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Jett Superior laid this on you on || June 27, 2003 || 7:56 am

Do not go to bed, oh readers of mine weblog, with pigtails in your hair. Trust me on this one. You will pay dearly for that brief moment of forgetful laziness.

I have the house deliciously, profanely to myself. For four days! The fam took the annual trip to the beach without me, as I was unavoidably detained with the work shutdown and wrap-up. My god, do I need the reflective time, filled with, in turns orange juice and soft music, wine and soundless air.

I also need the time to drink and masturbate, but that’s neither here nor there, really. Sorry I mentioned it.

If you would, wonderful Superior Muffinasses, take a look at the comments on the last entry. But Jett, you say, there’re no comments to be seen on that last entry! Yes, upon quick glance one would have to agree with you. BUT, click the link and voila!, magically comments appear!

The only thing different about this weblog is the fact that Blogger ‘changed’ some things.

Okay, I don’t typically curse Blogger, even when it chews up and spits out a lovingly-crafted post. If I lose something for lack of saving it before it’s proven published, it’s my own damned fault. I’m using a free service, and I fully believe you get what you pay for. In this instance, I’ve gotten three years’-worth, really, more than I’ve paid for.

So, Blogger has been mucking around, ‘changing’ things. But the ‘changes’ implemented here aren’t so wondrous as to merit the gnawing-through of my comments feature. I will try to get hold of theDane as quickly as possible for a look-see, but in the interim, do any of you have any idears? The lovely timato was quick to point out that the number assigned to the post and comments are unusually long compared to previous posts, but he’s an MT user and has no use for Bloggery knowledge.

FUCKING BLOGGER! Fucking up my shit! FUCK! I can understand why they would want to confound some of the newer “My parentz R so unkewl, i cant go out on fri nite.” users; stop up the floodgates of inanity, if you will. But longtime users that actually occasionally have something to say? It should be like the ‘New Coke’/'Old Coke’ issue. I should have had a fucking choice, not yanked right the fuck into the new system. Why couldn’t I have opted out? Does Blogger want all of their consistent, quality users to migrate away? Many, many people have been espousing MT to me, fussing for me to get with the program, for a long time. theDane has even offered to install it if I want to run it, but I’m nothing if not loyal, especially if something has treated me well consistently. Yeah, Blogger is free, and up until now the kinks (where I’m personally concerned) have been minimal, but free doesn’t give it excuse to be an ungodly pain in my ass.

In short, if Blogger starts mimicking the bad boyfriend (“…babyIloveyou, I’mhurtingyouforyourowngooood…”), then I’ll hit it on the head with a skillet and burn its clothes in a fifty-five gallon drum (like the LAST bad boyfriend I had).

FUCKING BLOGGER! Fucking up my shit! Any input will be appreciated.

m0rgaana: i’m wondering how they could tell
strom thurmond was dead?

JettSuperior:FACE=”Tahoma” SIZE=2>mmmmm….he stopped eating

JettSuperior:this must be breaking news.

m0rgaana: this morning i think

JettSuperior:because, maxim is out of town and I don’t
get the news while he’s gone.

m0rgaana: the puddle of drool under his head
on the desk didn’t continue to grow?

JettSuperior:that’s it! the country really IS going to hell
now, no handbasket required.

m0rgaana: i usually glance at google news
before work

m0rgaana: despite scalia’s best efforts at
keeping sexual organs for procreation use

JettSuperior:yes. we should all be free to take our
sexual organs out and scramble them for breakfast if we so

m0rgaana: mmm….eggs….

JettSuperior:grits and toast and ovaries, yum!

m0rgaana: heh

2 worked it out »

  1. input:

    build your own site from scratch

    its like masturbation without the residue.

  2. Kate S. 6.28.2003


    But, about Blogger? You’re preachin’ to the choir, babe.

    Hopefully they’ll work out all the kinks soon. I know they’re scrambling.


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