" /> BRAINPAN LEAKAGE » time
  • Viewer Mail…

      0 comments

    In the past I’ve waxed poetic about BLAM (Blog Spam) that shows up in my filter. Rather than bore you with all of that biz yet again, I’m simply going to share with you some of my recent favorites.

    Email addresses, IP’s, and weblinks have been removed. Not to protect anyone. I just don’t want the idiots getting a backlink from me and showing up higher in the search engines…

    Jillian Malnar
    2010/09/18 at 8:56 pm

    Thank you for another fantastic blog. Where else could I get this kind of info written in such an incite full way? I have been looking for such information.

    This was tagged to It Must Be A Yankee Thing… I can only assume that  “Jillian” resides North of the Mason-Dixon, given that I managed to incite her to spam me.

    Merrell Shoes
    2010/09/18 at 5:37 pm

    Finding the best pair of new shoes can be difficult due to the huge number of different pairs of shoes available to buy today. That’s why I almost always look at a huge variety of different pairs before buying.

    At least this one had something to do with shoes since it was tagged to Lackey Gotz A New Pair ‘O Shooz… Unfortunately, I think maybe “Merrell” has a bad case of self-defeating logic going on there…

    Lyme disease
    2010/09/18 at 2:57 pm

    I concept i’d guide and let you realize your sites is useful for unveiled the practical hidden secret.I genuinely love your weblog.In the right way, the article is in real truth the most beneficial on this worth though topic. I concur together with your final thoughts and will desperately appear forward for your coming up-dates. Pretty much saying thanks is not going to just be sufficient, for your dramatic lucidity as part of your text. I will without delay pick up your rss feed to stay informed of any updates.Actual work and significantly good results in your deliver the results and organization endeavors.Automatically always keep up the good work.Thanks a lot.

    Tagged to The Language Of Food… I’ve read this one about 67 times now. All I can think of to say is, “What?” O_o

    thermo blackx
    2010/09/17 at 3:25 am

    you might want to invest in a good spam blocker for this site as it seems it has been hammered to death with spam

    Not sure why this one was tagged to The Idiot’s Guide To Koran Burning… Suffice it to say, apparently my spam blocker is working just fine “Thermo”

    ipad ebooks
    2010/09/16 at 4:01 am

    I absolutely enjoyed reading your blog and rest it both illuminating and interesting. I importune be steadfast to bookmark it and bull-whip it as again as I can.

    Yo, Cap’n… The post you commented on was The “It” Effect… Not the E K Effect. Believe me, you wouldn’t be importuning steadfast bookmarked anything if the evil redhead got hold of you with a bullwhip. (Yes. She not only owns two of them, she is damn near proficient enough with them to snap the nads off a blowfly with one. Srsly.)

    Build Solar Panel
    2010/09/16 at 12:23 am

    Elvis was the greatest vocalist that ever existed. I love all his songs.

    Driving In Saint Louis… Probably would have made more sense if we were driving in Memphis, but what the hell… And, “Greatest Vocalist”? Well… I don’t know about that, but he sure knew his shit when it came to peanut butter and banana sammiches.

    Mauricio Kolacki
    2010/09/14 at 5:33 am

    Hi, I apologize for enquiring this enquiry here, but I couldn’t find a contact form or something so I assumed I could I leave my enquiry here. I run a blogengine blog but I am receiving large amounts of spam. I see u use wordpress, is it uncomplicated to control spam with wordpress or doesn’t it make any difference? I hope you will respond to my comment or maybe send me an email with your answer if you don’t want to approve the comment. Best regards, Annie

    Oddly appropriate that this was tagged to I Do Not Think It Means… After all, she just keeps using that word

    online merchant account
    2010/09/14 at 1:09 am

    Blogging keeps me insane. Keep up all the positive work. I too love to blog. I found this one to be very informative 🙂

    Tagged to It’s A Conspiracy I Tell You… Yeah. It keeps me insane too.

    speed dome camera
    2010/09/13 at 12:23 pm

    By a long shot, one of the best article l have come across on this valuable subject. I quite go along with with your assumptions and will thirstily look forward to your future updates.

    Tagged to Rowan Gant Investigations E-Books… Here’s a buck. Go buy yourself a soda.

    Matthew C. Kriner
    2010/09/13 at 5:04 am

    Web site is very nice but the theme of your site from the top of the slide there. Correct box unchecked if you are very beautiful

    Tagged to Who Is This, And How Did You Get In My Computer? PART 1. Me, not so much. I unchecked the correct box for E K…

    Dominatrix
    2010/09/08 at 10:52 am

    Please write a lot more about domina and bdsm I adore the topic and this publish was actually helpful to understand

    Tagged to Coming Soon To A Blog Near You… Tell ya’ what. How about if I just post a bunch of pictures of E K. Trust me, you’ll get plenty of “Domina” from them.

    PTZ IP Camera
    2010/09/06 at 1:04 am

    You precisely saved me atleast 1 hour of time. I am making a project in this particular topic and your contribute has helped me through one of the topics of my project. I will browse to the other pages now.

    Tagged to Mahwage: Love At First Sight… Precisely at least? Dude, you should have posted this one on I Do Not Think It Means…

    WOW Gold Guide
    2010/09/19 at 11:17 pm

    Could used friends tell me more about it?

    Tagged to E K Is A Real Pain In My Ass… We’re talking about the Evil Redhead here “Goldie”… Those would be used and abused friends…

    Electronic Cigarettes
    2010/09/20 at 7:51 am

    I like this website and it has given me a bit of desire to succeed, so keep up the good work. =)

    Tagged to E K Is A Real Pain In My Ass… Again, we’re talking Evil Redhead. She’s a pretty good motivator, especially when she pins things to your ass with a lapel pin.

    And now, for my all time favorite. This was tagged to Where’s The Fork? and I almost went ahead and approved it to post simply because the opening sentence is so damned creative… Unfortunately, it just sort of falls apart after that…

    free winnie the pooh christmas coloring pages
    2010/09/04 at 2:28 am

    I’m currently being held for ransom by the Chinese mafia -xmas, christmas, santa- and being forced to post spam comments on everywhere! If you wont approve this they will eat me. -jingle bells, christmas music- They are coming back now. -one horse open sleigh, christmas gifts, christmas music- Please call someone! -xmas jokes, christmas morning, christmas carol- 🙂 but seriously, just trying to make a buck and help others in the process. Help me help you and your audience by taking a gander at a great way to get paid for taking online surveys and make a few bucks for this upcoming Christmas season. Hope this one was at least a bit entertaining. Original credit to a much more original marketer than myself.Best thing I’ve found as of late!

    More to come…

    Murv

  • When Porcelain Attacks…

      0 comments

    Even without my glasses I could see that one of the bulbs in the fluorescent fixture overhead was burned out. Yes, it was sort of a blur, but I’m not entirely blind. Close, but not entirely.

    So, even with the world being fuzzy around the edges, and even fuzzier in the middle, it was obvious that the bulb was not glowing as it should. In fact, it stared back at me, a dull gray-white tube with blackened ends. The companion bulb, clipped tightly into the contacts on the other side of the ballast cover, was flickering in a rapid staccato. An orange intensity was pulsing at one end, and the whole fixture hummed. A sure sign that it would soon go dark as well.

    But I really wasn’t worried about that. Daylight was streaming into the high windows, and besides, this wasn’t the only light. There were several more. Not to mention, I had more important worries.

    Now, I have to admit. The dead bulb in the ceiling fixture was not something I would have noticed right off. I don’t usually make a habit of staring at high ceilings for no apparent reason, but then at this particular moment I was lying on my back, which made a significant difference in my point of view. The cold, damp concrete was leeching any semblance of warmth from me, but I wasn’t in a big hurry to move. At least, not until I figured out what had just happened. So, until that answer was no longer eluding me,  I decided staring at the ceiling was the appropriate thing to do.

    An inventory of my senses was enough to tell me that I wasn’t severely injured. Either that, or I was dealing with a concussion and was misinterpreting the various simple aches and pains.

    Just for the hell of it, I groaned.

    I heard myself groan. In fact, I even heard it echo off the cinder block walls.

    Apparently my ears were still working. That was a good sign.

    I continued to stare at the hazy light fixture above me as it winked through its death throes, and wondered if I maybe was doing the same. Life imitating machinery and all that jazz. I decided I probably wasn’t, because I simply didn’t have time for it right now. Besides, my  pajama britches were down around my ankles, and while I don’t have a very big shoe size, what endowment I did have was pretty much on display. I really wasn’t good with dying in such a state.

    I muttered, “Fuck me…” in a long, drawn out breath. Then I said it again, just for good measure. Then it dawned on me that I could be inviting disaster if I wasn’t alone in here.

    Fortunately, it turned out that I was. Alone, that is.

    Closing my eyes I tried to remember just how it was I came to be sprawled out on the wet, concrete floor of a combination bathroom – shower house in rural, coastal Virginia.

    The sharp smell of pine cleaner was carving its initials inside my nasal passages, and in a very real sense I was grateful for that. The odor combined with the dampness of the floor told me it had been mopped very recently. Given that this was a bathroom there were much worse things I could be laying in. I also happened to know from experience that the lady who cleaned the shower house was unbelievably thorough. In fact, everyone called her the Bathroom Nazi.

    What seemed like a good quarter of an hour had passed by now. In reality it had been more like a quarter of a minute. Seriously. It’s utterly amazing how time slows down when you are in a bizarre situation.

    I decided to go ahead and carefully push myself up, then rise to my feet.  My glasses were around here somewhere, and the last thing I needed to do was crush them. The rolling about and finding footing was quite a task with my britches around my ankles, but I managed to do it without hearing the sickly crunch of $600 no-line bi-focals turning into $600 trash. I straightened and then untangled my pajamas and pulled them up. At least now that particular issue was addressed. Or, should I simply say dressed? Either way, Wee Willy Winkie and the twins were back where they belonged.

    With a sigh, I turned, then reached out and pulled open the spring loaded door to the toilet stall in front of me. A familiar looking blur on the floor  immediately in front of me caught my eye, so I stooped and picked up my glasses. They didn’t appear to be any worse for wear, so I slid them onto my face. Now the world came into focus.

    Before me was a gleaming white porcelain throne. It had been scrubbed within an inch of its life, as had the floor. The ultra-sanitary condition of the stool was a good thing, because floating in it were my shaving kit, and a rolled wad of fabric that constituted my fresh change of clothes. My towel was dangling precipitously from the tank.

    I stepped in and rescued the towel, then fished my clothing and shaving kit out. Fortunately, I had more clothing back in my camper, and the shaving kit was safely ensconced in a sealed Ziploc bag – all part of my anal retentive packing routine after having a bottle of shampoo leak all over the inside of my suitcase.

    It was as I steadied myself against the tank while retrieving my soaked belongings that all of the pieces fell into place. You see, the moment I put even the slightest amount of weight against the toilet tank, it rocked backwards. Now, when I say it rocked backwards, I mean it rocked several inches backwards. The proverbial light went off over my head – no, not the actual fluorescent one, I’m talking about the figurative one. I finished pulling my things from the bowl, then pressed lightly on the seat. As it had done when I touched the tank, it rocked, but this time it rocked forward. In fact, it rocked forward twice as many inches as it had rocked backward. A second or two later it began to right itself, seeking some sort of center.

    I turned in place and looked at the gap beneath the door.

    Mathematical calculations rushed through my sluggish brain, trajectories drew themselves against imagined graphs, and I had my elusive answer. Upon entering I had headed for a stall to execute my daily business prior to my shower. It just happened to be stall number 2. I don’t know why… Maybe it was because I had to do number 2. But maybe not. Because I also had to do number 1, so I probably should have gone to stall number 3. But, if I had, I probably wouldn’t have this story to tell.

    Anyway, upon entering the stall I had placed my folded towel, then my rolled up clothing, and then my shower kit securely and solidly upon the top of the large tank. I noticed when I did so that the toilet had a bit of a slant toward the back wall, but it wasn’t like I was going to spend much time there, so I thought nothing of it. Besides, with a backward slant, all of my stuff would be sliding AWAY from danger, not toward it, if you know what I mean.

    In keeping with standard convention, I dropped my drawers, what with that being the easiest way to go about doing one’s business. I lowered myself onto the stool and felt it pitch rapidly forward like a mechanical bull in a roadhouse. Seriously.

    The next thing I knew I saw the bottom of the stall door flash past my eyes as it headed in a northerly direction, or so I thought.  As it turns out, it was me doing the traveling, and I was heading south. After that, the world was pretty much a blur. Well, all except for the burned out light fixture on the ceiling, and as I said, it was pretty fuzzy too.

    That wasn’t the last time I appeared as an author/guest speaker at that event. It was, however, the last time I used the second stall in the men’s shower room.

    More to come…

    Murv