the following was originally
over here
and is reposted here, because it’s absolutely funny.

A Professional Apology from your Web Host

So like. Ok check this out. We have this big data center right? And this big data center is like really big and stuff, and it uses a lot of this power stuff. Well like ok so you know when you have really important stuff like I dunno your computer or your Xbox or something and if the power goes out you want to keep it from just suddenly turning off right? Cause there’s nothing worse than when the power goes out during a game of Call of Duty and it’s like “Oh Crap man I was just about to win and shit just got real and the hell?”

So you plug it in to this thing like a UPS or something kinda like the dudes that deliver packages and I always have to sign for shit. I mean it’s no big deal anyways since I don’t work during the day and deliver pizzas at night and the UPS guy is always here around 2:30 or so. Oh yeah. So ok About that.

So our really big data center is supposed to have a UPS which it does… I think. But apparently like ok so some squirrel was like chewing on the wires again and it’s like “stop it damnit”, but anyways. So this squirrel is all up there omnomnoming the wires, and like zap! The squirrel is now like a McSquirrel or something which probably wouldn’t taste good even with cheese and mayo, but like the power got all funny and the data center went pop and apparently the UPS was never plugged in cause Joe was like all like “Dude I’ll do it tomorrow.”

So now our customers like can’t run their websites and stuff which sucks because now the world is all like “Omfg where’s all the websites with cat pictures”, and some 15-year-old can’t see lolcats or something and kills himself and then it’s like on the news abouthow we really fucked up and the headline is all like I Can has funeral and everyone laughs but it’s a real dick move.

So we’re trying to fix it, but it’s like difficult and we think we got it so we want to apologize if your site wasn’t working but it should work now so don’t cancel your service. We promise this won’t happen again. Until next week.

yeah, that’s so
dream host
as seen
over here
and why I’ll not go back to them again. Nice and stable, right? /sarc/

so those of you that surf
you tube
may have come across
this
video.
Great video. I love it, hey, I have the original in mp3, somewhere around here.
Who knew that speech synthesizers such as dectalk, the braille n speak, among others
thought the same!
I’m highly amused!
Sing it synthesizers, sing it!
Oh, and because I’m nice, have the
original
for your amusement.

So, what happens when myself and
james
get bored enough to want to go out, want to find out? Then go get the random audio file that’s in this post.
We discuss a bunch of things, and we even refer to
this show of doom
that I still listen to and go, really, now I know why I don’t get that drunk. christ.
But hey, I still remembered it the next day, so I still had room left to get drunker. so I couldn’t have been totally smashed, right?
I’m so fuckin’ dead on so many levels, but it’s my blog, don’t like it, suck on a post.
We also refer to
the new years show
that was loads of fun to do.
Even
jessica
was involved in those shows, so their both pritty dangerous.
With that out of the way, have random, stuff that’s totally us, by goingover here.
and downloading it!
enjoy.
Until next time.

So yesterday everyone and their mother was wining about
facebook shutting down
but sadly, it’s
not
so please do be shutting your mouth and do your research before you wine.
More proof that the claim was
false
can be found right
over here
so in short, please get your facts straight before believing things like
this
thanks for coming out to play, though.

So while reading through my RSS feeds, I come across a post titled, who to ask me out on a date.
I found some of this amusing, so it’s being put here.
enjoy and we’ll post again soon.

I realize that it’s usually considered déclassé to discuss exs during
the first date, and probably even more so before the first date. But
this is a funny story. And, in a roundabout way, it serves a function.

Once upon a time, the year before I came to law school, I went out
with a guy named S. He was a a PhD candidate from the
Anthropology (don’t you always want to spell that like the store now?)
department at —. On our second date, I went over to his house so he
could feed me fresh fried chicken from his deep fryer. His idea, I
swear.

Anyway, so a bottle of wine or two later, he leans in and kisses me.
One kiss turns into a full make out session. Then he starts to get a
little hands-y. I stop him, because it’s the second date and I’m a
recent graduate of — looking to reform my image into “career girl”
from “crazy undergrad slut who hit on her broadcast prof.” After a bit
of blocking, he gets all flustered and says, “You know, L.? We’re
going to have to reach a compromise here.”

“What are we compromising, exactly? My boundaries and your reputation
as not a rapist?”

“It can’t be all about you, L.”

I wish I could have spoken. I wish I could have said something really
clever. Instead, I tried to see past the red that blinded my vision,
and I left.

He called the next week and told me that he was sorry, would I have
dinner with him? Because I was still in that transition phase and knew
more about vibrators than I did about boys, I accepted his apology and
went out with him.

At this point, I should mention that he only owned a scooter. No car.
Just a tiny little scooter. And I knew enough not to trust him to
drive.

So he gets in my car to go out to dinner, and the first thing he says
is, “I want to talk about last weekend.”

“Go for it.”

“I just feel like things are moving too fast. I just can’t handle it
when you’re affectionate and attentive.”

No lie. Word for word, he said that.

He went on and on for a few minutes about how he wasn’t used to being
treated well by his girlfriends and said, “You know, sometimes, I just
wish you would be more of a bitch.”

He was so busy waxing philosophical on the deeper meanings of why he
wanted me to change everything about myself to cater to his needs that
he didn’t notice that I turned the car around until we were five
minutes away from being back to his apartment.

“Did you forget something?” he asked.

“No.”

“Why are we back here?”

“Because you said that you needed someone who would be a bitch. Well,
this is me being a bitch. Get out of my car. And don’t call me again.”

We’re facebook friends now.

Anyway, the whole point of this is, if the situation was reversed, if
I had to be me again and you were S., I would be that bitch for
you. And this time, I wouldn’t drive off and ignore your phone calls
for three weeks and tell you, the next time that I saw you at our
favorite Indian restaurant (okay, fine, the only Indian restaurant in
Baton Rouge) that what you really needed was to pay a hooker to be
your dom for the night, in front of your friends and that boy who I
later learned was your brother. No. I would stick around and be
bitchier than a dog in heat. Because I care.

Now, when are you free for dinner and drinks?”