What happened last night was this. I spent a considerable number of hours seething with furious dictator-like hatred of all manner of dreadful bloogs.....bloogs such as Life and everything that goes along with it; bloogs such as Scrap Happy Mama and dj_chris 2005; bloogs on the order of My Rhapsody Op. 20 where, according to Dingying, paranoia monastically blooms according to my modus operandi; bloogs aching with the unbearable sadness of The Falcon's Nest and other family-oriented bloogs just like it. It was a rampage of ferocious hate....I fancied myself to be much like that nutbag that runs N. Korea. So I would up with what amounted to about 4-5 hours of vicious criticism....some, if not most of it, richly deserved.

But when I went to publish it. Something went awry.

I must have hit a wrong key because when I went to view my bloog, all that appeared was the title you see above. NONE of the diatribe was published. What irritated me most about it was that when you waste that much time on a pursuit of dubious distinction, one would like to at least sit back and take some pride in the accomplishment.

Alright....I'm begging the question.

And since I got all that furious hate out of my little drunks fists last night, I really feel no particular need to pummel such bloogs as i blog, why not?(pick a language and stick with it!) and surly pump monkey(pick a template that says surly and not sissy tree-hugging Leprachaun!) into the oblivion they so richly deserve. I feel no compelling urge to point out that ______finding my way ard..........:: -winkz- :: is neither very readable nor very clever. And no, I shall naught say a thing about [J]eSuS_FaVouRiTe.

So that's a little bit about last night.

Tonight was more about the Bud Shootout which was won by Jimmie Johnson. I was hoping Busch, Newman or Biff would pull it out, but Johnson held them off to gain the win. This is the best time of the year for me. Speedweeks. The start of the racing season. The Daytona 500. I'm getting my fantasy NASCAR teams together and I can't wait for a week from Sunday. 7 days, 13 hours , 32 minutes , 13 seconds from now as I typer this.

Mood: Sullen & Boogity Boogity Boogity Let's Go Racin' Boys....
Beer: LAKEFRONT BREWERY Cream City Pale Ale
Music: "Two Little Hitlers" by Elvis Costello & The Attractions
posted by Michael Smith at 11:28 PM

I wonder if I even have it in me to summon up enough spite and hate and gleeful viciousness to do this tonight. Normally, I would be all over something like Oh, My Lost! or House of Glass. But not just now. Not just yet. Not tonight.

Perhaps I'm merely underwhelmed. I was up visiting my daughter and her husband this weekend up in Forest Lake, Minnesota. And it should have been a jubilant time, but it wasn't jubilant. It was curiously unremarkable.....time well spent, mind you....but it was merely spending time. I could just as easily have spent the entire weekend on the Empire Builder and rode out to Montana or Spokane and back---in fact, that might have been a bit more jubilant. And no, I will not explain why. If you want chronicles of personal sorrows, well....there's always The Goober Queen and her Gooberishness; there are Asian Idols, which reeks of utter sadness; and then there is Site For Your Eyes and a thousand other ones like it which proves once and for all what a picture is oftimes worth.

Also, I'm not about to do a heretic burning and snake roast of all the bloogs that use the same Pastel Communist design that Personal Injury Advice uses. Bloogs like eveningschool, for example, and many others. Not tonight. Save it for another terrible day.

But as blase as I am, I not above or beneath uttering a resounding JESUS CHRIST when I see something like that70show which is puking with enthusiams, spirit and verve. Also, the blokes who do HOUSE77 VERSION 2.0..... are somewhat funny, so I have a momentary smile. However, I will pass on all the rest.

I guess I dont have it in me. Everything is like pastel versions of the real thing. only not as pretty. My time could be better spent crying myself to sleep over episodes of Marmalade Boy. I suppose I will go do that. Or something similar to that, right now. And so should you.

Mood: Sullen & Phlegmatic
Beer: TYRANENA Bitter Woman IPA
Music: "Back In My Home Town" by Frank Hutchinson

posted by Michael Smith at 9:50 PM