The Feast of Human Blood

The Wife did about 5 hours of yard work, proving that she not only wears the pants, but she also slays dragons.We have decided to grill out, for some stupid reason. I suggested it, rather stupidly. Not sure why. The process has invited a Mormon-sized family of spiders to defend the charcoal bag as their home, and apparently summoned reinforcements from the uncleaned, recently rained-in gutters to buzz about me, taking turns trying to suck my vegetarian blood and give me the West Nile Virus.

Beginning to think this may have been a bad idea. I have a picture of my bite-bloated hand from the last time I was outdoors longer than the time it takes to flee like a little girl, arms flailing behind me like a poorly drawn cartoon, to my car before and after work. Allow me to share it with you.

I know it doesn't look as bad as you might imagine, but keep in mind, they like to go for the thin-skin areas where there's minimal room for swelling. For example: my knuckles. I was unable to use my hand all day that day, and some of the next. That was Wednesday. It is now Sunday, and my hand is still a little swollen.

tl;dr- I hate nature, and it can go screw itsel-WAIT! NO! It'll just breed more bugs to terrorize me.
Do me a favor, peers, and pollute as much as you can, because it will reduce the number of insects. Who cares if the human species dies off as a consequence- at least we'll have won the war.


Update: I decided to abandon the grill to the elements, choosing instead to cook my tofu and The Wife's chicken on the stove.

GUESS WHO STUCK THEIR FINGERS ON A HOT STOVE PANEL!

Oh Mah Guurrd!

I have finally accumulated about 40 blog views as of this posting, with 5 views today. I'm so excited, I could... well, I can't shit, I did that already. Sorry... TMI, I know, I know. I could get up and do a little dance, if I didn't feel like my bones were put together by a dyslexic five year old with difficulty recognizing spacial relationships to boot.
I'll settle for a smug smile that, one day... I might have 45 views.


Actually, most of those views are probably mine.

Shit.

It's Called CGI, Dipshitticus

I came across this ad while on Bookface a few times... and it just sorta makes me wonder what drugs people are on, sometimes. Like, "Hey, you! Yeah, you like free malware, right? Come on over!"

Also, it is interesting to note that "malware" isn't a word, according to Firefox. Instead, it recommends "Waldemar". The feck is that?

Google is Retarded

Google is fucking retarded- NO! I don't want to hear it; I know that it's politically incorrect, but Google really is fucking retarded.
I typed in "music from timesplitters," since the video game Timesplitters has music the likes of which one might search for. The feature that automatically tells you "I got this" and provides you with popular seaches stopped me at "music from timespl" because it had filled it out below my text. I pressed the Down key, then the Enter key.

It brought me to "music from hard times." Um, okay, must have been a glitch. I clicked the Back button, and re-entered my text in full, then pressed Enter. The page I saw confused the shit out of me (literally; I needed to go void my bowels after this). The page was "music from fast times at ridgemont."
What the flipping flapjacks is this shit? Google, give me what I asked for, or I'm going back to Yahoo, you butt-turd.

E Pluribus Anum

I have come to the realization that my entire life has been a serious of mind-wreckingly funny one-liners that would not be funny in the least if said without context, and the explanation required to create context would suck the humor out of each phrase like a giant mosquito with the last living mammal on the planet.

At any rate... I was supposed to have a class, Composition 102 tonight, but it seems I may have been thrown from a moving vehicle while I wasn't paying attention, because my neck and back have got to be broken in multiple places. Oh wait. Must be the fibro' playing tricks on me.

Whatever... anyhow, I'm going to go take some muscle relaxers, have some dinner, and try to write a paper while I have limp-noodle limbs and food-coma. Should make for interesting reading for my professor, at least.