As Long As YouTube Lives, So Will This Song!

Oh Matt, ya better run, run far. Why? Because even though the original animation that drove you insane has been pummelled off the internet by hits, I have founda replacement! Someone was thinking, and captured it on YouTube, and I, being an enormous loser, googled it out!

Ya wanna know what’s freaky? I finally know what this song is called, and there is a Wiki for the Finnish folk song from which this thing was derived, and the animation itself! Now, tell me, people, what is so fascinating about some videogame character spinning a leek? Tell me, tell me do! Is it just because it’s hypnotic, like the music?

So, finally, because the video fell down, I proved myself to be a giant loser, and solved the Dagga Dagga Doodoo mystery.

Trixie’s Got The Winter Blahs.

Trixie speaks
You know, I’m a pretty patient dog. I’ll put up with a lot of stuff. But there is a point where I’m going to lose it, and I think I’m reaching that point.

So first, this white stuff comes. Snow? Yeah, that’s it. Snow. I could deal with that, sort of. Then the city put down something on the sidewalk so the humans don’t slip and fall and hurt themselves. Maybe they should walk on all fours like smart dogs do so they’d have better balance. Anyway, this salt stuff. It hurts me. I step on it, and yeeeep! Then I start limping. Yeeep yeeep! Get it off! I kick my foot. Yeeep yeeep yeeeeeep! Carin frantically rubs my foot until I stop yeeeeping. She mutters something about “I’m sorry.” Sorry isn’t good enough. Stop walking me through the yeeeepy salt if you’re so sorry! Then people stare. Ya know what? I challenge any of them to walk on this stuff in bare feet and not yeeep.

Then, Carin does something very weird. She starts putting shoes on my feet. She’s all happy because she thinks she’s found shoes that will fit me. Then she walks me around the house and laughs at the way I go clip clop clip clop. She calls me her little horsey doggy. I put up with this. The shoes aren’t on very long. If this makes Carin laugh, I’ll put up with it. Then she walks me around the building. Ok, this public amusement is a little much.

Then, she expects me to work in these shoes! Work? Ok, let me get this straight. I’m supposed to focus on keeping both of us safe, which is harder now since the city doesn’t move the white stuff very well off the sidewalk, and I’m supposed to do this while all I can think about is how I have these shoes on my feet. Carin has to be out of her mind. She has to be.

I express my disgust at these shoe things. I run from her when I see her break out the shoes. Then she gets mad. I go to bed and stay there. She herself said my bed was my own personal zone, a zone that no one could invade. . But it seems she can break this rule. I can’t break any rules without hearing about it, but she can break all the rules she wants? She drags me from the bed and says I’m going to wear the shoes. No fair. No fair! No fair no fair no fair! I stamp my feet. I riggle. I twist my paws. I fight fight fight. She just hangs on and puts the shoes on anyway. She does give me kibble after each shoe. Hmmm. Something good comes from this. But it’s not good enough to make me happy. My tail still droops. I’m miserable.

I did manage to figure out a way to get them off. Do I chew on them? No. Do I shake my feet? Nope. But if I roll around in the snow when Carin takes me out to pee, that works. Or, when we’re walking, if I hit deep enough snow, that works too. Wooo! Something good can come from snowbanks.

After I did that enough times, something else changed. Not only did I have to wear the shoes, but I had to wear this other thing on my back that she attached the shoes to. If I wasn’t completely miserable before, now I was. I couldn’t move well because it would wiggle jiggle. It would tie up my tail. It wasn’t easy to sit, but she still wanted me to. It was so distracting, so much so that I would walk, stop, walk, stop, walk, stop. I couldn’t think about working at all! Not in the least!

Now, she doesn’t seem to make me wear shoes, not shoes that I can see anyway. Instead, she has this thing of goo that she gets out in the morning. She takes my paws and rubs this goo all over my pads and between the pads. I don’t like it much either, but maybe it’s better than those shoes. Maybe I’ve won! Maybe I’ve been liberated from those horrible shoes! But if the stuff wares off, I still yeeeep! So I’m still not happy.

I have never seen anything like this weather before. Now I understand why I have fur for my fur. Without that other fur, I shake shake shake! There is so much wind here some days. Sometimes, it feels like the wind is an actual thing. It pushes me. I lose my sense of direction. I just want to find the nearest entrance to a building and go in. We don’t walk very far anymore. I miss the long walks. But there’s no way I would walk very long in this horrible stuff. I just want the nice stuff to come back. Will it ever come back? Please, I’m looking up at the sky. Yeeep yeeep. I’m begging you. Can’t you hear me? Yeeep Yeeep yeeep! Bring the nice weather back!

Did They Do This On purpose?

Is it wrong that I think it’s funny that a story about illiteracy has a spelling error? I know it’s just one, but…

Update: It appears they listened to me! No, they probably listened to other people who complained to them about the spelling error. Either way, it’s fixed, and I’ve been made to look like a fool. But it’s better I look like a fool than a newspaper.

Is The Nimrod A Thing Or A Person?

Note to self. If I ever end up on an oil rig near Scotland, I should never tell anyone about my wacky dreams. They might freak out and evacuate the place. That’s what happened when one woman had a dream about a bomb being on the platform. They went nuts, called in helicopters, reconnaissance crafts, the army bomb squad, and all kinds of other crap, and now that there was no bomb, they’ve dragged the woman in for questioning! I guess they have to, to make sure it was in fact a dream, but if it was, the poor woman’s going to be having nightmares forever, and she won’t tell a soul.

On a sidenote, does anyone else think it’s weird that there are reconnaissance crafts called Nimrods?

Don’t You Have Something To Write?

Uh, I’m scared. I received the following in my email, and it sounds so much like me that either someone was watching me throughout university, or I wrote it between email checks!

*How to write a paper in college/university:*

1. Sit in a straight, comfortable chair in a well lit place in front of your computer.

2. Log onto MSN and ICQ (be sure to go on away!). Check your email.

3. Read over the assignment carefully, to make certain you understand it.

4. Walk down to the vending machines and buy some chocolate to help you concentrate.

5. Check your email.

6. Call up a friend and ask if he/she wants to go to grab a coffee. Just to get settled down and ready to work.

7. When you get back to your room, sit in a straight, comfortable chair in a clean, well lit place.

8. Read over the assignment again to make absolutely certain you understand it.

9. Check your email.

10. You know, you haven’t written to that kid you met at camp since fourth grade. You’d better write that letter now and get it out of the way so you can concentrate.

11. Look at your teeth in the bathroom mirror.

12. Grab some mp3z off of kazaa.

13. Check your email. ANY OF THIS SOUND FAMILIAR YET?!

14. MSN chat with one of your friends about the future. (ie summer plans).

15. Check your email.

16. Listen to your new mp3z and download some more.

17. Phone your friend on the other floor and ask if she’s started writing yet. Exchange derogatory remarks about your prof, the course, the college, the world at large.

18. Walk to the store and buy a pack of gum. You’ve probably run out.

19. While you’ve got the gum you may as well buy a magazine and read it.

20. Check your email.

21. Check the newspaper listings to make sure you aren’t missing something truly worthwhile on TV.

22. Play some solitare (or age of legends!).

23. Check out bored.com.

24. Wash your hands.

25. Call up a friend to see how much they have done, probably haven’t started either.

26. Look through your housemate’s book of pictures from home. Ask who everyone is.

27. Sit down and do some serious thinking about your plans for the future.

28. Check to see if bored.com has been updated yet.

29. Check your email and listen to your new mp3z.

30. You should be rebooting by now, assuming that windows is crashing on schedule.

31. Read over the assignment one more time, just for heck of it.

32. Scoot your chair across the room to the window and watch the sunrise.

33. Lie face down on the floor and moan.

34. Punch the wall and break something.

35. Check your email.

36. Mumble obscenities.

37. 5am – start hacking on the paper without stopping. 6am -paper is finished.

38. Complain to everyone that you didn’t get any sleep because you had to write that stupid paper.

39. Go to class, hand in paper, and leave right away so you can take a nap.

So I guess I wasn’t the only chronic procrastinator out there. I like the sprinkling in of the playing of solitare. That was so me it’s scary.

Welcome To Wal-Mart. You Got Any Spare Change?

According to a recent survey conducted by police in Coos Bay, Oregon,
the panhandlers that hang around outside of the local Wal-Mart make in a day what clerks inside make in a week.

I’m not sure if I feel more shocked that this is allowed to happen in a so-called civilized society or guilty that I unapologetically shop there in spite of my knowing how evil that company is.

I suppose if anything stories like this blow the Wal-Mart creates good jobs argument they like to use when they take over a new town right out of the water.

Out, Demon, Out!

This story is just riddled with good stuff, so riddled that I’m having trouble forming a coherent thought.

In the town of Poczernin, Poland, there is a priest named Andrzej Trojanowski wanting to set up an exorcism center. Exorcists say, and I quote, “Typical cases include people who turn away from the church and embrace New Age therapies, alternative religions or the occult. Internet addicts and yoga devotees are also at risk.”

Um…how tradditional are exorcisms? I know they’ve been around a while, but so has Yoga. Watch yourself.

A few lines later, Trojanowski says “conventional medical therapy often neglects spiritual ailments.” What does that make exorcism? Hmm. That would be an alternative therapy. Do we need another exorcism for the exorcised because they turned to exorcism? I see an infinite loop forming.

Another fine point is exorcists say they’re careful not to treat the mentally ill. Um, isn’t being possessed by demons what people used to call mental illness? And how do they know if someone’s mentally ill or possessed by demons? It seems like a very difficult line to walk. Are they acting weird because of schizophrenia, or because Satan is telling them to? Is that the voices or the voice of Satan? How can they ever know?

One example I thought was weird was that of a woman who renewed her wedding vows as part of marriage counselling, *this becomes important*, and then days later, wanted a divorce. They said this had to be a work of Satan, because how could she develop such a strong hatred for her husband so fast? Uh, they were in therapy. The marriage wasn’t working. Maybe she realized that renewing her vows was a mistake and everything came to the surface. The kicker is that happened four years ago, and they’re still trying to help this “afflicted wife.” So that exorcism thing is rreally working for ya, isn’t it?

all this proves is the same old thing. Religion is full of contradictions, and can’t hope to say anything that manages to make sense.