For what exactly, I don’t know. Maybe you’ll just get random Haiku Fridays. I do have a collection of mostly terrible haikus (Spellcheck hates that. It’s making with the red squiggly.) written to entertain a former manager and mostly myself. Penelope Trunk says poetry will help your career. My sample set seems to disagree. What is the plural of haiku anyway? Apparently, it’s haiku and I was really wanting that question to be in haiku form.
Anyway, I make no promises. This free ice ice cream machine isn’t the current model, and I can’t afford the new one so we’re just going to have to deal with some quirks and glitches while I try and get this mess up and running again. Please pardon the mess.
I know, I haven’t been around much. Work is busy. Home life is insane. And did I mention I got the bright idea to go back to school? You know, when you major in music they don’t make you sit for a single accounting course. And since my end goal is to get my CPA… Well, you see my predicament. I know, extroverted accountant sounds like an oxymoron, but since when have I been the normal one?
But hey, I got to play with a cannon over the weekend.
Lumpia was made and consumed
And most of all, my soul was rejuvenated by the company of the very best people. You know who you are. My tribe. My heart. I am blessed beyond measure.
Here’s to you
I’m on a break between trimesters (accelerated classes so there are 3 sessions per year), so I will attempt to get the free ice cream flowing again. You know what happens when you let dairy sit too long, so there may be some clean-out and overhaul needed. Do ignore the smell.
I don’t know what’s coming next, but I hope you’ll stay along for the ride.
So that little Dance, Monkey rant I wrote way back in 2010 has recently gained new life. You’ve probably stumbled across it since it has legs of its own now and walks free of its original creator (That’s called plagiarism, folks. If you see it, let me know). Sometimes it even picks up some extra words along the way.
Clearly, it resonates with people even still. I like that. I like when my words reach people. I like to think of all of you imaginary friends out there as real live people with thoughts, passions, experiences, opinions of your own. Something this response to my rant points out that I didn’t express well.
“You exist for my entertainment.”
Can you imagine saying that to another human being? I would hope that none of us could imagine it. Especially those of us who are Christians. The words go against the very foundation of our faith—the belief that God made us, loves us, and died to redeem us, and that His love gives us each worth.
She’s got a point, and I would never say that to another human being. Yes, my rant is worded personally, but it is directed self-important character these various celebrities play when they have an audience. Don’t get me wrong, I stand behind what I said in that rant seven years ago. The point is that despite what those in the public eye seem to believe, their opinions don’t matter any more than any other human being. Yes, they are human beings deserving of love and compassion with every right to their own opinions, but they do not have any authority to direct what you or I chose to believe.
My words were harsh and intentionally so. I make no apologies for them. I encourage you to read Gina Dalfonzo’s Rebuttal to me. She takes a much kinder and gentler approach to reminding us all that no matter how many cameras are pointed at you or how much a platform you’re given, we’re all humans suffering the same human condition.
First you try to pass off my content as your own (link goes to an archive), but once you got called on it, you made a snarky comment and blocked me from it before I ever got a chance to see it.
What a tiny ego you’ve got there! Not only are you so lacking in wit that you have to steal it without attribution, but you don’t have the courage to actually address me directly and instead decided to hide your clearly insignificant confidence. That’s so cute.
See, I don’t actually have time to research what you post. I have friends. I know that’s probably a foreign concept for you. I suppose my readers may want to reach out to you to thank you, though. I’ve been neglecting this space and your sniveling attempt to build yourself up inspired me to actually post something. Congratulations, Robert Judware, Thieving Troll! Have fun with that.
So as you may have seen elsewhere around the interwebs, we spent our weekend with our tribe. Our chosen family. Phlegmfest.
Saturday night sitting in OldNFO‘s living room, I was reminiscing with Christina. I remarked that here in this room sit some of my very favorite people on the planet and it all started with a little shindig she threw some years back. We’d never met, but since Jim suggested she invite us, she did. I think he may have left out the part where he hadn’t met the Evylrobot and me.
But we figured, what the hell. Let’s take a road trip. What could possibly go wrong? I went to my boss to request the time off. He granted it and conversationally asked, “So what do you have planned?”
“Oh, erm. We’re going out of state to meet people from the internet. With guns.”
He gave me the look. You know the one.
Best crazy idea ever.
Never in a million years would I have thought that party would lead all the wild places that it has. Because of that weekend, I have since found myself dressed in a vinyl catsuit standing in a room cheering on the waxing of a friend. We’ve presented a pink gorilla to none other than Lawdog, himself, and we’ve traded puns with Peter and Dot. We’ve killed and eaten some of FarmDad‘s chickens. We’ve spent our lives south of the Mason Dixon, but it took GayCynic to make grits we actually enjoy. I’ve had my intoxication levels evaluated by Matt G, and gone antiquing with the divine miss Phlegmmy.
It was a pleasure, as always, to spend the weekend with this ragtag group of mischief makers. My soul is replenished by the laughter of my friends. Those of the tribe that didn’t make it, know that you were missed, and we look forward to being in your company soon. Hopefully no one will wind up in the emergency room next time.
Yep, I skipped day 6 altogether and then totally flubbed 12. 3rd take. Sorry, I wasn’t doing it again. That one is freaking long!
Hmm, I’ve got better recording equipment now. Maybe I should revisit these.
Go visit Squeaky for The Fun Show song. You know what it takes to be a well-trained vocalist? A lot of work, dedication, and madness. Probably an extra helping or two of madness. How many of you had teachers reach out and press on your diaphragm? Or hand you a chalk board to carry around to communicate because they’ve put you on a week of vocal rest (no talking at all)? And don’t even get me started on vocal drills and warm-ups*.
Yeah, I know exactly how hard Squeaky worked to be the vocalist she is, and she did this as a gift for a friend. To have someone rip off her labor of love is unforgivable. And not only hers, but Tam’s words and Ambulance Driver’s work. Not that I’ve ever sent any traffic to the site which will not be named, but I ask that you spread the word and starve them of attention.
Other than polite reminders (already issued) and the distant possibility of lawyering up — Tam’s a writer and her stock in trade is the unique groupings of words she creates — there’s not a whole lot that can be done.
But there is one thing. Cato famously ended every speech he made in the Roman Senate with “Carthage must be destroyed,” even if all he was talking about was proclaiming Junior Vestal Day. The phrase I’d like you to remember and to post all over the Internet is “Dan Zimmerman. Intellectual property thief.Dead Hooker Magazine.” And good morning, search engines!
If you are seeing this, then this website has successfully migrated to a new host (Which is actually the old host I left 3 years ago. The grass was decidedly not greener.). Please let me know if you stumble across any weirdness. Website weirdness. Jennifer weirdness is to be expected.