Whatever.

Guy posts provocative diatribes and family pictures under the same unusual moniker, and several somebodys Google it. That isn't even in the same universe as, say, posting an invisible IP sniffer in a thread, following the dotted quad upstream, discovering the attached employer and narking to the boss.

But, you know. Whatever.

that's just the whole integrity kick we're on

Jeesh. This was handled quietly about 12 hours ago. I'm no fan of geoff but why don't you make him feel more crappy than he already does for a minor faux pas. It must be the nyquil talking.

Now, if we could just do something about the numb nuts here that can't be bothered to put a made up name on a comment...

I don't want Geoff to be singled out here. I don't know exactly how, but I'm sure I'm to blame for all of this. Fine, whatever.

By the way, I know I make some over-the-top statements at times to push my point across. 90% of what I say is tongue-in-cheek. 9% is serious and thoughtful. The last 1% is my over-use of hyphenated words.

What I mean to say is don't take everything I write so literally (except for the stuff about homos).
See? I can't help it.

P.S. Tubino is still a piece of shit, though. And thanks to geoff, I now know where he lives.
I'm kidding.
It's a joke.
Relax.

Really.

Just

A

Joke.

Michael is, most likely, a profoundly gay man.

S. Weasel,

No, it's not the same, but it's the same kind of idea.

And if you re-read what I wrote, I think you'll see I didn't exactly take Geoff out to the woodshed. I said he kinda-sorta erred, and I said he manned up, and I also noted, as you did, that the guy had the picture up himself.

And he wears tights. And brags about it.

I think the whole thing speaks well of the crew here (geoff included); that's why I hang out here. I hope geoff does't feel crappy, because he did the right thing, and intended no wrong to begin with. But this kind of thing can lead to "unintended consequences" disasters via the all-seeing eye of Google and Yahoo.

There's a long and fruitful topic for discussion on the whole topic of privacy in the digital (and nano-tech) age. Is it a right or a privilege? Are there rules of etiquette? What are they?

We are writing history right now, and it pleases me that we are trying to do it right. Attaboys all around, geoff included.

http://anonymouse.org/anonwww.html

That's a link for an easy to use html anonymizer. Pop in the address and you're fine.

For a better solution, google "anonymous + public + proxy + server", find a list and start popping different server addresses into your browser's connection settings. In Firefox, Tools > Options > General > Connection settings > Manual Proxy Configuration. Once you put in those settings, just turn them on anytime you think someone might fuck with you.

They'll get an IP but it will be to some random server in Mexico City, Seoul or Milwaukee.

Word to the wise, if you're doing this from work, this won't keep your internal admin from seeing what you're doing.

Michael is, most likely, a profoundly gay man

We report, you decide

No, it's not the same, but it's the same kind of idea.

Yeah. In the same way Abu Ghraib and Auschwitz are the same kind of idea. In an idiotically superficial way.

But, hey, I've been doing this online thing since 1985. What do I know? I'll just go over there and put some panties on my head in penance, shall I?

Monty,

I agree. I don't think what Geoff did was so horrid to begin with, and I thought it was classy to say he erred (even to the extent he did). That's why I didn't really think I was beating up on Geoff in the first place.

Still, while this wasn't so bad, I wanted to make my preference about this clear.

S.,

I guess this is when I, too, say "Whatever." I've more or less agreed with you in broad terms but unless I agree to your precise phraseology, I'm an asshole.

As you say, "Whatever."

You know, sometimes I think we suffer from remorse. Like it's a virus or something.

I suffered from 'remorse' once, when I was a young man. Penicillin took care of it though.

I've noticed blog threads getting more dangerous lately, everything from threats and private emails to the previously mentioned college incident where the professor hunted down the conservative poster.

I'm afraid in the next year that politics may turn into violence like it did in the 60's.

Brew and Dave, can you guys be serious for two minutes? Sheesh. Is everything an opportunity for a one-liner or a jab at someone?

Monty, while you're on your pedestal, could you explain the origins of Kwanza to us?

Is everything an opportunity for a one-liner or a jab at someone?

Pretty much.

Hey, now that this is all straightened out, can we get back to talking about, well, me?

Or do I have to go ahead with my plan of drawing a stick figure labeled "Melissa Theuriau" giving a hand job to another stick figure named "Ted" while the latter points his enormous wang toward an American flag?

That's the kind of dissent I like to call the deepest form of patriotism.

BTW Bart, Hope this helps!

Monty, while you're on your pedestal, could you explain the origins of Kwanza to us?

I could, but why should I? What's the benefit to me? Who'll be paying me my honorarium? And of course I'll require a limo, bottled water, and various fresh fruits in my dressing room. My people will contact your people with full details, along with the names of my business manager and entourage.

(Don't try to out-wise-ass the Master, sonny. I was crackin wise to the Man when you were still a warm ooze in your momma's buttcrack.)

Mrs. Toobino was kinda-sorta hot. What a shame.

Gee, why do I think Tubino has just joined us?

Good job! Traffic Santa linked to this post!

Made you look. :)

me hav cunfeshun. michal is my illigitimit son

lol!

Brew and Dave, can you guys be serious for two minutes?

two consecutive minutes?

"Lonestar, now you see that evil shall always triumph, because good is dumb" Lord Dark Helmet.

Finally, plover makes some goddamn sense.

So, Plover (or should I say, Mom), I was rereading an old thread about a week ago just for fun, and you had posted a comment two or three days after the thread had expired.

Curious, I checked some other lengthy, long dead threads, and you kept showing up as a commenter two or three days after the thread had expired.

What's up with that? Do you save your best stuff for when nobody is listening?

C'mon, Mom. Break out of your shell.

Sigh. Well, my chagrin-meter is maxed. Now I'm keeping fine company with Andrew Sullivan, Nattering Ninny. Thanks for all the edifying comments (and the others, as well).

But I'd like to think that some good could come from this, so . . . perhaps this thread could be turned into a flamethread?

perhaps this thread could be turned into a flamethread?

oh now it's "hurt me, hurt me" is it?

cocksucker.

oh now it's "hurt me, hurt me" is it?

Doesn't have to be me in particular, of course. In fact I encourage you to explore the space. Guitar-humping Christmas fag.

Hey Dave, I really enjoyed your little homespun tale about how the nostalgia tree got shuttled to the back room.

Did it ever occur to you that, instead of having your bizarre tacky tradition pooped upon, you may have been lucky enough to have married a classy dame?

Maybe this should have crossed your mind when she threw away all your waistbands-and-shreds you used to call 'underwear,' dressed you correctly, took down the Abba posters, put up curtains, tossed your parachute pants, and taught you how to clean the crust out of your eyes before you left the house.

I'm just posing an inquiry here. This is not a flame.

Great point, Laura. That's what guys are looking for from women -- somneone to tell us what to do and make us live differently than we'd like.

You take that, snuggling, talking, and all the whining and bitching around your periods (what do they last now? Three weeks straight?), and it's no wonder we love you so.

Jeebus!
It sounds like cranberry juice night at the old folks home.
Nothing but pissin' and moanin'.
Way too serious.

lauraw,

I thought about that for a few minutes. Then I dismissed it completely. She's just a snob.

Still, that's good for me.

that crap about cars and boys and college made you cry, didn't it?

It's ok toots. Our little secret.

From earlier thread:

Hey, AoSHQCQCD! Has anybody ever told you that you are not, in fact, particularly funny?

Yes, Weasel, I have been told that many times, but I don't care, because, frankly, I crack myself up all the time.

Has anyone told you that you are not, in fact, a particularly good cocksucker?

To quote Laura: I'm just posing an inquiry here. This is not a flame.

Doesn't have to be me in particular, of course. In fact I encourage you to explore the space. Guitar-humping Christmas fag.

From the rumours I've heard about you, I wouldn't talk about "exploring" any type of "space", Semen-slurping ass-bandit.

With Love, hot kisses and copious back-scrubbing...
cheshirecat

I know it doesn't sound so attractive to you, Ace, since you like the Frathouse-cum-Cum lifestyle, but some men really do like women, and appreciate a fine home.

No, really!

Great point, Laura. That's what guys are looking for from women -- somneone to tell us what to do and make us live differently than we'd like.

Actually, that's what Mrs. Michael does. Except for the Batman suit (which she doesn't know about).

So, I can't go to work with crust in my eyes. Does that make me a faggot?

Living with a woman is really complicated.

Thank God the pool boy gives me some time to myself.

With Love, hot kisses and copious back-scrubbing...

Uh, what were we talking about?

Ace,

I realize that women aren't really people in the strictest sense of the word, but we sort of have to be nice to them or they won't put out. The key is to find a stupid chick who has lots of tattoos and low self-esteem. And big hooters.

...but some men really do like women, and appreciate a fine home.

Yes, we call these men "Homosexuals."

Does that make me a faggot?

No, it's not that.

geoff, you have made an impression tonight!

Uh, what were we talking about?

You tease...

So, if I had Cedarford's real name and address you guy's wouldn't be interested?

I miss the classic trolls.

Monty,

Yes, we have to "be nice to them" of course, and really listen, and by "listen," I mean ignore them, but simply wait for "response cues" (when their incessant high-pitched nonsensical babbling ends for three seconds) to offer an appropriate answer:

1. "Yes, everyone at your workplace sucks. You're much better than they are."

2. "You're right, she shouldn't have said that. She's a bitch. Actually, she should be slapped around like the dirty whore she is."

3. "Do those pants make your ass look fat? Hah-- fat like a fox!"

Yes, we have to "be nice to them" of course

I do this by using little terms of endearment like this: "Why, no, your astonishing weight gain does not make you less attractive to me! I like a woman with some meat on her bones! Now roll your ginormous keister into the kitchen and make me a sammy, Sasquatch."

Now roll your ginormous keister into the kitchen and make me a sammy, Sasquatch

against counsel's advice, I'm sure.

So, if I had Cedarford's real name and address you guy's wouldn't be interested?

I miss the classic trolls.

Hah! I was right!

BRING BACK CEDARFORD!

Michael outed

against counsel's advice, I'm sure.

Apparently, there's some "mental anguish" clause in the divorce statutes which stipulates that calling one's spouse "Sasquatch" entitles that spouse to your entire DVD collection. It was an expensive lesson, but a good one to take into my next disaster...ah, relationship.

How hard can it be to find a gorgeous yet dumb woman with DD pontoons who is willing to subject herself to the filthiest acts imaginable in the privacy of the bedchamber and yet will retain a maidenly modesty while in public? Is that so much to ask? I mean, it's not like women are precisely people, but even so, you'd think there'd be one or two of these creatures roaming about!

Pfft. You see how sensitive I am! And my ex told me I lacked empathy and never paid enough attention to her. Or something like that; I wasn't really listening.

Is that so much to ask?

oh preachin to the choir brother, preachin to the choir.

personally I think it takes a hell of a lot of money.

call it a working theory.

BRING BACK CEDARFORD!

Uh, no. I hope they bury him with his face under Pat Buchanan's asscrack, as Seedy's last will and testament dictates.

Michael is, most likely, a profoundly gay man.

When did he become profound?

That is IT.

I'm putting you rat-bastards in the newsletter. You know we women have one, right?

All your gonads are gonna be in drydock for the next six months.
Buy stock in any company that sells lotion.

All your gonads are gonna be in drydock for the next six months.

You think that's a threat to this crew?

Cheese it, copper. We can do six months standin' on our heads.

Yes, we have to "be nice to them" of course, and really listen, and by "listen," I mean ignore them, but simply wait for "response cues" (when their incessant high-pitched nonsensical babbling ends for three seconds) to offer an appropriate answer

No, no, no, Ace. There's more to it.

You have to make and hold eye contact, for long periods of time (up to 20 seconds) while you're pretending to be interested. And you have to control your blink rate. It takes practice.

Hey guys, I'm here. . . what I miss?

Oh.

Never mind.

Cheers,
Dave at Garfield Ridge

I'm putting you rat-bastards in the newsletter. You know we women have one, right?

Wait...you're saying that women read? I thought you were a guy! Who taught you? Are you like some freak of nature, or can just any woman read? And does your little newsletter have actual "news", or does it just have stuff about celebrities and dieting and how to please a man (i.e., a real person) in the sack?

See, this is just strange to me. It's like finding out your dog can talk, or something. Say something else! This is kind of cool, in a freaky way!

ACE OUTED!

Shortly after the operation.

I do this by using little terms of endearment like this: "Why, no, your astonishing weight gain does not make you less attractive to me! I like a woman with some meat on her bones! Now roll your ginormous keister into the kitchen and make me a sammy, Sasquatch."

Stop! Please, Monty, stop! If I don't stop laughing uncontrollably, Mrs. Michael is going to come into the smoke-infested den and want to know what's so funny.

Men are so simple and easy.

Put out at least once a day and they are pliable, happy puppies who will do whatever you want.

That is your free peek into the newsletter.

Apparently, there's some "mental anguish" clause in the divorce statutes which stipulates that calling one's spouse "Sasquatch" entitles that spouse to your entire DVD collection. It was an expensive lesson, but a good one to take into my next disaster...ah, relationship.

Um, I have repeatedly referred to Lipstick as a "Sasquatch".

I have an extensive DVD collection.

Lipstick, honey, I just don't think we are right for each other. I hereby withdraw my proposal.

Maybe I should have mentioned that I'm already married to Mrs. Michael. If I forgot this, I'm sorry.

We will always have the memory of those two nights in Reno!

Previous comment was me. Sorry, Lipstick.

Darling heart Lipstick, I've been with the same guy for eight years, married for seven. I love him more than my first love, which seems unbelievable to me.

Before that I was with my first love for nine years.

In between them was a year of searching (and some near-misses thank goodness).

But I digress.
What I meant to say was, SHUT YOUR FACE.

Face now shut. I will not reveal any more secrets of the newsletter. Very, very bad of me.

And Michael, was that you crying outside my hotel room in Reno? Sorry that security got a little nasty and called you a sissy and laughed at your batman suit.

'Night all.

For a moment there I thought Lauraw was going to tell us about her sex life. Which of course I'd be interested in since I am heterosexual. A damn proud heterosexual.

Michael was rejected at my door just prior to him coming to you in Reno, Lipstick. Since Mrs. Michael is giving it up to a few 'friends' she doesn't have time for him - hence, his desperate attempts to find 'love' elsewhere. Fair warning ladies, if Batman comes knockin' don't invite him in.

Hi, Civetta. I guess business is slow in Vegas. Apparently you are not busy tonight . . .

So, have I heard correctly that this... is a flame thread?

What I meant to say was, SHUT YOUR FACE.

Oh. Like we don't know the Feminine Control Techniques?

Like we men are just ignorant clueless schmucks who cannot figure out the immutable fact that if you women put out once a day, we will be "pliable happy puppies"?

Actually, we know. And we're OK with that. No kidding. We are actually the shallow pigs you think we are, and we're OK with that.

And we are constantly amused and entertained by the feminine delusion that you can change us.

And we are constantly amused and entertained by the feminine delusion that you can change us.

He talks pretty brave when Mrs. Michael is out of town, doesn't he?

I am too busy and not interested in what you're hoping for, Michael. However, perhaps if you gave Mrs. Michael several bran muffins you could achieve your goals and save yourself $2,500.

Holy crap! Michael--are you a scat freak?

No, I am not a scat freak. In fact, I had to google "scat freak" in order to figure out WTF you were talking about. That's disgusting.

I am an Upper-Middle-Class-Businessman. As such, I can offer some advice.

At $2,500, Civetta (a/k/a Not A Vegas Whore) is severely overpriced. That's why she has so much time to cruise the internet.

On the basis of extensive market research, I'm confident that Civetta should be in the $140 - $160 price range, consistent with her aging competitors.

He talks pretty brave when Mrs. Michael is out of town, doesn't he?

*Gulp*

Sandy, this whole conversartion started with the ethics of personal privacy on the internet, right?

Ha ha! You're a big--

(Oops, gotta run, here comes the missus. I'll make fun of you later, Michael.)

Michael:

I have run Vegas escorts in the past and what you want is referred to as "Earth, Wind and Lava". Perhaps you want more wind, but that depends on the escort's diet.

I'd say maybe you leave Civetta alone because you are a problem client.

I'd say maybe you leave Civetta alone because you are a problem client.

Actually, I have not really succeeded at being a "client" yet. We're talking about the cost of airfare to Vegas, and so forth.

But your advice is well taken. Thanks.

I love how this post was all about "standards" and "doing the right thing" and then the thread degenerated into all things wrong.....;-)

If I could think of something bad enough to shock you all, I would. But you all are light years ahead of me there.

On a serious note ( and I'm NOT kidding here) I think the problem with men and women is that in past generations we all looked pretty good young and by the time we were tired of our mate, we looked like hell anyway. So you made the best of it. But now, with modern whatever, we still look pretty good when we get tired of our mate, hence...fooling around. Which clearly ends up ticking EVERYONE off.

This is early morning rambling. Forgive me.

Scat, crossdressers, gay batman and to think I have not even had my eggs yet.

Laura, we've stopped using the newsletter, it's too slow. Just transmit the names and faces on the satellite uplink.

And all you men who live with women and think you're independent macho he-men? We've tagged you like the animals on Wild Kingdom. And you actually believed those unmatched socks were due to laundry incompetence! HA!

All your gonads are belong to us!

damn. more true than we'd care to admit.

Why do television memories live longer than my actual memories?

Sue, that sock reference is from Married With Children.

We've tagged you like the animals on Wild Kingdom.

I thought that mole on my ass looked strange.

Michael,

So the tag sticking out of it doesn't bother you?

I KNOW I haven't been tagged... my wife doesn't let me leave the house except with her (Apparently, I'm an "indoor pet")

So the tag sticking out of it doesn't bother you?

Yes, it does. The bar code makes it unsightly.

Michael,

Oh, that's not your barcode. That's your sin-o-meter.

How do you think we women know a lil something about everything you do?

Surely you have noticed the numbers changing even as you type here?

;-)

Good heavens, Sparkle! What were you doing up at 3:30 A.M.?

Let me guess, the buzzing noise awakens Mr. Sparkle until he's in REM sleep, right?

spongeworthy,

Heh. What can I say? I couldn't sleep. And he may be a Mr. but he sure as hell doesn't sparkle.

;-)

Sue, that sock reference is from Married With Children.

I'm lame, sue me. All of us aren't comedic geniuses who post pictures of Caucasian sumo wrestlers and big-boobed nerd women on popular blogs.

I wasn't picking on you.

I just realized I remembered that, and it surprised me.
OK? So don't be that way.
I'm very sensitive.

Who's this nerd woman you speak of?

Boy, that Sammy Hagar's quite an entrepreneur, you know? First he's selling his own brand of tequila, then he's got a night club... Well, evidently, he's now selling a cookbook on Amazon.com.

Yup, that's right, his own cookbook. It's called "There's Only One Way to Wok".

...

Probably an Oriental kind of thing.

...

O - kaaaaay...

Who's this nerd woman you speak of?

I was talking about the gamer girl, not bbeck.

And I'm sorry Laura, I didn't mean to get catty. I guess l'm still on edge from the mother-in-law this past Turkey Day. Grrrrrrr.

See? I even forgot to sign my freakin' name.