BlogFestivus – The Recap
BlogFestivus 2012 is now officially in the history books!
I’d like to thank our illustrious leader, Blogdramedy, for coming up with this fantastic idea! Now we drink. There’s rum in the eggnog, right? And raw eggs?
God bless us every one!
Like Santa on steroids I will be coming around to visit all BlogFestivus participants and share my special kind of love, but I can’t promise I’ll do it all in one night. I’m looking forward to reading all nine reindeer stories from every single person who played along.
This year’s BlogFestivus was a smashing success. My blog felt the love and I met a lot of wonderful people.
I’ve had very little time of late, but I was able to visit some of you and I liked what I saw. Good stuff! If you missed BlogFestivus, I highly recommend taking a look. In our household we also plan to engage in more traditional Festivus activities such as “The Airing of Grievances” and “Feats of Strength.”
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End Times: Strange Phenomenon #photography
Today I offer two photographs for your consideration. Two shots from Takerville that prove the End Times are nigh upon us. Shot one is entitled Invading Cloud and the other is called Colorful Death Ray.
Don’t look unless you are mentally prepared to deal with the ramifications. The rest of you can keep your heads buried in the sand like always.
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Word Association Demonstration
With righteous indignation and without provocation, I will strive to cause vexation in response to your supplication.
Damnation?
Exclamation!
I shall swallow irritation to cause infuriation, exasperation, and with any luck, a pulsation of altercation.
Thanks for witnessing this commination demonstration.
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Flash Friction: Marshmallow Armageddon

Not all marshmallows burn in the fire. Some end up here.
I noticed a trend. My posts filled with vile hate and bitterness haven’t been getting much love. I thought to thine own self I was supposed to remain true? I think what Shakespeare must have meant was to try that, at least until the comments start to go down. So this morning I woke up resolute and ready to do something different. I was going to write something happy, uplifting and full of joy. The following piece of Flash Friction is the result. Enjoy! –Ed
It was a day that started much like any other. My friends and I were chilling, as always, in The Bag.
Things with the wife were in a state of flux. I wasn’t quite as stay puft as I used to be. Of late the relationship was getting a bit stale.
Like often happens in times of melancholy, I found myself in my special place. I admit I was feeling a bit roasted. It was the far corner of The Bag and the place where the Holy Ingredients were listed. I’d been here so many times I’d long since memorized them all, and my eyes had long ago adjusted to the backwards printing.
… sugar … corn syrup … water … gelatin … dextrose … vanilla flavorings …
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The end of the world as we know it
This morning I woke up, just like I usually do. (I say “usually” because sooner or later there will be a day I don’t, but that’s another story.)
In the kitchen I sensed something was awry. It took a minute, but then I found it.
The microwave was blinking, rather angrily it felt like. It was blinking the word “END” over and over again.
I immediately took this as an omen. “The end is near,” I thought. “This does not portend well.”
I couldn’t resist the urge to stand there and gaze upon the thing before hitting the “clear” button. The thing had, apparently, been blinking “end” all night long. It was simply doing the job it was programmed to perform. I looked but nothing was inside. It must have been the result from its most recent task where the entire microwave was used as the world’s most expensive kitchen timer. I could only assume that the timed event had come and gone without great tragedy.
Lucky for us we didn’t use the timer on the oven or it would have been beeping reminders all night long. At least the microwave does it silently.
Still, it was enough to get me thinking. Here was a piece of technology that was only trying to help. Or scare the shit out of me.
On the other hand…
I’m the proud owner of a car that is possessed with a peculiar quirk. Ostensibly it’s a security feature of some kind, no doubt intended to prevent the theft of the vehicle.
But I know what it really is. It’s a gift sent from the nether regions of Hell to torment me on this plane of existence. A job it performs only too well.
The car can only be started with one key. (God help me if I ever lose that key. That’ll be a $500 mistake. Read on.) That key has a resistor built into it. Any attempt to start the car where the resistor is not properly detected results in the a message from Satan (see picture above) being displayed. As far as I know, there is no force in the known universe that can change that outcome for the next 180 seconds of my life.
Can you even imagine? You have someplace to go and here you are stuck in your car and forced to wait three interminable minutes. The only thing you can do is remove the key, re-insert it, and hope that it works on the next try.
This has happening to me for something like a year now. Sometimes this problem happens twice in a row. Or three times in a row. Or more! The current record is six in a row. That’s 18 minutes of my life gone that I’ll never get back.
I’d sure like to meet the person who invented this “feature” and give him a good look at this key. A very close look. Like through the back of his retina and beyond.
Never again in my life will I buy a vehicle without checking for “features” like these or any others I can possibly imagine. If a salesperson recommends a car with a feature like this I’ll take a test drive over his head. But even so, no doubt they’ll find other ways to get me. Remember the old days when you only had to worry about the mechanics of your vehicle? Why in the hell would you introduce another piece into the mix, a piece that, just like everything else on the car, is guaranteed to fail at some point in time?
I talked to the repair shop at the local authorized dealer. They said the feature can’t be disabled. I call bullshiats on that! Instead, they recommended I pay close to $500 to have the entire ignition stuff replaced which would also include a shiny new key. I’ve tried really hard and I can’t imagine any possible motivation for why they’d tell me a feature in their car can’t be disabled. Meh.
Being stuck in your car because of a design flaw when you have somewhere to be is one of the most frustrating and helpless feelings in the entire world. I know because that’s my daily existence.
But that’s just the way I roll. Or not, as the case may be.
Perhaps I know what the microwave was trying to say after all…
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