Looking for a web host? Stay away from HostPro, because they've dicked over Über Interactive one too many times. Wing Chun has something to say about it again today, as she did not two weeks ago when HostPro fucked up previously. Make sure to tell your friends how bad they suck, okay?
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Just to blatantly steal a link or two from Beth:
Go take the Al Gore/Unibomber quiz here, if only to prove to yourself that your soundbite analysation skills aren't nearly as honed as you thought they were. Then, go take the Sex Goddess quiz, and tell me your results. Your secret's safe with me, you filthy slut.
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Were you sad enough to download Metallica tracks from Napster? Unless it was Hero of the Day, I gots no sympathy for you -- and even then, I mostly pity you foolz. Anyway, if you've ended up banned from Napster because of Metallica's stupidity and greediness, go here to find out how to get around the ban. And please don't buy any Metallica stuff, people; it's no longer a matter of mere bad taste.
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I totally hurt the roof of my mouth today. How? Eating apple slices. Is this normal? Somehow, I don't think so. All I know is, that mug feels bruised. Please feel sorry for me.
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Tomorrow night, Ian and I are off to the cinema to see Gladiator (not a moment too soon, I know) with his friends. I'll try to contain my 'happy noises'. In any case, did you know that Russell Crowe has a band, called 30 Odd Foot of Grunt? And did you know that the band will be in Austin, Texas to record their new album soon? You can only buy the band's albums (and merchandise) from their website, but sadly no revealing glossies of Russell are on offer. Balls.
15 May, 2000
The thing about The Onion is, I know it's unceasingly hilarious, and it really is one of my favourite websites of all time. But for some reason, I never remember to look at it until someone else mentions it, or links to it. Yes, I'm stupid. Anyway, this comic from Pathetic Geek Stories is my new desktop wallpaper; I can't get over how amused I am by the speech bubbles in the first two cells. Stupid? Check. Dork? Check.
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Onion headline that's currently got me gasping for air: Used-Bookstore Owner Rises From Chair. HA!
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My weekend was okay, thanks for asking.
13 May, 2000
No entries till Monday, because Ian and I are going away for a much-deserved (cough) break. But there's a bunch of hungry Alsatians surrounding the place, so no breaking in, okay? See you freaks later.
11 May, 2000
Overall, British TV is soooooooooo much better than American TV. It just is, and anyone who tells you anything different is either lying, stupid or in denial. But the Saturday night schedule is complete shit, and since I'm now a boring married (whereas before I was a boring single), I watched Blind Date last Saturday. There was this totally hot, funny guy who seemed really nice on there, and he ended up picking this Gail Porter lookalike called Carla. I thought she seemed a bit odd, and now it turns out that she was only scamming the show for the free vacatin to Rio; she has a steady boyfriend and admitted to Rob (the guy) that it was all a farce. What a cock. Anyway, I think it's cool that she got busted on national TV, and I'd watch Blind Date again this weekend to see her humilation if Ian and I weren't going away for a little break.
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Have you ever met a celebrity who was less than gracious in your presence? Will you go to the Bad Celebrity Encounters forum at Fametracker (my second most favourite non-journal site ever -- its sister site, Hissyfit, is my absolute favourite) and tell everyone all about it, please? I am riveted by this subject; who would have guessed that Judy Blume was such a biznatch to her fans, Peter Tork is a perv and David Justice is an asshole? (Okay, I guessed one of those.) Thanks in advance for sharing.
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I should thank the people who sent me nice email about my diatribe of last night. I wasn't fishing for that; I honestly thought a lot of people would send me angry messages. In fact, this is one subject matter about which I would welcome hate mail. Alas, you all disappointed me, because no one emailed to say I looked like a pre-op Linda Tripp. Sob. Maybe everyone's as tired of the topic as I am, but I'm a little easier to get pissed off about it.
Anyway, I just thought I would mention that I honestly wasn't trying to offend anyone by, you know, saying what I truly believe. I actually have quite an internal struggle about Clinton, because despite what a worm of a man I think he's been, I also quite like him. It's shameful because, apart from the whole Lewinsky thing, there's the whole extending most favoured nation status to a country where human rights violations are rampant and openly endorsed thing. And then there's the fact that he's a Sarah McLachlan fan, but we'll be here all night if I keep this shit up.
Anyway, thanks for not sticking pins in your Jackie voodoo dolls for tonight, at least.
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If you're not married to a guy who knows people who can get you a copy of the new Super Furry Animals Welsh language album before it's released, then you can stream it from the site for the album, Mwng (which is Welsh for 'mane'). SFA will also be taking part in an hour-long online chat this Thursday, on BBC Wales's Cymru'r Byd chat room, Clecs Cymru. The chat will be entirely in Welsh, but if you don't speak Welsh you can submit your questions and they'll be given to SFA to answer; an English language version of the transcript will be released after the chat. If your Welsh is a bit rusty and you need help just figuring out where to submit your question(s), email me and I'll be happy to help.
PS I luv SFA! I shouldn't jinx things this way, but I've yet to meet someone who'd listened to them and not loved their music. And it's not just because Gruff Rhys, Dafydd Ieuan, Cian Ciaran, Guto Pryce and Huw Bunford are the coolest names in rock.
10 May, 2000
I'm going to say some stuff now -- inspired by this -- with which I'm sure at least 98% of you reading this will disagree. But I'm in the mood to put people straight, so here goes (if you're not interested in reading my opinion of the whole Ken Starr vs Bill Clinton deal, look away now):
Kenneth Starr was directed by Janet Reno, Bill Clinton's hand-picked Attorney General, to investigate charges of obstruction of justice, perjury, subornation of perjury and intimidation of witnesses against Presiden Clinton. He proceeded to do his job, even when that took him into an area with which many people felt uncomfortable -- the possibility that President Clinton hid evidence regarding sex, and/or lied about sex, and/or asked someone (or several someones) to lie about sex to a federal grand jury. Apparently, a great number of people feel that such crimes are excusable when they're committed in an attempt to cover up the truth about our married President's sex life. A big, fat 'Whatever' to that, but anyway. What I find more disturbing is the willingness on the part of 'the American people' -- or a lot of them, and a lot of the rest of the world, from what I can make out -- to not only accept a president who feels that he is above the law, but to make a hero out of him because an Independent Prosecutor -- again, appointed by the President's own Attorney General -- simply did his job. In addition, everyone seems to think it's just HORRIBLE that this man dared to continue to do his job when blow jobs and rim jobs came into the picture. As Michael Isikoff, the guy who actually discovered the goings-on in the Lewinsky case for Newsweek, has said, 'It got very nasty. You [had] so many people who [were] portrayed as enemies of the Clintons and as driven by hatred and deep seated animus. The White House people were very successful in portraying Starr as the right-wing zealot when the truth is, he was not that at all.' Yes, the investigation cost taxpayers over $50 million, but how in the world is that Ken Starr's fault? Again, he was DOING HIS JOB. I find it downright hilarious that people choose to point the finger at him, rather than place the blame on the head of the person who, by his own admission, kept up the whole charade for far too long by deceiving his wife, his daughter, his Cabinet, his other co-workers, and the rest of the free world. How has he come out of this the wronged party?
This shit has irked me for a very long time, more so because no one -- literally, NO ONE -- I know seems willing to accept that this is the case. All I want to know is, what the fuck is wrong with people? (Hate mail to the usual address.)
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Reading this gives me chills.
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Bad Analogy of the Day prize goes to Ocean Drive columnist Richard Turley, who -- in trying to make a funny about Johnnie Cochran, as quoted on Page Six -- said, 'Cochran's reputation for probity is such that the Queen Mother herself would look guilty standing next to the beaming barrister.' Well, considering the fact that the Queen Mother is a Nazi sympathiser and great admirer of Idi Amin, I'd say she has a lot for which she should feel guilty.
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Quote of the day, courtesy of Andy Richter: 'How many times can you make jokes about Jennifer Lopez's butt and really feel good about yourself?' Yeah, I think that's why everyone's moved on to making fun of her choice in boyfriends, fashion and never-ending quest for press.
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Steven Wells's columns in the NME (their website is utter shite, so no link -- you figure it out, smart lady) invariably make me sick, but still I read them. The worst part is when he makes a good point, because I then have to admit that he's not all bad. You can now read one of his more lengthy rants online, where he attacks everyone from kids who wear oversized trousers, DJs (and their fans) to Embrace (about time!) and Ian Brown, and asserts that the Vengaboys are better than Radiohead. See, he almost had me... but that's what I think almost every time I read one of his columns. Oh well, at least I got my favourite new phrase ('[This] sucks the shit out of the prolapsed arse of dog with arsecancer!') from reading it.
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I think I would run away from home, too, if I got a phone bill for $1,332.37. Poor kid. Anyway, her parents can use the Universal Currency Converter to figure out the foreign exchange rate for £873.70 -- one for the bookmarks.
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I'm certainly not one to take pleasure in my enemies' (or, rather, The Enemy's) downfall, but I can't say I was surprise or displeased to read this about misogynist, frighteningly stupid Daily Mirror editor Piers Morgan.
09 May, 2000
I feel compelled to add the following, regarding my criticism of the New York Post's atrocious grammatical errors: I am no English language expert. Some of my sentences end in prepositions, I'm sure I've split infinitives once or twice -- and those are only the mistakes of which I am aware (did you see the way I avoided ending that sentence in a preposition?). But the point is, I am not running a high circulation, high profile newspaper; nor do I write for one. If the errors in the Post are so bleeding obvious that I notice them, then something is very wrong.
Hmm... re-reading the above paragraph, it seems that I'm taking this rather seriously. No, no one emailed me, complaining that I was picking on the Post. I just felt it necessary to point out that I know I'm no Sars or Wing in the English department. I wish I was, but... there you go.
I think I'm going to go take a walk.
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If you were wondering about the site where I stashed those photos ('Yes, Jackie, I was just about to dash off an email enquiring about that...'), it's a site I threw together for a family friend, Andy, whose grandson had a school assignment to design and sew his own authentic Tudor outfit. This kid is 9 years old, people. Anyway, I looked up all this crap and put it on this crumby (hi, Holden!) server for him, and the kid ended up getting a 100 -- AND when he told the teacher that his grandfather had gotten all the information for this project, the teacher invited Andy to come give a presentation to the class about the Tudor era. Doh!
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Okay, don't tell anyone, but... today, I'm wearing plaid, nappy hair and a shiny nose. Also, could someone please teach me how to take pictures of myself?
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If your day's going pretty good so far, and you really need to get angry and upset, this would be an excellent place to start. Link nicked from Elise.
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Please check out phattitude, a new blog created by Cecily -- who does outlet -- that's all about size acceptance issues. Cecily rocks in so many ways; where can I get my 'WWCD?' bracelet?
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Argh! Another misspelled word in Liz Smith's column! The past tense of 'mislead' is 'misled,' oh Doughy One. Is the Post hurting for money or something? Because I'm already proofreading their articles for free, so any small token of appreciation would be very welcome.
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Please, someone buy Neal Travis an editor -- if you can't spell simple words like 'warehouse,' you've really got no business having your own column in the New York Post, have you? And no, I'm not giving him the benefit of the doubt, because there's a misspelled word or grammatical error in almost every Post article I read these days, so either the writers have got to get their shit together or the Post is gonna have to spring for some editing staff.
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Actually, though, I kind of do feel sorry for celebrities; I'm sure I'd be a horrible person, too, if editors put photos of me that looked like this in the newspaper and on the web. We're all feeling very attractive right now, aren't we?
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If celebrities ever cease to make me ill, someone check my pulse.
