Eblo

There's got to be a better way. . . .

Fark!

I was just working on my most link-tastic entry to date, nearing completion of full-on ramble, and goddammotherfrigginnutscrape has to go and live up to its name. Piss. Me. Off.

I've never trusted web interfaces for editing. Why did I let MT persuade me to let my guard down? Bastards. I'm going to compose this pig in joe and paste it over. Screwed up line-wraps be damned!

I'll try to recover. Now what was I saying?

The title of this entry reminds me of the chorus from "Drunken Butterfly," one of the only Sonic Youth songs I ever liked:

I love you, I love you, I love you.
What's your name?

Poor, poor Heather. Poor, poor guitar. I think I'd said something else here, but I forget what. I know it lead into these thoughts: No, I don't just trackback to picturepicture in an attempt to leech some readers off of her. How could you even suggest such a thing? Ok, so this time, maybe that was my intention, but the first time, I was just testing out trackbacks. But why should I feel guilty? After all, that's why trackbacks were invented and implemented, right? You scratch my back, I'll send people over to look at yours? And I liked the post. So there.

It also doesn't help that Heather's is the only other blog I follow. What else would I link to? After all, who has time to read blogs when one is trying to write one with a failing browser and all? Though if my darling wife would take a sexy naked fat guy's advice, I'm sure I'd read hers too.

Though just because I don't read many blogs doesn't mean I can't link to them, right? I mean after all, my best friend got her navel pierced with this girl whose former college and post-college roomate's former college roomate's former college roomate's wife's brother is this guy, who has this blog. I think I might read it if I had more time. And didn't mind the occasional baseball post.

Warning! Trying to listen to his MP3 is what crashed my browser! I'm not at all saying not to listen to his stuff, just don't be working on anything you like at the time.

Anyway, that's as far as I'd gotten before, and that's as far as I'm getting now. I meant to tell you about the stray Benji dog I helped wrangle today. And my life in thin-net networking hell (yup, BNC's and coax). But I won't.

Instead, I'll try to post this puppy, before my battery runs out on my lapt