She could be earnin’ her man and learnin’ her man… and at the same time turn in her man: Snoop Dogg sued for assault.

Personally, I think he was just set off after not being able to figure out when to add the fabric softener.

We finally got our wedding pictures today. The wife was looking through them. Choice quote of the night:

“Here’s the one of the utility candle.”

She meant “unity candle”, but the more I think about it, the more “utility” seems apropos.

So Gary, a US citizen living in Poland, over at matching tracksuits notes that he, like most people living outside the US, cannot access Chimpy McFlightsuit’s website. He muses,

There is just no logical reason for this blockage. If Bush’s team can’t “defend” his web site, what makes people think Bush and his gang can defend the country? Setting up a firewall is a lot easier than keeping out terrorists, I would imagine.

It was Darshu on #dailykos, however, who got the best quip of the day:
“are you saying that georgewbush.com forgot poland?”

http://youforgotpoland.com

I came up with a good bumpersticker today.

IN CASE OF RAPTURE Your car and all your toys belong to me.

Alternately, here’s an image you can use.

Got to talking with a friend of mine regarding the ups and downs that “instant replay” has seen in the NFL over the years. This year is the most confusing yet, with something like a team getting a third challenge for free, if they get the first two overturned, and Saturn is on the cusp of Leo, etc., etc… it’s all just way too confusing… so I came up with some alternates.

1. When a play is challenged, the TV puts up a 1-900 number on the screen, where fans call in and vote. Of course, they will be charged $2.99/minute for this.

2. Alternately, maybe they could tie the replay to a skill question, like in a Canadian sweepstakes. Perhaps it would add a bit of a cerebral aura to the game. I can see it now…

“Well, we made our decision, and yes, we will overrule the call on the field, but in order to get the ruling, you will be required to answer this arithmetic problem…”

CNN/AP: “Bush shrugs off a crash”

Bush offered a glimpse of his new pastime to an Associated Press reporter Monday, roaming the dirt roads and far-flung pastures of his 1,600-acre ranch. About halfway through, he sailed over the handlebars during a dangerous descent, but dusted himself off, picked up his $3,100 bicycle and kept riding.

For three grand, you’d think that bike would have gyro-stabilisers or something.

Maybe for an extra $15 or so, though, perhaps this minor addition would help

lisa says to you, "dude, i need the link to your actual, active blog"
lisa says, "my bookmark file died, and your old LJ blog doesn't show it anymore"

Funny thing about bookmark files. You accumulate a lot of cruft there that you never look at again, yet you never realise how much you’ve stored there until you lose it.

“Browser Bookmark Blues”
(apologies to Don McLean and “American Pie”)

A long, long time ago
I can still remember
How the pages used to make me smile
And I knew if I took the hint
That I should make those pages print
And maybe they’d be safe, then, for a while
But browser crashes made me shiver
with every webpage it’d deliver
Bad news on the page load
It wouldn’t take one more goad
No, I can’t remember being brash
When I saw the blue screen crash
But something made my bookmarks trash
The day the browser died.
So…

Chorus:
Bye-bye “Miss America” site,
“Driving Chevys”, “Jacques Levy”, “Feel Like Chicken Tonight”
“Da Geto Boys”, Inky Blinky and Clyde,
Browser, this would be the day that you died

Did you see the “Hamsterdance”
And did you have it linked, perchance
If the shortcut showed you how?
Now do you believe you saved the site?
Can you retrieve this page just right
And would you send the URL to me now?
Well, I knew that you’re in love with “Jack””
’cause I had it bookmarked, “Hotmail hack”
But now my links are gone,
Man, I miss that anime pr0n…
I was a lonely surfer browsin’ news
Reading soundbytes from the Reuters news
But I’m screwed now, yeah, I have the blues
The day the browser died
I’ve started singing….

(chorus)

Now, for five days I’ve been on my own
Can’t find that site for the Rolling Stones
But that’s not how it used to be
When it used to link emulations sites
Yes, it kept track of the hockey fights.
And it showed me where to catch my flights.
Oh, and now that things are looking down,
I can not wipe away this frown
The bookmark list adjourned.
All my “eBay cheats” are burned.
Oh my message board links, they are gone
Along with helpful tips for a greener lawn
And the flash version of 3D Pong
The day the browser died
And I am singing…

(chorus)

“Helter Skelter” in my ‘OLGA’ folder
As the ashes of my bookmarks smoulder
All my ways to procrastinate…
And a “Starbucks” latte coffee pass
Yes it’s hoax that failed, alas, alas.
I’ve been looking in vain but now it’s getting late.
Now the Half-Life link is M.I.A.
The “Pulp Fiction soundboard” went away.
I never got to play
The role of Shoutcast indie DJ.
‘Cause my browser went and bit the dust
Seemed my cookies caused the thing to bust
Is there anything left that I can trust
Now that my browser died?
I still am singing…

(chorus)

Oh, and they were all there sitting in one place
…the fanboy page for “Lost in Space“…
I’ve got to go and start my list again
So come on people, send me links
To the “Space Quest” page of hints and tricks.
While my bookmark file is on the mend…
I watched the meltdown take effect.
Goodbye to “Star Trek”, “BattleMech”
No action could help quell,
Could break this cold death knell.
And as the numbers climbed high, out of sight
I lost that sweet MP3 site
My friends were laughing with delight
The day the browser died.
And still I’m singing…

(chorus)

I met a girl on ICQ
And I asked her for some things to do
But she just logged off, and refused my text
I went down to the Yahoo! store
Where I’d seen the discounts days before
But without my bookmarks I was truly vexed,
And in misery, I lost my mind
The cursing flew, I went half-blind
But no scrap was recovered
The bookmarks were all smothered.
And the three sites I admire most:
Google, Slashdot, and Space Ghost
They’re all that’s left, my browser’s toast
Today, my browser’s fried,
I can’t stop singing…

(chorus)

Another SCO Group parody, to complement Lady Caldera. This is, if it’s not obvious, a parody of “Another Brick in the Wall Part 2″

I actually wrote this a while back (9-Dec), but I wanted to keep a copy of it before it was too hard to find on Slashdot.

(With apologies to Pink Floyd)

We don’t need no litigation
We don’t need no spin control
No Darl McBride praise in the chatroom
Pumpers, leave this stock alone!
Hey! Pumpers! Leave this stock alone!
All in all it’s just another turd in the stall
All in all you’re just another turd in the stall

We don’t need no litigation
We don’t need no spin control
No Darl McBride praise in the chatroom
Pumpers, leave this stock alone!
Hey! Pumpers! Leave this stock alone!
All in all it’s just another turd in the stall
All in all you’re just another turd in the stall

“Wrong! Dump it again!”
“If you can’t beat the street, how can you have any earnings…
How can you have any earnings, if you can’t beat the street?”
“You! Yes, you behind the bodyguards, stand still laddy!”

Click for large version

Gibb me some o’ dat: St. Joe is returning to the Washington Redskins.

I heard inklings of this last night, but the CBS link above has a little more meat to it.

I also have very little doubt that Mr. Crabbypants Daniel Snyder is offering Gibbs a more-than-reasonable compensation to make up for the fact that Gibbs will have to give up his minority share in the Falcons.

Some may look at this as a desparate move by a desparate owner (Snyder), but I think that while it’s fantastic news, it’s also a very shrewd strategic move. More than a couple Redskins defensive players had already announced earlier in the year that they would leave the team if the Skins got a new D coordinator.

Well, according to CBS, the Skins will get a new defensive coordinator, former Bills HC Gregg Williams… but like hell any of those guys will leave now, not when the opportunity to play under this legend is sitting there right in front of them!

GO SKINS!

(Click for larger version)

(to the tune of the Beatles’ “Lady Madonna”)

Lady Caldera, stock price at your feet.
Wonder how you’ll manage to make ends meet.
Who has the money? How you pay the rent?
Did you think that UNIX trademark was heaven sent?

Wednesday morning news just like a bombshell.
We all watch their stock drop like a rock.
Caldera has learned kiss its arsecheeks goodbye.
See how they run.

Lady Caldera, IP fakes confess!
Wonder how you’ll manage to keep up this jest.

See how they run.
Lady Caldera, lying in the press,
Blackmailing the righteous ones, in your duress.

Wednesday afternoon is never ending.
Thursday morning news will be as bad.
Thursday night your stocks, they will need mending.
See how they run.

Lady Caldera, stock price at your feet.
Wonder how you’ll manage to make ends meet.

Per request…for spampy – an image for the movie Gulf Fiction, slated to come out this winter.

I may continue to work on this, if I get any creative ideas.

(with apologies to Bob Dylan)

Talkin’ John Ashcroft Paranoid Blues

Well, I was feelin’ sad and feelin’ blue,
I didn’t know what in the world I was gonna do,
Them terrorists they was comin’ around,
They was in the air,
They was on the ground.
They wouldn’t gimme no peace. . .

So I run down most hurriedly
And joined up with the Tom Ridge Society,
I got me a Citizen Corps membership card
And started off a-walkin’ down the road.
Yee-hoo, I’m a real Op:TIPSter now!
Look out you Arabs!

Well, I was lookin’ everywhere for them gol-darned Rags.
I got up in the mornin’ ‘n’ looked in my bags,
Looked in the sink, behind the door,
Looked in the glove compartment of my car.
Couldn’t find ‘em . . .

I wus lookin’ high an’ low for them Rags everywhere,
I wus lookin’ in the sink an’ underneath the chair.
I looked way up my chimney hole,
I even looked deep inside my toilet bowl.
They got away . . .

Well, I wus sittin’ home alone an’ started to sweat,
Figured they was in my T.V. set.
Peeked behind the picture frame,
Got a shock from my feet, hittin’ right up in the brain.
Them Rags caused it!
I know they did . . . them hard-core fundamentalist ones.

Well, I quit my job so I could work alone,
Then I changed my name to Sherlock Holmes.
Remembered a clue I’d almost forgotten:
The ‘merican flag is made of cotton!
That ol’ Betty Ross . . .

Well, I search all the books on the library shelves
Cuz you can’t trust it as done by anyone else
I found some characters I didn’t understand.
Knew right away it had to be the Koran
I just hope no one saw me searchin’

Wouldn’t want them to think I was a terrorist lurchin’

Now Leiberman, he’s a Middle East spy,
Al Gore, Gephardt and them Democrat guys.
To my knowledge there’s just one man
That’s really a true American: Attorney General John Ashcroft.
I know for a fact he hates Arabs cus he’s born and raised in the midwest!

Well, I fin’ly started thinkin’ straight
When I run outta things to investigate.
Couldn’t imagine doin’ anything else,
So now I’m sittin’ home investigatin’ myself!
Hope I don’t find out anything . . . hmm, great God!

(Not to be confused with my first fit of creativity)

Says George W. Bush, “I meant what I said to the prime minister of Israel. I expect there to be a withdrawal without delay.”

So George W. is really reiterating that Israel back the hell off of Arafat and friends. I dunno, I just keep imagining the scene from Pulp Fiction, when Butch and Marcellus end up in the Mason-Dixie pawnshop, except this time, it’s Israel who has the Palestinians pinned to the floor, beating the crap out of ‘em.

---

Israel: So you like terrorizing people, huh? Well guess what, big man, you’ve terrorized me –United States: [Wielding a pump-action shotgun, aimed at them]

– hold it right there, godammit!

Israel: Look mister, this ain’t any of your business –

United States: — I’m makin’ it my business! Now toss that gun!

Israel: You don’t understand, man –

United States: No, you don’t understand, drop the gun and let the Arab go!

---

Garden Grove (Redux)

With apologies to Sublime

We took this trip to Garden Grove
Shoulda stayed inside the van, oh yeah

This ain’t just cyber-cafe violence,
Duke Nukem at the door,
It gets so real sometimes, who cut my line?
I’ve got the TCP, got the DSL,
I’ve got the gamepad, and a highway to hell, oh yeah

If you only knew all the fraggin’ I find,
It’s hard to keep my life o-offline

You’re a fool, don’t mess with my avatar
All I can see I can kill
I fill up my hard drive, cuz in my mind
Fraggin’ from the cafe, all the rage that I found
It’s hard to keep my hate underground,

It’s you, it’s that Half-Life under my shoe,
It’s the email covered with spam,
It’s that crazy new game jam,
Lots of traffic on the LAN,
Getting blisters on my hand,
Watching Quake thugs having to stand,
Getting up to take a crap
Never stop to take a nap
Getting stabbed with no delay
Starting fistfights every day
Leavin’, I always have a tail
Spending the night in a jail
Livin’ in my parents’ pad
Getting really, really mad
Sayin’ yer laggin’ when you’re not
Finding ways to slip the cops

Oooohhh…
All these thoughts, they fail
When I’m waiting for bail…

[I came up with this last night. Apologies to Quentin Tarantino]

SCENE: DUBYA and COLIN POWELL DRIVING DOWN THE STREET

“…you know what they call a B2 Bomber in Iraq?”
“They don’t call it a B2 Bomber?”
“Naw, man, they don’t use the Roman alphabet, they wouldn’t know what the fuck a ‘B’ or a ’2′ is”
“What do they call it?”

“Ji-had buster.”
“ji-had buster! What do they call a Tomahawk missile?”
“Tomahawk’s a Tomahawk, but they call it an ‘Imperialist Tomahawk’”
“What do they call a Patriot missile?”
“I dunno, I didn’t go to Israel.”