Cyli (link to her blog above) has fallen madly in love with the Complimenting Complimenter. Okay, maybe not madly in love, but she did do a great thing and find 100 blogs and sites that she loved, and compiled a list of said 100 blogs and sites.
And guess what? She had pink hair once, so she’s added me to the list!
No, I’m just kidding. I mean, she did have pink hair once, but apparently she thinks I’m really funny and amazing and talented and possibly the most fantastic blog writer on the planet, and she thinks I should be nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for blog writing, and, okay, none of that is true.
She likes my blog, though, and I think that’s great.
And she’s great for going to all the trouble of not only finding 100 blogs that she really likes, but to write a post listing them, linking to them, and writing a bit about them!
Cyli, you’re super cool!
Google Talk
In other news, you probably woke up this morning and turned on your computer and saw that the rumors were true-Google has come out with an instant messaging and talk service. Now, apparently it won’t yet communicate with any other IM service, and you can only talk to someone on a computer, not from your computer to their regular or cell phone, but you know Google! One more cog in their take-over-the-world wheel.
See the thing is, I love Google and I want them to take over the world. So I’m buying right in to all their stuff. I briefly tried IMing many years ago, but didn’t really get into it. But what’s the first thing I did after reading about Google Talk? That’s right. I immediately downloaded it.
Of course, no one else on the planet has done so yet, so I have no one to IM with. Plus, I don’t have a microphone, so I can’t talk to anyone.
I e-mailed an invite for it to my best friend in Seattle, and hopefully she’ll get out of bed soon and answer my invite, which would be handy, because we tend to talk for several hours at a time, and though I try to call her from my cell with free long distance, I still have to pay for the minutes, and yadda yadda blah blah this post is turning into one of those annoying bloggy posts where the poster literally types out every damned thought that is going through his or her head as he or she thinks it and I’m pretty sure none of you give a shit about me using up my minutes to talk to my friend Susan.
Whidbey Island CatMan guy
Here’s the first thing I’m going to ask Susan when she and I start wasting our entire lives IMing each other hilarious things: I’m going to tell her to get on a freaking ferry over to Whidbey Island, find the Tiger Guy, get her picture taken with him, and maybe her kids too, because they’re real adventurous types and probably wouldn’t run screaming for the hills from the guy who looks like a tiger, and I’m going to tell her to ask the guy a few questions. Isn’t that a fantastic idea?
I have found since posting about the Tiger Guy that I have a few readers who live on Whidbey Island, so I could save Susan a little time and money and ask that reader to do it. But, Sus is my best friend, you know?
Anyhoo, I think I’ve had too much coffee today.
So, back to Google Talk, I have no idea what kind of sneaky plan Google has up their sleeves with this thing, but you can bet your booty that it involves, down the line, the entire world being connected wirelessly, directly to their brains, all communicating at once.
Edit: I’ll throw this out there: If I have any readers who live on Whidbey Island, or who are going to visit it soon, I think it would be fan fucking tastic if you found the Tiger Guy, told him that I’m really curious, terrified, but curious, about him, and get your picture taken with him. Ask him a question or two, something along the lines of, “Did all that hurt?” or “Do you run around in the woods and catch animals and eat them raw?” or “Can you actually chew anything with those fucking fangs you’ve got going on there?” or “What the fuck is wrong with you, freaky Tiger Guy?” or “Don’t you realize that you are scaring young children? Why don’t you go live in a fucking cave?” or “Gee, Mr. Tiger Guy, that looks really cool. Can I get a picture with you?” or “Do you have to wash that off every night?” or “How long does it take to put that mask on every morning?” or “What do you mean, it’s not a mask? You’ve what? You’ve had $200,000 worth of plastic surgery, implants and tattoos in order to look like that every single day for the rest of your life? What the fuck is wrong with you? C’mon kids, let’s get the hell away from this guy!”
Okay, so you get the picture. I would, actually, recommend approaching this guy slowly and being really nice and do your best not to throw up on his feet, because he might actually be turning into a tiger, and he might eat you if you’re mean to him.
But I do want pictures, and I do want you to ask him something. And then I want you to e-mail me the photo and whatever he tells you, and I’ll write a post about it. No, I don’t think it would be a good idea for you steal this idea from me. I own this idea. This here is MY idea. I’ll offer you an incentive, and that is, I will write a glowing tribute to you and your blog, iff’n ya got one, that is, and I’ll add you to my blogroll. Then, after the blogohell discovers this neat feature of my blog, about the Tiger Man, and I’m getting millions of visitors a day, you’ll be famous for being the first person to get their picture taken with the Tiger Guy and sending it to me.
My e-mail isn’t yet over in my sidebar, because things are still kind of getting pulled together here, so here it is now: viki at vikibabbles.com. I may or may not be preventing myself from getting a shitload of spam with that little “at” trick, but whatever.
I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. I think I’d better go run around the block a few times, or else go back to bed.
You know, I’m sure the Tiger Guy isn’t the only guy on the planet who is a complete lunatic and has tattooed and surgeried himself into the shape of another species. So, I’ll add this to the challenge: if you see some OTHER guy, not the Tiger Guy, who has done something similarly fucked up (and I don’t just mean some guy with lots of piercings or tattoos, I mean, this needs to be EXTREME. You have to think to yourself, “Now THAT guy, or girl, would really freak Viki out!” If they’ll let you take their picture, do so, with yourself in it preferably, and ask them a question, something along the lines of, “Viki of VikiBabbles really needs to know why in the hell you would do something like this, and she also wants to know if you’ll let your kids get tattoos when they get older, and if you think you’ll look really weird when you get old and all this shit starts to sag off your body and you become a freak of non-nature. She also wants to know what the fuck is wrong with you.”
This is all in good fun, folks. I really don’t give a shit what people do to their bodies. I’ve got tattoos! I’m getting a new one soon!
But I DO want to understand what makes people go to these extremes.
So, there you go, people. It’s a challenge! Email me your weirdnesses, and get the weirdnesses to tell you why they’re so weird, and I’ll post it, and feature your blog. Okay? Okay.
