Bacon Ranch Torquemada. Hold the red hot pokers, please

14 05 2010

It is so weird to me to be blogging again after such a  long hiatus. It is also incredibly strange to have a blog with so few posts again. I cannot remember if I saved all the posts from my old blog. I think I have them on a disk somewhere safe and sound, this is assuming that the Rabid Hyena pair didn’t find it and accidentally use it for one of their ‘old microwave + CD’ experiments. Another thing I cannot recall is the name of my old blog. I mean we still have the domain and URL (or are those the same thing and I am flaunting my idiocy again?) but I have long since sent the Moveable Type that was installed on there to a pixelated-fire death.

After a 20 minute pause in which I tried to search my hard drive for a file of all my old posts, then a sidetrack before I could do that to me looking at all the social networking sites that I belong to (ridiculously I belong to them. A few I hate with flaming sun flames along the side of my face.), trying to find a link to old blog when I forgot what I was going to search for on my hard drive, then finding old blog URL and then remembering that I wanted to search my hard drive for old blog posts I…what? I ran my sentence on so fucking long that I forgot what I was trying to say. In my old blog days I would have never revealed such a thing.

I did not find any of the old blog posts, but I did remember the name and that it was a wordpress blog (the one before was my Movable Type blog and I had imported all it’s posts to the WordPress…fuck, like you CARE!) and I fear I nuked it without exporting anything and this makes me sad. I did, however, find a million lolcat photos, a jillion of my own photos, a couple of addresses of people I was supposed to send baked goods to then I totally flaked and forgot. They probably hate me now. 4 metric tons of old design data from my shop in Second Life. A folder of mods for Dragon Age. A naked photo of Clive Owen. An obscene amount of Poison songs that I know I did not put there…I suspect Spouse is the culprit. It would be a cold, cold day in Hell when I willingly let a fucktonne of Poison to come anywhere near my other music files. Thankfully it’s all in a separate file entirely. So my precious Dead Can Dance and Love & Rockets will not be impregnated by spandex-clad hair band clowns.

And because I think I am never going to make a real point here or reach any sort of conclusion, I leave you with a photo of the best sign ever, and really one that describes me perfectly.

Okay, so I am not particularly helpful and am probably sketchy on the humorous, but I am definitely CHEAP and ODD! And Spouse just arrived from running his brother home and bringing he & I some Taco Bell. I told him to get me this new thing they have that I cannot remember the exact name of and I know I could look it up but it sounds vaguely like Torquemada. I am too lazy to look up the real name and calling it Torquemada amuses me greatly so that’s what it is. A Bacon Ranch Torquemada. And I think I just found my post title. Also? I don’t think I am even going to eat it as I am not really hungry and my ass doesn’t need to be any bigger. I think half will be breakfast and half will be lunch later today. It’s fucking huge. Almost as big as a newborn’s head. Scary.

Okay. Sleep. Sleep before I start hallucinating.




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