Showing posts with label Big Gay Cliff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Big Gay Cliff. Show all posts

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Back By Popular Demand!

Since a couple of people have asked, to wit:

"WHERE ARE YOU???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????"
(The Mighty Wayne)

and

"What, hath the (Ferg)-o-blog gone tits up.? Nay! Pray say not thus! (by the way, how long does it take you to produce a blog entry?) Hope your day was wonderful."
(JSam)

The short answer is that Real LifeTM, as it so often does, has been interfering with my Fantasy and Intarweb life, which sucks because I much prefer my Fantasy and Intarweb life. Take work, for example. We're currently shorthanded and will be for some time since the Powers That Be (your Gummint) refuse to acknowledge that one either matches the workload to the available staff or increases staff to match the workload. In practical terms this translates into lots of involuntary overtime and ol' G. W. coming home so tired and worn-out and brain-dead that all he wants to do is watch NCIS (love that Abby!*) and House (love a good curmudgeon!) reruns until it's time for bed. Unfortunately, he also has to do other things, normal things, like, I dunno, feed the cat, brush the cat, find the missing cat toys, scoop the kitty litter box, shop for groceries, gas up the car, cook dinner, wash clothes, wash dishes, take out the trash, take the occasional bath, shave the whiskers from off my thorny hide...**

Okay, so there's a bit of Seasonal Affective Disorder involved as well; I'm drag-assing all over the place. This, too, shall pass, but not unlike a kidney stone.

Take-home message: like death, taxes, and Herpes, I'm still here!


* Last night while watching Abby go through her paces I text-messaged a bunch of people with "Why are there no half-naked Goth girls running wild in my apartment?"

Big Gay Cliff: "'Cause I don't have naked skater boys in mine. Next silly question...?"

And then this exchange with Sarah:

Sarah: i dunno. you should ask Jeffie.
G.W.: Why Jeffie?
Sarah: cuz she's the closest thing to a goth girl i know
G.W.: There's Cara. You think we could get the two of them to do a lesbian porno together? The overhead would be low and we'd make a fortune!
Sarah: Jeffy'd do it for the attention. Cara'd do it for a couple of jelly packets and a cup of mayo. This sounds like a plan!
G.W.: Throw in a couple of cans of cake frosting, one for Cara to eat and one for them to smear all over themselves, and we'd be the Kings of Internet Porn!

** That's a really obscure Jimmie Rodgers song reference:
My husband was a logger
There's none like him today.
If you poured a little whiskey upon it
He would eat a bale of hay.

He never shaved the whiskers
From off his thorny hide.
He'd just drive them in with a hammer
And bite them off inside.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

"Cows! They'll NEVER Suspect Cows!"

So it's early Saturday morning and I'm tooling around the IntarWeb, as I'm apt to do, clicking this and copying that, fiddling with Google Notebook, and praying fervently that I won't encounter any Furry Porn (always a risk when reading reddit), when suddenly I hear the little Mozilla Thunderbird double-ding, which means I've got mail.

Mail? Who the hell do I know that's up on a Saturday morning?

Upon further investigation I discovered that Big Gay Cliff (remember Big Gay Cliff? Sure you do!), who must have been up all night doing Big Gay Cliff things had sent me a YouTube link to an animated episode of The Fantastic Four...



...merely to amuse me with the line "Cows! They'll never suspect cows! Idiot!"

Nope, no one ever suspects cows.

Unless you're a fan of Howard the Duck (the comic book, not that reprehensible movie), in which case you know about the Hellcow.