Myspace Layouts, Cursors &
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Myspace Layouts, Cursors & Myspace html! Notify Blogger about objectionable content. What does this mean? BlogThis! Myspace Layouts, Cursors & Myspace html! Myspace Layouts « Home New Myspace Graphics Community comeing ONLINE SOON! » Myspace 3 hottest website ON THE INTERNET! » NEW MYSPACE MUSIC GET up to 8 EXTRA PHOTOS! » The New Myspace Help Website is takeing off. » Myspace Glow Text » New Myspace games » New myspace help website up! » Mysoace Cursor Generator up and running » Just a little bit of Myspace History » Takeing simple myspace html and layouts to a whole new level! » New Myspace Graphics Community comeing ONLINE SOON! Published Tuesday, December 06, 2005 by Myspace Html. Finnaly after weeks of looking i have found a new myspace graphics content management mod. Its great, it lets me and my users upload pictures to our server and use our generator to get the correct codes needed for the picture! check it out at http://www.myspace-help.com Myspace 3 hottest website ON THE INTERNET! Published Thursday, November 24, 2005 by Myspace Html. MySpace is Third Hottest Web Destination Online IT News Online Staff 2005-11-20 According to comScore Media Metrix, MySpace.com, the lifestyle portal, has surpassed eBay, AOL and Google to become the third ranked Web domain in terms of page views. MySpace, a place where people put their lives online, and connect and communicate around common interests, had more than 11.5 billion page views last month and is growing by an average of 150,000 new members daily. "Our users come to MySpace to manage their everyday lives, from staying in touch with friends, to discovering new trends and entertainment," said Chris DeWolfe, chief executive officer, MySpace.com. "Now advertisers and the business community are eager to see where we'll go and we have plenty of content announcements and expansion plans coming down the pipeline that are sure to exceed the expectations of both our users and partners." According to Nielsen//NetRatings, MySpace had more than 24 million unique users for the month of October and targets a core demographic of 16-34 year olds. The site has also been named as "third hottest web destination online" by AdWeek. "MySpace has evolved the way people are communicating online and 37 million people have already created their own communities," said Tom Anderson, president, MySpace.com. "The site's impact on users is undeniable, and it's been exciting to watch MySpace's cultural impact on our users' lives." The site delivers original entertainment content that members can both create and discover. More than 660,000 bands have created profiles, uploaded music, listed tour dates and connected with fans on MySpace. Last week, MySpace announced that it was streaming never-before-heard confessions from Madonna for her latest album, "Confessions on a Dancefloor". The company also released its first album, "MySpace Records Compilation CD: Volume I." MySpace.com is a lifestyle portal that integrates Web profiles, blogs, instant messaging, email, music streaming, music videos, photo galleries, classified listings, events, groups, college communities and user forums. NEW MYSPACE MUSIC GET up to 8 EXTRA PHOTOS! Published Thursday, November 10, 2005 by Myspace Html. Order Myspace Records, Volume 1 from Tower.com between now and November 15th and you'll get EIGHT EXTRA PHOTOS in your Myspace profile! Everyone who purchases Myspace Records, Volume 1 will get a voucher they can mail in to activate four extra photos in their Myspace profiles. Tower.com is the only place where you can quickly unlock an extra four photos online for a total of EIGHT extra photos! Less waiting means you can show yourself off quicker. Plus, you get a rad CD for less than ten bucks. How awesome is that? Repost this bulletin and tell your friends so they can unlock their photos too! Order your copy of Myspace Records, Volume 1 from Tower.com and unlock your EIGHT extra profile photos right away! The New Myspace Help Website is takeing off. Published Wednesday, November 09, 2005 by Myspace Html. as of today my newest website Myspace-Help.com has reached 1000 people a day with a total of around 25,000 unique people. Thats Huge for me. Im very happy that people are able to find my website and acctully use it to do something i love to do my self. Make a pimp myspace layout with the codes that can be found on my site myspace help dot com. Ive been working lately on getting the most recent and easy to use myspace html codes for the site so people can use them. As of right now the newest additions to my site are the Myspace Falling Hearts or Objects Generator, Music and Video Generator, Picture Marquee and Glow Text Generators, Opened up the Myspace Contact Tables section so now everyone can use them. I worked relly hard on the contact table part also. Spent hours working the code so it was easy to use. all you need to do is click the contact table you want and it hands the code over to you instently and easy for you to copy and paste on your myspace. Up next. Myspace Online now codes. Myspace Glow Text Published Sunday, November 06, 2005 by Myspace Html. Created a new myspace generator today. It makes creating Glow text much easyer and it looks great. First insert the Glow color, the Text color, the Text size, and What text you want to glow then copy the code generated and bam there you go. You can post the codes on a friends comment also! check it out at MYSPACE-HELP.COM New Myspace games Published Monday, October 31, 2005 by Myspace Html. For the past couple of games ive been addicted to a small flash game called snake. its made by minigames its pretty fun. Its like playing a way better version of the once addicting Nokia version of snake . I uploaded it to my site www.Myspace-help.com so you can go there and check it out. New myspace help website up! Published Wednesday, October 19, 2005 by Myspace Html. My website www.Pillagers.com its doing great. Its not anyware close to the greatest myspace sites out there YET but soon to be. I havent had time to work on the content of my site lately because..... i registerd Myspace-Help.com ! ive spent the last week recodeing and putting up a new design for myspace help so that i can finnaly get back on track to placeing tons of myspace layouts and html codes back into the site. Withing a month i know i can accomplish what i have been looking for. A Myspace site that can anser any question you could have. A site with Everything you could ever need for myspace from Html codes to How to place those myspace html codes in there proper place. Im relly looking forward to some time off so i can get to work on the Myspace Layouts and Online Now codes section i want to put up. Also makeing Myspace Generators so its alot easyer for people to get the correct html codes they need. So if you are looking for the best place to find myspace Html look here! Http://www.Myspace-help.com About me I'm Myspace Html From My profile Last posts New Myspace Graphics Community comeing ONLINE SOON! Myspace 3 hottest website ON THE INTERNET! NEW MYSPACE MUSIC GET up to 8 EXTRA PHOTOS! The New Myspace Help Website is takeing off. Myspace Glow Text New Myspace games New myspace help website up! Mysoace Cursor Generator up and running Just a little bit of Myspace History Takeing simple myspace html and layouts to a whole new level! Archives October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 Links Myspace Html Codes, Myspace Cursors Edit me! Edit me! ATOM 0.3
MySpace Skin
MyGen 2.5 - MySpace Profile Creator/Editor/Generator :: View topic - Flash player skin. Where to find it? Home Create Profile Pre-made Profiles Contact Tables Generators Tutorials Log me on automatically each visit Register Log in to check your private messages MyGen.co.uk - MySpace Profile Generator Sponsored Links MyGen.co.uk Forum Index » Flash Flash player skin. Where to find it? View previous topic :: View next topic Author Message DrkShadowSonic Posts: 4 Posted: Sunday 04th December 9:06pm Post subject: Flash player skin. Where to find it? Does anyone know where to find skin for this flash player? http://mygen.co.uk/index.php?page=tutorials§ion=flashplayer1 Back to top calimusicfeind Posts: 1 Posted: Sunday 04th December 11:56pm Post subject: .fla (im not lazy) the flash player seems to have spread quicly but i havent found any skins either. if some one has the .fla file (the flash file it was made with) i would be glad to try and make a couple of skins!!! im not 2 good with codeing, im better at the design aspect. Back to top Malicah Posts: 1 Posted: Wednesday 28th December 12:26pm Post subject: The flash player already allows filters, to view them go here To change the filter simply change the code where it says: <EMBED style="FILTER: none " change the word in red with one below The filters are in order as they are shown on the website - none - xray - gray - progid:dximagetransform.microsoft.emboss - progid:dximagetransform.microsoft.engrave - fliph - flipv - alpha(opacity=50) I would still like to see more stuff done with this flash player though, maybe a way to add a shuffle feature, or how to make a random song start each time, and maybe some actual skins for it. Back to top DrkShadowSonic Posts: 4 Posted: Wednesday 28th December 4:55pm Post subject: none of those work with Firefox Back to top blinkowns182 Posts: 6 Posted: Thursday 29th December 3:37am Post subject: none of those even work in IE. lol. how do they work??? Back to top rosscoe11 Posts: 50 Posted: Thursday 29th December 6:03am Post subject: i no i dont even see this in my code <EMBED style="FILTER: none ?? Back to top juan_two_three Posts: 15 Posted: Monday 02nd January 11:01pm Post subject: hey, calimusicfeind. where would i find the .fla file? and what program would you use to edit it in? Back to top diamondandy Posts: 1010 Location: Liverpool, England Posted: Monday 02nd January 11:27pm Post subject: macromedia flash mx is the program best used for editing .fla files i got zip files with the .fla files on my pc which i will have to hunt out for you _________________ Back to top turtlefan Posts: 48 Location: Sunny California! Posted: Monday 02nd January 11:51pm Post subject: Actually I think Flash 8 is a bigillion times better than mx studios. _________________ Eternal Skate Team: xrl.us/9999 Back to top diamondandy Posts: 1010 Location: Liverpool, England Posted: Tuesday 03rd January 12:10am Post subject: i have Flash 8, but i know a lot of people who prefer MX and it was the first one that stuck to mind lol _________________ Back to top pvtpyro Posts: 1 Posted: Tuesday 03rd January 1:03pm Post subject: http://groups.myspace.com/flashplayers the group got deleted on accident, but its back up now. there's a ton of skins for several flash players. not all are posted yet, we're still rebuilding the group. check it out. Back to top Display posts from previous: All Posts 1 Day 7 Days 2 Weeks 1 Month 3 Months 6 Months 1 Year Oldest First Newest First MyGen.co.uk Forum Index » Flash All times are GMT Page 1 of 1 Jump to: Select a forum MyGen Announcements ---------------- News & Announcements MySpace Profile Help Forums ---------------- Profile Layout Images Music Videos Flash Other HTML/CSS Help MySpace Profile Help MyGen Forums ---------------- MyGen Support Suggestions/Comments MyGen Bugs Contact Tables Everything Else ---------------- Rate My Profile! Anything Goes! You cannot post new topics in this forum You cannot reply to topics in this forum You cannot edit your posts in this forum You cannot delete your posts in this forum You cannot vote in polls in this forum This page was created in 0.932 seconds Powered by phpBB 2.0.11 © 2001, 2002 phpBB Group Portal Code & Design by Rob Hall
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Pimp Junta My Thoughts on Feet January 4th, 2006 by John Brownlee I’ve often heard girls say that they judge men by their shoes. That women pay so much attention to the feet of a man has never made much sense to me. This is like judging a man by his armpit. Actually, it’s worse – I’ve seen the attractive armpit or two in my time. But what are feet if not mottled, misshapen clumps of flesh crammed into reeking coffins of leather? Feet are what your hands would look like if all the bones in them were repeatedly broken every six weeks with a brick. Disgusting. Such is my loathing of the foot that there’s only two types of girls I would never date. One: fatties. Two: those who paint their toenails. Girls - painting your toenails is like applying lipstick to your anus. Don’t do it. The Chinese, with their foot binding, had the right idea – minimize these revolting appendages to offset evolution’s blind, ignorant fondness for them. Because of my revulsion, I try to pay as little attention to my feet as possible and so, over the years, I have developed a rather hardy set myself. Whether it was walking barefoot through a foot of snow to my neighbor’s house as a youth, or shrugging off the spray of gore resulting from stepping on a piece of jagged ceramic – the end result is a steady regime of consistent abuse has resulted in their near nigh-invulnerability. To me, shoes are a social nicety which I resent. Coming home in the evening, my greatest joy is to kick off the sweaty foot coffins and give the boys some air. Like my future wife, I am happiest both barefoot and in my kitchen. The other day, I was walking home in what was once a chic pair of black leather loafers when I passed a shoe cobbler. This caused me to ruminate and look down at the poor puppies below my ankles. The left shoe had a large gash in the side. In the hollowed heels of both, numerous trapped pebbles and tiny glass shards rattled. The soles, partially disconnected from the shoe proper, made exasperating farting-like noises when I walked. Unlike underpants, I tend to wear shoes until decomposition. But I decided to go in and see if all these pedimentary traumas could be repaired anyway. The cobbler assured me that they could be if only I were to leave my shoes with him. So I made what I thought was a common-sense decision: I took off my shoes, handed them to him, and began walking the five minutes back to my house in my socks. Within fifty yards, I’d already been stopped by the Gardai. “Ey! Wud’s oll dis den?” the copper ejaculated, pointing down with his walkie talkie at my shoeless feet. I scowled up at him defiantly. Recently, I’ve felt the Dublin police have been getting too big for their britches. I blame the uniform change: previously, every member of the Dublin Gardai wore a uniform comprised of khaki and puke green, overlaid with a fluorescent traffic vest. True, it was attire more appropriate for a parking garage attendant than a metropolitan enforcer of law and order, but the police at least walked around looking suitably abashed by the trouble they were causing you , the criminal. That’s the way it should be. Now, though, they have imported all their police uniforms straight from Paris and walk around with a pompous and lugubrious impugnity. This has caused the members of the seedy Dublin underworld to christen them “Potato-humping frog bacon”. “What, it’s illegal to walk around without shoes in this ridiculous Mickey Mouse country?” I exclaimed. He scowled and started jabbing me with his thumb. “Led’s see yer passport.” I didn’t have my passport on me, so I was dragged away to Gardai headquarters, yelping Rodney king quotes and the phrase “Five-Oh, yote!” over my shoulder the entire journey. These utterings failed to find cultural resonance. Anyway, it’s a long story, but the slippery slope, one thing led to another, and several savage beatings in the Rathmines Gardai station’s basement later, it turns out that, as an Irish citizen, you can come within a hair’s breadth of being deported for not wearing shoes over here. So next time The Economist lists Ireland as “the best country in the world to live in”, I hope you all remember this little anecdote. Posted in Personal | 4 Comments » -- Guest-Blogging at the Consumerist January 3rd, 2006 by John Brownlee In case any of my readers (mostly comprised of my relatives, some Boston friends, three ex-girlfriends, a couple of anonymous AOL IM acquaintances who believe my profile-stated interest in pipe-smoking to be underworld slang for homoerotic fellatio, and Dr. Derek Smart, PhD) are interested in paparazzing my Internet fame: I’m (paid!) guest-blogging over at The Consumerist this week. I haven’t really read it yet, but it’s some sort of anti-corporate, pro-consumer website from the Gawker guys, who also do the (much nicer looking) blogs Gizmodo , Lifehacker , Fleshbot and others. My stint posting snarky news criticizing major corporations will be especially amusing to those close friends who have ever listened to me drunkenly defend major corporate hegemonies. You can tell my posts because they are the ones overusing adverbs. As an added note, my first day blogging over there netted me my first quote ever in the New York Times . The only problem? They attributed it to the totally wrong guy. The italicized part is what John Brownlee actually wrote : Mr. Johnson, who previously edited Gizmodo, another Gawker site, also highlights consumer-oriented news nuggets, funny pictures and shopping tips - all with the same snarky tone that characterizes Gawker properties like Wonkette and Defamer. This week, he posted an impassioned plea for more imaginative advertising because “the loud, braying ubiquity of advertising pretty much invalidates it without any effort on my part.” He added, “I don’t notice advertising anymore, unless it is advertising that somehow makes my life a little more surreal, or stupid, or silly, or magical.” So update your future editions of “Notable Quotables” accordingly, guys. Posted in Personal , Internet | No Comments » -- Metro Must Die! January 3rd, 2006 by John Brownlee Years back, I had a feud with the Boston Metro, a free daily newspaper that alternately constipated then squirted out of bowels of the Boston subway system. I hated this paper, not just for its abominable journalistic qualities, but also because it transformed what had once been a pleasant morning commute into an Indian gauntlet. Daily, I was battered by the greasy, rolled up rags clenched in the flailing fists of the thousands of oddly shuffling pimps, hobos and hustlers that formed the Metro’s sleazy newsie constabulary. Within a month of the Metro’s inception, there wasn’t a single bus station restroom not using the Metro for toilet paper; not a single gutter unstuffed with the Metro’s soggy literary discharge. Every bum, every brown-toothed transient, every deinstitutionalized lunatic soon found employment in the Metro armada harassing innocent commuters with the circumcised foreskin of journalism proper. I once paid one of these bums fifty dollars never to try to hand me a Metro again. He took my money, then gave me two the next day. If you were riding the Orange Line on December 2nd, 2001 and wondered what the wet lurch you felt between the State Street and Downtown Crossing stops was… mystery solved! The violence I wanted to inflict upon the Metro soon took a literary turn. I wish I had a copy of the letter I once wrote to the Boston Metro, but it wasn’t safe to keep lying around. If a single atom of brain whizzes around the inside of your skull, reading this letter would cause that atom to split, like a cerebral Hiroshima. The only place safely expose its radiation was in the ntellectual siberia of a Metro staff writer’s mind. But could even the leaden brainpan of a Metro staff writer contain the explosion? I copied every email address I could find off the Metro’s website, then I took my laptop to a cafe across from their headquarters. From the vantage of a window seat, I pressed “Send”. Imagine putting a thousand water balloons filled with cow’s blood in the microwave, then turning it on. That was what I thought was going to happen. I expected to hear a series of dull pops from across the street, quickly followed by a tidal wave of blood washing down the oscillating waterfalls of the front steps anemone-like brains, squidy eyeballs and small barques made of skull shrapnel. Needless to say, that didn’t happen. Luckily for them, the lack of that single atom which would have allowed my wit to start the necessary nuclear chain reaction was missing from the vacuum of their minds. Employees of the Metro: mentally retarded Supermen, hovering far above the earth by dint of their helium-filled heads, and when they drool, it rains. It wasn’t a total loss though. The letter soon became immortalized amongst my friends and acquaintances, all of whom hated the Boston Metro as much as me and amongst whom I privately railed for years about the cheap no-brow rag. In response to their imploring, I distributed the letter to a select few, but only every fourth word. Even so, these friends began reporting nose bleeds, detached retinas or the sudden ability to smell colors. One friend who accidentally pieced the entire letter together by joining his copy with those of three others suddenly found himself in a Cthulhu-like dimension where strange chthonic fish made of ectoplasm tormented him for eternity. It seems to me that the Infinite Monkey Typewriter project should be concerned less with reproducing the works of Shakespeare and worry more about accidentally reproducing a certain letter from Mr. John Brownlee to the Boston Metro, dated April, 2002. Because here’s what’s going to happen to the monkey who accidentally manages to type it up, in rapid succession following the first millisecond of the letter’s recreation. First, the monkey will turn sentient; second, it will be able to speak English; third, it will scream “Oh my god!” as it starts pulling ropes of its own intestines out of its ears. Jane Goodall meets Lucio Fulci, man. But that’s incidental to my main point. Eventually, I realized my intellectual duel to the death with the Boston Metro wasn’t going anywhere. Sure, the wit of my letter was pretty powerful. It had even killed a few people. But not the people it intended. It was like trying to shoot a ghost with a bazooka. Whoosh, and then the Catholic orphanage behind the ghost suddenly explodes. Only innocents were being hurt. So I did the only thing I could do to stop the conflict - I fled the country and moved to Ireland. It’s been a good four years. But today, as I was walking into town, a filthy hobo in a crisp blue blazer approached me, hacking madly. I tried to avoid him, as I imagined that he would soon begin blowing a large black bubble from his mouth, which would actually turn out to be one of his lungs. But he veered in my direction. The glaucoma of one of his eyes began shivering like the undercooked white of a fried egg; the other rolled crazily. I tend to get a little panicky when I’m trying to avoid someone fast approaching me. In my confusion, I rigidly pressed my arms up against my ribs and began effetely fluttering my hands next to my hips. I also squealed and spun in a circle a bit. This didn’t work: next thing I knew, the hideous transient was upon me and (using a mottled paw with a tell-tale brown streak across the blade of the palm) had pressed something gray and soggy between my hands, like a sheath of rotting flesh. I knew what it was before I even looked down. “Dublin Metro, read oll abood ib…” he croaked, then walked off, hysterically screaming his laughter into the sunrise he rigidly fixed with his one dead eye. Some brief highlights of today’s issue of the Dublin Metro: * * * 22 stone (that’s 308 pounds, or 140 kilograms) 12 year old congratulated by the Metro for dropping 42 pounds. The Metro is relieved he will not have to staple his stomach. * * * A serious page long interview between the Metro and a professional astrologer. Here are some tasty quotes: “Lots of big companies use financial astrologers.” “I got my qualification [as an astrologer] from the Faculty of Astrological Studies. I did a basic certificate, then a two-year diploma.” When asked how astrology works: “… it’s a mystery.” On quantum physics: “Quantum physics is all about things making patterns - fractals you can draw.” Her explanation concerning incorrect predictions: “When I get it wrong - and this is true of every astrologer - it’s often due to people’s interpretation.” In other words, she’s not wrong, you are. * * * An ad starting with the question “Got drunk again?” * * * That was as far as I got before I thought that last one was less a question and more good advice. Posted in Personal | 1 Comment » -- Radio Psyence Belated Christmas January 2nd, 2006 by John Brownlee If Nat King Cole were still alive, I like to think many of us would pull apart his Christmas-crooning lips and perform King Kong’s infamous jaw-snapping fatality on him. But he’s a raisin of a crooner in the grave now, and frankly can not be blamed for being so timeless that he has become a nauseating holiday cliche. Anyway, now that we are about as far away from a reflux of Christmas music as one can chronologically be… hey, Radio Psyence phoned in a Christmas show two weeks ago! Posted in Music , Personal , Internet | No Comments » -- « Previous Entries Search Pimp Junta Author A little something about you, the author. Nothing lengthy, just an overview. -- Archives January 2006 December 2005 November 2005 October 2005 September 2005 August 2005 July 2005 June 2005 May 2005 April 2005 March 2005 February 2005 Categories Books (11) Double Posts (3) Films (17) Flotsam (31) Games (10) General (12) Internet (25) Music (13) Personal (47) Photos (5) Login Valid XHTML XFN WordPress -- Recent Updates My Thoughts on Feet Guest-Blogging at the Consumerist Metro Must Die! Radio Psyence Belated Christmas Kong!.. sucks Surprising Appearances in American Literature Being A Paid Escort for Christmas: Part Five Okay. I’m back. Disestablishmentarianist Thought Of The Day Breastless Pelvises RSS Entries Comments Enter your e-mail address to receive notifications when there are new posts
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standing still for once who am i? Who: marti Where: metropolitan uppper midwest View Complete Profile » [ Send Email ] where you too might go to procrastinate shameless self promotion sozzled puddle the mouse says dianalysis mommy guilt premenopaws scott hutcheson the toymaker questionable sanity ujjayi friday playdate 01/10/2006 briefly 01/08/2006 what did i DO all weekend? 01/06/2006 don't worry, beaumont, big daddy will protect you 01/05/2006 the best laid plans of trees and chicks did you hear? what child said to me this morning 01/04/2006 amputee 01/03/2006 shhhhhhh 01/02/2006 thus endeth christmas break 2005 01/01/2006 finally, why i am such a proud mother uncle and plant husband and uncle cousin the hats 12/31/2005 what the crazies do on new year's eve [ Contents ] the happy jewelry whore 12/21/2005, our bedroom I am a happy jewelry whore. Let me be perfectly clear. I have not done the nasty in order to procure jewelry, specifically . I have received jewelry from Mechanical Man over the years we have been married, but never have used knowing him in the Biblical sense as a ploy to win more baubles. However, I consider myself a jewelry whore. I like jewelry, and the more the better. I am not a "more gold chains with charms" kind of girl, but I do wear two earrings in one ear and three in another, and when pressed, may have up to 8 beaded bracelets around one wrist, and three chain bracelets and a watch around the other. And, of course, my necklaces . I look at jewelry on other women (and, of course men, but there is far less and it is much less sparkly). I love, love, love diamonds, but other sparkly things catch my eye as well. Have you seen the inside front cover pages of the New York Times on Sunday? Girl, those New York women love their jewelry, too. So, it was with great excitement that I unwrapped the earring screen Felicity made for me. Oh my goodness nelly, it's a sight to see. First of all, and you can't see this in the photo, it is so pretty . She's painted it, and decorated it will little beads. Then, for organizing . roll me over and coat me in flour . all my earrings with French wires are hung in their little pairs, and all my necklaces are organized. Whoop dee do! Thank you Felic. It is beautiful. Just beautiful. The jewelry whore is very, very happy. Add/View Comments [3] child picked the menu 12/20/2005, the green kitchen Child recommended the menu for dinner tonight. Spaghetti with butter and fresh ground pepper. I asked him where he saw the recipe, and he said, "It's my recipe." I'm not a food nazi, and so if we only eat pasta dripping with butter, that is so fine with me. Because he chose it, he's in charge and we don't have to have anything else. I cannot wait until he shops for the food, too. Add/View Comments [2] why i love the internet 12/19/2005, or, how technology has become the village none of us had Thank you LightBlog Man. First of all, for being the husband of E. and the father of M. & A., who are just about the most adorable girls in the world. M. can marry Child, please. A. can roll me out to her Porsche and take me for a ride when I'm 90. Next, thank you for building me a kick-ass website. And, for giving us lightBlog. When we started down this merry website journey about a year ago, lightBlog man taunted me with an idea that I could wake up in the morning, log onto my e-mail, and it would alert me of the pieces of jewelry I had sold. All with my first cup of coffee in hand and wearing my jammies. Doesn't that sound fun? A big flipping fantasy, but fun to dream ... Then, it happened. One morning last week I logged onto my computer and "you've got cash" appeared in my inbox. [Yea, it actually says that, which is pretty exciting when you're an artist.] Someone I didn't even know ordered a necklace. I looked at the address and lo-and-behold it is around the corner from my house. Hmmmmm. I wonder who this is and how they found my site? No matter, I've got their money safely deposited in my bank, I refunded the shipping costs and went about trying to contact the buyer by e-mail so that I could deliver it. The e-mails kept bouncing back ... some problem with the address. So, being the slightly anxious and overly service oriented business woman that I am, I looked up the name and verified the address and called the homeowner so that I could deliver the product. Here's where it gets funny and small world. I deliver the necklace to the address. Turns out it's the home of the buyer's parents. Mom answer's the door. She's funny and charming, and shows me around. And, we figure out how all this works: The buyer, her son, lives in Boston. His sister-in-law lives down the street from me. I met her at the ladies luncheon I blogged about last week. She was cool, and we talked and I gave her my card, then she hooked her brother-in-law up with the site, and that's how I got the business. Can you get over this? How small IS this world? My client is in Boston, but thanks only to the woman who lives down the street. Ultimately, all thanks to lightBlog man and some necklaces and a few business cards, and of course ... My big networking chatty-assed mouth. Ha ha ha . Another day I'll blog about how Ujjayi found me through Puddle , and as a result, I'm about to get a beautiful new earring screen and necklace holder, but that's a small world for a different day! Add/View Comments [4] sing we joyous all together 12/19/2005, yesterday in the winter cold Church friends, J & C, have an annual caroling party about this time of year. On a Sunday afternoon, just before Christmas, they invite the same group of people to come for singing practice, caroling to the homes of church members who are shut in, and then back to their house for food. But, we are no ordinary singing group of carolers, mind you. We are an acapella, 4-part harmony caroling extravaganza. Our fearless leader, Fred, travels from his home hours away just to direct us and keep our tempo upbeat. We use individual copies of a music book each year in which we have memorized the page number of favorite carols. We sing only 1 or 2 secular carols, the rest being traditional Christian, honest to Jesus sing in church kinda music. And, we are good. Very, very good. Child is the human pitch pipe. He has been coming on this caroling party for as long as I can remember; he distinctly remembers singing for the past 5 years. We discovered last year or the year before that when Fred misplaced the pitch pipe in a pocket with gloves and hat and scarf, he could turn to Child and ask, "We need a b-flat." And, Child would sing a b-flat to get us started. Any note, on pitch. This past autumn a really great old gal from church died. We had sung in her garage for years because she was unable to come to church. Another fellow died the previous fall, and we had sung at his front door while he was being treated for cancer. That year we even hand delivered his favorite holiday treat, a package of lutefisk. Yesterday we visited a local care center and sang for Sig, filling the hallway outside his door with strains of Lo' How a Rose 'er Blooming , Jeg Er Saa Glad Hver Julekveld and Joy to the World , only to turn and find that three little elderly gals had come up behind us in the hall, one on a walker, and two scooting in their wheelchairs, to join us in singing. But, the most tender home we visit is the home of Adeleine and Roger. Adeleine was a child in Sunday School when our church began 76 years ago. By virtue of that, she is a charter member. Having sung in the choir for decades, Adeleine and Roger know the songs, have sung the songs, have lived the songs. A few years ago, Adeleine developed the beginning signs of Alzheimer's. Always a meticulously well-groomed woman, she decided that it would be too much for her to keep that up as the disease progressed, instead choosing to stay at home and welcome the pastor for regular visits. They came to the 75th anniversary celebration last year, but never to church. As this tragic diseased has progressed, her memory has slipped away. But, through the glass storm door yesterday her lips moved with each and every word of the carols we sang. The music is there, firmly planted in every fiber of her brain. She knew the notes, the words, the cadence. She had a choir with which to sing. Even if we had to come in the freezing cold to stand outside her door, Adeleine could sing in the choir once again. And that, Charlie Brown, is the true meaning of Christmas. Add/View Comments [5] in memory of mom and sam 12/17/2005, under the tree The train is set up and running under the tree. A family tradition going back to when my Mom and her brother were children and Grampa had a Lionel under the tree, our family can't be done decorating until a real working toy train encircles the tree. I have a photo of Sam, my step-dad, playing with the train that ran around the tree in his office. It didn't matter where a tree was set up, there had to be a train under it. He loved to buy trains and give them to anyone who didn't have one. He gave us this train many years ago. It is an LGB G (garden) guage train. We have a flat car that carries chocolates this year (rather than tiny packages per Child's wish), and a Coca-Cola car that plays an advertising jingle from years ago. It just wouldn't be Christmas without this train. Add/View Comments [1] middle of the night mommying 12/17/2005, the bathroom Child awoke me two times last night. Once, to tell me he felt better. "Good honey. Go on back to bed now." At that point, indeed he felt cooler, but not completely fever free. The next time, at 4 am, to tell me he felt better, and this time he was sweat soaked from his fever breaking. We toddled into his bedroom where I found dry warm jammies for him in the dark. Then, there came that mysterious tiny moan of "mom" and in the dark of his room I could tell ... We need to move to the bathroom quickly. He very tidily and quietly was sick to his stomach into the plastic bag lined garbage can. I put a towel on the floor under his tush, because ceramic is cold in the dark of night. I put another towel around his shoulders, because the air is cold in the house in the dark of night. I held him and the bucket until he was through. A little swish of water in his mouth, and ready to go back to bed. But before that he said in his sweet little voice, "Mom, thank you." After depositing the garbage bag in the garage, folding up the towels and washing my hands, I crawled back in bed and whispered to Husband, "Why doesn't he come to your side of the bed when that happens?" But, I knew the answer. I'm Mommy . And, sometimes, only Mommy will do. This morning he's like a new boy, fever free, just a little sore throat and headache. And, no reason to leave the house today. Add/View Comments [3] 24 hours with a good ole fever 12/16/2005, the living room sofa Child has had a fever for the past 24-hours. It came out of nowhere, as childhood illness is want to do. I spent the day going back and forth between my desk and the sofa where Child was tucked in with cable tv and an endless supply of Sierra Mist. He seems better with a little ibuprofen, then when that wears off, up goes the temp. Some of you might panic if your child ran a temp of 103. At least 101 or 102 is a normal illness temp for Child. Not surprised at high fever around here. That's our kid. So, my day was accounting chores for my business and reading blogs and learning about paying federal taxes for the biz. I didn't actually get out of my pjamas until Husband came home. That would be 3 p.m. A nice evening ahead of knitting and watching television. Tomorrow is another day at home. No Christmas Program practice for a child who's been fevering the way he has. Isn't it funny how an at home mother's "best" sick day isn't her own, but one when her child is just sick enough to be at home, but not sick enough to cause concern. We're snuggled in and recuperating. Ahhhh. Add/View Comments [1] the long christmas letter 12/15/2005, the mailbox Mother never sent the letter. I always liked reading the ones we received, but she never sent the letter. But, as a grown up ... I write the letter every damn year and send it to everyone (except this year I left it out of the pediatrician's card, 'cause I don't want to hear the lecture about Child riding on the back of my Harley) . I used to agonize over the letter until I understood the "rules" about it. **** The Rules The letter shall be short, sweet, and not overly filled with words like "prison," "cancer," or "DWI." The letter will be your happy news, with a very few details on the things you've done that might be fun if others were to try them. There will be a wish that the coming year be free of dictators and presidents living in a bubble. ***** I so do not care for the LONG letter . The long letter is any letter where the margins have been adjusted to less that .75," the type is smaller than 10 pt, or it goes over 1 page. Like a resume, the letter must not be over 1 page. The long letter has at least one individual paragraph about EACH AND EVERY person in the family, including the pets and their antics ("Muffin was impregnated by a rotweiler, and those puppies have been tearing up my yard all year long ...") and EVERYTHING they have done during the year. The long letter has more detail than you need to know about someone's colon or bunion or surgery and the inevitable outcome. In short, the long letter must go. Now, I love my friends. I read the long letter . But, I read it quickly . I look for the highlights and say quietly to myself, "my that's a long letter " then I hang it with their card on the ribbons where I hang everyone's card. God forbid the long letter comes with the ugly children photo . I'll never tell who that is. You don't know them anyhow. Amy found a "write your holiday letter kit" at Barnes and Noble while we were there to wrap gifts for a school fundraiser. The letter started with "there is no return address on our letter this year and that is for our safety and for yours because we are in the witness protection program." That's a letter. Add/View Comments [1] [ Newer ] | [ Older ]
Whore Train
Doorknobs & BodyPaint, Issue 16 Killing The Whore Tim Putnam J ake lay with the whore. The train robber's whore. The government couldn't catch the thief, so they sent Jake to kill his whore. Jake was part of a no-name agency of government killing machines who eliminated undesirables to keep peace. The job came with a good horse, an assortment of weapons, and government-issue opiate-laced whiskey. The whiskey kept the spirits of those Jake killed away. Weakness is death, the agency preached. Remorse, hesitation, and nightmares were all signs of weakness. The spirits haunted Jake in his sleep. Jake had killed the only other agent he ever met, because the agency saw signs of the agent weakening. Jake didn't sleep much. This morning, the whiskey kicked more than usual. Jake shoved the whore out of bed. Before she died, Jake wanted a hot bath.After a few swigs of whiskey, Jake floated into the bath. Jake decided the whore would die like his mother. She was raped before Jake's eyes by five men and a knife. The whore's hand ran down Jake's chest. Jake's agency contact said he would submit the paperwork required for evaluation, allowing Jake to take a vacation in South America. The whore's hand slid down around Jake's quickly erecting sex. Vacation sounded good. Jake didn't feel the cold barrel of the pistol until the bullet was released from its chamber into his head. The spirits consumed him. The whore put her pistol away. She took out her bottle of government-issue opiate-laced whiskey. Weakness is death, she whispered. First published: November 1999 comments: knobs@iceflow.com