Even though I’m obsessing about this crap, I try not to write about it too much. ‘Cause I know you guys don’t really give a tiny cashew-shaped shitlet – and rightly so. But this new site is giving me a case of the recta-hives.
Well, not the new site, exactly… More specifically, the way the new site works with the old one. My idea was to integrate the two, take advantage of the superior WordPress attributes for the daily updates, but still use FrontPage for the Smoking Fish gallery, and things like this. Even though FP sucks overall, it does do a few things well.
But I couldn’t get them to work together. I don’t know if it’s jealousy, or paranoia, or what, but they just don’t like each other. I hope not too many of you saw it, but last week the bunker cam threw a hissy-fit and turned into nothing but a HUGE collection of random letters and numbers and lightning bolts. Wotta mess.
Also, I had two homepages for a while, and it confused (or as one of my Little League coaches used to say, cornfused) Google. The old page was still receiving a lot of traffic, because of the “home” links at the bottom of every freakin’ update, and my stats were being split and diluted.
Consequently, our Google overlords demoted the Surf Report from a PageRank of five, down to a three. Which means we’re less “reliable” now, and will be listed lower in search results. And I can’t have that.
But, I’m working on all this stuff, and will get the bugs hammered out of it soon. In fact, I think I’ve finally unlocked the mystery of the FrontPage situation, and it’s working at the moment. If it continues to cooperate, I’ll have a metric shitload of great new Smoking Fish sightings to share with you on Monday.
Over the weekend I’m planning to build an easy index that can be used to navigate the FrontPage archives, which are pretty much hidden at this point. And someday soon I’m confident I’ll be able to devote my full attention to The Ridiculousness again.
Thanks for your patience.
Yesterday I invested 12 British pounds ($22.03) in six months worth of access to the Clive Bull show archives. Since I started my “new” job (coming up on a year already), I haven’t been able to listen to Clive, and really miss it.
So, I paid the money, downloaded his show from Wednesday night, and listened to the whole thing at work yesterday. It was great.
I love radio and music, much more than TV and movies. Give me a bunch of old Jack Benny mp3s, some Jean Shepherd, Phil Hendrie, and Singles Going Steady, and I’m one satisfied sumbitch. But put me in front of a TV and I start to wince & fidget within thirty minutes…
And so it goes.
Have you ever paid cash-money for access to a radio show archive? Or the members-only section of a website? I used to pay Phil Hendrie $6.95 per month, but he stopped adding the material I wanted, so I quit. What about you? Is there anything worth it?
Last night I found myself locked into some kind of perpetual pee-loop with another man at work. Are you familiar with this phenomenon? You get into a pee-pattern that directly corresponds with someone else’s? I don’t care for it.
In fact, I tried to break out of it by ingesting large amounts of liquids. I thought I’d be able to force myself into a new sequence, and away from my accidental piss-partner.
But it didn’t work. Either he had the same idea, or his bladder sensed the adjustment I’d made, and took action.
It was disturbing. And since he was always the first to enter the bathroom (the cycles were off by roughly thirty seconds), I worried he might believe I was stalking him, and trying to catch a glimpse or something.
No, as far as I can tell, nothing good can come from a case of pissronicity. I was glad when they let us go home, where I could whizz freely and without fear of generating whispered rumors at the Kit Kat machine.
And something very strange just happened to me. Between the pee piece and now, Toney and I went to Scranton to get the propane tank filled, and stopped at a local yuppie bar on our way home.
And not that it has anything to do with the story, but we had two pints of Sierra Nevada each – and the tab was only ten bucks. Man, that’s simply excellent… Must’ve been happy hour.
Anyway, when we got home I went inside and dropped my keys and crap, and returned to the car for the tank. And while I was walking toward the front door some kind of insect swooped from the sky, and stung me on the back of the head!
What the hell, man?? It slammed into my noggin, hitting it with great force. And almost immediately I felt the old familiar pain, a memory from childhood. I’d been stung by something predatory, with a big ol’ chip on its waspy shoulder.
Shit, I’d been minding my own business; I wasn’t bothering anyone. It’s a wonder I didn’t go cascading down the stairs.
As I entered the house I was squealing like a retard at a roller derby, and Toney asked what was wrong. When I told her, her face contorted with the effort of trying to hold back laughter. And this is funny, a man innocently walking down a sidewalk, and being poisoned from the sky? This is what passes for comedy now??
Toney gave me an ice pack from the freezer, and I held it to the back of my head. But she kept going into the kitchen, where I think she was secretly using a loaf of French bread as a laugh-muffler. Unbelievable.
Now I’ve got a big ol’ knot on the back of my head, and I don’t feel quite right. I suspect I’ve been infected with something, and will eventually end up like this.
What would just dive from the sky, stinger-first, aiming at the back of someone’s head? I’ve never even heard of such a thing. What is this, Africa??
I bet hair will start falling out of the knot, by midnight. And then where will I be? I probably won’t even be able to go to Sam’s Club for my Saturday hotdog feed.
How long has it been since you’ve been stung by an insect? I think I was sixteen the last time it happened to me. And maybe someday I’ll tell that story as well… It was also traumatic.
And I’ll leave you now with a question from the Stealing Clive Bull’s Topics desk: what do you think is the ugliest car, currently in production? What’s your opinion on that one?
I’d give you mine, but I’m getting a little woozy here. You know, from the bat-bite, or whatever.
See ya soon, hopefully.