Saturday, July 31, 2004
Blogrolling is back. Just as if it was never gone.
Were the fucking cunts at fucking blogrolling reading my blog?
Or was it just me?
No, don't say it was just me.
Is fucking blogrolling permanently fucking fucked or just temporarily fucking fucked or is it (yet again) just me?
I don't think its me because I can't even reach the blogrolling homepage. It must be the fucking cunts at fucking blogrolling.
I didn't realize how much I use the fucking thing. All my friends are there. Sure I can still find them but it's harder.
What a fucking pain.
I'll give them another day or so to get their act straight.
The alternative, of course is to fuck with the fucking template.
My head hurts just thinking about it.
Thursday, July 29, 2004
And if you think I can remember how to make the background transparent on my new fighting fish monsters you are sadly mistaken. The background will have to be white. Yes, I know , I have done it before. But that was ages and ages ago when I had less scotch and more patience. Grants 100% proof scotch is quite acceptable.
And to all of you who made fun of my suites ( toilet and three piece for example) I will remember your names. They are permanently etched in my memory. They cannot be erased, unlike the sequence of events which renders an image background transparent which cannot be remembered.
Fuck me with a bent bargepole. I just realized that HT stands for HADDOCKTWAT. I wonder what the ML stands for. Anyone know?
That is definitely it. The lambs are no more. Unfortunately the lamb curry left something to be desired
Does anyone know of a good plumber?
Oh and a rock removal expert too. There is one other small problem to be dealt with
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Some advertising may be planned and other advertising may be unplanned to say the least.
Here's an example from Newfoundland. There's a hilarious photo currently making the rounds via email. It's a digital photo of the Steele Communications' HITS FM mini-van, with the letters HITS painted on the side in big block letters. The photo shows the van at a public event, with the sliding door open and a staffer reaching inside. What's so funny about that? Well, the letter S is painted on the window of the sliding door so that, when it opens, the S moves to the front of HIT, creating an entirely new word.
And then there's Sofa King.
Their prices are "SOFA KING LOW". Try saying that fast.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Yeah really. Fun, jolly etc etc etc NOT that is. No fucking way.
A couple of days ago I stumbled over the tombstone thingy and I thought it would be nice for Jack as his blog appeared to be defunct.
So I went to the tombstone generator website and generated a suitable tombstone to commemorate Jacks blog and to wish him good luck in his rebirth. So far so good. This is when the trouble started. They say don't link to this tombstone. It won't work. Instead save the file. OK so I do that, not hard. Then, in order to link to it and show it on my blog I have to get it onto the Internet somewhere.
Some of you may remember my trials and tribulations with this issue before concerning the html monster picture. At that time I opened a couple of free personal websites just to put the picture on and link to and it did, eventually work. Now I remembered the lycos.co.uk was the one I got to work. But how the fuck did I do it? What is the website? After a while and much trouble I figured this out. Then they wanted me to login. Well I ask you, after months of not using it, how can they expect anyone to remember the name and password. FUCK and DOUBLE FUCK.
I started guessing and after half an hour I was successful. OK, I'm in. Now what? Not very technotwat friendly is it? Finally I was successful. Jack, you don't know how much grief I went through for you.
I think there must be something easier out there and I think, maybe, I have found something. PHOTODUMP is much easier to use for images. I tested it out on the little fishies at the top (please God they aren't lambs like wot Zed says). If you just want a place to store and/or link to images this is pretty easy. Even for me. It even gives you the html code for linking to the image eg the Fish. And also the image file name for direct display
Oh what fun the fuckers have with me.
Sunday, July 25, 2004
OK. Here is your Monday morning smile.
Make sure your speakers are on.
Put your coffee down.
If you are blogging at work use extreme caution.
The Top Ten Cutest Kittens
Thanks for this go out to Rob Manuel. Thanks Rob.
What's up Jack?
Another sad case of "Death by bloggEr"
Come on Jack, you can beat it. You can rise again.
PS If you want to make a tombstone go to this website.
Friday, July 23, 2004
Kim over at Bacon and Ehs had this crazy blog today. Kim was sitting on the shitter thinking of me. Yes, she was thinking of me - haddocktwat. And she was thinking of blogging. How fucking weird is this?
Are you like Kim? Have you been thinking of me and blogging while enthroned on the shitter? If so you need the correct equipment.
We Like The Moon
Oh fuck a pig! The Spongmonkeys are trying to jump on the kittens bandwagon. Make sure your speakers are on.
I can't stop laughing. I don't know why but this is funny.
More stuff by John Veitch at The Lair of the Crab with Ineffable Wisdom
Way to go John
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
To be more precise seagull shit. So I am driving along when --WHAM -- right in the middle of my windshield (windscreen) I am hit with this huge gi-normous dollop of seagull shit.
The central part is sort of brownish and kind of gritty while the outer part is white and much more finegrained. There are enormously long splash-rays spreading out over half the windshield/screen.
What do I say? I say FUCK. What does my passenger say ? He says "That brings good luck you know".
Since when does a fucking huge seagull taking a massive dump on your car bring good luck. Since fucking never thats when since.
The only good luck was the seagull didn't shit half a second later. If it had the huge shitpile might have come right through my open sunroof. It might have even hit me on the head. It might have even got in my eyes and since I was driving fast across a mammoth suspension bridge at the time I might not have been here to tell you about it. I might have been feeding the fishes at the bottom of First Narrows.
I suppose that is good luck in a weird sort of way.
FUCK - I have just been plated by a seagull
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
I couldn't resist posting this
AMERICA AND THE UK
"the special relationship"
Once again courtesy of the people over at President-Bush
I feel bad. I forgot to give credit where credit is due. Yesterday's picture came from the President-Bush website. It's a fine place so please visit it. You'll have a good time.
Here is another interesting thing.
are made in Port Angeles. Washington, USA. The inside label carries instructions on washing and caring for the bags. Because the bags are sold in Canada, the instructions are also printed in French.
You may notice that the French portion of the label has more words than the English. If you can read French you may already be laughing.
The French version contains an additional phrase: "NOUS SOMMES DESOLES QUE NOTRE PRESIDENT SOIT UN IDIOT. NOUS N'AVONS PAS VOTE POUR LUI."
Translated to English, the phrase reads, "We are sorry that our President is an idiot. We did not vote for him."
Check out the Tom Bihn website
They suggest "The "secret" message began as an inside joke among seamstresses and staff at the Tom Bihn factory, and was apparently intended to poke fun at company's founder and president, Tom Bihn. " But I am not so sure.
Monday, July 19, 2004
Sunday, July 18, 2004
OK so maybe I was a little hard on you. I was wondering why I was so aggressive. I eventually came to the conclusion it was because attack is the best form of defence. But why be so fucking defensive? The answer is glaringly obvious - guilt.
Guilt at my own blogging inadequacies. Fuck. I'm not even catholic.
Double fuck because I took it out on you and you didn't do anything.
So here is a gesture of forgiveness
This is the UNFUCK GESTURE thanks to its originator D. Weinberger
OK then. I have read and, to some extent, considered what you have said. Well ... what some of you have said anyway. Some of you have clearly also considered this subject. Some of you are mature. Some of you even make sense.
Here's what I think
- My blog is mine
- I can do what I want on my blog
- If you don't like it you can fuck right off and die
- For my own personal convenience I plan to have the blogs I read daily on my blogroll list
- If I stop reading them daily because
I get bored
they don't update often,
they close down etc.
then they are gone just as soon as I am prepared to face fucking with the fucking template
- I don't know how many blogs I can read everyday but I think I must be approaching my limit
- Other blogs of interest to me for one reason or another I will keep in "my favourites" and consider them as time permits
- I am sure that these rules will bring problems - it's because there are too many fucking blogs out there
- Like all rules these are made to be broken
- MY BLOG - MY RULES
The real problem is that there isn't enough time out there to do it all. The solution to this problem is a mystery to me. It is just a matter of dealing with it in the best way I can find.
Saturday, July 17, 2004
I am right aren't I? I know I am.
There are just too many blogs. Too many bloggers. Too much blogging going on.
Even worse quite a few of the blogs and bloggers are interesting/entertaining/funny/educational etc...
Even worse, after a while, some of the bloggers start to feel like old friends.
But the basic problem is still there. There are just too many of them to cope with.
I am trying to put links on my blogroll to the ones I read each day. But it gets longer and longer. I never seem to take any off the list. Then, of course, there are my other lists.
So far there are 17 on my blogroll list, 36 on my first other list and an uncountable number on my other lists.
How the fuck did I get into this mess?
Every couple of weeks I go through my other lists, move things around a bit and add some to my blogroll. I've just added 4 more. How do you decide? what criteria do you use? If someone links to you do you have to link to them even if you hate their blog? This blog etiquette thing is getting confusing. I'm sinking deeper and deeper into the quicksand.
I think I had better stop right now before I get myself into trouble.
Friday, July 16, 2004
Gwyneth Paltrow went out looking like this. Would you? Why wouldn't she cover up?
According to the BBC and I suppose we must believe them, these are NOT bizarre lovebites.
Although they are certainly bizarre. Apparently they are 'healthy bruises'. Yeah - right.
Regarding cupping ( it involves placing glass cups over specific points on the back and then heating them to create a vacuum.) "There is no evidence for its efficacy. It has not been submitted to clinical trials, but there have certainly been satisfied customers for 3,000 years."
I wonder if Gwyneth was satisfied going out looking like she had been attacked by a fucking giant octopus. Would you be?
Mondo Bizarro if you ask me.
Martha Stewart has just been sentenced to five months in jail.
Now I suppose we will have an ouitbreak of posts and articles and things on the web showing how to decorate jail cells.
It will be the next rage in reality shows. Then the home decorators will get into it. Then the redo your garden people. Perhaps window boxes?
I am cringing aleady at the mere thought of this
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
I came across an unusual website from a link at Bacon and Ehs yet another quality Canadian blog.
I browsed the archives and came across this gem
Dear Mr. Penis,
I'm not sure if you can help. I have a most unusual case. You see, unlike most men, my penis has more than a mind of it's own, it has a completely separate personality. This makes it very difficult for me to get intimate with a woman. At the most romantic moments, my penis ruins the whole mood by yelling "Ride the bull, baby!" or "This little piggy's going home!" It has also been known to chew tobacco and spit on the loins of my lovers during foreplay. You can imagine what a problem that would cause! Is there anything I can do to calm my rascal down? Are there drugs I can take to sedate his lewd behavior without affecting the rest of my body? I have attached a picture of my member so you can truly see what a problem he has become.
Billy Bob Heecock
This should teach you a lesson. All the years of fucking sheep, cows, and horses have turned your penis into a cowboy. It has grown accustomed to being around farm animals, and has adjusted its look and attitude accordingly. You need to wean your penis off of the livestock, and start changing its diet to strictly human women. Unfortunately, I can't guarantee that your little wrangler will go back to being your everyday johnson, so you may want to consider taking line dancing lessons.
Good sound advice imo.
If you are not squeamish visit Ask Mr Penis and look through the archives. This is in September 2000, the picture is worth the visit.
LAKE DISTRICT part of northern England with many ... wait for it ... yes ... LAKES.
Considered picturesque by many.
BRADFORD an industrial city in northern England.
Considered not picturesque by many.
WHIPPET A greyhound type dog popular in the north of England
THASLANDED "Thou hast landed" or, if you prefer "you have arrived."
"AYE THERE'S MORE LAKES NA WORKS IN BRADFORD'. The crux of the whole thing and of course the most difficult to explain.
We have to go back about a thousand years to the Viking invasions
There are many words of Norse origin spoken today in Yorkshire dialect. For example LAKE meaning PLAY. Yes it does mean that. If you go to a Swedish/English dictionary and look up the Swedish word LEK you will see this.
So, in Yorkshire Lake can mean either "a large body of water" or "play" which is used as a rem for unemployed ie "EesLaking" means "He is out of work"
A "works" is used for a "factory"
More lakes na works in Bradford could mean:
there are more large bodies of water than factories in Bradford (NOT VERY LIKELY)
more people are unemployed than are working in Bradford (VERY LIKELY)
If you want to learn more about the Yorkshire dialect and the Viking influence there are pots of links on the web here's one to start with. Bradford, btw in addition to being the home of Mick in the UK is also home of the Yorkshire Dialect Society founded in 1897.
Fuck. It is hard to explain perfectly good jokes to non northerners. Next time I won't try. If you are not from there you will be SOL.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
A posh jumped up twat from somewhere "down south" ie not from "OOP NORTH" ie from somewhere south of Yorkshire is driving to the Lake District.
He finds himself in Bradford (how I can't imagine but then again he is a posh jumped up twat from somewhere "down south" and that might explain many things.
He sees a local walking his whippet down the road and pulls over to ask directions (btw REAL MEN ie from OOP NORTH never ask for directions only posh jumped up twats from somewhere "down south").
The conversation goes like this:
PJUTFSDS (posh jumped up twat from somewhere "down south" ) : "I say my good man is this the way to the Lake District?
PJUTFSDS: I beg your pardon my good man. Is this the Lake District"
PJUTFSDS (Looks around bewildered and can't see any bodies of water larger than the pool of Whippet piss running down the side of his car) "Are you sure?"
Local : "Aye theres more lakes na works in Bradford"
If thaduntgerrit then ask a northerner. Someone will explain I am sure
Monday, July 12, 2004
I realize that nothing I say matters to anyone else on the entire planet.
My opinions are useless and unfocused. I am an expert in nothing. I know
nothing. I am confused about almost everything. I cannot, as an
individual, ever possibly know everything, or even enough to make editorial
commentary on the vast vast majority of things that exist in my world. This
is a stupid document; it is meaningless drivel that I do not expect
any of the several billion people on my planet to actually read. People who
do read my rambling, incoherent dumbfuckery are probably just as confused as
I am, if not moreso, as they are looking to my sorry ass for an opinion when
they should be outside playing Frisbee with their dog or screwing their life
partner or getting a dog or getting a life partner. Anyone who actually
takes the time to read my bullshit probably deserves to ingest my fucked up
and obviously mistaken opinions on whatever it is that I have written about.
Signed: Your Pal, Haddocktwat
The above statement is taken from WHY I FUCKING HATE WEB LOGS
It is well worth reading and thinking about.
btw I do it because its fun. What about you?
Saturday, July 10, 2004
Yesterday I was in a department store in downtown Vancouver. To be precise I was in the Hudson's Bay store. I selected the item I wanted and then looked for a place to pay. Since I was last there they had removed all the tills (aka cash registers) which were previously strategically located around the store. They had replaced them with signs pointing to a central paypoint. The signs all say SERVICE.
OK then so I follow the signs to the location. All spanking new and spacious. A nice little queueing area with ropes to keep everyone in line. 6 or 7 tills(aka cash registers) but only one clerk working ringing in someone's purchase of a salad bowl. But there was no-one in line so I was next and it didn't seem like a problem.
But it was a problem. As soon as she had finished with the customer in front of me the clerk looked at me and said "someone will be right along to help you" and she walked off. Can you believe it - SHE JUST FUCKING WALKED OFF. There were 2 other people behind the counter, one on the phone and one checking through some kind of ledger. Well all right I thought - they won't be long,
By now there were about 4 people behind me in the nice little spacious roped off queueing area. A new clerk walked over to the counter. I prepared to move forward with my purchase when she chose a till (aka cash register). But she picked up a ledger and started leafing through it. By now there were 8 people waiting to pay.
"Excuse me" I said "Is anyone working here?" One said " We're all busy" without looking up from the ledger. I waited another minute "Excuse Me "I said again "Does anyone want to take my money?". I received bewildered stares but no answer. "Excuse Me" I said " Do you sell things in this store?". No answer yet again.
I walked up to the counter. Put the item which I had been intending to purchase down with a loud bang and said " I guess you don't want anyone to buy anything in this store" They stared at me as though I was mad. In truth I was mad. Plenty fucking mad. The queue was now up to 12.
I left the store. I won't be back.
Friday, July 09, 2004
If you split with your wife and kids would you end up with Sheryl Crow as a girlfriend?
Lance Armstrong did. They have been showing interviews with Sheryl at the Tour de France.
But I'm not a five time winner of the Tour De France. In fact I haven't won anything at all recently .So ...... I'd probably end up with someone more like Marge Simpson.
Doh. Oh well.
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
I have been getting up my courage to rid myself of the trackback thingy. In the months I have been blogging it has consistently showed zero. No one uses the fucking thing. In fact no one even understands what it does.
The trackback thingy is a complete WOFTAM. No question.
I've done it. Its gone now. Who knows what else I have done but that code is now in trackback hell.
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
This morning dawned moist and misty
But as the day went on it became quite sunny
And soon it will be evening
What a beautiful place is Vancouver.
Sunday, July 04, 2004
Congratulations to Greece. I didn't think they would do it but they did.
Angelos Charisteas was the man.
I have been feeling bad lately because there are a number of blogs I read but haven't put a link to on my blog. The reason is simply that they haven't set themselves up for blogrolling. So I have to add them manually and that means fighting with the fucking template and fucking bloggar and fucking blogger and all the fucking rest of them.
So now I have finally started, thanks to MrT and to zoe for their help.
It still isn't quite right (of course not). The entry (I've only the energy for one right now as a test) under "blogs" looks different to the entries under "blogrolling". This is NOT intentional. I just can't seem to control the font as I want.
I'm going for a beer now
Saturday, July 03, 2004
So today I go to make a minor change to the fucking template. What do I get?
The w.bloggar thingy will save but not publish (only templates - posts are OK).
Your blog server returned the following error message:
What the fuck does that mean?
I tried searching the fucking template. "pyra" does NOT exist on the template. It guess it must something internal to either w.bloggar or blogger. I don't give a flying philadelphia fuck which one. I just want them to fix it. This is obviously their fault and not mine.
Somebody help me please. My CLF is away camping so he is useless. Actually he is useless anyway even if he is in town. He just laughs hysterically when I tell him what has happened.
I am getting tempted to use some bad language here
Friday, July 02, 2004
A Canadian Is Drinking In A New York Bar....
He gets a call on his cell phone.
He hangs up, grinning from ear to ear & orders a round of drinks for everybody in the bar because, he announces, his wife has just produced a typical Canadian baby boy Weighing 25 pounds.
Nobody can believe that any new baby can weigh in at 25 pounds, but the Canadian just shrugs, "That's about average up North, folks.
Like I said, my boy's a typical Canadian baby boy."
Congratulations showered him from all around & many exclamations of "WOW!" were heard.
One woman actually fainted due to sympathy pains.
Two weeks later the Canadian returns to the bar. The bartender says "Say, you're the father of that typical Canadian baby that weighed 25 pounds at birth, aren't you?
Everybody's been makin' bets about how big he'd be in two weeks. We were gonna call you... so how much does he weigh now?"
The proud father answers, "Seventeen pounds." The bartender is puzzled & concerned. "What happened? He already weighed 25 pounds the day he was born."
The Canadian father takes a slow swig from his Molson Canadian, wipes his lips on his shirt sleeve, leans into the bartender & proudly says,
"Had him circumcised".
I AM CANADIAN