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  • 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
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    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.

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    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…

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    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

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    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”

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    2010/09/16 at 4:01 am

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    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.)

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    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

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

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

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    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…

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    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.

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    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

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    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…

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    2010/09/04 at 2:28 am

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    More to come…

    Murv

  • Mistress Of The Flies…

      0 comments
    Part 2 of 2 Continued from: Heellllpp Meeee…

    When we left off with that cliffhanger at the end of part 1 – BTW, don’t you just hate it when I do that? Well, don’t expect it to change anytime soon. (Bwuahahahaha!)

    So, anyway, when we left off I had just skulked into the kitchen to investigate a commotion only to find the Evil Redhead decked out in her “torturin’ togs” and talking to a Popsicle stick. If none of that makes sense, go back and read part 1. If it still doesn’t make sense, join the club. I was having trouble wrapping my head around it too…

    Now… Something else I need to fill you in on… During the latter part of June and early portion of July we had this absolutely INSANE problem with flies. They were everywhere. Inside, outside, around the side, in the back, out front, above, below… We just couldn’t figure it out. I mean, we keep the litter boxes clean, we take out the trash regularly, double bag stuff that might be conducive to fly breeding, etc, ad nauseum. There was no rhyme or reason for it. Still, they were everywhere…

    And so, on with the story…

    I drew up next to the imitation-leather-clad redhead who was holding a Popsicle stick, and peered carefully over her shoulder. After all, she seemed to be talking to an inanimate object and I didn’t want to startle her or anything. However, as I mentioned before, the stick wasn’t quite as empty as I had first thought. In point of fact, it had a sopping wet blowfly attached to the end with whatever fixative redheaded bug dominatrixes use for restraining their subs. However, this particular blowfly didn’t seem to be enjoying its encounter in the least… its hairy little legs were kicking and its wings were flexing as it tried in vain to escape the clutches of my evil wife.

    “I’m going to ask you one more time,” E K demanded, her attention focused on the struggling insect. “Where are all of you little bastards coming from?”

    The fly buzzed something unintelligible, to me at least, as it attempted to work itself free to no avail.

    “The name, rank, and serial number bit isn’t going to fly,” E K mused aloud, then giggled an evil giggle at her own pun. “Remember, you did this to yourself…”

    With that, she turned on the faucet and held the end of the Popsicle stick into the center of the stream of flowing water. After slowly counting to five she twisted the handle and the water stopped running. The fly sputtered and kicked.

    “Ready to talk now, Dick?” E K demanded. “Where is your base of operations? How many of you are there? What are your attack plans? Answer me, dammit!”

    I cleared my throat and asked, “Ummm, honey… Uh… What are you doing?”

    “Enhanced Interrogation,” she replied without breaking attention from the task at hand.

    “You’re waterboarding flies?” I said. “What? Did you call Dick Cheney for pest extermination advice or something?”

    “Hmmph!” she returned. “I called Dick Cheney all right, but not for advice. I told him to shut the hell up.”

    “You’ve been spending too much time on Facebook*.”

    “You set up my page for me as I recall.”

    “Yeah… okay… You’ve got me there.”

    “I’ve always got you.”

    “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

    “I’m always right.”

    “You really don’t have to remind me about that.”

    “Obviously I do.”

    “Yeah… Okay… So back to what you’re doing here… I take it your dislike of the former VP has something to do with why you are calling that fly Dick, and it’s not just some crass reference to male anatomy?”

    “Oh my, aren’t we quick today,” she replied, sarcasm dripping from her words.

    “I try.”

    “Well it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think? Flies are almost as annoying as Dick Cheney. Not quite, but almost. So it just stands to reason.”

    “Yeah… I suppose I can see your point there.”

    “Even so, under the circumstances I think both meanings apply.”

    “Yeah, I had a feeling you might say that.”

    “Talk you little bastard!” she demanded of the waterlogged fly, returning her focus to the interrogation while shaking the Popsicle stick like she was resetting the level on an old mercury thermometer.

    I watched her yelling threats at the insect for a moment then spoke up again. “So, this seems a bit complicated and involved. I mean, if this is about torturing flies, why don’t you just pull their wings off or something? You know, simple stuff like regular sociopaths do…”

    “Because I’m not regular. I’m high octane.”

    “Uh… Yeah.”

    “Besides, I tried that,” she quipped. “They die too quickly and I don’t get any information out of them.”

    “I see…” I nodded and took a few precautionary steps back from her. “So… Just out of curiosity… Mind if I ask why you are so intent on ruthlessly interrogating winged insects all of a sudden?”

    “Because they’ve flown over the line. One of them attacked our daughter last night.”

    “Attacked?”

    “Yes. It kept dive bombing her.”

    “Ahhhh,” I said with a nod yet again. “That would explain why I heard you screaming, “Get away from her, you bitch!‘”

    “Hey, it’s one of my favorite lines from Aliens, and you know it,” she replied. “Besides, it fit the situation and I was channeling my inner Ellen Ripley. If I’d had a flamethrower the damn thing would have been toast, trust me.”

    “I’m sure the folks at 20th Century Fox appreciate your loyalty to the franchise.”

    She turned on the water and shoved the fly into the stream again while saying, “Don’t be sarcastic with me lackey or you’ll be next.”

    “I hate to disappoint you but I’m not really afraid of a Popsicle stick.”

    “You would be if you knew what I was going to do to you with it,” she countered. “But, that doesn’t matter anyway because I also have an 8 foot 2 by 12, an economy size tube of epoxy, and a garden hose.”

    “Oh.”

    “Yeah… I thought that might change your tune.”

    “Okay, so what about the flies? I mean, is this whole interrogation thing actually working?”

    “Of course it is.”

    “So, you know where they are all hiding out?”

    “Absolutely.”

    I pointed to the Popsicle stick in her hand. “Okay… So… Umm… May I ask why you’re still waterboarding that one?”

    “Because it amuses me.”

    “Ahhh… I guess I should have already known that, huh?”

    “Yes, you should have, lackey” she replied. “Just for that, drop and give me twenty.”

    I conceded. “Yes, your evilness.”

    However, before I could drop and give her twenty of whatever it is she wanted – she hadn’t told me what just yet – she whipped around and said, “No. Wait.” Then she handed me the dripping Popsicle stick, and added, “Here. Hold this.”

    No sooner had I taken the fly adorned strip of wood from her than she quickly stalked out of the room without another word, and left the twenty still unnamed.

    “Excuse me… ummm… your evilness,” I called after her. “Mind if I ask where you’re going?”

    She poked her head back through the doorway and replied, “It’s time for operation NO PEST STOMP.”

    The next time I saw the redhead she was in the back yard scooping clouds of buzzing Phaenicia Sericata into a butterfly net, then tossing it on the ground and doing a frantic flamenco dance on top of it. (And believe it or not, I didn’t even fabricate that particular part of this tale… She really did… And then to top it off she showed no remorse. In fact, she complained about getting fly guts on her shoes. Given PETA’s reaction to the President swatting a single fly I figure we’ll be hearing from them soon…)

    But, in the end I guess I can’t complain too much. The fly problem seems to be under control these days, we’ve officially renamed the kitchen “Katmo”, and then there’s that nifty Sci-Fi movie power loader suit thing we have standing in the driveway.

    Of course, something tells me Dick Cheney just isn’t going to shut the hell up no matter how many Facebook groups demand it, and that scares me a little. You see, I have to live under the same roof with E K, and if Dick keeps running off at the mouth and annoying her, she just might end up needing another surrogate to torture since we are now out of flies… What do you want to bet that surrogate will be yours truly?

    And you know, I just checked… She still has that giant tube of epoxy…

    More to come…

    Murv

    * Facebook Fan Page: “Telling Dick Cheney To Shut The Hell Up”