If you're reading this right now, you have already been exposed to this blog's new look and layout. Except, of course, it you happen to be blind. Are you blind? Trick question -- if you were blind, you couldn't read this in the first place and you would have just blown your cover by answering yes (I saw someone in New York once who pretended to be blind and beg for money -- when he failed to get anything from a group of tourists, he threw his cane on the sidewalk and dashed inside a strip club called The Dripping Lollipop). Note: If you are blind and happen to have some sort of braille computer screen or iPad (eyePad -- ha! made myself laugh), I apologize. I love all my viewers. All of them.
Wait. Are blind people still considered "viewers"?
Never mind.
Wordplay aside, I hope this new template turns your crank. I spent some time tweaking it yesterday and have to admit that I'm impressed with the new options available for bloggers these days. Five years ago, you only had like three looks to choose from -- now I can change just about anything. Among these changes you'll notice wider columns for easier reading, a new description on the right hand side, and fewer annoying ads. I HATE those ads. Bloggers get a few measly cents every time someone clicks one, which is why so many sites are overcrowded with pestilant Google links. I think these ads look desperate, cheap, and unprofessional. Content should be what counts, so I axed most of the side banners. That being said, I left a few on. I mean, let's be realistic. This isn't called Bohemian Businesskid for nothing.
So. Want to know something funny?
When I was changing up the design, I noticed a bunch of new options in the statistics section of Blogger's controls. I opened them up, curious to see who my reader base was, and discovered some interesting findings.
Obviously, most of my viewers are North American (about 55% Canadian, 35% American). But I also have 20 viewers in Hong Kong, 12 in Lithuania, 7 in the Netherlands, 4 in Croatia, and 1 in Argentina.
I'm surprised.
And flattered.
And curious about the one Argentinian. I mean thanks, but why don't you tell your other Argentinian friends about it? Come on, Arge. Help me out.
What's extra funny (and a little alarming) is that I can also see how people arrive here. For example, some Google search words that have led online travellers to this blog have been "Kyle Riabko", "Sean Hayes", and "Next to Normal". These make sense -- I've talked about them in my posts before. Meanwhile, other searches that have led people to this weird corner of the web include: "lasik eye surgery", "shroomy shrooms", and "bohemian milf".
I officially apologize to anyone who has ever come looking for important medical advice, psychedelic fungi, or scantily clad mothers and -- much to their dismay and sexual displeasure -- found me.
By the way, I love that some guy was searching "bohemian milf". That must be a pretty niche segment, no? This isn't professional financial advice or anything, but if you've got extra money lying around, my statistics strongly hint that the milf market is booming. On second thought, it might just be one person. And if it's the same person from Argentina, you, sir, are either the coolest or grossest guy in your country. High five.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Banana Boats
I have to admit, I'm a little sad right now. And no, it's not because I heard a depressing song or watched a tear-jerking movie. It's not because I'm out of groceries, either. It's not even because my nose is still a snot factory, or I can't find my Disney sheet music, or it's colder outside than a witch's teet.
Nope. I'm sad because I just finished my last final.
Hold on, you're thinking. What did he just type?
Yes. You read right. I'm sad finals are over.
Hear me out. We all know Christmas is a time for giving and resting and being with loved ones by warm firesides yadda yadda yadda. It's about unwinding. It's about presents. Depending on the amount of culinary talent that your family's women possess, it's about eating good food (that's not sexist, it's just true). Sure it might also be about spending lots of money you don't have, pretending you enjoy a gift when you really don't, and/or trying to ignore Uncle Paul for a few hours, but, on the whole, Christmas is pretty much the best thing to happen all year.
So why am I sad that finals are over?
Because finals represent a different holiday season. Let's be honest: a student's schedule from December 1st - 22nd is more lax than Montezuma's revenge. At most, we write five three-hour tests. The rest (minus the hours you say you spent studying) is academic freedom. I'm not about to declare that university life is easy, but, well, let's face it: it is pretty damn easy. Even law students, stressed out over 100% finals, should consider the day when they'll have a person's freedom in their hands instead of a sheet that says "Complete the following questions".
So, like I was saying, I'm officially done finals. No more blaming school for bad eating. No more staying up til 4am watching the latest Seth MacFarlane smut with the volume maxed out. And, worst of all, no more going anywhere after sunset (I'll be in Swift Current where dinner's done by 6 and the hicks are out cold by 9). Sigh. This year was a particularly good finals break, and I'm sad to see it go. I mean, between me and my old roommate across the street, we had 3 finals (I had 3, he had 0). You know what that meant? We frequently -- and I'm not exaggerating -- stayed up until 3:00am playing Donkey Kong Country for Super Nintendo while eating banana boats roasted in the oven. Banana Boats and Donkey Kong. If that isn't what God The Father Almighty's bible describes as "holy rapture", I can't imagine what is.
Anyway. I should shove off. I've got my last Xmas party tonight before going home tomorrow (FYI: I'm ready to rant about Xmas parties, too, but I'll save it for later this week). If you're not as popular as I am and don't have anything to do tonight, I suggest finding an SNES and playing Donkey Kong Country followed by DK Country 2: Diddy's Kong Quest. They're pretty much the best games ever.
Nope. I'm sad because I just finished my last final.
Hold on, you're thinking. What did he just type?
Yes. You read right. I'm sad finals are over.
Hear me out. We all know Christmas is a time for giving and resting and being with loved ones by warm firesides yadda yadda yadda. It's about unwinding. It's about presents. Depending on the amount of culinary talent that your family's women possess, it's about eating good food (that's not sexist, it's just true). Sure it might also be about spending lots of money you don't have, pretending you enjoy a gift when you really don't, and/or trying to ignore Uncle Paul for a few hours, but, on the whole, Christmas is pretty much the best thing to happen all year.
So why am I sad that finals are over?
Because finals represent a different holiday season. Let's be honest: a student's schedule from December 1st - 22nd is more lax than Montezuma's revenge. At most, we write five three-hour tests. The rest (minus the hours you say you spent studying) is academic freedom. I'm not about to declare that university life is easy, but, well, let's face it: it is pretty damn easy. Even law students, stressed out over 100% finals, should consider the day when they'll have a person's freedom in their hands instead of a sheet that says "Complete the following questions".
So, like I was saying, I'm officially done finals. No more blaming school for bad eating. No more staying up til 4am watching the latest Seth MacFarlane smut with the volume maxed out. And, worst of all, no more going anywhere after sunset (I'll be in Swift Current where dinner's done by 6 and the hicks are out cold by 9). Sigh. This year was a particularly good finals break, and I'm sad to see it go. I mean, between me and my old roommate across the street, we had 3 finals (I had 3, he had 0). You know what that meant? We frequently -- and I'm not exaggerating -- stayed up until 3:00am playing Donkey Kong Country for Super Nintendo while eating banana boats roasted in the oven. Banana Boats and Donkey Kong. If that isn't what God The Father Almighty's bible describes as "holy rapture", I can't imagine what is.
Anyway. I should shove off. I've got my last Xmas party tonight before going home tomorrow (FYI: I'm ready to rant about Xmas parties, too, but I'll save it for later this week). If you're not as popular as I am and don't have anything to do tonight, I suggest finding an SNES and playing Donkey Kong Country followed by DK Country 2: Diddy's Kong Quest. They're pretty much the best games ever.
Merry Christmas, you filthy animal.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Naughty or Nice
Like any good North American urbanite trying to support a shitty economy, I've done my fair share of shopping lately. The candle of consumerism shines bright in my heart and burns holes in my wallet. Like Oprah, I've got my own list of favorite things for the holiday season, and, if St. Nick is reading this right now, I'd appreciate some help from the fat bastard (Santa, not Oprah).
First of all, I'd like to wish for Hewlett-Packard to get a good customer service department. Way back at the start of the school year, my Dell laptop died a sudden, unexpected death. The screen flashed a couple times, the speakers bleeped, and -- as I held it in my arms -- I heard the fan's soft breathing choke, sputter, then stop. Didn't even get a chance to say 'I love you, babe'. After a period of proper mourning, I bought an HP desktop from Futureshop and, within two weeks, it went into epileptic seizures of its own. 'Twas time to make the dreaded phone call to the outsourcing capital of the universe: India (I swear, Mumbai gets calls from the Qanzaar galaxy when aliens need space-parts repaired). And I kid you not, I spent 14 HOURS on the phone with HP service reps. I feel I was pretty patient at the start, but as the clock ticked on and the anger boiled, veins in my head began to pop. Sometime around the tenth hour, I flipped my shit. Apologies to any reps who went home crying that night. I wasn't myself. Yet still, it took over a month to solve my problem, which is unacceptable. I understand that most customer service departments are like warts -- crusty white warts that no amount of liquid nitrogen or cauterization can scorch off -- but HP's is like a hideous hunk of malignant face melanoma.
Second on my Christmas list is a job. With graduation just around the corner, a career would be a good thing to find in my stocking Xmas morning.
Third on my list is another pop hit from Lady Gaga and Beyonce. "Telephone" was ok, but I have a strong feeling they could do better. And then to battle Gaga and Beyonce on the charts, Ke$ha and Pink could team up too. And then all four of them should star in a pornographic feature film titled "Three Stinks, One Pink".
Fourthly, I wish that the reboot of the Spiderman movie series would be cancelled. Sam Raimi et al. did a perfectly fine version the first time around, and I do NOT feel like watching an uninspired train wreck starring the Lizard and some other obscure villain (Van Adder... wtf?).
Fifth on my list, I'd like a football with the face of Shia LaBeouf stitched on the side. Honestly, I would punt that pigskin every day.
Sixthly, I'm craving a scary book. Like a really scary book -- one that I wouldn't be able to read before bed because it would give me night terrors. Currently, I'm a fifth done "Pet Semetary" by Stephen King. If you know something scarier, please, leave a comment.
Speaking of pets, next I would like a maine coon cat. I was recently at someone's house who had one, and they are the BIGGEST, most kick ass cats ever. Don't believe me? Take a look:
So there you have it, my Xmas wishlist. If Christmas miracles exist, hopefully something good will come in my stocking December 25th. I mean, is adequate customer service or a maine coon cat too much to ask? I'm on the "nice" list, right?
Ok, I admit. Maybe I've been a bit naughtier in 2010 than other years. But no one's perfect, right? Actually, let's face it. Who cares if you get a lump of coal on Christmas morning? I say a crummy gift one day out of the year is worth being a bit naughty for the other 364. Modern Santa makes a list, checks it twice, high fives who's naughty, and rolls his eyes at who's nice. So tip back the eggnog, hang up your mistletoe, and slap some tannenbums. Happy holidays, everyone.
First of all, I'd like to wish for Hewlett-Packard to get a good customer service department. Way back at the start of the school year, my Dell laptop died a sudden, unexpected death. The screen flashed a couple times, the speakers bleeped, and -- as I held it in my arms -- I heard the fan's soft breathing choke, sputter, then stop. Didn't even get a chance to say 'I love you, babe'. After a period of proper mourning, I bought an HP desktop from Futureshop and, within two weeks, it went into epileptic seizures of its own. 'Twas time to make the dreaded phone call to the outsourcing capital of the universe: India (I swear, Mumbai gets calls from the Qanzaar galaxy when aliens need space-parts repaired). And I kid you not, I spent 14 HOURS on the phone with HP service reps. I feel I was pretty patient at the start, but as the clock ticked on and the anger boiled, veins in my head began to pop. Sometime around the tenth hour, I flipped my shit. Apologies to any reps who went home crying that night. I wasn't myself. Yet still, it took over a month to solve my problem, which is unacceptable. I understand that most customer service departments are like warts -- crusty white warts that no amount of liquid nitrogen or cauterization can scorch off -- but HP's is like a hideous hunk of malignant face melanoma.
Second on my Christmas list is a job. With graduation just around the corner, a career would be a good thing to find in my stocking Xmas morning.
Third on my list is another pop hit from Lady Gaga and Beyonce. "Telephone" was ok, but I have a strong feeling they could do better. And then to battle Gaga and Beyonce on the charts, Ke$ha and Pink could team up too. And then all four of them should star in a pornographic feature film titled "Three Stinks, One Pink".
Fourthly, I wish that the reboot of the Spiderman movie series would be cancelled. Sam Raimi et al. did a perfectly fine version the first time around, and I do NOT feel like watching an uninspired train wreck starring the Lizard and some other obscure villain (Van Adder... wtf?).
Fifth on my list, I'd like a football with the face of Shia LaBeouf stitched on the side. Honestly, I would punt that pigskin every day.
Sixthly, I'm craving a scary book. Like a really scary book -- one that I wouldn't be able to read before bed because it would give me night terrors. Currently, I'm a fifth done "Pet Semetary" by Stephen King. If you know something scarier, please, leave a comment.
Speaking of pets, next I would like a maine coon cat. I was recently at someone's house who had one, and they are the BIGGEST, most kick ass cats ever. Don't believe me? Take a look:
So there you have it, my Xmas wishlist. If Christmas miracles exist, hopefully something good will come in my stocking December 25th. I mean, is adequate customer service or a maine coon cat too much to ask? I'm on the "nice" list, right?
Ok, I admit. Maybe I've been a bit naughtier in 2010 than other years. But no one's perfect, right? Actually, let's face it. Who cares if you get a lump of coal on Christmas morning? I say a crummy gift one day out of the year is worth being a bit naughty for the other 364. Modern Santa makes a list, checks it twice, high fives who's naughty, and rolls his eyes at who's nice. So tip back the eggnog, hang up your mistletoe, and slap some tannenbums. Happy holidays, everyone.
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