Lo, did the Lord Cookie Jesus, filled with wrathful filling, look upon the Cloverhill Big Texas Honey Bun, and lo did the Lord thinketh that the pride of Cloverhill, the hubris of its bigness, the chemical nature of its Honey, the plastic of its Bun, and the Lord did smiteth out and smack the Cloverhill down. Lighting was hurled, and fires did it starteth, and rain did it pour, and trees did it toss about with willy nilly abandon.
25 minutes of insanity around 3 am Sunday morning took the form of sideways 3 inch and hour rainfall and 65 mph winds and some hail thrown in and then woke up to the emerging buzz of dozens of chainsaws removing limbs and entire trees from the sides of houses, and then read in the paper it was mostly just our neighborhood. Shape of the neighborhood or our house or happenstance saved us from the worst, but 70 foot oak just lying on a house like it was taking a nap, having uprooted and tipped over just down the block, was quite a sight. Fences halfway into the street. Large gravel rolled 50 yards down the street. Very impressive, Cookie Jesus!
I know it would be juvenile, but back in the day we would have had a caption contest with CSPAN screen shots of one Ted “Rage Salamander” Cruz.
Sorry I have not updated you constantly on Matthew Y. being a cobag- that is pretty much a daily situation.
I can’t believe we are so far flung that we cannot do choco skittles shooters and raise a little heckwagon.
Question: Guess who I thought about when this graduate student Johnny Science started chatting with me the other day and the only thing I could think was “this dude is high as a kite, hope he didn’t break any SCIENCE”?
Question: RE: weekly Cloverhill Big Texas radio report, whenever I hear an oldies song on the oldies station that plays songs that should NOT be considered OLDIES, whatsoever, and it is a song that I have never heard before I am slightly happy, because it is something old that is new. I usually ask _______ about it, who in turn asks _________, but Google solved it for me, and then when I looked it up, the song had been Number 1.
The song was this one: UPDATE RE: this song, fish probably knows the Klaus Nomi version.
I took a nap one day and I woke up and I got worried that somebody was maybe trying to have a “who can go the longest without posting” and then I didn’t want to lose just in case this was a game that was being played. Just in case.
Also this thing is like a gym membership, I pay for it but it doesn’t get used.
I think this is a better excuse than some people “OH I HAD 1 MILLION BABIES!!!!!!” or “I DELETED MY WEB LOG AGAIN WHOOOOOOOOPS” or “wev life wev”. What sort of nonsense is continuing to prevent us from communicating as jovial band of friendsies? I hope, fear and yet still imagine that plover is connected in an internecine web of mistaken identities and possibly stuffed in Edward Snowden’s duffel bag.
Seitz is revving up Song of the Day to enrich our lives with musical content. I encourage people to check it out. Hope to have more from our side as well. Minimally would be nice to give thumbs up or thumbs down on the various selections presented.
I don’t know how much value Matt Yglesias bashing will have to the proceedings, but I would do it for zero clicks, so my aims are pure.
What will it take to spruce up this place? 2000 Word CHEEP articles? Discussions about current events? Punning? A party thread? Planning a mission to rescue Yosef from In N’ Outer Mongolia (that would be an amazing place)? The creeping malaise of being bored with the internet must be stopped. Jexter has arisen from under the stone, Popren has arisen from his long slumber, the beast from the depths of despair is nowhere to be seen, citrus fashion will become popular again, the rolo gun is locked and loaded.
Update: when did we get a polaroid thing on our picture things? Where am I?
I saw some computer or internet thing called a “Plover” and I had to laugh. I know this is an inside-out joke in our empty spaces here as the tumbleweeds blow through, though.
Unrelated, I just got an email that reminded me of our delightful heyday. VERY funny. I miss everyone and hope all is well in our world, though I remain more than perturbed at the possibility of Mad Max franchising locally if not nationally or internationally. I also don’t want to rely on the fact that I might not taste good to ward off zombies. I can’t quite see how taste-aversion would protect me once my brain were sampled in even the tiniest of portions.
Interesting notes: an out and about young person was filled with the Spirit and was moved to say something nice, but slightly hilarious about myself and The Goob. We were nicely walking in Nature and she stopped and said we reminded her of thinking about The Father ministering to His Son or something else culturally capitalized. It was meant as a nice sentiment, and I expressed this to her for her kind words (in her way), but I could only think abouttelling you yahoos about it, and the chorus of inevitable Trollypantses saying “Christ, What an Asshole”
This thing is like a tax on my time. I will not even remember the teams in this thing next year.
And I made some Korean BBQ and found out that the backup Ssamjang had changed colors and was actually two years expired.
CONSTANT DEGRADATION, and probably oxidation.
I double dog dare K. to order a Bud Black Crown some time at the local. Then she can hand the barkeep a marker to write on her shirt “yes” to its trendy, “ironic” “DO I LOOK LIKE A COBAG?” FRANKIE SAY RELAX QUESTION
…just who the hell is this Harold Angel fella, and why is he harking all over the place? (question inspired musically by Pinko Punko’s favorite band Bad Religion, on the seasonal playlist known as “Bells To The Wall”; as zombies have been getting all festive and decorative and such) (just taking a break and replenishing […]