Filed under: LBP's Rx
Happy New Year!! I’ve decided to make 2008 the year of me. Why is this different then any other year? It’s not, I’m just mentioning this because this is post today is all about me. (Shocking, I know. And no mention of sex toys anywhere!) I’ve decided that 2008 is also the year to end my singledom. Why is this different then any other year? It’s not. Will the year end differently than the others before now? Stranger things have happened. An example? Well I can’t recall off the top of my head but there’s gotta be.
Until 2008 though, I apparently didn’t have the proper utilities to alter my state of singlehood. No one I know knows single men. My matchmaker (that I paid for their useless services) has given me great, sexy catches like the guy who took me to Canadian Tire so he could buy two ratchet sets, or crazy guy, or not over his divorce yet guy. Little did I know that I’ve been surviving without the aid of Facebook. Yes. Facebook. See there are all these helpful applications to aid me in ending my singledom title. Applications like “Are You Interested?” and “Meet New People” and “Flirtable” and “Zoosk” and “You and Me?” and so on and so forth. I thought the bars were a meat market. I stand corrected. It’s now Facebook. Okay yes, I signed up with “Are You Interested?” though dropped it this past week as the anonymous function pisses me off. The only way you can discover who said yes to you anonymously is to say yes to everyone they “match” you up with. Ha. As if. Three anon knocks on my door and I turfed that baby. I’m also with “Meet New People” which allows you to utilize the cheesiest pick up lines when you spot a picture you like. Lines like: “Hi, I’m interested” or “Can I ‘join’ your network?” or “You’re burning up my monitor, are you always this hot?” and so on and so forth. Oh yes…classy lines.
And shockingly it’s working. A friend of mine has gotten all girly and giggly over a guy she met in “Meet New People” (okay from now on this MNP because I’m freakin’ lazy). She had a date with him after two weeks of chatting, texting and phone calls that went for hours. It’s been kind of fun to watch her revert to a giggly teenager. Especially when I asked “How was the date?” and she giggled for five minutes. It went well. Okay, so she’s my only example of these applications working and it’s only been a couple of weeks but whatever. If something works for someone, I’m so going to give it a go (which is how I wound up with my worthless matchmaker.)
I’ve been double tapped by a guy I flirted with using “MNP”. Yes, this was my big flirt move: “Hi, I’m interested.” Rrrawr. Sexy, Jenn. How could he resist? He didn’t. So then I promptly contacted my friend and said “What the fuck hell do I do now?” It’s already been established I don’t get a lot. Don’t rub it in. We decided to opt on another flirt back because, well, we’re super cool. Damned if he didn’t flirt back – again. Twice! Sweet. Clearly someone wants to end his singledom reign too! Now has come the time for Jenn to suck it up and send him a message. Does Jenn know what to say? Oh hell no. That would be way too freakin’ easy. But a double tap… that’s a good sign right? He’s cute, he’s older than me (by four days) though he can’t spell (winces) but it’s a start. And I’m all for starts.
Look, it’s not like anything else has been working for me. Crackbook certainly can’t hurt at this point. Oh yeah. I’m cool.
little blue pill who is Facebook tarting it up. Look, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.
Update: So I sent my message and now the game is on. My seductive message you ask?
She slips out of the mists of “Meet New People” all with the intention of saying, “Hi *****,” because that’s how clever and witty and unique she is.
So, yes, uhm… “Hi!”
Clever she is, she has no closing statement,
Jennifer
Sexy, eh? Rrrawr. But can he resist? Tune in later to find out! And yes, that took me all day to write. Why yes, I am a wrier, why do you ask? God I hope he hasn’t stumbled upon this sit. Wouldn’t that just be my luck.
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While looking for some photographs for a post, I paused then giggled…a lot. I don’t claim to have the tidiest of minds. Uhm, hello, I do write the naughtier romances when I’m not reading them. So it didn’t take long for my mind to smutty up something though this is the first time with an entire city.
I have a question and I’m hoping someone can help me out. Is there a reason why architecture in Chicago resembles sex toys? I find this most, uhm, “interesting”.
Welcome to my thought process.
Exhibit A: The Chicago Spire. A funky building being built now.
I will confess I didn’t read much as my mind automatically compared the design to…
Exhibit B: “the Bean” is terribly cool looking
until you notice…
And don’t even get me started on this one:
Ladies & Gentlemen, I rest my case.
Toddling town indeed. Kinda makes you wonder what the architects were up to, no? I think I need to go to Chicago. Oh wait, thanks to Doug and the Old Mule (*hint hint* what’s up boys?) I just may get to see the amazing giant vibrators architecture come to life (heh) this Spring.
~little blue pill dusting off her passport.
The Architects of Hilarity hang out at Humor-blogs.com.
I’m not a tidy person. If I know I’m having company come over it takes me awhile to prepare because everything has to be cleaned from top to bottom. I’m not a pig, I’m just not tidy. The t.v. show “How Clean is Your House?” makes me feel confident that I am not that bad of a housekeeper. It’s the little things that are reassuring. It does annoy me however when I go to friends’ houses and they say “Sorry for the mess.” and I look around and see nothing wrong. “What mess?” “I didn’t vacuum.” Uhm. Okay. My vacuum is currently a coat rack.
It doesn’t, however, take much to gross me out. Friday as I ventured into the coldest effing washroom I’ve been in since Banff’s Hard Rock Cafe, I gazed around and felt my (totally inadequate–hello I said no banana peppers not more) bbq chicken quesadilla rising back up. The tiles and grout were covered in grunge not mud from winter boots but grunge because I looked and said grunge was crawling along the plumbing to the toilet. I emerged, looked at my mom and said, “I’m never eating here again.”
That being said, my lack of cleanliness/order did get me into trouble awhile back. I have piss poor wiring in my condo. I don’t know if they were drunk or what, but the wire isn’t fully connected to the screws inside my wall. Hello fire hazard. I know this. I am on a mission to clean out my second bedroom (started a couple of months ago) to call in my electrician to have him check every outlet in my condo as my bedroom has had 3 blackouts because of this wiring snafu. So I did a quick clean (ie. everything gets thrown into a laundry basket and tossed in the spare room hence the monumental task of cleaning out said second room) and the bedroom was hastily cleaned. In walked the electrician and he wandered into my room to check out the outlets. I stood there and I looked over at my night stand. Heat immediately crawled up my cheeks as I reached over and slid the newly spotted item under my pillow.
I think I need to go to Ikea.
~ pig pen little blue pill sharing way tmi dontcha think?
Pick up more funny vibes (and/or batteries) at Humor-blogs.com.
Filed under: LBP's Rx
THERE are many many reasons to love and adore our daringly delicious and delightful friend (not to mention semi-frequent — tho’ we wish it was more — Snark contributor), THE LITTLE BLUE PILL. The following charming anecdotal post — which, as it turns out, is the perfect Yin to yesterday’s brown-colored Yang — is just one of ’em. ~ Snuppy
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A month ago when babysitting my nephew, I wasn’t really paying attention. We were playing in the basement when a nice breeze told me that…yep time to change the boy’s “big boy underwear” (re: pull ups). Upstairs we go and I’m contemplating the sides. I tug. Nothing. So I carefully wiggle the pants down when…plop.
The poop rolled right out of the diaper onto the changing pad. “Don’t move!” I cried thinking this was beyond disgusting and could someone please please please potty train him? Stubborn little guy. Hah!
“Oh no,” cried Jake. “We dropped the poop.”
Chris & Jenn had come home early because nephew #2-to-be was misbehaving and Chris said: “Why didn’t you just pull the sides apart?”
I scowled at him. I had tried just not hard enough. To be honest it takes some seriously ripping on the sides. I guess to keep from three year olds from ripping them off. Duh. (Current update: I have mastered the ripping of the sides thanks to our Cuba holiday. I had to change those stupid diapers twice. In five minutes. Hello, my brother? Two words: potty training.)
“We dropped the poop, Daddy,” said my nephew. As if that wasn’t blatantly obvious to us all.
So that’s my new saying when I don’t think things through and they go in the, uh, pooper. “Oh no,” I’ll mutter as I sag back in defeat, “I dropped the poop.”
It’s so much more entertaining than “Oh shit.”
~ little blue pill who apologizes for no sexiness on Friday. Instead you get poop. I’m class all the way
They’re pooping toasters on Humor-blogs.com.
Pheromones: they make the other person look good because they smell good. Or so says science. Maybe. Whatever. I didn’t exactly look it up. That’s, like, research. Pah. I don’t need no stinkin’ (hahahaha. Get it? Did you get it? I crack me up) research. Clearly this word was derived from the Ancient Egyptians. Go on…say it.. Pheromones. Pharaoh Moans. It’s all about the head honcho getting laid all the time and the peons were jealous (and who wouldn’t be with the head honcho getting lots of, uhm, head so to speak) so they killed off the Pharaohs then wore their clothing. Then the “essence” of the Pharaoh rubbed off on the peons and soon everyone was getting horizontal. “Hey baby you smell good.” “Sugar, it’s the Pharaohs.” Sweeeet. I wouldn’t’ mind going to see Egypt. If for no other reason then to ask around about why their pyramids didn’t make the 8 Wonders of the Worlds list. Maybe it was all that sand getting into cracks. Then again the beach has sand and also didn’t make the Wonders list. The beach has surfers. And surfers are just sublimely yummy as they’re all tanned and buff and half naked and wet. Not to mention that they smell like the ocean and I do so love the smell of the ocean even though I live far far far far far far far far away from any large body of water.
See how I got back to smelling? Will you pay attention? Oh you want proof about the efficiency of pheromones. Gotcha.
So apparently pheromones attract the opposite sex or fish. How? I don’t know. That’s science. I don’t do science. Ask somebody sciency. Do I write science fiction? No. I write about sex. Well…I did. Lately I’m not. But this isn’t about my lack of sex…err…writing. This is about sex and sexy smells and so on so forth. I saw on t.v. (some sex show on The Learning Channel…huzzah!) that women are more attracted to sweaty men than unsweaty men. Err…Uh-huh. That’s because they’re oooooooooozing pheromones. I think they’re just ooooooozing sweat and need a shower. I don’t retain much information. I could look it up but…hello? Research. I mean I’ve never seen a sweaty guy, tackled him then rubbed my face in his stinky arm pit then yell out “Do me baby!” Wait…would that work? I could be wrong. This could require research. Blast.
So these pheromones are the babe magnets and thanks to science I you can buy pheromones. Sex in a bottle. Sweet. I was dragged (kicking and screaming) to a passion party where one of the products was (sec…let me pull my container out of my purse. What? You don’t carry around your pheromones? Why the hell not?!?) “Pure Instinct®”. “Pure® Instinct” according to the website*: Inspires desire and attracts the opposite sex! This unisex scent is a powerful attractant, communicating your sexual readiness and heightening your partner’s desires. Apparently it adapts to your body chemistry so everyone has a unique scent: I learned I smelled like strawberries and mangoes. There’s nothing I love more than strawberries and mangoes and less it’s strawberries AND mangoes plus it attracts the opposite sex? How could I, a single gal, pass up? I didn’t. I plunked down my $15 something and waited and waited and waited for my sex in a bottle. It arrived. Then I waited some more for my friend to remember to deliver it to me. Just in time for us gals to go out drinking Saturday night.
* link provided in case, y’know, you want some pheromones or to host a passion party. (As an aside: at my friend’s passion party (that I missed because I was a good girl babysitting her nephew) when they put on the “Pure® Instinct”, her dog was making eyes at one of the girls, his head in her lap…proof is in the pudding. Works on dogs. Watch out Doug!)
So us gaggle of females slathered up and I sat back (with the only other single gal) to wait for the guys to drop at my feet. They didn’t. This was vexing. Maybe, we decided, we needed to waft our pheromones around the bar. So…we raised our wrists and made circles in the air in an attempt to beckon all this sex to us. None came. The only ones who snagged onto my pheromones were a trio of drunk teenagers at the c-train station (it was an early night (home by 11 pm…what the fuck? I was pheromoning man!) and I decided to use my transit pass instead of paying for a cab. Good decision…I could waft my pheromones around the crowded c-train thanks to the Stampede!) who were spraying each other with Off. Perhaps they should’ve used pheromones? One guy said “You sprayed me.” The other kid said: “No I didn’t.” “I smell strawberries.” (Wait…did I just refer to a teenager as a kid? Shit.)
Perhaps my pheromony goodness didn’t work because every single gal I was out with Saturday night slathered themselves in the stuff. (It’s not sad that when I wear this stuff I turn myself on is it? Nah. Just proves it’s efficient.) How could any guy find my pheromony goodness when there was so much bloody competition? Damn those married chicks screwed me over! I shall have to try this again. And if nothing else I’ll smell like strawberries AND mangoes. Not like fish…or Zoidberg. Unless that will work for a guy then Zoidberg me up!
little blue pill out (doesn’t that sound like a new prescription is needed? oh yeah…fo’ sho’)
Everything smells funny on Humor-blogs.com.
From the scary place that is LBP’s mind. You’ve been warned.
It truly amazes me at what young minds pick up. My friend’s three year old snarked back at her when she asked him how he knew something (can’t remember what) “Duh, Mom, I watch tv y’know.” Truthfully had he been mine, “Not anymore” might have come from my mouth.
On Sunday I hit the mall with my brother. I think this is the first time since we had to go to the mall with our mom as kids that I’ve been shopping with Bro. He woke me up at 9:30 that morning and said “Good morning, lovely sister.” Lovely sister grunted in response. “Do you know what your nephew said this morning?” “Let Auntie sleep in?” “Nope. Hey, let’s take Auntie to the mall. Hey buddy, wanna say hi to Auntie.” Manipulation!!! Raspy breathing comes into the phone and I realized that I was going to be going to the mall. “Hi Auntie.” “Hi baby.” More breathing then the phone is dropped. Damn. “Yeah yeah, I’ll be ready.” “Great! We’ll do Petland first.”
Swell. I hang up, crawl across the bed while muttering about brothers who use unfair tactics to get me out of bed. It is a well known fact that I will say no to my little brother. My nephew? Mm not so much. Yeah yeah, Auntie Sucker. Shut up.
Off we go to Petland and nephew makes a beeline for the display where a rabbit is hopping around. “Bunny.” He looks at me. “Up we go.” Right then and there I started to laugh. All throughout the store: “Up we go.” Then came the battle to get the container of crickets away from him before he opened it. Aaaaahck!! The, ugh, snake being carried around. Can we go back to the fluffy bunnies and kitten who had eyed us with sleepy blue eyes? Why yes…yes we can when the little guy makes a break for it. And forget my brother trying to pick him up. Everytime he did, my guy would go limp and call for me. Ha! Favorite. Yessssss!
Fast forward: The Bay. Bro is buying my sister-in-law a birthday present and off my guy and I go. Right next to the jewellry is the lingerie. Well. We had to walk past the nylon panties 50 times so he could run his hand over them. Hi Mr. Eye-in-the-Sky! Meet my pervy little 2 year old nephew! (My brother beamed with pride when I relayed this.) Then we hit the nightgowns as he declared his colors then upon finding some velour nightgown/housecoat/something he said “It’s cute.” I looked at him. “What?” He beamed and then every time he took a bra (even long johns in plastic bags were subjected to this) off the rack: “It’s cute. Cuuuute. It’s cute!” Then came the moment of the day: “It’s cute! Right size?” (And actually every bra plucked free was cute. Wrong size though.)
Someone is spending waaaaay too much time with his mom in the lingerie department.
In case you’re wondering about the video. It’s a clip from How I Met Your Mother…see the whole thing in all its face slapping glory here. Gonna rock your body ’til Canada Day!!
Ha! I bet by the title you thought I was going to talk about penises. Yeesh, it’s about my nephew you pervs.
Happy New Year, Snarksters! So…it’s that time of year again. Where I make resolutions and break them within a couple of weeks days hours. And as always the main resolution is to shrink. (That’s shrink…not drink…I need no resolution for that thank you very much (was hung over when I typed this by the way…god, how can I be single?)
I’m watching Honey, I Shrunk the Kids (I so gotta change the channel and again…I’m single how??) and I wonder why isn’t there some fancy laser gizmo that will (affordable AND painless please) remove all these extra inches. But considering my life isn’t a Disney movie, I gotta do this shit the hard way, which means, sigh, exercise. Ugh. But if it’s the last thing I do in ’07 it’s to shed this final fucking twenty pounds. Oh and to get the blog going again in some faint shadow of its former glory. So yes, Snuppy, my blog is alive again. It’s aaaaalive! I’m being shanghaied by the bosses (the real bosses…not Snuppy). Sigh. Oh woe is me…blogging! God, I’m out of shape in that too.
Anyway…may your resolutions be, well, resolute. And may you not falter within the first coupla hours days weeks. And may these “curves”* of mine shrink as easily as theirs.
~ Little Blue Pill
*like hell I’m going to use the word fat in regards to me. I’m curvy damn it. CURVY!! Plus some.
LOOK who dropped back in to help sort through more Bloggy Beta-Not-Beta-Who-Knows-Beta-Late-Than-Never-Beta-Master-Beta-Don’t-Ask-Don’t-Tell-Beta stuff… the very delicious, very delightful, and oh-so-snarky Little Blue Pill. That Jenna — under the weather with the crappy flu, still on a “Blogging Break”, and yet, the girl with the gorgeous glitter lips has selflessly risked health and hard-drive for the greater good of this Snarky Blogging community. No wonder we love her so much (‘cuz we do… we really do!). And stop yer bitchin’, we don’t intend to “set-up” any more of LBP’s offerings, we just wanted to thank her “publicly” for the service she’s providing today. Plus it gives us the perfect excuse to stick her festive-yet-sexy avatar on the front page of this blog again. Win/win.
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Just a wee update on the Peer Pressure post.
So, you Blogger users may have noticed you’ve been inundated with invites to the new beta blogger.
At four in the morning Tuesday (wait…is that Wednesday? What-ever…it was 4 am) when I was congested with this damn cold, I did the switch over to not-beta. All of my blogs have templates, I’m the big cheese in two team blogs, a little guppy on a team blog and I own a lot of independent blogs. All changed over…no problem. Templates? A-okay. So you with worries about your templates nothing will change although I have noticed with a few free-design templates there has been some shifting with the name higher up.
All you do is click your change over (or whatever it said…it was 4 am) walk away from the computer or go to a different site (say here for instance) and let blogger do the work. Easy peasy. You will be asked to create a google account…that’s the extent of your hard work.
So for Miz B and Minka and anyone else in love with their templates: ALL templates in your profile will remain as they are in the (old) Blogger.
May the not-Beta force be with you and party on dudes.
Happy Holidays from LBP!!
THE following BSA (Blogging Service Announcement) is brought to you by one of our favorite Snarksters, a charming young woman who claims to be on a blogging “break” but who still manages to delight us by smackin’ into the park every day (or so) with those freakin’ awesome red lips of hers. Of course we’re talkin’ about the Little Blue Pill, a.k.a. Jenna. We’d say more, but we just read through her post, and the phrase “shit-load-of-information” came to mind, so we’re gonna keep this short. Short and sweet, in hopes Jenna, a.k.a. Little Blue Pill with Very Red Lips won’t be too embarrassed and/or annoyed by the fuss that she decides to stop hanging around. We’d hate for that to happen, as we plan to exploit her talent ask her to write more for us, in the very near future. (don’t tell her, tho’, ‘cuz she already thinks we’re pushy, for reasons that are none of your business)
OH, the announcement? Apparently it has something to do with the latest brouhaha over Blogger Beta something-or-other… er, um, we wish we knew more, but since we don’t use Blogger, our eyes glazed over the minute we saw the word “brouhaha”. That said, we’re sure LBP’s information will be extremely helpful to those of you who do use Blogger Beta. Even if it’s not, do us a favor: Fake it. Lord knows we’ve done that enough times for you.
* * * * * * * * *
Okay…the title of this post can relate to so many things. The Snupster pressuring me to start a blog (I didn’t! I am strong! I have willpower!) but I did offer to come play in the park more to which she said “Whoo-hoo!” so here I am…kinda not on a blogging hiatus. But this title really has nothing to do with how I came to be snarkin’ it up (really! trust me!) but because of a certain revolution coming our way on blogger.
And here we go…Little Blue Pill’s first Snark Bite! (If it sucks…do not tell me that…lie to me…please!) and here we go!
So…you have a blogger blog and now they’re threatening you with beta.blogger. Or you’re trying to comment on a beta.blog and, well, you can’t. Nothing like strong arm tactics to make you change to beta.blogger.
There are a few issues though and I (sadly) have no solutions to offer up. I know, I’m tarnishing my reputation for my brilliance. But this is what I know.
I do know that beta.blogger is a scary term for a lot of people. The beautiful Yummy Mummy filled my inbox with freak out emails about the future of beta.blogger and her template. “Relax,” I said, “you get to keep your template when you accept an invite.” “Oh?” “Yep.” Once you’ve accepted your beta.blogger threat invite, it will happily convert your blog to the new format and there will be your template. You won’t have all the cool widgets and label options but you have your template. There are two forms of blogger in beta.blogger just to confuse the crap out of you. Classic blogger (which is what your blog is when you first change over) and the new version with widgets and shit. So you get to keep your funkified template that you’ve sweated over on for years to get just right. But if you have a standard blogger template, I suggest updating it to the new version just so you can do cool shit like label your posts in categories, changes the colors (easily) to what you want, and play in the widgets that will let you add some pretty nifty stuff to your blog that’s not available in blogger or the Classic version in beta. Note: if you want the cool shit and you have a custom template: you’re going to lose the template. Sorry. So you have to decide: cool shit or your template. Now we all know that MizB is going to go with her template because that’s already cool shit!
Now comes the question of commenting. A guy I know is seriously pissed that he can’t use his wordpress link in beta.blogger comments. I told him to set up a profile then with a link to his site and he told me to fuck off shut up. (Un)fortunately he also has gmail but his gmail account isn’t set up to link to his wordpress site so it once commented as his name with a link that went nowhere. He was, how shall we say, ecstatic. I offered up another opinion and he told me to kiss his ass. Oh he so wishes. Minka our frustrated Penguin said she can’t comment on beta sites despite the fact that she’s a blogger. Yes, this is the strong arm tactics of Blogger to get you to switch only…you can’t switch without an invite. Fucking Brilliant! I’m not sure why you can’t comment on a beta.blog with your old id. I know it frustrates me when I can’t comment on on a beta.blog. I’m assuming this is some more strong arm tactics to get everyone to change over but, again, you need that damn threat invite.
There also seems to be a question of multi-blogs, ie you’re like me or our Yummy Mummy and you have more than one blog…do they all change over? Dunno. I tried to answer this question for you by switching over to beta (the sacrifices I’m willing to go for a post!).
Beta blogger buzz assures us that:
Switching with team blogs and getting out of beta
Just before the weekend we added the final piece to the transition from old Blogger to the new Blogger in beta: members of team blogs can now switch to the new Blogger. This is the last step before we take the new Blogger out of beta.Team blogs move when the blog’s original creator moves to the new Blogger. When that happens, team blog members will also have to move to the new Blogger in order to post. Team blog members don’t have to wait, though! If you move to the new Blogger, team blogs you didn’t create will still show up on your beta Dashboard. You’ll be able to post with them as before, though they won’t have the new features of the new Blogger. We wrote a help article to explain this all in a bit more depth.
At this point, the pieces are in place:
* The new Blogger is feature complete
* All new accounts are created on the new version
* Known issues on the new Blogger are few and getting fewer
* (Almost*) all users are able to move their blogs to the new BloggerThis all means that we’ll be removing the “beta” from the new Blogger very soon! At that time, we’ll begin the process of requiring that users of old Blogger move to new Blogger.
* = From time to time we may limit switching in order to keep old and new Blogger functioning smoothly. Also, users with particularly large blogs may not switch right now. This latter restriction will be gradually lifted.
— Pete [12/11/06 9:30 AM]
Fuck Damned if I know what this means. I just signed into blogger, got the invite and said “Okay. Update me bastards.” and it said “Oops, sorry, you can’t be updated because of a few blogs.” Sigh. Clearly they haven’t conquered that team blogger shit that they were spouting off or I’d be updating as I type this out. So, like I said, the big sacrifice I was making for y’all was fruitless so…until I can answer this clearly…I’m just gonna sit here, look pretty and vague and shrug.
I will suggest that you do this. Create a fictional beta.blogger ID. One you can happily forget you ever owned and is no way connected to your blog now, create a beta.blog and test it out BEFORE you switch over. Become comfortable with it before you are a beta blogger. It’s what I did so that when the switch came it was easy peasy. Also you’re less likely to fear your beta.blogger threat invite if you’ve dabbled in the beta zone. Part of the problem I think is that blogger has had so many issues with beta that it has reached Godzilla-like chaos so everyone’s afraid of it. Don’t fear the beta…just test it out first. Switching over is easy. I just wish it was easier on team/multi blogs. Sigh.
So what have we learned? No one knows what the fuck hell is going on with beta.blogger especially those at blogger. All we know is the revolution is coming and soon everything will change. Once you’re in beta.blogger it’s not scary. It’s actually…kinda cool once you get over the frustration of it all. Should we be afraid of the new revolution? Nah…it’s just a pain in the ass until they figure all their shit out. But god…the pressure to change over, to buckle to the peer pressure. Sigh.
PS: Totally unrelated to this beta.blogger crap. Queen Snuppy had mentioned how she and Empress Lampy had problems with youtubes not loading in blogger. One thing blogger will do is drop the {/embed} (exchanged brackets for this > stuff) if you switch from HTML view to Compose view. Add the code back into the HTML view (without going back to Compose to test that you have the video because…that’s what you did right? Just click on VIEW POST instead) and the video should work. Fun shit huh?
And if you read this entire post and it made sense to you…shit…I’m brilliant.
~Little Blue Pill (with Very Red Lips)
Central Snark 