Sick blogging

Why is it that women feel every time one of us men fall ill we revert back to a infantile state of being. That we're no longer capable of taking care of ourselves, that we have to be catered too and require being spoken to in a tone of voice resembling that of a mother speaking softly too a newborn.

Yet while adhering to the ladies' Florence Nightingale complex, instead of going to the intensive care unit where we rightfully belong, if we mention, in passing, that we aren't feeling so hot we suddenly transform into the world's biggest candy ass. It's as if a woman's ability to give birth to a teeny tiny little baby entitles them to kick us while we're down; the birth giving process often being one in which the lady’s every whim is attended to while they comfortably recline on a bed with foot rests, waiting for the doctor (often a man) to come in and help them through a natural process they can’t get through on their own.

Now you're probably wondering what's brought all of this to light. This weekend I was stricken by an illness, once so severe that my mere survival of said illness is a testament to my deity-like status. Yet while I was battling this viral infection, fading in and out of consciousness, struggling to stay in this world, the missus chose to kick me while I was down. Oft referring to me as whinny and saying she's carrying one baby she doesn't need another to take care of.

As I battled this viral infection, locked in a life or death struggle for the ages to remember, the missus gleefully went about her way. There I was laying in what could have quiet possibly been my deathbed, running a fevered temperature of 99.2 degrees, as she was gallivanting about the city running errands and carrying on as if everything were normal. Why is it that women, who expect the world to come to a screeching halt when during the brief time they give birth to a child, are unable to express compassion for those who shelter and protect them on a daily basis and instead turn to mockery to deal with what they know must be a serious illness as well?

All we men are asking for is a bit of equality, yet we're repeatedly kicked in the ‘nads for asking for a bit of help when we're down.

Fashion sense

William Teach of The Pirates Cove discussed one of the many reasons why men hate shopping.

The same Metrosexual Sonsahbeeches's in charge of the inventories that require advanced seasonal purchase swear that Pink is the new Brown. Does anything scream, look at me I'm a raging homo more than a guy in a pastel pink shirt and low rise jeans? Not that there's anything wrong with being raging homo, it's just not my cup of herbal tea.

Why it is now impossible to walk into a clothing store and find regular fit clothes in relatively normal colors? If it isn't Muscle Cut(read gay), Vintage Fit(read uber-gay) or Slim Fit(read my birth name is Frank, but my friends call me Francis) it's pastel. When it comes to jeans they're boot-cut, low-rise, relaxed-fit, baggy, tapered, not straight-leg, etc..., WTF happened to regular fitting jeans?

The person that felt it'd be a great idea to market low rise jeans to the men of America needs to tote a good ole southern ass whippin'. Plumber's crack really was bad enough prior to the advent of the gonad strangling dungaree impostors. It wasn't so bad seeing the tops of thongs, on certain young ladies and even some not so young ladies, well until I read this article, however the low rise jeans bit is a trend that should have never jumped the sex barrier.

It shouldn't take two hours for an average sized guy, 6'3" tall - 180 pounds, to find a couple of shirts and some decent fitting jeans; however the last time the missus drug me to the mall to buy replacement jeans it took every bit of two hours. Really since when is any self-respecting man going to own a closet full of pastel shirts and low rise jeans?

Clarification please

Why do the major news outlets' keep referring to the teenaged boys that have had "relations" with their hot, blonde teachers as permanently damaged?

Don't they realize that during the teen years a male would have sex with a rattlesnake given half the chance?

Let's call them what they are, lucky SOB's living out most teen's dreams.

Sharing the Hate...

And this is why The Hatemonger's Quarterly is one of my daily reads:

In addition, may we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” humbly suggest that a lesbian basketball player isn’t exactly a shocking scandal? It’s like a gay interior decorator. Who would have thunk it?

Now if we could just get them setup with comments their humble "weblog" they would certainly become one of Al Gore's interweb's most popular websites.

Writing about rights....

It's Thursday and time for us (the Men's Club and the Demystifying Divas) to cover another topic. Today's topic is a tad bit on the serious side. The topic, whether the biological father of an unborn child should have the right to block a woman's abortion; and should she be subject to damages for her failure to disclose prior to termination of the pregnancy?

The topic of abortion is a tough, and often troll baiting, topic alone. Add in the options of either a)women having a right to control their bodies or b)the penis wielding womb butchers¹ have absolute moral and physical authority of what women should or shouldn't do, and the topic gets even rougher. Me I like trolls, almost as much as I'd like a stalker, thus mean, hateful and nasty comments are welcome, just make sure they're on topic and don't forget to kiss me on the cheek when your done with the spanking.

On to the first part of the topic: Should the biological father have the right to prevent an abortion? No more so than he should have the right to force an abortion. It all boils down to circumstances. Should a one-night-stand gone awry have a resounding effect for the next eighteen plus years of the three people's lives? How about a couple that has only been together for a short time period, weeks or months? How about years? Or if they're married? What happens if the mother's life is in danger? Should rapist be allowed to force their victims to carry their children to term? If you follow the strictest of pro-life arguments, in each of the cases mentioned above the answer is the unborn child should be carried to term.

I for one however can't go along with that train of thought. In my humble little opinion, it all boils down to a woman's right to decide what is best for her and what to do with her child birthing equipment. If a male is ready to utilize the reproductive tools bestowed upon him, then it's in his best interest to find a woman ready to bare the fruits of his loins. Until then we men are, and should be, at the mercy of the fairer sex.

Given my views on the first part I don't see how a woman could be held liable for controling her body.

If in the future technology allows for incubation from conception to "birth", then the laws may need to be revisited. Until then, if a man wants absolution control over his swimmers and their biological functions then it's best to fly solo or not fly at all until he finds someone willing to birth his babies.

For other views: Jamesy, Our Maximum Leader, Stiggy and That 1 Guy.

And the ladies: Phoenix, Kathy, Silk and Ruth.

Note: 1) Phrase Stolen shamelssly from Jeff Goldstein of Protien Wisdom.

Who's your daddy????

With the Commissar working on a blogger family tree it had me wondering who is to blame for the mindless drivel y'all find here on a semi-regular basis. I've also had a couple of people who've asked me who got me started blogging.

In the truest since I've had a blog in one form or another since I enrolled in Computer Science back in college ('95 - '96). We were required to maintain a website with course work, projects, etc...

The evolution from of a web site with mainly tech notes, projects and a bit about daily work happenings to blog splat and then MuNu happened when I stumbled upon blogger though a google search and then browsing with the next blog feature. I'd heard of blogging before then but never paid a whole lot of attention to it.

My original blog splat blog got trashed as it was a fairly incoherent band of thoughts and ramblings, mainly technically based and I started phin's blog after I went on several tirades, basically venting to the PC instead of the missus.

Am I really just the bastard child of the Computer Science department of my local university and blogger. It's not really a though I cherish as most of the professors are stinky liberals. I would be almost as unpleasant feeling as learning you're secretly the love child of Andrew Sullivan and Hillary Clinton.

Maybe I'll adopt Pixy, the Llama Butchers. the Fortnightly ladies and the Velocidevil as my blog 'rents. That'd be an interesting menagerie wouldn't it?

Another update on the way...

Another massive, major, earth shattering, life changing announcement coming soon (at least in my little world). No the missus isn't having twins or triplets.

However I will leave you with this question:

Why is it the little things in life that bring us so much amusement and the greatest pleasure; yet they also get us into the most amount of trouble?

If anybody's looking for me I'll be on the couch; at least until the missus quits trying to elbow me in the ribs.

The new math

My collegiate career left me three or four courses shy of having a bachelors of science in Mathematics. For some reason the brain trusts that formed the Computer Science curriculum, and not just at the school I attended, decided Math should be the predominant theme.

The early years of my collegiate experience (I spent a total of eight years enrolled full time) were spent studying Linear Algebra, Calculus and Statistics. From there as I moved into courses geared more towards my "major" I was taking Discrete Mathematics, Computation and Complexity Theory, and other various math courses mixed in with the computer science courses. During these courses I've seen and studied numbers enough to drive sane men batty and to push those of us already teetering on the edge into full blown insanity.

After gradiashun I'd decided the real world wasn't for me, plus the tech bubble was about to burst, so I decided to stay in skool. I'd started out going after my Masters Degree in Computer Science, then after another semester spent in the hallowed halls of the Math Building (which had a perpetual aroma of body odor) I decided I'd switch gears and become an SOB. Well at least I'd be a certifiable SOB since I was going after my MBA, I'd officially be a School Of Business student.

Thus the focus of my mathematical edumicatshun switched focus. No longer was I writing three and four page proofs to solve one question, I was now concerned with Debts and Credits, Micro and Macro Economics, Financial Reports and how to tame the Shrew using Statistics once again.

Yet all these courses failed to teach me anything about the facts of life. Yes during my eight years of College one course backed up theories of "New Math". That indeed 1 + 1 = 3, and in some cases 1 + 1 = 4 or more. I've spent hour upon hour researching this on Al Gore's wonderful internet and I've found a couple of sites stating this to be true, yet they fall to the way side with all the naked midgets and dancing penguins available.

Proof folks I've got photographic, and other graphic, proof that 1 + 1 = =3. See the missus is "with child", so Me + Her = phin jr. Of course negotiations are still taking place in the naming arena as she isn't a fan of naming him phin. The missus has reached week 22, or is it 23, of the impregnation cycle and all things are progressing fairly well. No morning, afternoon or evening sickness, not significant cravings of any sort and she hasn't broken my fingers yet (although a couple of ribs are in questionable shape).

A couple of weeks back she had an ultrasound done, things are progressing as expected. Ten Fingers, Ten Toes, Eyes, Ears, Mouth, a dangling participle, Yay a dangling participle. He's a boy and he isn't bashful (just like dear ole dad). We were given pictorial proof that we (or at least she) had had "the sex" and gotten it right.

The pictures are below in the extended entry, bloggering may be light the next day or two as I'll be in meetings since 1 + 1 an additional mouth to feed.

It's a Boy!!!

I've tried to talk the missus into the nickname of Tripod until he's born but she isn't going for that name either. I guess in the interest of self preservation and harmony we'll go with Whozit or Junior.

RINO Sightings

This week's edition of RINO Sightings being hosted by the Lousiana Libertarian.

phin's blog version 0.68

Now with more byte!!!

As y'all may have noticed I was being repressed or as my psuedo-eviler older and sometimes wiser brother likes to call it a "kidnapping".

The good news is I'm not dead! The even more better news is I'm not kidnapped anymore either. So bloggering should return to as normal as it's ever been around here.

Details of the harrowing escape may follow, or may not, but I'll take this moment to introduce you to Geno and Bruno. They're partially responsible for phin's release. Really can you say no to a couple of guys with names that end in vowels?

The grand inquisition has been posted at basil's, maybe this'll finally get me started on, as the canadians say, an aboot me page.

A phin-napping day two...

phin's still alive and talking, for now.

For what you're missing check out phin's interview at basil's blog.

I've still got the fish.

A kidnapping

I've got the fish.

Hear phin's plea for help.

I'm not Imaginary...

Just a friendly reminder to Ruth and Chrissy that I'm not a figment of their imaginations.

I may be transparent.
But Imaginary not a chance.

The truth, if it exists...

'tis another Thursday and today's topic for the Demystifying Divas and The Men's Club is three things we'd like to have the oppositely sexed folks out there explain their views on.

Being a rather inquisitive person it took me a while to figure out just three things I wanted to have answered.

First would have to be the unnecessary mutilation and mutations and contortions y'all endure. If y'all really don't want us noticing the twins why do you have them taped / strapped / padded / pulled or otherwise contorted so they're approximately three inches below your chin? Of course we're going to stare at the grand Tetons you've got them prominently on display; it'd be like expecting Rover to completely ignore the mailman as we walks across the front lawn, it's just unnatural. Then there's makeup, granted a bit of makeup may help to enhance natural feature, but by and large most women could do without the war paint. By and large, as with all things, natural is mo' better. Speaking of natural, what the hell are y'all thinking when you pluck / wax / shave / otherwise remove your eyebrows and try to color them in with a magic marker. The "synthetic eyebrow" look isn't become, on the contrary it's down right scary at times and clownish at others.

Second, what the hell is so hard about checking the status of the toilet seat? Ladies it's as much your fault as it is ours; unless there is some genetic mutation that we men are unaware of that prevents women from checking to ensure the seat is in the down and locked position before they plant their delicate derrieres to "make pee-pee"? Maybe there is a genetic deformity, which would also explain why light switches are always left in the up (ON) position as well.

Thirdly all the incessant open ended questions that have no right answer. All the dreaded questions that men we know if we answer them honestly we may as well take a vow of celibacy. "Does this dress / skirt / pantsuit make my ass look fat?" Nope, but the three cheeseburgers and value sized fries you just scoffed down ain't helpin'. Shortly after wild monkey lovin', asking: "So what're you thinking about?" The truth is, it's either nothing 'cause we're about to get some sleep or we're comparing you to your sister that's just a bit more kinky. The list of question is endless, yet they all have the same end result of the lady that's asked it being disappointed. Why, why, why do y'all feel the need to ask these questions, if you're really into pain wouldn't a nice game of slap and tickle be a whole lot more fun and also mutually gratifying?

Stiggy, The Villains, and Jamesy shall be producing questions as well. Nugget is our guest inquisitor this week so see what he has to say as well.

For the ladies perspective, head over and see what Kathy, Silk, and Phoenix have to say. Ms. Sadie says we're on a break, so we'll just have to fondly reminisce of better days (and increase stalking efforts).

Reason #1,092,969 why I hate computers

Because a simple Norton System Works security update deleted information essential to the operating system (i.e.: 90% of the Registry). Thus I have the joy of reinstalling Windows and the 100+ applications I run for work.

Reason #1,239,008 Why I like computers better than most people:
When you instruct a computer to do something it doesn't ask why half a dozen times and then pout when I finally reply "Because I farokin' said so, now do it or pack your crap and find another job.

For some reason folks think I'm a bit "testy" today.

Squealer

He screams like a girl.

Random thought

Why do the kind folks at classmates.com think their incessant pop-up ads are going to make me want to contact people I haven't talked to in over ten years? There's a reason I haven't kept in contact with them, they're beneath me. Anyhoo I do keep in contact with the captain of the football team, he picks up the garbage every Tuesday.

No I'm not an elitist, I'm just better than everybody else.

A fine line

Have you ever wanted to increase your animalistic prowess?

Does your significant other with you were more of a beast in the bedroom?

Why are the LLamas always grinning?

These questions and many more answered in the LLama's Guide to love making:
The Art of Llama Sutra®

Warning: The information in the extended entry will change your life forever. To view the Llama Sutra® Art of Hypnosis in action get clicking to view the extended entry.

Note: It's often been said there's a fine line between Genius and Crazy. If there was ever a chance of me landing on the genius side of that line it's passed.

I'm pretty sure I've crossed into the land of the unknown. Maybe the folks in white jackets will be nice enough to loosen the straps on my jacket long enough for me to check e-mail every now and then.

Hat tip: Confederate Yankee for the LLama Sutra phrase

Forgive me for I have sinned...

This man is the devil. Shhhhhh, you hear that, that's the sound of my arteries clogging. You don't really expect me to take responsibility for my actions that will probably lead to me having a quadruple bypass by the age of 31, do you?

It's Steve's fault, if I handn't read this post I wouldn't have followed in his steps(with a couple of modifications).

I fried the onions in bacon grease, which also meant I had crispy bacon to add to the sammich. I didn't have Jack Daniels around, but I did have a bit of Wild Turkey Rare Breed. Finally I used Provolone for the cheese.

This may be the GREATEST.SAMMICH.EVER.
In the words of Stewie "it's like an orgy in my mouth".

I'm having a couple of these sammiches for lunch today, if it's anything like it was last night I may pass out from the near orgasmic experience.

Update: I would have updated sooner but I think I blacked out for a bit. I didn't think it was possible for it to be even better the second day. It took me twice as long to as it normally does to eat since I was moaning and groaning the entire time. Now I've got to head by the butcher on the way home to pick up another shoulder.

Pearlington

The small town of Pearlington, Mississippi is looking for someone to adopt it. Michelle Malkin has a post up with an e-mail from a woman pleading for someone to adopt the all-but-forgotten tiny town of Pearlington:

Hi Michelle, I am an aid coordinator for the Katrina effort. My entire community jumped in with me and we adopted the town of Lumberton Mississippi. I have been working with Lumberton for a month now getting to know the people. My adoped town is inland a ways and as we ship aid to them they have been sharing with towns harder hit south of them. Yesterday my distribution contact in Lumberton got a call from Pearlington for help. He and the pick up truck brigade took what they could to Pearlington. He called and said to me "Nora, is there anything you can do for those folk? It's the worst I have seen. They have 300+ people sleeping on the ground on their football field. The whole town is just flattened. " ...This small town needs someone to adopt them so they get some attention.

I have kicked what ant hills I can in Mississippi Municipal League and elsewhere but more is needed. I don't know how to blog and get word out via web media. I've been using telephone and fax.

CAN YOU HELP ME get this poor town adopted and get them help. Their population is only about 1500. They are the small whistle stop no one will care about unless we can get the word out they are in dire need.

They are right across the water from New Orleans. I am so distressed that N.O. gets all the media and the little towns get nothing. Please can you help me find a way to raise visibility to the plight of the small Mississippi towns?

Nora Craig

If you'd like to help contact Michelle Malkin (malkin@comcast.net) and she will put you in touch with Nora Craig.

Hattip: Thoughts By Seawitch

RINO Sightings

The latest edition of RINO Sightings is up at Politechnical.

Question and aswer time

Being the epitome of a slacker I haven't gotten 'round to posting an about me section. I'm still not sure whether it's good or bad. If’n y'all realize all the bad habits I have you're liable to quit visiting of course I could always try the libertarian girl bit and claim to be a hot buxom blond, 'cept it may be a bit late for that. Anyhoo basil of basil's blog is doing interviews and I signed up.

So now's your chance to find out the answers to those burning questions, go ahead and ask'em.

Get steppin' cause the questions close 10/14

Updated 10/14: Last chance y'all questions close tonight.

I'm a slackard continued

This week's entry composed of three parts: Do men always have good sex? What about women do they have good sex? Who/what determines if the sex was, indeed, good?

First of I’ll apologize for the delayed nature of this posting and as much as I’d like to give the powers that be the ole one finger salute and blog instead of deal with work related crises well bloggin’ just doesn’t pay the bills. Now on to the matters at hand, so to speak.

When examining the question we have to wonder, what is great sex? If it’s reaching a physical climax then 99% of the time men are going to have great sex, the other 1% we’re so drunk we think we’re Dionysus (the Greek God Wine and Intoxication, who also had a way with the ladies) himself and if the ladies aren’t getting their jollies, well it isn’t our fault. If you’re to ask men that haven’t been married, or in this day and age been in a long term “relationship”, they’ll tell you that they always have good sex, however they haven’t experienced the toe curling, heart stopping, physically and mentally exhausting activity that can only be achieved once you’ve reached a certain level of love and trust.

This leaves one wondering if men are capable of having the bad sex and most certainly there are those who would say yes, it’s possible to have the bad sex. I haven’t experienced the bad sex first hand and feel relatively certain the missus hasn’t experienced the bad sex either. Of course she could be protecting my fragile ego, in which case at least one of us is happy and sleeping well at night. Most often stories of the bad sex revolve around a night of heavy alcohol consumption and a "friend" that they may or may not have known before the drinking started.

As for the ladies, do they have the good or the great sex? If they’re smart they do. As Sadie pointed out last week, it’s about edumucating your significant other. If they’re doing it wrong, expect them to keep doing it wrong if you’re emphatically screaming “You’re my big daddy!” while secretly waiting for him to finish up so you can get back to watching Oprah or doing your nails. Women have known for centuries that men are simpletons; why they haven’t figured out we need explicit instructions with lots of detail and subpoints, preferably with diagrams, is beyond me.

As I eluded to a bit earlier most folks will agree that casual sex is good, hell even less than perfect sex is still desirable, because face it sex is much more enjoyable when there are at least two (and in monogamous relationships only two) interested and active participants; a twosome sure beats a onesome everytime. The key of course being interested and active are both required, if you aren’t willing to put your all "into it" per say, it may be good but it won’t be great. Great sex is as much a mental act as it is physical, it’s being able to read and anticipate which acrobatic feat should be performed next. Only through communikateshun will you know if it is time for the triple lutz-double toeloop or should we shift gears and try a summersault-triple back flip dismount instead (bedroom acrbatics folks that's where the true path to gratification lies).

As with any physical activity just be sure you warm up first, as this helps to avoid injuries. Some prefer stretching, others foreplay, I prefer a six-pack of Abita Golden and a hot pastrami sammich.

For more enlightened and less disturbing approaches: the Air Marshal of Naked Villainy, Jamesy, Stigmata and That 1 Guy of Drunken Wisdom. The ladies Silk, Kathy, Chrissy and Phoenix.

Test ping

This post's only purpose in life is to send a test ping.

I'm a slackard...

'tis Thursday, which means it's time for another episode of fun and games with fireworks and fuzzy animals the demystifying divas and the men's club to cover another topic.

This weeks topic: do men always have great sex.

Regretfully I'm still researching the topic I had a last minute project dropped on me at work so I'll be posting it later tonight.

In the mean time check out the gents Naked Villainy, Jamesy, Stigmata and That 1 Guy of Drunken Wisdom. The ladies Silk, Kathy, Chrissy and Phoenix.

Yeowzer

An Arkansas mother just gave birth to her SIXTEENTH CHILD.

Why am I not surprised the husband and purported father's name is Jim Bob? Not that I'm pickin' on folks that go by two names, nope I'm pickin' on folks from Arkansas that either failed sex-ed or are just to friggin' amorous to stop crankin' out chitrens.

Talk about somebody having a birth canal like a slip and slide, I bet she's got child birthin' hips too.

Tip o' the bowler to basil.

A random conversation with my employer

Employer: I don't except this type of behavior from you.
Me: Sounds like you'd best lower you expectations.
Employer:...
Me: Can I get back to my nap now?

It's not my fault I'm a bit grumpy when somebody wakes me from my afternoon nap.

I could have been a contender!

I'm a bit disheveled, frantic as Francis might say as he sashays across the room.

Just like Steve, I could have been a contender in the Blogger Babe competition, 'cept my invitation entry form picture got lost in the mail.

My esteemed colleague noticed how upset we were at being left out and tried to console us, she's such a sweetheart. I can't help but feel must have been my trembling voice keystrokes that gave me away.

What do you expect after sobbing for hours when you realize you aren't in the running for King of Cotillion.

As an aside I'd have never chosen that picture of me since it makes my cheeks look a bit chubby. I prefer this pic:

Where I'm modeling my favorite gimp mask.

Steve-Ohhh

Clicky the picture for the explaination.

Seekrit message to Steve-O: that wasn't guac in the baby diaper.

We've got a bleeder...

I was sitting in my office about thirty minutes ago working (well acting like I was working) and I hear a blood curtailing scream. What I imagine it sounds like when someone's toenails are being ripped out, it was damned near deafening. It was then following by a couple more screams, yelps of pain and sobs.

As I scrambled out of my office to find out what was going on another coworker and I discovered the screams were emanating from the little boy's room. We weren't sure what the hell was going on and upon questioning the occupant we learned that another co-worker, let's call him Francis, had managed to catch himself in his zipper.

Seems he was trying to decide his next course of action, the door still shut and locked, when he figured the zipper had to come down at some point in time. Poor bastard, I'm sure removing himself from the gene pool wasn't on his list of things to do today.

All this time folks were wondering about Darwin's theories on evolution and I've got a prime example right here in my office. If you're wondering, no we didn't wait for him to leave before we started laughing. Hell we were calling him zippy as he walked out the door, to chants of "Franks and Beans".

The title of this post, beside making reference to us having to douse the restroom floor with Clorox to clean up the mess he'd made, it also an obscure quote from There's Something About Mary (the "Franks and Beans" quote was a bit more notable).

How routine are you?

A couple of weeks back Stiggy from the Project Bowl posted a series of questions asking people about their daily cyber routine.

I am rather curious as to when people do their mail checks, blog writing, news surfing or anything else. I'm sure some of you are extremely geeky and check emails all the time at every given chance but somewhere all of us have a modus operandi. Email checking first or blog reading? Blog reading in the afternoon? Gaming in the evening? Forums or BBS? Is it daily or weekly? Are the weekends different? Why?

In a new series of articles I am writing on the subject of etheropology (a completely made up word based on anthropology but meaning the study of human behavior relating to computers in particular the internet) I am asking for all of you to help. How? By asking the question of yourselves and perhaps ask the question on your blog or co-workers too. The more information gathered the better the cross-section of answers will be and hopefully the results will be interesting to read!

The subject of routines is the first in this series. Your replies can feature in the comments in this post or even on your blog (you can trackback to let me know or just drop me an e-mail here if you do that so I know to gather the information) or even just e-mail me your answers. Thanks in advance for all of your help.

For the e-mail checking, pretty much whenever I'm awake and near a computer with internet access. For the 9 - 10 hours I'm at the office it's constant. At home if I'm working on a site design or browsing Al Gore's wondermous Interweb, the e-mail programs are running and I'm receiving glorious information on all the new products that'll make my chesticles bigger and enhance my peni(none have worked so far but I haven't given up hope, maybe I'll try the stretch-o-matic 5000 next).

During the work week it's borderline unhealthy, I'll check work e-mail accounts first and start making return phone calls as I check my other e-mail accounts, peruse the blogroll and then start thinking about a post or two. For forums and BBS for the couple I check, I try to make it a daily routine, often it's semi-daily or when prodded by a have you checked the forum lately you dimwit type e-mail.

The weekends are most certainly different. Work e-mail, for the day job may get checked once or twice. Clients have my cell phone if it's a pressing matter they can reach me. My other accounts get checked depending upon Interweb access and the weekend's activities.

So what's your routine? Be sure to let Stiggy know in his comments, via e-mail or by posting the answers on your blog and tracking back to this address:
http://www.typepad.com/t/trackback/3256539

Present mood

I've debated off an on about putting one of the "My present mood is" type thingamadohickys in one of the sidebars for a while. The only problem is I haven't found a site with expressions I'd like to use.

When I woke up the words to this song were in my head and it did a pretty good job of describing the tone for today. Maybe there's one floating around that says: "My present mood is: slightly paranoid with a bit of psychosis mixed in."

If there is I sure as hell haven't been able to find it.

I'm so proud...

Well as proud as anyone could be regarding google bait.

I'd mentioned in passing (sure some may call it google baiting) that someone had found my humble abode on the blogidohexiweb by searching for sadistic female smokers

Well it appears that my humble little mention has garnered notoriety on the Interweb and I'm now the ranking number one when googling for sadistic females. Is there anywhere to go from here besides down?

It's also a fairly popular search since I've received at least ten hits today alone from people searching for Sadistic Women. To those searching, there aren't any posting here but I can get you the addresses and phone numbers of several.*

* I'm not implying that I live with two sadistic women. Then again, I'm not implying they aren't sadistic either.

Broken hearted

It is a sad day in the blogidohexiweb indeed.

It seems our Maximum Leader's efforts to defend his castle on the Interweb from cat blogging were unsuccessful.

We can only hope that our Maximum Leader's weblog doesn't succumb to the same fate as that other group blog.

The master plan

I'm surprised nobody else has figured out that this is actually part of the Grand Reverend of MuNuviana Pixy Misa's master plot to take over the Al Gore's interweb.

It would be much easier for him to wrangle control from the EU / UN, since their ineptness and willing to surrender is only eclipsed by the French.

If I turn up missing it's because I know too much...

Tip of the bowler to:Phoenix and Robbo

The scent of a woman...

I never knew there was a smell of silk, but I'm in the top ten when you google it.

Now if you're looking for the smell of Silk I'm not so sure of that either so you'd have to ask her; although I'd feel fairly safe venturing that's it is an angelic fragrance, to say the least.

What's a happenin' hot stuff

Today's question came to us from The Flirt Blog and it goes something like this: how do you tell if someone is single?

Being unsingle, or happily married as mrs. phin keeps telling me, means I don't really have to worry about whether or not somebody is single. However prior to meeting mrs. phin there was a need to try to determine whether a lady was single or "off the market" so to speak.

One method of spotting a single lady has always been to spot the pack¹ of single ladies at the local bar / pub / dance club. In college single ladies, "the target", much like single men, tend to roam the bar scene in packs. Often times the pack contains one or two ladies who are in a relationship, they act as the voice of reason for the single ladies ensuring they get home with their panties intact, they are / were "the enemy". Being able to differentiate between the "targets" and the "enemies" is essential and is the difference between leading a life of happiness and leading a life of celibacy.

There are the obvious signs when trying to spot the ladies that are off the market such as, but not limited to: a wedding or engagement ring on her finger, the rather large gentlemen she's draped over or the incessant yapping about her boyfriend.

The signs the ladies are "available" may be a bit more subtle. Since some people (myself included) are flirtatious, flirting in and of itself can't be considered a sign she'd like to get to "know" you better. Repetitive eye contact is often judged to be a sign that a lady is interested, of course it could be you're the ugliest sob she's ever seen, you look like her long lost sister who had an addadicktome, that you've got something stuck to your tooth (and not the tooth in your pocket) or maybe she'd like to chat with you a bit.

A couple of the methods I used, prior to meeting mrs. phin (note to self: you're happily married) were asking the "target" herself, asking one of the other ladies in the pack or asking the bartender, verbal communication is a wonderful thing and the worst that can happen is they say she's off the market.

If you're a tad bit on the shy side you may decide to take an indirect route and watch how she interacts with the guys around her. The major downside to this option is another gentleman is liable to sweep her off her feets befo' you gets a chance.

Sure I'm pushing the direct route, but you really don't want to be on the receiving end of a jealous husband wanting to shoot his wife's loofer. Nor do you want to spend hours upon hours pitching woo to a lady that isn't willing to receive said woo. As with most things in life it's all about communication, 'specially since assumptions make an ass out of you and me and we're both shunned for them.

In the case of mrs. phin I took and have taken a more active role in ensuring our marital bliss and ensuring everyone knows we're together. As has been well documented in the past women have a genetic deformity, an "evolutionary trait" if you will. This "trait" makes women think that we enjoy "the chase", thus they take great joy in playing "hard to get". Mrs. phin did indeed take this route when we were dating. When I "sealed the deal" otherwise known as convincing her to marry me I turned the tables on her. I've taken the approach of playing "hard to want", this often involves making an ass out of myself in public and having her call me a jackass. This method however provides her with the "project" of ensuring I'm not annoying single ladies or corrupting their boyfriends, thus enabling her to display she's a kept woman, see and y'all thought I was crazy.

Important Note #1: Do not refer to a group of ladies in a bar as a herd, as they often mistake this as your inference that they're heifers or sows and tend to get a bit pissy. Making mooing noises or hog calls as the crowd walks by is also a good way to have "the enemy's" husband / boyfriend attempt to inflict bodily harm uponst you.

For testoserone laden ramblings: Stiggy, Our Maximum Leader, Nugget, and Jamesy.
The effervescent estrogenized remarks of Silk, Kathy and Phoenix.

Sadie and Pammy were kind enough to offer a preview of next week's topic, action was of course planned to build anticipation and definately wasn't a scheduling snafu.

This would be a disclaimer

I received an e-mail the other day with a link to Herche's Blog disclaimer. Since I'm not a lawyer I got all scared and figured I'd best do like the e-mail said so the meanies won't be able to sue me. Except I wasn't too keen on some of the wording so I modified the contents to come up with the Phineous T. Goldfish disclaimer, which is remarkably like the Herche disclaimer, only cooler.

If'n you want to use the disclaimer you've gots to do is post this:
"We, the drunken or otherwise inebriated and misunderstood bloggers of the blogidohexiweb, in order to facilitate the promotion and transportation of disinformation, pudding wrestling, filthy lies, sarcasm, lingerie clad pillow fights, ensure the voices in our heads are obeyed, provide inaccurate news and opinionated opinions in the face of an increasingly accurate and unbiased media, and to poke fun at our culture's asinine obsession with Shep Smith's sexuality and Britney Spears chesticles, do abide by, adhere to and generally follow Phineous T. Goldfish’s Blogidohexiweb Disclaimer."

ARTICLE I: TERMS OF ACCEPTANCE

By accessing this website, a web browser's user is familiar with and accepts the following clauses.

ARTICLE 2: TERMS OF USE

Section 1

Santa's Clause 1: The views expressed and lies told by the "author(s)" on this blogithingamabob do not necessarily reflect the views of this blogithingamabob, the views of those who link to this blogithingamabob, the views of this blogithingamabob’s interweb hosting servicer, blogithingamabob layout designer, or any other organizers, servicers, picture drawer, insigniaer or avatarers in any way willing to be associated with and / or victimized by the "author(s)" of this site.

Santa's Clause 2: The views expressed by a "author(s)" on this site may or may not be the views of the "author(s)" as we're like to be repeating the talking points being telepathically transmitted by the Rethuglican party leadership, drunk, under the influence of other mind altering substances (all legal of course) or just telling lies we heard at the strip bar last night.

Santa's Clause 3: Comments and other lies uttered by the non-"author(s)" on this blogithingamabob are not the responsibility of their writers and the accuracy and completeness of comment content is not guaranteed; however any inaccuracies spotted and $5.00 (USD) will get you a cup of coffee at Starbucks (if the Pinko-Commie Coffee snobs at Starbucks haven't raised their prices).

Santa's Clause 4: All marks (trademarks, crayon marks, service marks, wall marks, collective marks, scuff marks, design rights, personality rights, copyrights or registered names) used or cited by this site are the property of their respective owners; until we steal them and claim them for our own. At which time possession is nine-tenths of the law.

Section 2

The Easter Bunny's Clause 1: This site does not offer legal, medical, psychiatric, veterinary or any other kind of professional advice. Nothing on this site should be construed as professional advice. However if you find the articles, posts or comments on this site beneficial the "author(s)" should receive ample compensation in the form of nonsequential unmarked bills or "services rendered" by ladies of the evening.

The Easter Bunny's Clause 2: The information provided herein is of a general nature, except where the "author(s)" are specific and shouldn't be substituted for the advice of a licensed professional unless the "author(s)" claim to be a licensed professional in which case they're lying. A competent authority with specialized knowledge, magic tea leaves, the blood of a virgin chicken and a case of potted meat is the only one who can apply the general information on this site to the circumstances of your case.

The Easter Bunny's Clause 3: Please contact your local bar, strip club owner, neighborhood watch association, witch doctor, voo-doo princes, Llama Orgeler or local pimp in your psyciatric ward to obtain a referral to a "competent" professional if you do not have other means of contacting a "lady of the evening".

ARTICLE 3: LINK POLICY

Buddha's Clause 1: This site has no control over the information you access via inward or outward bound link in the post text, sidebar, header, footer or comment sections. Sure we visit the sites or we wouldn't link to them, just don't hold us accountable for their actions, unless they've done something good or earned lots of money; then we expect our portion of the proceeds and gratuitous pictures of dancing midgets.

Buddha's Clause 2: This site does not endorse linked site(s), cannot guarantee the accuracy of any information found on linked sites or the correctness of any analysis found therein and should not be held responsible for it or the consequences of a user's use of that information. However should the user be an attractive female of legal age and inspired by said information to post pictures of her breasteses on the interweb a "Hey look at my tee-taa's (o) (o)" link would be greatly appreciated.

Buddha's Clause 3: This site may advertently and intentionally link to content that is obscene, prurient, useless or pornographic. This site and it's "author(s)" in any way possible condone, endorse and take responsibility for such content and if you find a great site and want to share it, that would be greatly appreciated.

ARTICLE 4: PUBLICATION

Section 1

Chanukah Harry's Clause 1: Publication of information found on this site may be in violation of the laws of the country or jurisdiction from where you are viewing this site’s content. If so you're breaking the law and don't blame us when some pinko-commie with poofy hair makes you his "love slave". Graphic tales of your sordid affairs with said poofy pinko-commie shouldn't be repeated, unless you're a nubile young lady of legal age and willing to provide pictures, minus said poofy haired pinko-commie.

Chanukah Harry's Clause 2: This site publishes "content" and is maintained in reference to the protections afforded it under local, state, provincial, international and federal law; anyone breaking said laws will be sent to bed without pudding and / or spankings.

Chanukah Harry's Clause 3: Laws in your jurisdiction may not protect or allow the same kinds of speech or nudie pictures. If so that really sucks, I'd consider moving from Kalifonia to Canada, they're just as liberal, plus they say eh, a lot, eh, which can be kind of cool, eh.

Chanukah Harry's Clause 4: This site does not encourage, condone, facilitate or protect the violation of any laws and cannot be responsible for any violations of such laws. However if you're going to break these laws please give us ample warning so we can call crime-stoppers and makes some mad cash; plus we want to watch you receive the beat down from "the man".

If you agree with the above ramblings and want to protect yourself, your pet hampster (don't tell us if he's wrapped in electrical tape and please don't send pictures) and your blog, as well as draw attention to Amerika's lack of entertainment involving pudding, feel free to post this disclaimer and rid yourself of pesky erectile dysfunction issues. Then check yourself into the nearest mental hospital, unless you're a hot rich young lady who wouldn't mind moving to the Netherlands and being part of a harem, in which case send naught photos (the more usage of pudding the better) and a bank statement.

If for any reason you decide against our better judgment to link to this disclaimer and you're unable to send a trackback, send me an email and I will provide a reciprocal link and possibly detail on how much fun can be had with a garden hose and a kiddie pool filled with chocolate pudding.

Most importanly of all though, Froggie says to remember to have a nice day.

I checked the mail today

and even though I was a tad bit disappointed that I didn't receive notification that I'd the publishers clearing house sweepstakes, I did get the next best thing.

My Official Well Hung T-Shirt.

Perhaps you too should rush over and purchase goods from the from the Villainous Commerce Site. Then maybe you'll be well dressed as well.

Maybe the LLamas are finally gonna get a t-shirt or two going as well. My vote's for the photo below, Robbo really did make a lovely bride.

All or nothing

I've recently been called lots of things recently regarding my spreading of the gospel according to me.

Accusations of heresy have been made.
Other people are claiming we're Barbeque light weights.

My reply: It's all or nothing.

The following pictures may be a tad bit offensive, however some folks need to see them, as without visual cues they may stumble through life unenlightened.

Each of the following pictures may be enlarged with a clickity of the mouse.

In other words, you've got to go whole hog or go home.

repent while there's time

Seems there's been a whole lot of sinning goin' on lately!
Y'all best repent.

Or at least get a cool theme song, like drivin n' cryin's - I'm going straight to hell.

Weekend round up...

Since I'm only worth about one post a weekend I decided to cross post the drivel I worked up for a guest post Confederate Yankee whilst he's out of town.

There's been a lot of hullabaloo made regarding the comments made by President Regan's education secretary. The Maximum Leader of Naked Villainy puts the comment Bennet made into context. I'm still trying to figure out why the White House made a statement and why many liberals don't feel the Bush has done enough to admonish Bennet. After all the current administration had as much to do with the appointment of Bennet as Clinton did and nobody's demanding they condemn his statements.

The Brady Bunch has also been getting quite a bit of media attention and discussion in the blogidohexitagon. One of their advertisements is warning European travelers that with the new law passed in Florida they could be shot due to upsetting someone while driving their car (road rage). If somebody in Florida legally uses deadly force you shouldn't have been driving through their yard in the first place. I guess leaving the part about being on your property makes the argument a bit more interesting.

There has been quite a bit of discussion on many blogs I regularly read regarding Intelligent Design(ID). I haven't weighed in on the topic. Proponents of ID say it's as valid as evolution and opponents say it's a back door method of teaching religion. Both sides point to the lack of scientific proof of the other's theory. With all the arguing back and forth I'm starting to think it really was the Flying Spaghetti Monster, anybody else want to be a Pastafarian?

Come on you can tell me, it'll be our little seekrit.