February has proven to be a slow month in Heyville. The reason I have not been updating very often, aside from not having any funny ideas or anything interesting to say, is that Blogger is behaving as if it were – and I shall phrase this as delicately as possible – a fart turd. Earlier today when I was at work it took this page like five minutes to load on an ethernet connection. Now, I’m no T1-routin’ cable-splicin’ switch-flippin’ system-configurin’ network jockey, but that seems a bit off.
I’ve mulled over changing the design of my site a bit. I think that perhaps, after over a year, the wooden frames and goofy blue backgrounds have been played out. The caveat is that I would need to come up with something better. I can come up with plenty of different designs, but there’s that qualitative judgement issue that trips me up. The problem is, they’re all equally brilliant. I still have that scissors-and-comb motif I’ve been wanting to implement, but now that I am no longer in barber college, it is perhaps no longer appropriate. The other problem is that solid, flat colors don’t naturally occur to me while I design. I see them all over the web, and they look great, but they never seem to come up on my own site. If it doesn’t go 3-D, it ain’t me. If it don’t got a BG IMG SRC, it ain’t me. If no contact paper patterns thar be, it ain’t me.
Had to go pirate for that last one. Anyway, leave some comments below and tell me if I’m wasting my time thinking about this garbage.
Speaking of New Orleans, Fat Tuesday (“Mardi Gras“) is now well underway. For this yearly festival, thousands upon zillions of wanna-be revellers trek down to the Big Easy and choke up the streets with cheer and drunkenness and immorality and litter. Some will have an experience they will never forget. Others will have an experience they will never remember. Others still will have had to work that night and will have missed it. And a few will have engaged in the two most intimate encounters one can have with a comely stranger: one, making love to her in a dark hotel room while the crowd pulses outside, sirens blaring as police track down ne’er-do-wells, bottles flying, hitting the window, almost breaking it, but you don’t even notice, no, because the Louisana heat has your lithe bodies dripping with sweat and sliding against each other and sticking to the light blue linen sheets, and soon, in rhythm with the wild dance music you can hear from outside the window as loudly as it would sound inside, the two of you writhe spastically and release your passion in short bursts of mutual sexual satisfaction leading to an explosion of full-fledged erotic nirvana; as you relax, bodies grow cooler, sweat drenched sheets become a cocoon in which you and this woman, whose name you have not even been pronouncing correctly, will slumber as though mated, comatose for life; and two – during or after the previous – projectile vomiting on her.
But no matter which category your experiences fall into, you can rest assured that one sure thing can be said about this year’s Mardi Gras: a new edition of Girls Gone Wild! will be out soon. Not to mention Girls Gone Crazy!, Girls Gone Insane!, Girls Gone Bananas!, and, my personal favorite, Girls Gone Nucking Futs!
Can I get a “hell yeah”?