You know, I’d feel bad about us not getting a post together tonight, but I know for a fact that you just come here for the comments anyway, so it’s no big deal.
Anyway, you’ve got the whole weekend ahead of you and a wad of cash in your sweaty little fist (which is all covered in Cheeto dust), so maybe you could dump a little of it on one of our fine advertisers.
There’s Rogue Amoeba. They make good stuff. Although Kafasis tried to kill me that one time.
Well, there’s also Delicious Monster. The things they can do with an iSight camera. Tell you what. Although Shipley did call me a… well, let’s just say he said I like to do something to dogs that I don’t. Totally. I mean… really. I don’t even know how that would work.
Anyway, that brings us to our new advertisers: Shiny White Box and Many Tricks. They also make boss software and so far neither of their CEOs has tried to kill me or accused me of being into bestiality.
Of course, we’ve only just met so…
I should probably give them some time.
…
Do you think Gruber has this kind of relationship with his advertisers?
Since we are in the 20’s I let a bunch of lions loose in the Tunnels.
Now it will be the roaring 20’s.
Or as they say across the pond, The Interwar Years.
Maybe roaring now, but I feel a stock market crash sneaking up on us.
Sell!
What happens if you are so poor, you’ve nothing to sell?
All donations, gratefully received.
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Love being a pedant and as such have this pathological need to point out that the previous post is not blank.
Ace, you have destroyed my faith in human beings.
Saskatoon: Montana and North Dakota meet Red Green. It snows.
Pretty soon the holidays will be here and I’ll have a ton of time off! YAY ME!
Oh woe. Oh weep. Oh sackcloth and ashes. Oh total despair. Please add your own lamentations.
No Del over Christmas and the New Year.
How shall I commit suicide?
Grand Prize for the best suggestion but not if it works.
And no, this did not originate in Nigeria.
Nxxx, try suicide by eating rich foods at the finest restaurants every meal. It’s working pretty well for me so far, except I haven’t died yet. You may have to apply for a research grant to fund it, however.
Del, I suggest you spend your holiday laying fiber-optic cable from Detroit to your farm. That way we’ll be able to see you more often.
Moles are good at tunnelling. Badgers too.
Are we going to see oPtoMoles and oPtoBadgers with fibre-optic tails?
Then we will be able to see Del? As long as she can’t see us.
Can’t understand it, Steve is slipping. The Mac spellchecker does not recognise oPtoMoles or oPtoBadgers.
What do you expect? I doesn’t understand iFlames or Sexbots either.
I hear that it DOES understand lesbian and ninja, though.
Who Doesn’t?
Once a waitress said to me, “Alcohol is slow suicide.”
It’s okay. I’m not in a big hurry. Can I have another?
And some gin is sloe suicide.
I’ll stick with methylated spirits and orange squash.
Methylated spirits is FAST suicide!
So is being hit by a steamroller!
*hops in steamroller and begins driving through the tunnels at high speed*
Thankfully I decided to wear my gecko boots and walk on the tunnel ceilings today.
Zoom! There goe Del–never saw so much roadkill in one tunnel before.
That’s not a flounder, I think it used to be a poodle.
1942, bet somthing important was happening,… a steam roller is a very slow and cumbersome machine, hadn’t made one in about 80 years, hope Del is careful on that antique, (a boiler explosion in the tunnels could be a problem)
Ace, don’t think it was a flounder, or even a poodle, most likely a turtle..
Must admit being run over by a steam roller driven by Del would not be such a bad way to go but it must be an Aveling.
Hey my tractor is a 1942. Other than the fuel line freezing up in cold weather it works very well.
The year of large explosions and war’s end.
1946, HHey, it’s gettting ccold in hhere or wwhat? Oh, never mind,… it’s jjust the sstart of the ccold wwwar…..ˇ
I have nothing to report at this time. I move that we adjourn so I can feed the ravens. They’re feeling kind of peckish.
Ace,
Are you a Beefeater, or more correctly, Yeoman Warder of the Tower of London? They have an official Raven Feeder.
Nxxx, I can’t believe I neglected to mention this to you, a British subject, but yes, I am an honorary member of the guard.
They call me the Ravenmaster of the American West. My job is to feed the ravens at the Tower of McLoughlin, and guard any prisoners the Crown might have accidentally misplaced in the area. So far that hasn’t happen. Because of the locale, I don’t wear the uniform worn in London. Rather, it consists of jeans, a red flannel shirt, and a Pendleton hat.
Occasionally I get other assignments. For example, a few years ago I was instructed to provide security for Prince Charles and the boys in British Columbia while they were taking a ski holiday at Whistler. But I got confused at the airport because they don’t ship the Royals all on the same flight. As a result, I spent the whole time trying to catch them as they went from place to place in Vancouver, always arriving just after they’d left each venue. Instead of a bicycle, I should probaby have rented a car–it’s so clear now in retrospect.
Another time, they had me guard one of the Crown Jewels. It was a pearl about the size of a peanut. Quite impressive, really. Anyway, I kept it safe for three months until they took it back. Next time I’m hoping for a ruby.
Well, the ravens are making a racket again–time for their 12:00 feeding. Since I’ve run out of beef, I’ve been bottle-feeding them with high-fructose corn syrup. They don’t mind; they’ll eat anything.
1951 – John Mellencamp, Bob Geldof, Sting, Chrissie Hynde, Ace Frehley, Melissa Manchester, and Phil Collins born.
Also Rush Limbaugh and Dale Earnhardt.
I didn’t want the rednecks to feel left out.
And 1951, too.
Well, I was born in 1952, the Year of the Dragon. Unfortunately, none of us born in that year ever became famous or accomplished anything of note. We’re the lost generation.
Ace,
Never became famous or accomplished? You absolutely MUST realise that it was your mention of Year of the Dragon that inspired Del to come up with the iFlame.
1953, Two years after the South Bank Exhibition but who wanted to look at a bank?
I’m a dragon also!
Yay dragons!
I think it is time to burn this post down or up since they reversed the order.
*switched iFlame to high*
Hey Ace!
I too am from your (our) Year of the Dragon.
Flame ON!
I guess it makes sense with our love of the iFlame. It is weird that such a large percentage of the Tp’ers are dragons.
I guess it’s okay being a dragon, but if people call me a flamer I’ll bet that some will interpret it as somehow being gay in the homosexual sense, Not That There’s Anything Wrong With That.â„¢
Waving an iFlame in their faces would probably convince them of my badditude.
If I ever did convert, I wouldn’t be the flamboyant type anyway. My little pinky would get repetitive stress syndrome.
Tea, Vicar?
Ace,
We no longer invite the vicar to tea and strain our little fingers trying to be polite, the bastard comes down the pub and drinks us all under the table. Used to be the Catholic trick but now the Prods are doing it. One runs the 69 Club. It’s not what you are thinking but a Rockers Re-Union organisation.
That beats the hell out of what we’ve got her for parsonage. They either are milk toast (i.e. completely boring), child molesters, raging loonies or any combination of the 3 above.
Hooray for divulgence.
Yes! I get 1961, the year of my arrival, and also, if you take it and turn it upside down, it’s still the same, just pick your monitor up (carful with the cords… don’t knock the coffee over) turn it upside down and see for yourself….. or you could write it on a piece of paper, yes that would be easier.
Cool King! I spend like 45 minutes doing this on my laptop. First I installed MacSabre to make it more audibly interesting. Then I had to go and help fight off ANOTHER clone army.
Del, don’t come crying to me when you poke your eye out with that thing!
Wow. Miniskirts!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Don’t worry I’m wearing eye protection.
Maybe I should stop making psychotic clones and releasing them into the wild. It does seem to cause problems down the road.
1966
Now entering high school…
I’d rather not think about it.
This is strange. I was just out in central Oregon exploring a lava tube near Newberry Crater, and found that it connected to our tunnel system (I could tell because of the lemony-fresh shag carpeting). It opened into a large underground cavern lit with grow-lights. At first I thought it would turn out to be an illegal drug operation, but to my surprise it’s filled with pasture, and grazing on this underland was a herd of dogcows. You heard me, dogcows. They look very much like the Susan Kare icons, but 3D and much dustier. The moofing was eerie, and plaintive. Some of them surrounded me and started wagging their tails and begging. I fished around in my coat pockets and found some turkey jerky, which they were crazy for, so I assume they are omnivorous like dogs. Oddly, in this group of about 300, they took turns herding each other, even though they don’t seem to ever leave the cavern. Since there is a subterranean creek flowing thriugh the cavern meadow, they probably don’t need to go elsewhere.
Though the presence of the artificial daylight suggests there is an owner, none of them is branded, so I’ve decided to adopt them, if only to prevent someone from hauling them off to the butcher. They’re awfully cute. I’ll visit them every week, until I find out who put them here and how they reproduce since they are neither males or females on inspection (Maybe budding?).
Could this be one of Del’s genetic experiments gone wild, er, domestic? Time will tell.
1968, the Nixon error begins,
Ace, be careful around those dogcows, they may not be vacinated.∞
Ah, yes, ’69. That was a great summer.
70?
Maybe drugs?
Maybe Stones?
Maybe nowt?
We are nearing my birth year.
Ace, not that I know anything about the doccow herd or genetic experiments, but I can assure you that dogcows are indeed female. Please see History of the Dogcow Part 2
Somewhere along the line I baptized the dogcow “Clarus.” Of course she’s a female, as are all cows; males would be referred to as dogbulls, but none exist because there are already bulldogs, and God doesn’t like to have naming problems.
The apple technote:
http://developer.apple.com/technotes/tn/tn1031.html