Nada, take 2

Yeah, about the lack of blogging. Just catching up on some worky type stuff at work and some sledge-hammery type stuff at home. Anyway, more posts soon. I sorta almost promise. Like when your dad promised you a pony, except I really mean it.

In the meantime...

1. To Alberta, I say: You want respect? Okay, we respect you. Your oil is the oiliest. Now quit whining and spot us a few Ralph Bucks.
2. To Stockwell Day I say: Chilling, isn't it, to think of the countless thousands of good people that must have died in the jaws of these monsters? The humanity, my God, the humanity!
3. To the Holmes-Cruise child, I say: Welcome to the world. Sorry about your parents. Er, and your President.

Later. Go Sens!

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This is nothing, really

To twist the words inscribed on Stockwell Day's favourite pewter bookmark, let me say this: Seven days with no blogging makes one weak.

Not Horshack from 'Welcome Back Kotter' weak, but pretty weak. Think of an accountant who just gave blood but said no to the cookies and oj. Yeah, so that's the level of energy I bring to the blogosphere right now.

So, in the interest of putting you all on notice that I am not completely dead, I give you the tried and true non-post post. Or...

TOP 8 REASONS WHY I HAVEN'T BEEN BLOGGING MUCH LATELY

8. Belinda's decision to not seek the Liberal leadership hit me really hard, and Peter MacKay's potato patch doesn't have WiFi access.

7. I think I might have cut off a Bandido on the 407 a couple of years back. I'm keeping a low profile until it blows over.

6. My conditioner bottle said "rinse, repeat". It didn't say how many times.

5. My campaign to draft John McCallum is floundering. (And after I blew $19.95 on a sweet domain name.)

4. Enriching uranium is harder than you'd think. (Gholam Reza Aghazadeh -- complete asshole to work for.)

3. Well, it's all very complicated. You see, Scofield can't remember parts of the prison schematics where his tattoo got burned off, and the Warden transferred him to solitary because he wouldn't answer questions about the bit of guard's uniform found embedded in his wound, leaving Sucre to conceal the hole in the guard's break room. Are you following me?

2. Priorities, man. That turkey pepperoni's not going to eat itself.

And the number one reason I haven't been blogging much lately...

1. I'll put in more effort when the Canucks do.


Real posts to follow. Eventually.

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And maybe I wasn't joking about the Harper-Coulter Motel 6 photos

Has the dust settled? Keee-ryst!

After five months of busting my bony white ass trying to write semi-amusing shit for this blog on a semi-regular basis, I had cultivated a readership consisting of a handful of sorta regulars and the odd horny guy who accidentally got here by Googling 'scarlet johanson breast'.

Then, on a lark, I do a half-assed photoshop job of two dudes trading spit and... kazowy! Traffic goes from sad to -- um, whatever 16 times more than sad is -- overnight.

Which probably says something. Like maybe: "A picture is worth a thousand words." Or: "Comedy is the art of the unexpected." Or: "Less funny talk, blog bitch, more man-on-man action!"

Oh, yeah. Did I mention that my traffic has gone back to sad?

Which is fine. I'm good with that. But I shudder at what lengths I'd have to go to for another spike in hits.

(...Now, let's see, if Her Majesty's PVC 12-buckled corset is candy apple red, should her the harness for her strap-on dildo match? And what about His Holiness' lipstick?)

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We'll always have Cancun