spurious george

In order to better provide for my vast readership and further disseminate my entertaining and worthwhile blog to the hungry masses, who have heretofore been denied its indispensible wisdom, I am providing a link to where I currently post.

 

"Finally!" I can hear the masses cry.

 

"Where has she been? Out of the country? She never posts anymore.....So you say she's all right..?" ripples through the crowds.....

 

"AaI'on't get it!" decries a random cute blonde, between smacks of gum.

 

basically, by only being able to comment on fellow MSN users' sites using a MSN passport, thanks to this new crazy 'live spaces' business (what will they think of next? horseless carriages? space travel?), any comments i render to a MSN dood necessitate a msn-based signature. grrr -- at least Blogger allows you to clearly state where else you might be found once you know how to set up your portal page.

 

and therein lies the rub. I'm sure that I could facilitate this business of portal management using the tools that are available to me, but I am much too dumb, erm...lazy, erm...incredibly busy to be bothered with the kind of techno-mumbo that they pay these kids right out of college to handle for me. except for the part about not working in an office or being anybody's boss.

 

so, without further adieu, this is where I currently post (of course, if you commit this to memory, I will have to kill you): www.irvwillbeover.blogspot.com

 

god that makes me hot when it turns all blue like that........

well, the big news is that my son has been tying up the phone line playing runescape for so many hours a day that a cellphone has been suggested as an alternative to the main line. not good.

 

fortunately, there is a separate phone line in the house, so I will be buying him a computer set-up so he can play day and night, to his heart's delight. in my bedroom. *sigh* ....it's not like there's anything else going on in there.... 

 

i'll be looking on craig's. there is a setup at best buy that is pretty good, but only if you buy into all of the manufacturer's rebates and qualify for their credit card, so I'll probably go used. my cute boys at the corner mom 'n pop (right down thar by the church's chicken, erotic bookstore(s), liquor store and the gun-and-pawn shop(s)) have done me right, so I'll probably toss them some bizness........

But at least I'm not freaking out and using up my supply of xanax. That seems to be the purvue of Steven and Carrie et al. Obviously, I can assume no surprise arrival from relatives this week. My little xanax moments are usually reserved for these. I'm supposed to go get some antidepressants from a doctor, which, hopefully, will have a guaranteed incidence of sexual side-effects. This, under the current circumstances, would be a major boon. But I have gotten all fat since the last time I saw the doc and I don't want a lecture.....

 

sick of being single. sick of being alone. my bed works, anyway. maybe I'll pull a chris and get all naked in it (since it's no longer this repulsive, filthy mattress on the repulsive, filthy floor that I had stopped bothering to even put linens on) and go a few rounds alone. maybe he and I can join forces and start a new online diet and exercise plan. we can call it 'Eat and Beat'

 

It was uncharacteristically hot and humid today, making housecleaning a challenge. I'm really out of shape. Lying around feeling sorry for oneself for months isn't exactly a conditioning method I would recommend, unless what you're training for is an early grave.........

I created a post on my blogger account about this ancient four-poster bed in my room that I have been attempting to cobble together after repeated collapses. I edited and edited this infernal piece of shit, which somehow started off as a quaint 'blue-collar tour' sort of rambling monologue describing the events surrounding this structure's demise and attempts at its resurrection (which has transpired over a period of weeks) and by the time I was done with the post and sent, I realized it was unreadable. which doesn't differentiate it from my other posts, but... so like my still uncompleted bedframe (remind me again of how much I despise manual labor?), said horribly cobbled post remains veiled.

 

I'm writing this because after repeated attempts to get into the Gates compound, the hounds keep tearing at my pants. so we'll see if this posts.

 

thought for the day: my periodic attempts at conquering this wooden beast always render the following response from my mom: "all four of you kids were conceived on this bed..." 

once again, mom. I wasn't able to visualize that quite as vividly as I had hoped.

 

here's a test for you: read the following statement and record the very first gesture you make upon absorbing it: "your parents having sex"

 

 

Jack handey's got nothing on this list.

 

If you're at the store stocking up on beer and buying onions and peppers to make potatoes au gratin with, it might be a good idea to pick up cheese. *sigh*

 

People who shop at Grocery Outlet are often missing critically important teeth.

 

Poor people are really not very attractive.

 

I shop at Grocery Outlet. *grin*

 

I'm thinking of changing "careers."

 

2 blocks from my house, a marquee adjacent to a little, freestanding housey building reads: Seattle fixer 250k. Agents hiring, will train. 

 

Women are beautiful.

 

That's a big commission check.

 

I'd better hem my good pants.

 

If a recipe calls for parsely and I don't have any, I have to throw the whole business in the garbage.

 

'Housey' is not a word.

 

Today isn't very different from any other day, except that I have to go to work tonight and I have no childcare.

 

What the fark does parsely do, anyway?

 

People who lack the attention span or courtesy to read through my longer, boring, but insightful posts have my deepest disd- holy crap! check out that bluebird! is that tight or what? -- what was I talking about?

 

I have some cool ideas for selling real estate, but they involve having a pretty powerful computer. no, chris, there's no porn.

 

I think people who sit in front of the computer all day, bugging people, shopping and writing on those 'blogs' are pathetic pieces of crap.

 

I listen to that f*ggoty bouncy-pop bubble-gum music played on popular radio stations, and also smooth jazz. Oh, you WANT sum a 'dis??  'cause I'll GIVE you sum a 'dis!!  BRING IT!!!

 

There is a crack on my ceiling that resembles a breast.

 

All of the people I talk to regularly on the internet (except one) are in different time zones. I have gotten really facile at adding 2 and 3 to the time.

 

Sometime I use the wrong preposition.

 

I hate, hate, hate this mouse.

 

Sheryl Crow is older than I am.

 

I over-nominalize too much.

 

I have two other blogs, each equally bereft of content.

 

I still want to suck on somebody's tongue.

 

I am unmarried, a fact for which I thank god every day.

 

Except for the no sex part.

 

I will think of something witty and insightful to add the second I hit Publish Entry.

 

that is all.

 

I can't publish entry because it's got swears in it and I can't find them to change the spelling.

 

Publish Entry

 

 

 

 

 

Well, after deleting everything and going underground for a while, I'm back online. Do you care? I think not!

 

I am in the house alone  (insert scary ghost voice from scooby doo here).

 

Let the holy trinity of blogs cast upon the unsuspecting cyber-world her foul opinions and renderings. Initiating sequence.......

 

I don't have one fucking thing to say.