Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Wednesday, February 02, 2005 Humpblog (2/2/05)
The Sisters' Tragedy is now available on Amazon, for any of you who may have been waiting to buy your copy until you could get it from the online corporate monolith. Link's here, which, since it goes through my kickback program, gives me a slightly bigger piece of the pie as an author. Thanks for waiting, both of you.
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After Orca died, I promised to donate that month's income from my Google Ads to an animal rescue organization. The next day's clickthrough rate on those ads was 7.8%, which I would say is pretty good if I knew the first thing about it. In any case, by clicking on the ads for the next month, you raised 53.16, which is going to the Minnesota Humane Society.
We also put down a fifty-dollar deposit when we borrowed the trap from them to catch Phantom. I tried to get them to keep the deposit when I returned the trap, but since I'd put it on a credit card that would screw up their books or something. I keep meaning to write them a check, but I haven't gotten around to it until now. But this week I'm going to go ahead and sent them a hundred dollars and change, from me and you. The lost and homeless animals of the Twin Cities thank you.
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Trash came home from Tampa early last weekend, but she had to get to the airport even earlier. Because it was Pirate Day.
I asked what that meant when we spoke on the phone early Saturday morning, but she refused to get into it. It wasn’t until I picked her up at the MSP airport that I got an explanation out of her.
Apparently it was some kind of anniversary of the day that pirates founded Tampa Bay, ensuring that they would be forever immortalized in the name of the city's NFL team. The official name of the event was Gasparilla Day, a day when the streets are clogged with people dressed as every imaginable (and many unimaginable) varieties of pirate. Why? They just arrrrrrre.
In addition to regular pirates, there were gay pirates, wenches, damsels in distress, and probably software and video pirates for all I know.
I was very disappointed that she didn't even bring me a hook or an eyepatch. See if she gets to go to Gasparilla day again.
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Our niece Deniece, whose third birthday was just a couple of weeks ago, is very happy about her new cousin. I think she wishes she could see him more, but she makes up for it by talking about him a lot.
They're still living in Iowa for another month or so, until they move back up here. For now, the distance means that there's very little jealousy over the addition of a newer, smaller cousin to the family. She's even sent him some of her used toys and unused diapers. Except that there's one thing M. Tiny has that she wants.
"Trash?" she asked my wife over the phone the other day.
"Yes?" Trash answered.
"Do you call M. Tiny Poopsmith?"
"Why yes!" Trash said.
Deniece collapsed into gales of laughter, as she does whenever someone mentions the nickname "Poopsmith." Even, as is increasingly the case, when it's her mentioning it.
"Because he poops a lot?" Deniece continued. Trash confirmed that it is so.
"I poop a lot," Deniece boasted.
Yes, Deniece dearly covets her cousin's scatological nickname. The Poopmeister or Sir Poopsalot will not do. She must be Poopsmith or nothing. That's how she pronounces it. Poopsmith.
We can only hope that once she and M. Tiny are in the same city, she won't do something desperate to claim the nickname for herself. Especially if we happen to be babysitting her at the time.
Today's best search phrase: "Vocab blows answers." Damn, there's a fetish for everything.
posted by M. Giant 7:44 PM 6 comments
I'm glad someone else has been completely nonplussed by Gasparilla. I happened to be visiting a friend in Tampa several years ago and my visit coincided with the celebration. Very bizarrrrrre. Ye scurvy dog. Avast!
Wow, Trah got out of there just in time. I lived in Tampa for a few years, and never got over hating Gasparrila. Or as we called it, Mardi Gras without any of the class.
Anybody know if that Pirate Day thing is the same event that was going on in the movie "Sunshine State"?
I now know where I need to take the Artist for a surprise next year when he's in the throes of SAD.
I've always loved hearing about Deniece, from nose-grabbing to cell-phoning to Meryl Streep overacting. She's a couple of weeks older than my daughter Rosalba, and they appear to come from the same mold of small assertive girl-ness. I look forward to hearing about her interaction with M. Tiny aka The Poop Ubermensch.
Okay, is your niece's name really Deneice, or is that just for blog purposes? That would be too funny for coincidence! Of course, I'm assuming your son's name really isn't M. Tiny.