Saturday, July 10, 2004

Yahooey Twooey

My Yahoo email continues to be unpredictable. Sometimes it loads and runs properly, sometimes it doesn't. I had thought it would resolve itself after a few days, but apparently it won't. A message "sent" to Yahoo via their hard-to-find "contact us" claptrap probably won't be answered. If so, it would certainly be the first time I ever got an answer from Yahoo. If they do reply, they'll probably blame my IP; I've noticed that's what they do in their Online Help in a wild-assed effort to evade all responsiblity for all things.

I'm pretty sure this stuff is small potatoes to you, but it means a lot to me. I don't enjoy having to use Gmail's or EV1 email's plain-text small fonts. Nobody knows where they'll hear from me next, and all of them just hit reply to whatever they're sent. I could be sending from, they wouldn't notice, I'm fairly certain. (Hmmm, let 'em try to harvest that one!)

Most people don't want to be pestered with the details of email. I guess I don't entirely want to deal with petty details, either, except that I do want font options. But I don't like trying to remember to check all the email accounts on a timely basis. I'm not good at always remembering. I'm like anyone else, I want a trouble-free life at no cost and where I don't have to explain myself to anyone. What's wrong with that? Let's see, I had that arrangement right up until…uh, until… Well, I'll look it up and get back to you on that.

Meanwhile, I'm all out of sorts and holding myself together with band-aids and strings and little snippets of song that none can sing. I'm liable to post here on a fairly random basis. I've never far away, and I do have problems other than worrying about a handful of readers. An average of 8 of you per day is not an impressive enough figure to make me either celebrate or pedal faster. I used to celebrate and pedal faster, but… Well what have you done lately anyway to lift my spirits, heal my heart, or fill my coffers?

Ah, well, it's the Internet life, filled with energetic loons and looky-lou bumps on a log. You know who you are!

Spankings, anyone?

Isn't it great when you find out your former mousy 12th-grade home room teacher (like this one at Surprise Family Photo) got in shape only AFTER you'd passed through her class? You know, the one you used to tease so much? She can probably now beat guys like you and me senseless! I wasn't as mean to her as you were, and I think I might enjoy it if she didn't use me to beat you with!

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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)