here’s a quick cast of characters:
Honey: Serra’s long-suffering fiance, an out-of-work automotive engineer (Hear that, Ford? Your outsourcing your design shit HURTS here at HOME–knock it the fuck off already! You have to keep getting everything redone anyhow, so why even do it?) who’s currently woefully underemployed. There’s always hope tho and any serious inquiries into hiring this skilled engineer can email moi and I’ll be happy to send it along.
H’sMa: Honey’s mom and my future Mother-In-Law. Before having to live with her the relationship was mild and mellow and liveable. After nine months under the same roof I’ve learned to watch what I eat, say what I have to say loudly and repeatedly, and to fully expect to be gossiped about in my own living space and misquoted out the wazoo. Have I mentioned that I highly dislike yelling, repeating myself, gossipmongers and idiots who don’t get the facts straight when they’re just unable to behave like normal folk and just MUST talk behind someone’s back?
Garand: Resident future brother-in-law and King of Porno, SE Michigan region. This is the guy the movie “The 40 Year Old Virgin” was based on, and he has no chance of changing it even if he should walk down 8 Mile with $500 in one hand and a bag of crack in the other. His habits are slovenly, his money all goes to feed his collections of books, DVDs and porn, and he’s not very nice to his mom. I’ve considered fixing this guy up with friends, but there’s no one I dislike that much.
Your Psychic Fiend: She’s the uber-bitch that lives in my head. She’s a seer whose gift has turned her into a seriously intolerant, non-PC, stubborn, nasty individual. I don’t let her out to play much; when I do, she usually winds up squelched in some elegantly nasty manner as punishment for insulting my friends and family.
Why does Serra blog?
Because it saves the lives of those around her. I’m 600 miles away from my nearest family, have no car, my hobbies taken because I have so little room to work (after being promised that I’d be able to), I’m not currently on medication (perhaps I should be but it’s so hard to tell who the nuts are in this house that I think it’s crap that I’d have to take pills because THEY’RE the whackos) and blogging is cheaper than psychotherapy.
Why all the profanity?
Life is profane at times, whether or not four-letter words are used. While I do have an excellent vocabulary, there are times where one just MUST say, “Fuck you, the horse you rode in on, the brother who looks like you and your little fucking kick-me dog too!”
I think that’s enough for now–do feel free to check the archives out and comment anytime. I as always reserve the right to tell you you’re full of shit, and if you’re full of shit in a very annoying manner I’ll delete and ban your comment. This doesn’t mean I’ll ban those who disagree. It does mean I’ll ban those who are tedious, annoying, inaccurate or otherwise abusing the privilege I pay for when I provide a nifty comment medium to go with the blog.
Thanks for stopping by!
Come out and play?
First, welcome to all you BlogMad people!! For anyone who doesn’t know and is a BlogMad member, RIGHT NOW (6:18 EST) BlogMad is doing a double credit day, so hook yourself up with an assload of credits. If you’re not a member, use this link to tell ‘em Serra sent your ass over! This is their public Beta launch so now is an excellent time to sign up!
In fact I have a special on soap sacks running over at Scented Business, so hop over there too while you’re at it.
(/end gratuitous plugs for excellent services)
Now, back to what I logged in to post…
I got The Warriors via Netflix last week, but didn’t get a chance to watch it until today. I’m sorry I waited. I can’t remember who said this was such an excellent film that they’d watch it over and over and over and couldn’t wait for the video game and wanted to have Walter Hill’s children, but whoever you are, you were absolutely right. While the ’70’s look dominated the film, the futuristic tones combined with the ancient Greek backstory make for awesome watching while knitting yer brains out.
Something really familiar kept floating thru my mind as my needles kept clicking (I finished an entire washcloth while watching this sucker–it was that riveting and when I watch good action flicks I can knit like a machine). This face really kept rattling my memory, looking for something to latch onto, something to do with The Crow of all movies.
It finally did, with this guy:
Meet Luther. It took me until nearly the end of the movie to place the face and the voice, but I finally did, here:
That’s T-Bird, leader of a gang of arsonists, all with little pirate nicknames, all dead the moment they touched Eric Draven’s wife-to-be. Turns out I’ve seen that skuz a lot of places–the one I remembered was another Walter Hill movie, 48 Hours. Same face, same character name too–Luther. Sorry I couldn’t find another pic.
The point is, it’s so strange how Kevin Bacon isn’t the only actor one can do a Six Degrees of Separation on–David Patrick Kelly’s another one.
Too much time on his hands
I love sick little monkey MooCow. However, the guy has far too much time on his hands.
Pimpin’ out the New Girl I Got
Since I speak English FAR too well to do any of this post in jive, I’m sending you to Gizoogle for the translation.
I’d like to pimp out my new renter from Blog Explosion, Deb_LA over at This is Not the Life I Pictured. You all already know how much I like bloggers who live in the real world, who prefer it there and have little time for those who live on planets where the sky is purple, so Deb’s a great new addition to my reading. She will be to yours also, so go check her out.
When Stoners Cook
“We’ll take the hottie–Cat Cora!”
This declaration begins one of the funniest episodes of Iron Chef America I’ve run into so far. Jon Shook and Vinny Dotolo, aka The Food Dudes, take on Iron Chef Cat Cora in an episode I caught last weekend. (Check FoodTV.com’s website for other scheduled showings. There’s one tonight if you can tear yourself away from the Smithwick’s.)
Funny as hell, well worth the time, and I don’t give a shit what they look like, I’d hire ‘em to cater the wedding–if I could afford them, that is. These guys look like your brother’s sk8tr buddies, or the guys who swiped your weed and then offered to sell it to you, but looks are deceiving in this case. The food looks delightlfully yummy and snobbish enough to please the biggest food snob. It seems the newest star-level caterers and chefs say “dude.” Gotta love that.
I won’t give out any spoilers, but watch the pignolios. Just watch ‘em.
Ask Your Psychic Fiend #29
Howdy howdy hi and welcome to Ask Your Psychic Fiend! Yes, folks, Serra finally untied my unhappy butt and is letting me blog again.
Where have I been? Um, let’s not discuss that. The psychiatrist says it’s not good to rehash it unless he’s got me deeply sedated due to the horrible trauma.
So, with that, remember that the usual rules apply:
As you begin your journey with Your Psychic Fiend, please keep in mind:
1. It’s Psychic FIEND, not Psychic FRIEND. With friends like YPF, who needs enemas?
2. All answers are for entertainment only. If you don’t want to be entertained by smartass answers, don’t ask serious questions. Hell, don’t ask questions at all—anyone expecting serious answers on Ask Your Psychic Fiend Day will just piss themselves off.
3. The ONLY offense intended is to those inbred spawn of Larry The Cable Guy who pretend to have psychic gifts in order to make a buck and run up your phone bill. I have the utmost respect for those truly gifted with the sixth sense. I can completely respect folks who accept money for readings of Tarot and other divination arts, as honest, respectful and caring clairvoyants who serve a purpose in the Universe. However, lying-bitch penisbiters like Miss Cleo and her ilk should have been smashed against a rock at birth.
And now let’s proceed with Question #1, from Two Drink Girl (anyone ever told you you’re a cheap drunk, TDG?)
My Question is: Is this it? Will this finally be my time?
Answer: Yes and no. Without spoiling the surprise, just do be careful of gifts bearing Greeks, Greeks bearing gifts, and any man who calls your period time “Greek Week.”
NEXT!
Hiya Mr. Fabulous! Thanks for the following question:
Dear YPF,
I don’t always have to wear underwear to church, do I? Does Jesus really care if I go commando in his house?
Answer: While masturbation makes Jeebus cry and kill a kitten, He really doesn’t give a shit if you go commando in His house. Just be certain that your religion doesn’t show by wearing loose trousers, skip the CBT restraint and, if you simply MUST scratch your balls, try to make sure no one’s looking.
Cassarass has joined the party too! Hiya! How’d the move go?
Dearest YPF,
Will I EVER get a day off to organize my damn house? And will I ever get it organized?
Answer: If you do get a fortuitous extra day off, it’ll be because something excremental happened that you will have to deal with instead. Instead, you’re going to have to rely on thinking up a good excuse to call in sick for a day and use it to get things straightened around. When you do, don’t give in to the temptation to go play instead, because it will never fail that the day you do this will be gorgeous outside and you’ll want to go enjoy that instead.
Our next question comes from Mona! Gee, Mona, I’ve missed you SO much!
(little tiny whisper) help meeee…it’s horrible heeere!
Dear Psychic Fiend,
I drink a lot of water everyday. Like 120 ounces of it. (No, I’m not diabetic, I just play one on tv.)
Now, I pee a lot, too.
My question is, how much water does my body burn off, that doesn’t go out in pee?
Also, can I drown my brain if I drink too much water?
Swimmingly,
Mona
Answer: Depending on activity level and season, the amount of water you lose to sweating and drooling can vary, but it’s not a great deal except in hot weather and during heavy exercise. The amount you’re drinking is pretty healthy, but I don’t know that I’d push it due to the next answer I’m giving you.
It is possible to drink too much water—it happens quite a bit to folks on Ecstasy and who have other conditions that make them feel thirstier than their body’s need for water accounts for. If you aren’t careful about how much you take in, you can throw off your body’s electrolyte balance, resulting in problems with the heart and brain function. I don’t think you’re at this point or near it, but I wouldn’t say to up your intake of water either.
So—be healthy but don’t be silly about it
Our next question is from LisaB:
Will I be traveling a lot in the coming months?
Answer: Yep, you will! Some for business, and occasionally for fun. On all trips, don’t forget the necessities: American Express card, fun money, duct tape, and a really hot leather outfit.
What? What’s wrong with making sure you take credit cards?
Sheesh, some people!
NEXT!
Hiya Brigadiere! Great to have you back.
Dear Ms. Fiend, Esq.,
I believe my dear man-child servant Smiggins is trying to off me again. Poor bloke hasn’t quite figured out that I’m nigh-indestructable. He’s becoming quite exasperated with my tenacity towards lifedom. Betwixt the strychnine tea and assorted booby-traps he’s placed about the grounds he’s become quite the pooper of the party. Is there anything you might do to bring about some cheer for poor Smiggins?
Yours in bedogged immortality,
Sir Brigadiere General Grend31, Mrs.
Answer: This one’s directed to Smiggins: Just skip this part, Brigadiere.
Dude, the Brigadiere’s found the RFID chip you stuck up his ass! You’re sooo busted and he’s shoved it up yours instead! Poop that puppy out and next time put it in his asscheek so you can make sure it’s still there every time you have to kiss his ass.
OK, Brigadiere, you can look again.
Smiggins really isn’t trying to kill you—he really didn’t know Bitter Almond is poisonous. You know him, Brigadiere—all almonds are edible as far as he’s concerned.
Just ignore that bitter taste in your Madeira, all righty?
Our next question comes to us from MoeThatsMe.
If I had bonus monies – no word yet, but it don’t look too good – what would I spend it on??
Answer: Even though you want to spend it to restart that meth lab since the po-po busted up your last rig, don’t! The cats are ratting you out, and they’ll just tattle again soon as you blame that awful smell on their litterbox again.
Next up we have Mike:
Will my wife ever let me get another cat?
Answer: Well, if you hadn’t sodo—
YPF! You know what happens when you talk like that here.
Heavy sighs…Yeah, I do, but look at Da Grounds, Serra—you KNOW why he can’t get another cat, it’s not like I’m lying or some shit here…
Too bad—people think everything they read on the Interwebbnetz is real and we’ll get all those gross-assed search engine hits again if you type that crap out.
Fine. I won’t type it out then.
Mike, you know why you can’t have another cat, and I know why. Just because I can’t type it out doesn’t make it go away. Why not get a nice gerbil for felch…
STOP IT!!
Geez, Serra, you’re no fucking fun anymore.
You’re not the one who has to check the hit meter either, YPF.
OK. Mike, I think it’s time to turn to pets you’re not perverted about. Geckos, perhaps. They have that nifty Aussie accent, you know.
Fucking no-fun Nazi bitch Serra…
Anyhow, next up is Christine:
Who is behind this particular ISP that keeps appearing on my site reports?
Answer: Last time that happened here, it was our own ISP—turns out we’d forgotten to block our own ISP when it changed IPs for us, and for a week we were stalking ourselves and Spider Walk too! Check to be sure your own IP isn’t showing on your hits, then hit Geektools to find out what you can. Once you’ve done that you might be able to figure out who your guest is.
Our next question is from Jesster:
Is the new Doctor Who on the Sci-Fi Channel going to be any good, or am I just setting myself up for disappointment? And on a related note, please tell me that I am not the world’s geekiest chick…not that there’s anything WRONG with that…
Answer: It’s really too soon to tell. However, Tom Baker’s the best Doctor and no one else can hold a candle to him. However, Da Grounds show there’s still a place for a passable Doctor and here’s hoping we finally get another one.
As for being the geekiest chick, Serra’s got you beat—she’s an Admin at an MUD! It doesn’t get any geekier than that, Jesster. Now send us a Caribou card—the new ones are purrrrty!!
Next up is a new seeker—Cat, from Cat With a Pen, a great site. Welcome to the nut farm, Cat. No offense, but I’m sure you’ll fit in nicely. You’re smart, funny, and so are you and you…
Shut it YPF—that’s rude!
Of COURSE it’s rude, Serra—you expect NICE after you made me watch Garand for a month without even being able to SCREAM? By the way, I’m going to get you for that, so don’t bitch when a refrigerator box full of acrylic yarn shows up.
But, you stupid cow, I don’t use acrylics to knit with!
Exactly. Now piss off—I’m working here.
Here’s Cat’s question:
Will I live in Colorado for the rest of my life like I hope?
Answer: Da Grounds (our form of augury here, mostly because the coffee sucks so bad if Serra doesn’t make it herself that she throws the grounds at the wall in protest) say that in a moderately-distant future will appear a cusp event, one which will force a decision on your location. There are a lot of factors that will alter the total balance between now and then, so don’t get wired out about this (especially since this prediction is based on utter bullshit) just yet. It’s entirely likely that by the time you reach the cusp, one choice will be so out of the question that the decision is very clear.
Just allow things to naturally progress for the time being.
Our next question is from Se7en, who’s apparently home again. Hope you had a great vacation and that the next one happens soon.
No, I’m not telling you when—that’s in the “I’d spoil the surprise if I told and Baby Jeebus would cry” category. Besides, you didn’t ask me, so nyah, and here’s your question:
Hi!! My question is: “Will I get run over by a bus or will it be a train?”
I just gotta know!!!
p.s. Thankyew for the nice comment at my www.charmskins.com site!
Answer: You’re more than welcome for the comment—unfortunately I’d hit it while credit surfing so I didn’t get the URL—if you want to put it in the comments, go ahead.
As for your question, The Answer is…
Neither one.
I’m not telling you what will hit you (another “surprise”) but I’m willing to tell you if you guess right—but you can only guess in questions for me, not in other post comments on the blog. Serra reads everything y’all post, but I only get out once in awhile so I tend to fergit unless it’s in that one set of comments she lets me read myself.
And so, once again we come to the end of another Ask Your Psychic Fiend. Thanks for all the fun and we’ll do it again soon!
DeeDeeDee
Ever wonder what would happen if Carlos Mencia would do a standup show at a hospital for the disabled? He did it once, and talks about it in his new stand-up special, No Strings Attached. I damned near wet myself watching this last night.
I’ll probably damned near wet myself again tonight, since the encore is showing on Comedy Central at 10 Eastern/9 Central. I must definitely see this again tonight.
WHAT?
There’s a Spanish word he uses (apparently it means either “cripple” or “retard”) that I didn’t quite catch and it might be handy to know.
Oh, shut up–if you know me, you know the only complete Spanish phrase I know that isn’t cussing is “Mis chichis estan muy frias.” The rest of my Spanish vocabulary will only serve to get my throat cut in Tijuana.
Stoned?
When I watch TV these days, I often find myself asking, "Who is the stoner who thought THAT up?"
Take, f'rinstance, the new Booger King commercial (name smudged on purpose–don't need BK.com reading here). What, pray tell, were the ad execs who thought their new jingle up SMOKING?
You can bet your buckin' ass the original lyric they pitched to Booger King didn't say, "Biiiig BUCKIN' Chickennnnn…"
Calling all crafters
To all bloggers who craft, all crafters who blog, craft-iddybloggidyblogblog:
I’m starting a blogroll on the Scented Business blog, and I’m looking for people to blogroll and some to blogroll that blog also. I’m intending the list there for crafty bloggers, blogging crafters, ingredient supplier blogs (please don’t ask for a link to a non-blog website because I’ll laugh at you and then set a ban).
Just leave a comment here with the URL or over at the other blog.
Thanks!
STICKY POST: Comment Me Now
This post is stuck to the top of the blog until Thursday March 9. Scroll down for newest posts.
Well, I did what you all suggested. I untied one leg on that little hobag Your Psychic Fiend. Then I took the tape off her mouth and heard, “For the love of all that’s holy, I’ll be a good figment of your imagination! Just LET ME THE FUCKING HELL OUT OF HERE!”
Everything sounded sufficiently penitent, except for that f-bomb.
So, I taped her back up and told her I’ll turn her loose next Friday for a little blogging. Meanwhile, back here at the ranch, she’ll need questions to answer, so please put them in the comments for this post. Remember the guidelines: If you’ll be offended by a flippant, snotty, bitchy or otherwise inappropriate answer to your question; if you don’t want anyone to know about the subject you’re asking about; if there’s any other reason you might not like the reaction to your question, then you are best off not asking it here. Your Psychic Fiend cannot be counted on to be nice, polite, caring, considerate or concerned. Ever.
And, as always, there’s one governing rule: Fuck you if you can’t take a joke.
I’ll put this up sticky style until next Friday the 10th. New posts will appear underneath, so get off your lazy mouses and scroll.
New PBS Pledge Breaks
I lucked into a great program last night while paging thru the DirectionalTV program listings. Without stopping to look at which station was carrying “Monty Python’s Personal Best,” I flipped over to watch it. After about 20 minutes of zany madcap slightly filthy British humor, I was RUDELY interrupted by…
You guessed it (maybe from the post title?). A pledge break for the Detroit area PBS station.
Yay, rah.
As I kept watching, praying for the interminable pledge breaks, complete with stupid blonde who can’t pronounce Gilliam and stupider balding man who can’t get a Python quote correct to save his eternal soul, something occurred to me.
While watching the list of Pythonesque goodies I could get if only I would donate $500, it occurred to me that I’d give $50 right then if only those two dipshits would shut the FUCK up! That’s when the idea I should sell to PBS hit me.
They’re doing this all backwards.
No matter how insipid, stupid, ignorant or just plain bland the hosts of the pledge breaks are and no matter how fervently I would wish for them to be struck dead with a seizure of tasteless facial expressions, I do eventually know that they will soon shut up and let me get back to the Dead Parrot Sketch. That is where PBS is screwing up.
Here’s the new plan: PBS should BEGIN the program section that is advertised for pledge-breaking annoyance with the HOSTS, not the funny and good PROGRAM they’re trying to raise money to carry. You see, if this segment BEGAN with, “Hi! We’re your gag-inducing hosts, Suzy Creamcheese and Guy Dilhole. You’re stuck with us until you send us enough money to put Monty Python’s Flying Circus in this time slot. We’re going to stay here, annoying the living piss right out of all of you, until you all call in and pledge enough money to fund this program,” they’d have those on-the-fence (and on-the-dole) viewers so sick of them within 10 minutes that they’d have every cent it costs to show Monty Python on PBS.
I can imagine how it would go (sliding sock puppets onto hands while trying to convince the cat that they’re not her new claw toys):
Suzy Creamcheese: Hi, I’m Suzy Creamcheese, and welcome to PBS’ pledge drive.
Guy Dilhole: I’m Guy Dilhole and Suzy and I are going to keep you company until we’ve raised enough pledge money to actually show you Monty Python’s Flying Circus.
SC: We used to show parts of the actual program during these drives, but you freeloaders were just here for the high-brow programs and wouldn’t cough up enough dough to let us show our station logo, let alone a full series of obscure British humor.
GD: That’s right, Suzy, we’re going to act like we’ve actually seen this excellent program but show that we actually don’t know Michael Poulin’s ass from a hole in the wall.Offstage director shouts, “That’s Michael PALIN”
GD: Sure, it’s Palin, Mr. Director, but since we have to motivate Viewers Like You to give us money, we’re going to mispronounce and misquote our way through this script until we hit our goal.
OD: Oh, yeah, I’d forgot about Operation Irritation
SC: You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached.
GD: And now, so that you’re completely aware of what you’re missing, Suzy and I are going to totally screw over the best sketch comedy available today, the “Dead Budgie Store”OD: Dead PARROT SKETCH, you useless loony.
GD flips off the OD and begins…
I’m mercifully drawing the curtain here, since the ensuing massacre would be both NSFW and rated X by the Motion Picture Association of America and would have PETSP (People for the Ethical Treatment of Sock Puppets) all up in my grill. Personally I would not be able to keep myself from poking a pin deep into Pamela Anderson’s fake tits (which would get me beaten up by Tommy Lee), so I’d best avoid them if at all possible.
See how much more effective that would be? Wouldn’t YOU dive for the phone, just to stop these two shitbricks from ruining all memories of sneaking into the TV room for a dose of “The Ministry of Silly Walks?” Even though I actually know where this station’s studios are, know they’re not far from where I live, and know that a 12 gauge shotgun would certainly make that bitch quit saying “Jillun*,” I also know it wouldn’t be well-recieved to have an incident of this sort broadcast. The FCC would probably double the fines given to CBS the time Janet Jackson showed her nipple to the world.
I’m not mentioning the jail time I’d get. Making that male host from last night get “Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition” correct would be totally worth it.
*Don’t get all “Oh no she di-unt!” on me. Oh, yeah, she went there, and went there badly.
Remember that scarf?
I know ESC and Laurie both remember the scarf I described that I'd done for my MIL's Christmas pressie–the silk and baby alpaca yarn one? Well, I went and got the pics up over here, at my business blog.
Oh, and today? I'm thinking about starting a batch of Opium (dead ringer dupe for the perfume) incense, since I figured out a way to get space to do that in. I've been dying to get this great FO into something, so screw it–time to make the incense. If anyone else wants some, let me know and I'll put more sticks up to soak.
Housekeeping
It’s that time again, time to update the blog’s sidebar and introduce my Renter this week.
First, let’s note the cute little BlogMad button I picked up this morning. It’s another traffic service, but this one seems to make more of my surfing time than BE. There’s also the fact that the nitwits at BE declined letting me list my non-profane, innocuous blog Scented Business. Let’s see, they’ll take blogs that consist soley of pictures of underage Asian women’s asses, but a non-spam business blog created to allow the easily offended to see my soaping and knitting goodies isn’t allowed? Yeah, I got your “allowed,” BE, and it may result in my taking your shit off here and dedicating the space to people who aren’t so infatuated with their own self-importance.
Holler to my email, by the bye, if you’re seeking BlogMad invites. I haven’t looked at that section yet so give me a reason to go play with it.
The problem with that threat is that I’ll miss my super cool BE renters, such as this week’s tenant Gidget Bones. I find such cool tenants and wonderful new blogs this way that I’d sure miss it if I didn’t have it. Gidget Bones is a most interesting UK camper, with a much different outlook than you’re used to here. Welcome, Gidget and Dark Marcy–this should be a really fun week.
I’ve picked several new blogs to list this week for various reasons. Here they are:
Dead Guy: The Cartoon–You already know how I like my humor here–twisted, slightly perverse and a bit dark. Dead Guy fits the bill nicely. Recently it’s become syndicated in newspapers but since I ignore newpapers I’m glad I can read this one online.CORRECTION: This cartoon’s not in syndication yet (I mixed it up with one I run into occasionally that has been, Dog Eat Doug). I blame lack of caffienation for the error, and apologies to Ignatius Dedd.
Occasional Bitch–My favorite bloggers are women with good but sarcastic funny bones. I don’t remember if she rented from me or I from her, but I know I did locate this one thru BE. I didn’t say BE was all bad, just fucked in the admin at times.
Bonanza Jellybean–Yes, I know two bloggers by that name. They’re as different as night and day but they’re both excellent reads. Well worth the time.
Plural of Apocalypse–I’ve had lives where I needed a plural for apocalypse. Kinky Poe’s life in Wisconsin isn’t as insane as all that, but she’s good reading and actually knows the answer to the question, “Where the Hell is Merrill?” and completely understands the answer, “Who the hell cares?”
I have three excellent reads who have had to relocate for personal and harassment reasons. I do wish I had permission to give them shout-outs but I don’t. Once I do you’ll find them in the Hot Bloggers section of the sidebar.
To those three: Do please let me know when I can give your props to you here in pubic, ok?
It’s just too easy
It’s just too easy to find things like this on the interwebnetz. Thanks to Fark and The Smoking Gun.
And I wonder why I need a bleach shower every time I look at my search engine hits…
New Goodies
I put up some new scented goodness on the business blog–go look NOW!
Huh?
Pamela Anderson Objects to Breeding for Large Breasteses
Oh, quit it, you know you had to go look.
And the prize
…for the grossest search engine hit ever to turn up this blog is:
Here.
Ew.
And I’m the #1 hit. You can be proud of me too.
