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This is my blog, and it is dangerous. Do you think I want to die like this?





Tuesday, April 19, 2011

I appreciate your time ...

I typically try to post something for you to blankly stare at every week, but I've really been doing a bad job of it this month - and for that I apologize.  The recent Photobucket debacle cost me three full days of working on anything having to do with my blog because I was too busy harassing whoever runs the Photobucket Facebook page while going through all five stages of grief and posting psychotic status updates on my own Facebook wall, most likely confusing the ever-loving shit out of 95% of the people on my friends list who weren't aware that I even wrote a blog.  By the end, I'm certain they were all making mental notes never to try to find it.

So I'm here again, with an offering of something to watch while I complete my blog homework, which will be a movie review.  It's not a new film, so don't go getting all excited that I left my house or anything.

This is also not very new, so if you've already seen it, congratulations.  You're cool. 


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5 comments:

Blakenetizen said...

lol! off to find the psychotic fb status messages I go! :D

Unknown said...

Unfortunately, they were on my other account, the one I have for my family - but you could probably find the boring and harassing messages I was posting at the Photobucket Facebook page.

In all seriousness, I was just bitching over and over again that Photobucket better put my photos back up, and then blow me. I'm glad it's over, I was pretty unbearable.

Anonymous said...

T'will be stuck in my head All. Day. Long. ;)

E. Studnicka said...

Someone should ban you from youtube.

Unknown said...

Hey, that was a great song. You should count yourself lucky that I didn't make you listen to the two songs that have been stuck in my head for the past two days: Sleeping Satellite by Tasmin Archer and fricking sappy-ass Hands to Heaven by Breathe, from the 80s.

I didn't know whether to try to save the planet, crawl under the covers and cry about a boy who will never love me, or mallet my head.