Mundane Murmurs

Talk about the boring and ordinary world that is my life.

Thursday, September 30, 2004

A little note - while working

Today I am putting up a post from work. A forbidden practice if you ask my opinion. But my boss is on holidays, and while I do have follow up work to do (and the odd submission (deal, loan – whatever you want to call it). My main job for the week he is away is to verify the data of our customers that has transferred into a new system that we have just implemented (YAWN!!).

But that being said, that is what I have been doing but it takes a lot longer than I originally thought it would. But I am battling on, I just now have to make sure I have it completed by Tuesday (Monday is a public holiday – Labour Day – hooray).

My mother has also threatened to come and visit over the long weekend – she is a school teacher and she is on holidays (again). She informed me the other day that she has to work 201 days a year, and I have often heard her spout how she can’t wait until the next holidays (this is usually within a few weeks of returning to teaching maybe a week or so after she has gone back after a holiday break).

Anyhow as I am at work, I must kick on. And as I am now starting to feel guilty this will only be quick.

Saturday, September 25, 2004

Next please

Has anyone ever clicked on the next blog button? You know, up there on the right (ok picture me pointing to the top right hand side of the page where the ‘next blog’ button is). Well I haven’t, until last night that is. I thought I might scope the sitch and see if it was worth my while.

Was it? you ask, um, no not particularly... Nine out of ten blogs I came across were not actually in English (my preferred language – and to be honest the only one I know). A few of these in some crazy symbol language. The very few actual English ones (or those written in the English language, one was some form of protest site, the other a I love God site – now don’t get me wrong both of these I am sure are noble causes but just not really my cup of tea (if you get my meaning). So while the concept of the next blog, I do believe, is good. My personal experience has tended to be crap.

Needless to say, I will stay locked away in this known little cyber community, visiting around and saying hi for a little while longer (probably much longer actually) until the scars have healed from this journey into the unknown.

But please do feel free to try it, after all gambling is fun (until you loose all your money and make the mistake of telling the taxi driver you lost all you cash and he kicks you to the curb and you have to walk the last 10 miles home in the middle of the night – ok this didn’t really happen, but would have if I had not found the hidden emergency $20 – taxi drivers in Vegas (yes Los Vegas kids the most awesome place on the planet) have no sense of humour.

Four days in a row now Pup, oh my god, this is becoming a habit (have I lulled you into a false sense of security yet? No? I will, oh I will. Oh almost forgot, Happy Birthday to you….).

Friday, September 24, 2004

A few funnies

Ok I am posting something funny today, I don't want to write at the moment and I came across this - it's a very old email. Enjoy.

40 Things you would love to say out loud at work

1. I can see your point, but I still think you're full of shit.

2. I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to pronounce.

3. How about never? Is never good for you?

4. I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public.

5. I'm really easy to get along with once you people learn to see it my way.

6. I'll try being nicer if you'll try being smarter.

7. I'm out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message.

8. I don't work here. I'm a consultant.

9. It sounds like English, but I can't understand a damn word you're saying.

10. Ahhh...I see the screw-up fairy has visited us again...

11. I like you. You remind me of myself when I was young and stupid.

12. You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers.

13. I have plenty of talent and vision; I just don't give a damn.

14. I'm already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth.

15. I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you.

16. Thank you. We're all refreshed and challenged by your unique point of view.

17. The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an artist.

18. Any connection between your reality and mine is purely coincidental.

19. What am I? Flypaper for freaks!?

20. I'm not being rude. You're just insignificant.

21. It's a thankless job, but I've got a lot of Karma to burn off.

22. Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial.

23. And your crybaby whiny-assed opinion would be...?

24. Do I look like a people person?

25. This isn't an office. It's Hell with fluorescent lighting.

26. I started out with nothing & still have most of it left.

27. Sarcasm is just one more service we offer.

28. If I throw a stick, will you leave?

29. Errors have been made. Others will be blamed.

30. Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed.

31. I'm trying to imagine you with a personality.

32. A cubicle is just a padded cell without a door.

33. Can I trade this job for what's behind door #1?

34. Too many freaks, not enough circuses.

35. Nice perfume. Must you marinate in it?

36. Chaos, panic, & disorder-my work here is done.

37. How do I set a laser printer to stun?

38. I thought I wanted a career; turns out I just wanted a salary.

39. Who lit the fuse on your tampon?

40. Oh I get it... like humor... but different.

I just reread it and it's not as funny as I thought, but still I have posted it so it will stay. But here is one of my favourite jokes.

A guy out on the golf course takes a high speed ball right in the crotch. Writhing in agony, he falls to the ground. When he finally gets himself to the doctor, he says," How bad is it doc? I'm going on my honeymoon next week and my fiancée is still a virgin in every way."

The doc said, "I'll have to put your penis in a splint to let it heal and keep it straight. It should be okay next week." So he took four tongue depressors and formed a neat little four-sided bandage, and wired it all together; an impressive work of art.

The guy mentions none of this to his girl, marries, and on his honeymoon night in the motel room, she rips open her blouse to reveal a gorgeous set of breasts. This was the first time he had seen them. She says, "You'll be the first, no one has ever touched these breasts."

He whips down his pants and says, "Look at this - it's still in the CRATE!"

And just one more for fun...

Email to wrong wife.

This is voted as the best e-mail joke in Australia in 2001.

After being nearly snowbound for two weeks last winter, a Seattle man departed for his vacation in Miami Beach, where he was to meet his wife the next day at the conclusion of her business trip to Minneapolis. They were looking forward to pleasant weather and a nice time together.

Unfortunately, there was some sort of mix up at the boarding gate, and the man was told he would have to wait for a later flight. He tried to appeal to a supervisor but was told the airline was not responsible for the problem and it would do no good to complain.

Upon arrival at the hotel the next day, he discovered that Miami Beach was having a heat wave, and its weather was almost as uncomfortably hot as Seattle's was cold. The desk clerk gave him a message that his wife would arrive as planned. He could hardly wait to get to the pool area to cool off, and quickly sent his wife an e-mail, but due to his haste, he made an error in the e-mail address. His message therefore arrived at the home of an elderly preacher's wife whose even older husband had died only the day before.

When the grieving widow opened her e-mail, she took one look at the monitor, let out an anguished scream, and fell to the floor dead. Her family rushed to her room where they saw this message on the screen:

Dearest wife,
Departed yesterday as you know. Just now got checked in. Some confusion at the gate. Appeal was denied.
Received confirmation of your arrival tomorrow.
Your loving husband.
P.S. Things are not as we thought. You're going to be surprised at how hot it is down here.......

Thursday, September 23, 2004

My dog, aren’t you tired?

Well today I am going to tell a dogly tale, it’ll be short unless I can bulk it up about Max and our new neighbour dog (well I would say we are his new neighbours) but I digress, now the dog (met the owner, forgot to ask the dogs name) next door and Max the first day of meeting ran the length of the fence all day (up and down – the fence isn’t the great wall of China after all) – now this is not a sweeping ‘all day’ this is a literal all day, my god I got tired just watching them and the hideous next door dog is a barker – he is an Alsation (German Shepherd for those of you who don’t know what an Alsation is) so he has a super loud, deep, hurt your ears, bark and I was getting pissed after a few hours of listening to it without relief.

Every time I walked outside I got barked at and Max had done more exercise in that one day than I think he has in his entire life. This hideousness barks at every fathomable noise you could imagine, I think I heard an earthworm digging its way through to soil, or I would have if the neighbour’s dog wasn’t barking at the noise it was making as it dug. But I am glad to say now it is day 7 he doesn’t bark at me anymore but boy, it has only just stopped and he still barks when he hears me drive in. Just as well he has stopped because I didn’t want to have to do anything against my nature to him, but oh boy a constant barker is not a good thing.

Another dogly thing (which is quite horrible, yet amuses me so) is the Maxis and his inane inability to comfortably ascend (or descend) a flight of stairs. Now to give him a little grace these are outside stairs made from a piece of wood (like slats) and not fully enclosed, so I suppose at his height he can see himself plummeting the whole meter or so to his death and as he has never had any stair experience must be quite a trial for him. The reason I have observed this is the first couple of days I could not get him to come up the stairs, this is where his food bowl and water is so he did endeavour to climb the 4 steps to be able to have his food and water but when I actually saw him do it I laughed at loud (yes the horrible nasty streak I warned you about). He climbed said steps with a painful slowness and he was physically shaking (and by the way even though his speed has considerably improved, the shaking remains, mostly for the down journey he is ok in the up now).

It actually never occurred to me that he would have a problem after all who can’t walk a flight of steps? But as I mentioned I don’t think this it is so much the actual steps but the gaps between that scare the bejesus out of him. Not a lot I can do for him unfortunately, but in time he will become a champ at the stairs I am sure. To get me back for laughing he peed on the hose that I was filling the pool with so I had to wash the pee off the hose, naughty, naughty boy!!

Oh but one saving grace, someone today left the gate open (to the back yard) and when I came home Max came rushing up to say hi. All I can say is I am glad he is whipped and not an adventuresome dog, or I would have lost him and perhaps had to get him back from the pound (a costly exercise from past experience with my previous dog) or worse. But all is well he is back in the back yard after me telling him he was naughty and he should not run off even if the gate is open, I think we now have an understanding.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

A new beginning (well on the home front anyhow).

So the new house is nice but I am still in the hideous “unpacking” stage of moving, which almost takes away the fun (if you can forget the actual move) of moving.

It is however painted baby blue inside – something the owners are doing their best to rectify, this is more than fine by me. So what else to tell you? Well the house is bigger, the pool is bigger (and yes still salt) and the yard is bigger (oh and the rent is cheaper) I think the area is not quite as good, but is still pretty good and the place is quite a bit older but still very nice. I don’t have any complaints and it is even closer to town, walking distance (if you consider around half an hour to be walking distance, yeah, well maybe not – ha ha ha).

Well I have had to claim all my expenses on my own insurance, I approached the council, who while accepted responsibility for the blocked pipe would not accept liability for any damage as the man I spoke to advised me that the plumbing in the house was illegal and therefore it was the owners responsibility to pay for my expenses. I had already tried this tact and got a big fat nowhere so I called a lawyer for a little advice. I did a bit of sucking up and I had spoken to this firm through work many times and I got someone to help me over the phone. Generally to cut a long convo short, he advised me to try my own insurance, he said even though I was in the right the amount of angst this would cause (suing the landlord) it really wasn’t worth the hassle, he also said that the case would probably get drawn out quite a bit and I would also run the risk of not getting what I was actually asking for. Even though in reading this sounds kinda negative he was very helpful and so I did as he suggested.

I called my insurance company who will actually cover everything, my removal, my temporary accommodation (wish I had the policy to read and knew this before I moved as they will pay for this up to 12 months) and also cover any of the damaged goods (which before I rang was all I thought I would be covered for). So I love my insurance company and they can still rip me off – oh umm yep sorry - take their premiums from me annually for some time to come, I would suggest.

So all in all I haven’t come out too badly, granted I didn’t want any of this to happen but since the owners of the old place were looking at selling the place anyhow, I had an inkling that I would have been asked to move when my lease expired in November anyhow, so maybe all this crap (oh yes I see the pun, as always) was not in vain.

Sunday, September 19, 2004

Oh, shit….

I have been gone too long, but I don’t think the journey is done quite yet. I will give you an update as I fear I may have lost everyone while I was away.

Starting Tuesday (as this is when it happened) I was off work sick (nothing serious or of any great importance) but all I can say is I am glad (in a way) that I was. Why I hear you ask, are you ready for the tale? Let me begin.

Once again on Tuesday, I was home sick asleep in my bed. I woke up to an unusual – what the hell is that smell? So I got up and the most disgusting thing you had ever seen was escaping the ensuite (the bathroom attached to the bedroom). Now for a bit of clarity, in Oz we have drain (overflow I believe they are called) in the middle of every room (with the exception of the toilet and the kitchen) that has any kind of water facet.

Now on this particular day, I did hear a strange gurgling sound and I turned and went back to sleep (a mistake I soon found out). Now to tell what happened. Raw sewage (black water, not grey) had come up through all the drains in my house, in effect flooding it. It was in the ensuite and had come out onto the carpet in the master bedroom, it had come up through the laundry, which was next to the kitchen and had come out the doorway into the kitchen and finally it had come up through the bathroom and all down the hall into all 3 bedroom doorways and all around the edges of the dining room. Yummy!!

Now for a quick visual it looked like grey water with brown (umm yes imagine this to be whatever you wish) I would say chunks but they were small and broken up, more like a sludge really, floating on the top of the water. And oh my god, the stench.

So this happened about 4pm. It took me a nanosecond to get on the phone to the real estate, I got the stupid dozy chick who pissed me around about the pool (great!!) but when I explained the situation (perhaps a little too firmly) she said she would get a plumber to come around straight away (a little too late perhaps) and call me back to let me know who, blah, blah. So I let her go, fingers crossed it wont take 3 months to get him out (ummm). But within maybe 10 minutes I had a call back – but this time by the property manager, who said that the plumber was on his way (and should be there very soon) and she was also coming to have a look (with a camera (YAY!!! Poopy shots, incidentally I do not have any copies and did not take any for you - sorry)).

So anyhow the plumber arrives, does the much to be heard over the next few days “Oh, shit” (giggle), yes the puns on this – oh the hilarity (not). Well anyhow he went down in the back yard and tried to plunge the drain, but to no avail. He then called the council and said that they should look down the manhole in their pipes because this should not have happened (Really? And here I’m thinking this is a regular occurrence throughout the homes in town).

So the council comes out – climbs down stinky manhole and I never see them again (mostly because at 8pm I went to a motel – not that they disappeared into the twilight zone) and they had yet to re-emerge. The property manager also came, gagged while taking photos and then stood outside for the further hour or so she was around. She also arranged a cleaner (by this time it was 7ish – and almost everyone had packed up and gone for the day).

The cleaner came armed with some seriously thick industrial strength rubber gloves, a face mask (not of the Michael Jackson kind but more of the toxic fumes/gas mask kind) and a Stanley knife and oh my god he went to town on the carpet cutting it to shreds (under the guise of lifting it up to see how far the sewage had gotten).

I was told by him that as this is raw sewage the house is now a health hazard and I cannot live there, henceforth (ok he didn’t use that word but I like it and he used many more words to say the same thing), pretty much a get your clothes and get out scenario. I was asked if I had anywhere to go (sob, sob, I didn’t) so he suggested a few motels and I called and checked in. I questioned about paying for this (I do not want to be footing the very unnecessary bill for all of this). And was assured it would be covered by insurance, who’s? Fingers crossed someone else’s (oh I have insurance but none of this is my doing). Yes well, we’ll see. So off I went.

To make a very long story short. I spent the next two nights in a motel on day two I was told the house will take over a month to fix/clean, whatever. And it would be best if I moved to a new place, permanently – WTF!?!? So to condense even further by day two I had found a new place and day three I moved. The fuckers wont pay for my removal and looks as though I have to go back to the council and get them to pay, as they are the ones at fault(oh I never did say what happened). A tree root had grown through the council pipe blocking it and causing the back flow – yes it was also a council tree (this makes a difference apparently - if someone else's tree, too bad for me).

So I have to write a full account and send it off, itemise the damage, blah, blah, oh and of course enclose a copy of the rank photos.

So this is what I have been doing since Tuesday. I hope if anyone still reads this you are all well and as I am still in the process of unpacking (but yes as my mother mentioned yesterday I have unpacked my PC – I have crazy priorities, my TV isn’t plugged in (I’m too lazy) and the PC was crying out to me every time I walked past). I will try to be more regular at blogging, but please forgive me as this is a most unusual circumstance. Evicted by shit, who’da thunk it?

Thursday, September 09, 2004

Finally (the continuing saga of the pool).

So I finally got the pool sorted today (ok well technically it was yesterday). I called the real estate, by now I should have them put in my speed dial, looking at past circumstances.

The Green Pool (taken a few weeks ago and in the day). Posted by Hello

But finally, oh yes finally. So what happened? I spoke to the Pool people, who said they were still waiting for the real estate, (who when I called) said they had spoken to the owner, who said he would contact the pool people and sort it out (but this has been the story for months). OMG!!! So I (not so politely – I have had enough of this fucking me around crap)suggested that perhaps as the real estate, it is their responsibility to ensure that my premises is maintained and I am paying a rather decent rent, they could perhaps take it upon themselves to sort this RIGHT NOW. Well in no way did I expect this tact to work, but she, Samantha (screw her this is her real name and if I had her surname I may just be inclined to post that too) told me (oh yes, once again) that she would call the owner and call me back.

Anyhow I went off to lunch and when I returned I gave the pool place another call (yes I do believe in miracles…). And you wouldn’t believe it (oh and quickly, every employee knows me by name and if I call I do not have to explain the situation – they all know, this concerns me but only a little) - the nice lady who knows all about it tells me that yes they finally got the go ahead from the owner and they will be around tomorrow (this is today). And when I got home today the pool looks like a foamy wonderland (smells like a rank rock pool on the beach still though – laced with chlorine) and the filter is running and the pool doesn’t quite look to bad (ok well it still does but I can see the underlying potential).

I went in to the pool area to have a quick squiz, and let Max in too, he runs around a bit has a look and then comes and sits next to me for a pat. I decide to take a photo and write this story and post it up so I go inside grab the camera and go back out. I go back into the pool area and hold the gate open for Max (this was a mistake) and he bounds back into the area (I put him out – well more accurately he followed me out when I walked out – the first time, if you’re wondering why I let him in twice). But anyhow, I walked as far back as I could and it was kinda dark through the viewfinder so I snapped off a couple of shots, they lighten in the view when they are taken but it was night so they weren’t that bright. I see Max doing the lean over the edge and as he has never gone in the pool before (and has been in there a bit – the area that is) I am not really concerned.

The Pool - after the swim - the blury thing in the foreground is Max Posted by Hello

But then I go to take another snap and what do I hear? SPLASH!!! OMG!!! I look back and little Max is now in a sea of bubbles and green – thank god he can swim – I got him as a pup and he never has before but he was doing a pretty good job if you ask me. I am sorry to say I actually let out a laugh, I have a horrible streak (I warn you never fall down or hurt yourself in front of me – I will laugh). He swam across to me – and as you can see by the photos there is a bit of a ledge and he can’t get out (without help). I am still laughing a little when I walk over to the stairs and call him over to me – I can’t lift him out unless he is closer to the top and he can climb on the stairs and as much as I love him – I AM NOT getting in the pool to save him. (Ok well maybe if he was in dire straights – but he wasn’t at this moment).

He swims to the stairs and I grab his collar and help him out, he spends the next five minutes shaking right next to me (as much as I tell him to bugger off and do it elsewhere it is dark and cold out and I don’t need to be all wet thank you very much). So anyhow I leave the pool area (again) after our little adventure (oh yes Max does join me). I tell him how silly he is and get a towel for him (I didn’t just pass it to him I helped him with it).

Crazy, crazy dog – but he did bring a smile to me after a crappy day at work.

Psyco Puppy (aka Max)the swimmer Posted by Hello

Saturday, September 04, 2004

Water level

Ok today I was talking to a friend about going to the toilet (I don’t know why – it just kinda slipped into the convo). The etiquette involved the type of paper we used (didn’t actually get into wiping styles – thank god – some thing should probably remain a mystery, you know).

But it reminded me of a funny story and I shared it, and I will do the same with you. It is based on the differences of the toilets between the United States and Australia. Let me explain, in Australia the toilet has water that covers only the very bottom of the bowl, maybe 10 cms depth tops (and yes we have a dual flush on our toilets – well some of them, the half flush (for number ones) and normal flush (for number twos)).

Now from my few trips to the states I have come to realise that the toilets there are full of water, almost to the top. A daunting proposal for someone who is from the land of Oz. I looked in the bowl and tried to work out that if I sat down, would the water actually touch my ass. Of course this is ridiculous but the water does look pretty close to the top, especially with what I (and every other Australian) is used to.

So anyhow here is where the story begins. I remember being in the States with my family (yes the whole fam all 6 of us, mum, my step dad, brother, brother, sister and I). And my little sis, who was about 6 or 7 at the time taking a dump, dropping off a package, choking a grogan, whatever. Now because of her age and the fact that we were in a motel room, I am 99.9% sure that the bathroom door was open. As a matter of fact this is a horrible trait of all the women in my family (with the exception of me that is – ok I do leave the door open but only in my own home).

So anyway, 7’s in there for a bit and stinking up the room (I think at this stage someone may have closed the door and put on the exhaust fan in the bathroom – and said something derogatory (this goes without saying in my family)) and then 7 shrieks out and calls everyone in for a look. And what do we do? Well we all go in to look, of course. And what do we see? The longest turd you have ever seen, I would have been at least a meter or so long and due to the high water level there was no breakage, it was truly something to behold, and from someone so little (I kept glancing at 7 to make sure she wasn’t going to pass out from the lack of fluids or whatever). I was on the verge of calling out to mum to bring in a camera to capture this truly Kodak moment, but I did resist. I called the parents in anyhow to have a look. 7 was congratulated on her form and the fine specimen was flushed away, the flushing tearing it to pieces in the process, oh well.

Now this was only such an anomaly for us (being from Oz), as with the low level of water here and with the effect of gravity from the fall to the water (and the subsequent splashing)we never have anything like this, the breakage is relatively rapid and you end up with multiple parties in the bowl. And yes as there is no water filling the bowl, the chances of smears (or skids as they are referred) is actually quite high unless you are properly centred. But after 33 years I am well practiced and don’t have any issues to date. So anyway, this is my tale for the day; sorry about the level of where it sits (kind of in the gutter I would think) but oh well I hope it brought a smile.

Thursday, September 02, 2004

Happy birthday Dast

Well, here is the first community blog (I am guessing)- have a wonderful birthday Dast, hope you get lots of cool presents. (And this saves me writing a post).

A wonderful blogger, The Dastard, is having a birthday today. According to his profile, there will be 104 candles on his cake. Wow...someone call the fire dept. and have them on standby, ok?

What can we say about the Dastard?
This evasive creature, Limulus Polyphemus & Bean Town boy, will not allow his visage to be published on-line. He is quick, shifty, and likes to tease. I guess that's why he's the Dastard. Some speculate that he is just shy. The ladies are convinced, however, that the real reason is that he is so damned handsome. That has to be it...He won't show us his picture because he knows that all of the ladies in his cyber-harem would fall desperately in love with him (well, that is, those who aren't already)!

A big part of the reasons why we love the Dastard so much is the funny and clever things he says in comments - our comments and his own.

"The eyes follow you everywhere because the body they are attached to follows you everywhere. uh….that sounded a lot more creepy than sexy, huh? Sorry."

"The beer in the fridge it's yours...except the PBR, that's mine. And put back what ever you find in my sock/porn drawer."

"Sowing discord where ever I go. That's the Dastard way."
"I am wearing sparkly no-pantz right now!"

"I am I can't say it, but I did try so I still win."

"What's all this then? Oh, (large lapelled shirt open to my navel) it's time for The Dastard to kiss and make love to a certain special lady or ladies tonight, maybe followed by a little light sloth-tossing."

"Sorry. some of the below is witless prattle and may be boooorrrringgg!!!
I like saying "witless prattle." Did I just dis myself. Doh!"

"Me fail English, that's unpossible!!!"

"WUTTHEFUCKAREYOUEVENTALKINGABOUT?!!!!" "Better have my money now. I'm The Dastard, bitch!"

"Your mamma has an afro with a chin-strap"

"The picture you have up now is Hi-larry-us! I can't believe someone
actually made a conscious decision to leave the house looking like a

"Thanks for the big 'ol man-hug. Sorry I forgot to put deodorant on."

"Have you read all the way to the bottom and no dirty stuff or political rhetoric? Don't be mad, here's your reward: pener, hoo-ha, boobie, heiney, doin'-it, president."

" like to eat....never mind. BAD DASTARD!!"

"I don't have 2 pussies but I do have a man-gina."

"You don't want to be to harsh with the kitty. It's much better to be even handed. Maybe you should start gently and then add more discipline as needed, depending on the behavior of the kitty. Try this strategy: "nice kitty, nice kitty, nice, nice kitty, nice...bad kitty! bad kitty, bad, bad kitty....nice kitty, very nice kitty."

"I am your Bare and Unbalanced news source."

"I would never burst your bubbles, only gently caress and massage them."

"I like a girl who can guffaw at wrong things."

"Or maybe I'll just mount and then stuff you. Oh, you heard right"

"Hullo Random Gentle Sleepy Peach. Wakey-wakey. Poke-poke."

"The REdasTard had struck again"

"Remember to always probe your meatballs."

"I am wearing paper pantz"

"My mom made me those pants!! Shut up!!!"

"Great, now everybody knows what my ass looks like. Thanks a lot
Fleece. That camera phone is dangerous."

"Actually that is not me. I would never wear a red thong with pink tite-pantz."

"I cloned headless babies."

"I'm the only boob here."

"Did you really stay up until 1am last night like a big loser waiting
for blogger to come back? Huh? How do I know it was back up at 1? Ummmmmm......I, ah....shutup Fleece"

"It's Don Juan Dastardo to you!"

"I am not trying to be a tease, unless your name is Michael or Gooch and have a tub of ass-wax. Damn, am I typing it instead of only thinking it again?"

"why does everyone think they are the boss of me. "Dastard get haloscan. Dastard put up a new post. Dastard stop dating my mom.""

"I did everything exactly like you said...but after I asked this one guy to smell it, well, that's the last I remember until I woke up in a hotel room somewhere in Thailand, wearing nothing but a leopard print banana-hamock."


Critics Agree...
"Dastard, even though I crush on you, you don't pick on me about it.
Everything is fair game, and I love that. Happy Birthday Shmoopee!" - Lovisa

I think he is great, he shows a side you don't often see in the real world and that's refreshing. - Nord

"Dastard, Cheri, you know that I think you are simply the cat's pajamas. You are sensitive, intelligent, mysterious, obnoxious, freaking hilarious, thoughtful, and oh so sexy - everything I love in a man. Happy Birthday! *104 WHAPS and matching giggle smooches!* - Celti

What I like about El Dastardo.. he's witty, not afraid to make fun of himself, insightful and not afraid to admit (gasp) he has feelings and is sometimes confused and angry about life. He's remarkably upfront about what others may see as "geeky science stuff." I think he has a true passion for it and doesn't give a rats ass what anyone thinks. Did I mention he's a real hoot? And even though we've never seen his face, he truly has a sexy personality. I hope he's willing to meet me when I got to Boston later this Fall. What he said to me today in comments really did cause intense passion to flood my loins, which was no more than "I'll make you come... up here." LOL!!! He has such a way about him that you can't help but think of him sitting at his computer, biting his lip with a wicked, wicked grin on his face as he spars with the bloggers. He's a diamond in the rough. - Inanna

That Dern Dastard! There was this time that I thought Dastard was trying to steal my identity. He signed off as Cooter Pie on Sloth's website... and I felt oh-so violated. After all, I'm the sweetest Cooter there is... and if he was closer to the midwest, I'd eat him right up! Cootersnap likey Cooter Pie... - Ang

The Dastard is a good man deep inside. i used my x-ray vision of doom and i saw the truth. inside the spiky metal armor beats a great big heart with real feelings inside it. -el sid

He's my Distardly boy -- even though he often commits fashion faux pas
that I document on my blog (hello! red crisscrossy pants!). I love
this guy for his quirkiness, insight and fearlessness to question
everything that challenges him. Happy Birthday, Dastard! Fleecely hugs and love.
- Fleece

Top Ten Reasons I love the Dastard:
1. He's funny
2. He's smart
3. He has pretty eyes
4. He always says the right things: "Aimee: you are as sweet as a Krispy Kreme. I will think about you the next time I eat one but I will be thinking something nasty too."
5. Waaay back, before we even knew about the moth flies in the men's bathroom, he told us about his love of crotch-less wetsuits, the funny-name lists he makes, and his missing asparagus-pee enzyme. When I commented, his reply was, "Aimee: Consider yourself Mrs. Dastard", so I do.
6. When I get sick & have pulled muscles, he says, "My favorite Goofhead: Aww..blisters and pulled muskles. You need some tender dastardly luv.
7. When I flirt with guys, he chastises me in the nicest way (and makes me blush), "FLIRTED WITH A GUY?!! Let me at 'im! Seriously, that's good pour vous. But we already knew you were a great flirt."
8. Even though he's in love with Lovisa (aka: Lovie Poppet), see #5 above. (heehee!)
9. He and Sloth are friends, and Sloth is a good, good woman.
10. He had the good sense to be born a Virgo.
Happy Birthday, Dastard. Love you. - Aimee

Dear Dastard, because it is your birthday and ONLY because it is your birthday, I will, for one day only..............................let you be the boss of me. - Sloth

And Now...a little musical dedication to our Dastard:

  • "Dastard of Blogging"

  • Click the Title to Hear the Tune - Sung by Michael to the music of "Master of
    Puppets" by Metallica.

    Who the hell is that
    In the Krispy Kreme hat
    Elusive just to scoff you
    His references you heed
    Books that you should read
    Vonnegut and Nabakov, too. Aliens, Guns & Boobs by Lovisa

    I will read your site
    ’Cause you’re erudite
    The pics you volunteer
    Are in your scuba gear

    Come scrawling faster
    The blog of Dastard
    His comments blast ya
    The blog of Dastard

    Dastard of blogging he’s funny as hell
    Bein’ a wise-ass, but bein’ himself
    Blinded by wit you can’t see his face
    That or ‘cause his hand’s in the way
    Sometimes he’s "Dangsta" but I’m gonna say

    We love you Dastard. Have a very, very happy birthday!

    Wednesday, September 01, 2004

    A change

    So yesterday a few people in my office told me I looked great. Now normally I would be ‘hey, thanks’ but I know the reason for these unfounded compliments and I am not sure they did. For a bit of background. I (until yesterday) had long blond (ok, I just wanted to say it was blond – and naturally so) hair, by long I mean it sat just above my ass, it is straight, not even a hint of curl and that’s about the size of it. It was getting to the point where you couldn’t do too much with it. Mostly leave it out straight (which I hated because it would get in the way). Or put it up in a plait or pony tail.

    So what did I do to it yesterday, you ask? I cut it – now usually I just go in for a ‘trim’, now this involves cutting roughly an inch or so from it, no big deal. But yesterday I got it cut to my shoulders, an extreme and daring move I know but after 7 years or so it was probably about time. And if not, well hell, it’ll grow back anyway.

    So my complaint of the day. Well a few people very non specifically mentioned how good I looked. In a ‘have you lost weight’ capacity. Well I figured it was a little rude to respond with. ‘No moron I have cut my hair off’ but you know, accept the compliment graciously and move on.

    But this got me thinking, if I look so great now – what did they think I looked like before? I mean I don’t think I look like a trog – but as for what others think – well I just don’t know. I wouldn’t have been too bad but almost everyone in the office said it looked good (and yes some actually noticed that I had had my hair cut).

    So anyway, I am basking in a sea of paranoia at the moment. It will pass in time I am sure. But I have decided today that I love my new hair, it looks cute, screw all those losers who couldn’t even figure out I had cut it. Maybe in the next 7 years or so I will get it cut again and see what response that will bring.
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