Is it just me, or is it hot in here... Nevermind. I figured it out.

 
Voting doesn't catch fish. That's really all one can say about it these days.

 
Sanjay is one of our newest neighbors here on blog*spot. In fact, he just set up his blog. Sanjay sees God as an independent film maker. Or into interactive media on the universal scale. Or something along those lines.

Hey, even Shakespeare claimed the world is little more than a stage. Now I'm not positive he believed this, but the thoughts expressed were in his hand. We can only assume. Anyway, I'm just waiting for my scene.

 
"Heeeere, puss-y. Puss-y puss-y puss-y."

 
This morning at 10:51:06 eastern time, I received two hits on my Blurried Musings blog. These two identically timed visits came from two separate machines hidden behind the US Department of Defense Internet gateway (NIPR or NIPRNet). Can't say why they were visiting, how long they were there, what they were looking for, and if they found it.

Am I concerned about this? You bet I am. I'm concerned because they were using version 3 browsers (Netscape Navigator and Microsoft Internet Explorer). I mean, Come On!

 
I'd rally up some guff over the incident last week of the three medical students stopped in Florida and the subsequent, abhorrent behavior of our press (sadly, they are ours), but I could never guff it up as much as the Daily Howler has.

Bravo, Bob.

 
This just in: married couples tend to live together in the same location, experts say.

 
Even Caesar is not immune from spam e-mail. I've often said spam is so insidious an affliction that neither space or time is an obstacle.

By the way, why is Caesar on a Canadian domain? I admit to missing a few semesters of history, still I don't recall ever hearing mention of Roman legions marching into Toronto. Perhaps he's just hosted there for political reasons.

 
According to a story on Ananova, there's some Duke University psychologists claiming that wearing mittens covered by Velcro® can help babies develop more quickly. Yes, and when the walls are covered with Velcro® as well, the babies start to crawl up them.

Next up, scientists will discover that Velcro®-covered pants lead to increased sex drives. I think it has something to do with the way Velcro®'s hooks and loops fit together.

 
Diarrhetic Crapping Monkeys. How many times must I repeat myself: just say no to drugs!

 
What I hate about cable companies who offer always on Internet connections is that they turn "always on" into a relative term.

 
This will be on your blog philosophy quiz:

Is a blog where anyone can register and post just a message board in disguise?

 
For crying out loud, doesn't anyone read their e-mail? Excuse me for these brief personal messages to some individuals out there:

Lita: I can't. Not that I wouldn't like to, but I don't have the time.

Elm, or whatever your name is: I don't bend over for Netscape 3, at least not on my blogs. Sorry you can't upgrade. It is a great browser, though -- for 1997.

Tom, or Page, or whoever e-mails me this week: Pardon me for the delay on The Blog Recorder. It will go live. Some day. Soon. Just not today.

Dammit, Demosthenes: blockquote {text-align: justify;} -- that's all I'm asking!

Every company I've sent my resume to in the past 8 weeks: At least be kind enough to reply with a polite "no thanks"...

 

Yeah, yeah, that's the coffin I want. Oh, and can she be buried with me?

 
Does my ass look big with these genes?

 
I think it's about time for a bit of cuteness.


Sorry. Needed to do that.

 
guff's Infidel Day coverage continues:

If God exists," the philosopher questioned, "why do bad things happen to good people?"

Eyes clouded, Joshua stooped and wrote on the ground. "Why do good people do bad things?" he answered.

"Why don't you just answer the question, wise ass," the philosopher scratched into the ground next to it.

(Hmm, the quote above is a complete story. Hope I didn't just step on someones copyright!)

 
Scrolling, scrolling...

Huh. When the hell did guff take a turn and become a near dedicated self-referencing blog? Enough! (Yeah, I know this post is more of the same, but it'll be the last for a while, honest.)

Readjustments to the posting engine inside my head are in process. Meanwhile, go read this.

 
Speaking of blasphemy, in a comment on World Wide Rant (go and read), which refers to a story at Fox News Channel (fair and balanced), that mentions a Mississippi Christian Minister (no link), who put up a sign proclaiming "There is one God, and his name is not Allah", I mentioned I was motivated to erect my own sign, and it would say:

There is no God, so it doesn't really matter what you call Him

Ignoring the incongruity of the sentence's use of capitalization in the pronoun referencing a deity (which only displays how nearly everything my six-grade teacher taught me is still of use), I've decided I don't much like the smug attitude in that sign. So here is my revised version:

If there is one God, you'd think we'd all be sure of His name by now!

 
Uh oh. I've been outed for the infidel blogger that I am. Once it's learned I'm running more than one, I'm sure I'll be marked as a vicious, virulent one as well. The truth hurts.

 
Is it me, or has visiting blogs residing at blog*spot become more like taking a long walk through a Scottish peat bog? At least on any given Sunday.

And by the way, if you visited here and briefly saw an arabic-language blog, or a page proclaiming the benefits of fornication through plastic, or perhaps something far more strange and unexpected like an error message, it was all part of the plan. But please, don't ask me about the plan.

 
Correction!

Seems my earlier report on the discovery of the first smiley was not entirely fact-checked by the guff editorial department. It should actually refer to it as the first ASCII smiley, according to some obsessed PLATO system guy. It's possible smileys may even have appeared on punch cards within (of all places) an IT group at Coca Cola. But really, what's the big deal. They're just smileys, not text off the freakin Rosetta Stone!

(First smack goes to the good folk at The Register, who were also stung by this mistake.)

 
This used to be me. Quite sad, really. Even more sad is, this used to be me, too.

Don't worry. I'm much better these days. Honest.

 
Rhetorical question: Why do we use the word "plain" to describe food items which do not include anything extra, like "plain bagel" or "plain monkey chips"? We don't do this for all things, as in "plain Coke" or "plain BLT on rye."

From here on I will no longer use it, and instead employ conversations like this:

Kafkaesquí: I would like 6 donuts, please.
Bakery Clerk: Do you want plain?
Kafkaesquí: I don't know. What does the plain come with?

 
Wow, that's one seriously old wang.

Addendum: So is this one.