The Nun Generator Sister Lonnie Smolderwrath or Sister Luwella Gruelcaster
British Town Name Generator Six Chipperchesterhead on Piffle, Shropshire or Burp on Elk, Cardiff
The Lewd Sex Act Generator The Full Frontal Hog Fireman or The Smelly Beaver Corkscrew
I'm not clever enough for this one, but give the Custom Receipt Maker a shot and show us what you come up with
Where do these come from? I mean, really...
Today's earworm is "Rock You Like a Hurricane".
Are you fucking KIDDING me?
After all my adventures last night, I get up this morning, and go out on the screen porch to enjoy my coffee. From the window well I hear an all too familiar dry leaf rustling sound. I look and over, yes, there's a teeny bun in the window well. Only I know it ain't my teeny bun, because he's still in the bathtub, enjoying his breakfast in bed:
Please meet Not-So-Teeny Bun. He's more like Teenage Bun and just as wily. Capturing him to remove from the window well was a bit more exciting, because he actually jumped in the window and ran around the basement.
Oy. Now I've got to figure out what to do with them, because if I just put them back outside, I envision having to fish them out of the window well every other day. Suggestions?
Today's choice spam (so far), mostly because of the subject line:
| Bue <bacchuse_1951@dm-monange.com.br> |
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Turn your sausage into a fat ass pole easily with these organic products http://ww.definemassive.com/ |
How are you celebrating the 4th of July?
Party in my cubicle! Come on over, everyone!
(I'm reminded of the morning radio show I listen to as I get ready for work: one guy says this morning "So it's the fourth of July in the US today...". I could barely keep myself from calling in to inform him that it's the fourth of July pretty much everywhere else, too. Oh, I should mention that I really quite dislike this guy, so I mentally pick or hate on pretty much everything he says.)
You'll notice that this was posted at the bizarre hour of 4:00 am. Normally I would be asleep at this hour, but about 30 minutes ago, I was woken by a strange thumping noise. I rolled over, felt around myself and found both the cats sleeping. Not a cat. I got up and checked on Teeny Bun. To my relief I found him asleep, having eaten his fill of the Redzilla Guest House Salad Bar--fresh picked dandelion greens, clover, and lettuce. So I walked the house for a while until I heard a suspicious scuttling, scraping sound outside my office window.
Suddenly I remembered a possible source for the thumping: the brick I had placed on top of the sump pump well cover to block the raccoon-made hole and to weight it down. I grabbed a flashlight and ran outside. Around back, at the east* sump pump, what did I find?
A fucking raccoon, trying to get the cover off the sump pump well. Yes, a raccoon who wanted to make the eleven foot fall to NOTHING but the bottom of a pit. Grendel's mother? Another daredevil moron? Or the same? No way to know.
At any rate, I yelled at her and after a few moments of hesitation, she darted up the stairwell roof, over the garage, and away. I put the cover more firmly on the sump well and piled two big limestone rocks on top of it.
Jumping Christ on a Pogo Stick, what the fuck do those raccoons think is in the bottom of my sump well? There is, as far as I know, and according to my plumber, nothing at the bottom of the well except mud, a ceramic tile, a brand new sump pump, and about three inches of water. Did Grendel's grandpa leave a treasure map showing where all the loot from his days of banditry is buried and it's under my sump well? Did Grendel's mother accidentally drop her wedding ring down there? Does the sump well contain an entrance to Raccoon Paradise?
All I know is--I'm done. This weekend I am building an elaborate, heavy, critter-proof cover for my sump pump wells, possibly with a raccoon trap/alarm/deterrent that is not a rudely awakened me, shouting and waving a flashlight. Because I've had it with that shit. Another raccoon falls into my sump pump well and I'm going to go all Tony Montana on his ass.
Late Breaking Stupidity!!
Just as I was trying to go back to sleep, my phone rang, incoming text message. There was an off-chance it was Hubbicula, so I got up and checked it. It was an official "Campus Alert" from the university, telling me to use caution on campus, because a university student had been found dead...off campus. It also gave the name of the suspect in the case: Adolfo Garcia. Because that's the kind of shit I want to be notified of at 4:30 in the morning, after I've been out frolicking around fighting evil raccoons. Plus, I'm sorry, but this has all gone toooo far. Sure, in the case of the Virginia Tech shootings, where shootings were reported on campus, these cell phone alert systems are good.
They're not good when they're used to report on a single murder that happened off campus. They're not good when used to panic people at 4:30 in the morning. Hello! I was already using caution by trying to be safely asleep in bed! Really, what could possibly be the benefit of this particular alert? Thousands of university students, faculty, and staff woken from sleep to what purpose? Lie awake and worry? Check that their guns are loaded? (Ha! Not in cuddly, liberal Lawrence.) Check that their doors are locked?
There's no indication this is anything but a single murder. No suggestion that this guy is on a killing spree. Certainly no likelihood that he's on campus menacing students, who aren't even on campus at 4:30 in the morning, on a freaking national holiday. So, there you have it: university administrators as stupid as my raccoons.
Today was the 400th anniversary of the founding of Quebec City by Samuel de Champlain.
Tens of thousands--tourists and locals--are whooping it up in this beautiful city tonight. And the party is going to go on all summer long. It's about a 5-6 hour drive from here; but Mr BA and I are going to try to get up there one weekend. It's one of the most beautiful cities in North America.
Saw this on the "just posted" page as soon as I posted my ICHC pic. Link from random vox user who linked to this story.