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Since You Looked

17 Jul

Since You Looked

I’ve no issue writing what the fuck I want to over there, the creation of this blog accomplished its intent. Still, daydreams of leaving blooger, prompted entirely by blooger, persist. Since you’re here, here are my credentials, shot this past Sunday at BMA.

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Should Gah Need Migrating

13 Jul

Should Gah Need Migrating

Reminding myself this is here, teaching myself how it works, should blooger become untenable, not morally but functionally.

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Tonight’s Gag Tonight

11 Feb

Tonight's Gag Tonight

Please don’t think I’m concerned much less am forlorn that an unopened Moleskine and an unopened pack of pens remain unopened. Please don’t think I’m concerned much less am forlorn I’m not concerned much less am forlorn I’m not concerned and not forlorn I’m not concerned and not forlorn about not being concerned and forlorn both Moleskine and pens remain unopened . I’m not concerned and I’m not forlorn I not only have no interest in opening but a strong desire to not open. I’m not saying I’m not curious about the new algorithms, I’m just not as concerned or preemptively forlorn about what I’d self-diagnose as I’d once have been.

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Abdication

4 Feb

Abdication

There’s no Blogroll Amnesty Day where there is no blogroll. Honest understanding attempted towards whom I spent decades convinced I understood and loathed has fascinating side-effects I can’t yet synthesize into calligraphy or cat photos. I’m currently quite mute for all I bark.

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True

30 Jan

True

I’m stalled, stuck, too many places to choose
one, stalled, stuck, offered options I refuse.

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Autohagiography

19 Jan

Unforeseen Foreseeable

I have not put pen to tablet since google broke my ability to modify BLCKDGRD’s template. I’ve not put pen to tablet since I was thanked for typing out tablet. The first happened one day, the second the next day, though autohagiographically I will remember them as single event.

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On Historioblography

15 Jan

On Historioblography

I’ve received requests lately on (1) what the fuck is up with two Blegsylvanians and (2) Blegsylvanian history. As to (1), one is smart if eccentric, the second is smart if a flaming assclown. To a follow up question, no, I don’t know, that would entail rewarding the assclown with a ping, and fuck that. As to (2), for all my irresistible urge to bleggalgaze, historioblography doesn’t much interest me, though I admit I remember when minor Blegsylvanians like me competed to mock Michelle Malkin in hopes of getting blogrolled on assholes like TBogg’s shitty blogs.

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The Llamas of N McKenzie St, Mt Vernon Ohio, at Sunrise

14 Jan

The Llamas of N McKenzie St, Mt Vernon Ohio, at Sunrise

 

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Simmering

11 Jan

gif_jambas320

Pings at BLCKDGRD drop when I’m not feeding the motherfucking aargh. I’ve vowed to never again motherfucking aargh in the service of increasing readership. This has led to a decrease in arrgh as mocking the right is easy and unnecessary (though it brings the most pings) and mocking the left alienates friends. The former is dormant, permanently so I think, the latter is itching again, it’s scratch or emotional hydrocortisone.

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Formatting

10 Jan

Formatting

United has changed it’s home game starting time from 7:30 to 7:00  except for start times dictated by TV contractual obligations. Setting aside the lower case fuck you for TV contractual obligations, let me send out a FUCK YOU, UNITED! for the move to 7:00. I’ll be there, but I’ll need short something good in Saturday’s daylight I can’t reclaim at 9:10 in the dark, I’m in a parking lot in DC queueing to queue on the BW Parkway, I’ve lost three to six holes depending on difficulty of disc golf course in daylight, lost two mile hiking, you fucks. You fucks.

I bet you however many pints of stupid small glasses of nyquil you wager, the home kits will be red by time of fuck-me-jig, LOUD SIDE! will be in an endzone, they’re gonna cut the balls off the best part of the experience as soon as they fucking can. Does it beat not having a team of indifferent mediocre soccer-playing professionals? As always, fine fucking metaphors abound.