Much Love to the Google Help Group and Panther

Oh! Watch me dance! Dance and dance and dance! Do you wanna know why? Because a very nice person helped me tweak the code so hopefully it looks better.

Here’s a note to anyone who’s blogging with Blogger. If you need any help at all with your blog, hoof it on over to the Blogger Help group and sign up to the how do I section. You’ll have to have a google account of some variety to sign up. Don’t worry. Even though there are like 35000 members, they only send you one email per day with all the threads in it. If you’re lucky, you will get helped by a user known as Panther. He is the awesome. I need to learn where he got his infinite patience and get some immediately. He put up with my endless barrage of questions and need to nitpick over the details. He also was very cool about the blindness thing.

Not only does he help out the hoards of blogger users, he runs 3 blogs. All Blog Templates Collection, Beta Blogger for Dummies, and Making Money with Google Adsense, Blogging and SEO.

I need to learn a lot from this wise man, and maybe he can help you too. Thank you, Panther!

Hey! Buddy! You do have the Right to Remain Silent, you know!

Um wow. Just when you don’t think you can possibly hear of someone being more stupid, you read this story. I can no longer write. I’m still laughing.

A Monroe man allegedly was amazed when told his estranged wife’s boyfriend survived a Nov. 30 knife attack, Snohomish County prosecutors said Thursday.

“What? I thought I stuck him like a pig … What do you mean he’s alive?” Marshall N. Byers, 28, allegedly said after his arrest.

Prosecutors included Byers’ alleged statement when they charged him in Snohomish County Superior Court with attempted first-degree murder and first-degree burglary.

Police think Byers broke into his estranged wife’s house in Monroe and stabbed her boyfriend in the chest and back while he was sleeping. The man, 28, was treated for five knife wounds, deputy prosecutor George Appel said in court papers.

Byers was tracked down in Eastern Washington after he reportedly bragged to a truck stop clerk that he was “on the run,” and she later called police.

When questioned by detectives, the defendant was surprised the stabbing victim was still alive and also told detectives that he had “premeditated the whole thing,” writing about it in his journal, Appel said.

When detectives examined a notebook containing what they believe are Byers’ writings, they found a passage wishing his estranged wife an “unspeakable” death.

“Her boyfriend, HA HA HA Boy o Boy he sure doesn’t have a clue what’s coming,” the passage allegedly continued.

Byers also allegedly told police he was high on methamphetamine during the attack, Appel said.

Well, at least he’ll make their job really easy for them. I love how it says police *think* he broke in and stabbed the guy. Um, wow. Talk about your honest criminal. Someone should sew his mouth shut for his own good.

Are Thoughts Flukes for Fluckes?

Here are a couple of tips for the would-be user of a counterfeit cheque:

  • When you pull into Wal-Mart and you see 40 police cruisers in the parking lot, it is wise to suppose that perhaps now is not a good time to use the cheque.

  • If you decide to push on, thinking that the occupants of these cruisers might be elsewhere, think again when you find 80 uniformed officers filling the store’s aisles for a charity event.

If you don’t follow these two simple rules, you’ll end up like Calvin Fluckes JR. of Detroit who, after finding 40, that’s forty, police cruisers in the Wal-Mart parking lot, still tried to pay for merchandise with a poorly-photocopied, fake cheque for $848. Surprise surprise, he was quickly apprehended.

What! the hell! was this man thinking? I don’t know, if I was going to commit a crime, I wouldn’t do it where 80 people who could throw me in jail were right on location. At the very least, I’d decide to do it another day. If I were half-way smart, I’d think that since they’re all busy at Wal-Mart, I might have a chance with this cheque if I took it across town to the Home Depot. But that’s miles beyond the capabilities of our hero here.

I think the best part was a police officer openly calling him an idiot. Yes! He is an idiot! There is no argument!

Until Death Do Us Part? So We’re Talking Five Years?

When I first saw this mentioned in News of the Weird, I laughed. Now, when I read more, I still chuckle, but it’s less funny and more thought-provoking.

Let’s start off with the funny. Would you believe that 30 death row inmates have online profiles on dating sites? I didn’t at first either. They’re real cute on their profiles, saying things like “I think I’m a pretty funny guy. I have a wacked [sic] sense of humor. I can be a big kid at heart. I’m a hopeless (and I mean hopeless) romatic [sic].”

Well, ya got the hopeless part right, partner. What would your cheesy lines be? So…my place or mine? Or, I want to be with you until the end of my time. How about, I would give my last breath for your love. Oh wait. That’s not gonna work so well. That’ll move everything way too fast!

Then I thought, who the hell would date these guys? When I read more about their profiles, I found out that they don’t really disguise their death row status. Some of them even have pictures of themselves and blogs of their day to day lives, as it were. I think it’s twisted, but I can half understand someone getting to know a prisoner who’s going to get out and then falling in love with them. I still might think they’re a fool depending on what their hot prison lover did, but I can *maybe* understand it. But why would you date someone who’s never going to leave that cell? Your closest contact is going to be with the telephone receiver. I guess you can have phone sex then. Har har that was corny.

But this story gets more interesting. The discovery of profiles belonging to dead men walking has brought up an interesting point. These guys aren’t allowed to have internet! So someone else is posting the stuff for them. Plus, crime victim advocacy groups are mad and attacking MySpace, where these profiles were found, saying that they shouldn’t have been allowed in the first place.

Ok, so let me get this straight. These groups are saying that, on top of running a huge website, these people are going to have to do criminal background checks of everyone who signs up for a MySpace account? Would you submit to such a check? I don’t think so! So how do these people expect MySpace to screen out death row inmates? I agree that once you’ve found one and he’s doing illegal things on there, flag the account and nuke it! But I don’t see how these groups think MySpace is going to prevent them from getting on. I think that, if MYSpace had even thought about this possibility coming to light, they would have found the lack of internet privileges to be a pretty significant barrier. Who’s going to think that Uncle Joe is going to post stuff for a death row inmate? The thought would have never crossed my mind.

I love how they say that it’s horrible what these inmates are doing because MySpace is a place where young people gather to socialize and these people are making it unsafe. I think these groups have more to worry about when it comes to pedophiles who sign up than guys who have no hope of getting out. I agree that kids shouldn’t be going to meet guys on death row, but that’s where parents step in. It’s not MySpace’s job to supervise the nation’s kids! God, people forget that the point of MySpace is to be an unrestricted place where people sign up, and say whatever they want. When you creat that, some of the wrong people are going to come on board. So don’t blame MySpace, blame human nature.

Sure I understand the rage at the idea that some sicko is trying to get some kind of fan club going. But to that I say, direct your rage appropriately. Help to remove the accounts that need to be removed! Help MySpace wipe out illegal content! Don’t stand there and demand they do it all themselves. Help!

I Rest My Case

I don’t know what I’d recommend, but I don’t think going on a hunger strike when you’re on death row seems like an effective negotiation strategy. I agree the conditions he’s describing sound absolutely horrible and not fit for any living creature to live in, but when they have you in somewhere because you’re going to die, making yourself die sooner doesn’t seem like a good idea. I think this would be even less effective than going on a hunger strike to fight for raw milk.

Donate your Integrity to UNICEF today!

Man, all I can say when I read this story is, oh the irony.

Staff at UNICEF in South Asia are getting increasingly upset with the fact that the organization has partnered with Guchi for fund-raising purposes, with good reason. Here’s something that will kick your campaign, and your good name, squarely in the nuts. Guchi is owned by PPR. It has some Asian suppliers who like to use sweatshops to help lower some operating costs. Of course, we know that sweatshops like to exploit the very people UNICEF is trying to help. Um, oh dear. That’s bad, very very bad. How could somebody have not noticed that little detail? You’d think that, when partnering with an organization, you’d do a little research first. They must be really desperate for money. Ug I hate it when charities go bad. I’m just glad someone has the balls to fight to try and redeem them. I hope it can be done.

What is Butt Dust?

I got this sent to me, and since it made me laugh so hard I almost peed myself and Steve had to ask what all the shrieking was about, I think it belongs up here. Maybe it’s just my state of mind, but I thought it was awesome. I love the gifts from the inbox.

What is Butt Dust?
What, you ask, is “Butt Dust”? Read on and you’ll discover the joy in a child’s sincere originality. No adult is this creative!!

JACK (age 3) was watching his Mom breast-feeding his new baby sister. After a while he asked: “Mom why have you got two? Is one for hot and one for cold milk?”

MELANIE (age 5) asked her Granny how old she was. Granny replied she was so old she didn’t remember any more. Melanie said, “If you don’t remember you must look in the back of your panties. Mine say five to six .”

>STEVEN (age 3) hugged and kissed his Mom good night. “I love you so much that when you die I’m going to bury you outside my bedroom window.”

BRITTANY (age 4) had an earache and wanted a pain killer. She tried in vain to take the lid off the bottle. Seeing her frustration, her Mom explained it was a child-proof cap and she’d have to open it for her. Eyes wide with wonder, the little girl asked: “How does it know it’s me?”

SUSAN(age 4) was drinking juice when she got the hiccups. “Please don’t give me this juice again,” she said, “It makes my teeth cough.”

DJ (age 4) stepped onto the bathroom scale and asked: “How much do I cost?”

>MARC (age 4) was engrossed in a young couple that were hugging and kissing in a restaurant. Without taking his eyes off them, he asked his dad: “Why is he whispering in her mouth?”

>CLINTON(age 5) was in his bedroom looking worried. When his Mom asked what was troubling him, he replied, “I don’t know what’ll happen with this bed when I get married. How will my wife fit in?”

JAMES(age 4) was listening to a Bible story. His dad read: “The man named Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city but his wife looked back and was turned to salt.” Concerned, James asked: “What happened to the flea?”

TAMMY(age 4) was with her mother when they met an elderly, rather wrinkled woman her Mom knew. Tammy looked at her for a while and then asked, “Why doesn’t your skin fit your face?”

The Sermon I think this Mom will never forget…. this particular Sunday sermon…”Dear Lord,” the minister began, with arms extended toward heaven and a rapturous look on his upturned face. “Without you, we are but
>dust…” He would have continued but at that moment my very obedient daughter who was listening leaned over to me and asked quite audibly in her shrill little four year old girl voice, “Mom, what is butt dust?”

I think there’s only one quote in there that freaked me out. Can you guess which one? Hope you enjoyed that.

Volunteer?

It looks like the guy who wanted to tattoo breakfast on someone’s head has found himself a volunteer. Yes, I said volunteer, as in will not be getting paid for this.

There’s no way I would ever allow anyone to do that to me, but at least the guy who has decided he will is going to try to raise a little money for a good cause, which is nice. I’d say everybody wins, but eventually young Blane Dickinson is probably going to come to the realization that he’s got a menu etched into his skull, and that he may have, in fact, lost.

A Black Day

I apologize if this post doesn’t make much sense. I’m in a bit of a haze, but I need to try and write something because a. something’s telling me I should and b. I like to have things up on the blog when they happen so they’re there to look back on. This is a bit of a downer, but I’m sure I’ll be back with something funny, if I can make my words convey the meaning I want.

I got some news last night that just can’t help but shake me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I got the news because I want to know when these things happen. But it’s the reason for this haze. A friend phoned me and told me that a friend of hers killed himself last week, and she just found out now. I didn’t know this guy well, but I met him. He had a big heart and he was a very funny guy. He cared about her and seemed to want to protect her. He seemed to love life. Then somewhere, something went horribly wrong. I refuse to speculate about what it may have been. He’s the only one who knows. I refuse to make assumptions because that can only bring bullshit. All I’ll say is he’s gone now, and what a tragedy. What an empty void he has left. So many questions, no answers, no way to turn things around and pull him from the pit of whatever he was in at the end. No way to replace what is gone forever.

I know that if someone decides to truly end it, there’s nothing in the world any of us could have done to prevent it, it is only his own will to live that stands between life and death, and if that was broken, there is no intervention, no magic words, no pills, nothing that could have really saved him. He has to decide that he wants to live, above all. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t try and reach out and help people who give us a sign that they’re thinking about ending it. That attempt to save them might rebuild their will to live a little. I’m just saying if they do end up taking their own life, we shouldn’t blame ourselves, it’s not our fault.

But somehow, even knowing that doesn’t make the questions stop coming. The head and the heart are two different animals. Shock sets in. I just can’t believe that he would do this. It doesn’t seem to make any sense. I never knew he was having any problems. Then a part of me mentally slaps me silly and says “Why would you know? He was barely an acquaintance. He made goofy jokes while we were walking to a birthday party. He walked with you and your friend to the beer store. You shot back and forth the occasional message on MSN Messenger. That is the sum total of your contact with him. Get over yourself.” But it doesn’t make it any easier and it doesn’t make the grief any less powerful. It was so unexpected. So completely out of the blue. So like getting crushed by a freight train.

Perhaps what makes this worse is that it happened right around the time when, four years ago, someone much closer to me than a passing acquaintance took his own life in the same way as this guy. I didn’t know him super well, but he was a lot closer. I went to school with him. Steve and I shared an apartment with his brother. And just like this one, it was, for me, unexpected.

I hope everybody whose lives were touched by this will take the time they need to heal, and realize that it’s ok to cry and it’s ok if you’re not crying. It’s ok to feel empty. It’s ok to feel…whatever you feel, be it rage, sadness, numbness, guilt, or all of the above in a thought soup. Just feel what you feel, and if you can, let the guilt pass, at least in your head. It wasn’t your fault. You did what you could, this was his choice. Don’t try to bury this. Deal with it in the way that feels right for you, and when you’re ready, move on. Talk to each other. You are not alone. And try to remember the good things about him. Hopefully he is at peace now, and you can find some of your own eventually.

When She Leaves the Room, Does She Have to Grease the Door?

Oh my god. I wish they’d given either the specific weight of this woman, or the dimensions of some of the narrower tunnels. Maybe I’ll have to do more research, just because I’m such a prick. I can’t even imagine being in this situation. I think it’s prickish to make fun of someone for being a wee bit chunky, but after reading this, I don’t think I’m out of line to make fun of this tubby tourist as they put it. I’m still laughing.

Overweight tourist traps tour in South African cave

A corpulent holidaymaker felt a bit of a turkey on New Year’s Day after getting stuck between rocks in a South African cave, trapping 22 tourists for over ten hours.

Staff at the Cango Caves in Western Cape had politely warned the tubby tourist that she may have difficulties in some of the tighter parts of the intricate rock formation.

“She was forewarned at the ticket office that she might have difficulty, but she and her husband insisted she should take part in the adventure,” said Hein Gerstner, manager of the tourist attraction.

He explained that the safety team eventually “used liquid paraffin to grease the surface area and a pulley to lift her” but “there was permission granted to drill or to cut rock in a worse-case scenario”.

“It would have been a last resort,” he added.

One of the tourists trapped in the “Tunnel of Love” was a diabetic, but rescuers were eventually able to climb over the trapped woman and provide them with insulin.

Are you on the floor yet? Oh, the visions! She must have been huuuuuuge to be warned at the ticket office that Gee, Ma’am, you might not fit in the caves. And can you imagine having to use liquid wax to grease the rocks and then winch her out like some kind of sunken ship? Um wow! I feel for her, because I’m sure news cameras would have been all over this. I love how they call her “corpulent” but don’t tell you exactly how “corpulent” she was. I hope she made real good friends after being stuck with these folks for 10 hours. I think next time she wants to plan a trip, Moooo-xico would be a better choice.