I thought I’d share a cute video by Steve J Boyle called “I Hit Send, or Modern Meltdown“. It’s a poetry reading about Steven’s first crush, post-coming-out.
Some of the language may not be appropriate for all audiences, but it’s adorably funny.
I figured a little light humor would be good thing after such an unbelievably bad week.
Enjoy!
…or, Does this selfie make my ego look fat? 😛
By next month I will have been on Twitter for four years. Four years of absurd puns and double entendres, interrupted by the occasional political rant. It’s so easy to get caught up in righteous indignation that sometimes I forget why I joined twitter in the first place. — For the record, I joined twitter so I could send suggestive tweets to Craig Ferguson‘s Late Late Show. To my knowledge, he’s never read any of my tweets on air. 😦
Since 2010, I’ve joined Tumblr, I tried Blogspot (which I’ve neglected for almost two years), and somehow managed to acquire two G+ accounts. Though I only use one of them.
I chose twitter because it fit well with my personality. Facebook presents itself as this ever-growing community of “friends”. Twitter makes no such claims. On Twitter, people follow one another. No commitment is required. — unless you find yourself immersed in a hilarious hashtag game. (#MoviesMadeBetterWithSharks anyone?) I’ve established some interesting connections on twitter. I’ve even gone so far as to exchange my real contact information with a few of them. But those connections are very casual and fluid. Something about Facebook scares me. For one thing, I’m a bit shy around people that I don’t know. Then there’s the difficulty I have reaching out to people. I find it nearly impossible to make the first move. It’s a wonder I’m in a relationship. — Now there’s a good story I’ll save for another time.– Just because the interactions happen online, rather than in person, doesn’t make them any easier.
So, Facebook.
I DO have a Facebook account. I created it last year after my Acer tablet crashed. My tablet was a year past warranty so contacting Acer through their website was impossible. After trolling through some of the android forums, I learned that this was a common issue with Acer’s Iconia A500. Several forum posters claimed to have had good results after contacting Acer through Facebook. So I created a Facebook account, Acer fixed my tablet, and I’ve been ignoring Facebook ever since.
But why?
Well, the short answer is privacy. I’ve tried very hard to maintain a certain degree of online anonymity. The last thing I want is to have all that disappear because of some piece of wayward information that gets leaked. Sure, if you dig far enough you will discover that my true identity is Bruce Wayne and then I will have to kill you. But, for the most part, I’m very happy being an anonymous entity.
Then there’s Facebook’s intrusiveness. We’ve all read the stories. People’s accounts have been hacked. Private information was collected and sold. Everything you post, tag, or like, every single mouse click, is tracked and sold to marketing companies. This happens on every site you visit but, for some reason, Facebook gets all the press.
Maybe it’s because of ALL THOSE DAMNED PERSONAL QUESTIONS!
God help you if you intentionally leave some information blank! Facebook does not like blank fields. They take it as a personal failure if you don;t answer some of their questions. I’m still being pestered with “You haven’t finished filling out your profile information!”, “Where did you go to high school?”, and “HEY! You forgot to tell us your blood type!”, notifications every time I log on. Okay. That last one was fake but Jeeze! Give it a rest! Maybe I don’t want to give you my mother’s maiden name. 
There’s also the issue of time. I barely have enough time to keep up with WordPress. When I created ADignorantium.Wordpress, I promised myself that I would try to publish at least one post a week. If I can’t even do that, what makes me think I’m going to keep up with Facebook?
So here I am.
I changed my Facebook header to match my WordPress and Twitter headers. One must be consistent. Maybe that will encourage me to play around with Facebook. Who knows? Maybe I’ll like it.
Don’t forget to follow me on Twitter, Tumblr, and G+, subscribe to my YouTube channel, pin me on Pintre...wait! I don’t have a Pintrest account! And oh, yeah… if you friend me on Facebook it might take me a little while to get back to you. 😛
So, I got a new Windows 8 laptop and was trolling through YouTube for tips and tricks when I found this video.
The guy from Tek Syndicate is friggin hysterical!! — and I mean that in a friendly way.– He holds your attention as he demonstrates how to clean all the bloatware from your computer.. Even if you’re not a techie you’ll find this humorous as well as educational.
New Laptop: What to Do When You Get a New Notebook/Laptop/PC
BTW- He’s right about Norton anti-virus. Garbage.
FYI- This post is for education and entertainment purposes only. If you are unfamiliar with the inner workings of your computer, you should leave it to a knowledgeable professional. Neither I nor Tek Syndicate can be held accountable for your computer. In other words, you’re on your own.
See Glinda’s vacant smile in this picture?
She’s smiling because she’s evil! Eeeevil I tell you!
Think I’m kidding?
If you recall, Glinda started the conflict by giving Dorothy the shoes that were Ms West’s only remembrance of her sister, who was so tragically killed by a falling house.
Imagine how you’d feel if the cops gave your dead sibling’s shoes to the person responsible for his or her death.
Glinda is a trouble maker. She interrupts a distraught Wicked Witch, who is trying to find out what the hell has happened to her sister, with the antagonistic, “Aren’t you forgetting the Ruby Slippers?”
Huh?
The Ruby Slippers magically appear on Dorothy’s feet.
The Wicked Witch pleads for the tokens of her sister’s memory.
The very defiant Glinda says, “There they are. And there they’ll stay!”
Meanwhile, you can see Dorothy’s terror. Clearly she does not want to get involved. …and she sure as hell doesn’t want those shoes! – well, maybe.
Glinda further stirs the pot when she commands the Wicked Witch, “Be gone! Before somebody drops a house on you.”
Somewhat unsettled by this, the Wicked Witch takes her leave, – but not before threatening Dorothy and her dog Toto with bodily harm.
Formulating a plan, Glinda says to Dorothy, “I’m afraid you’ve made a rather bad enemy of the Wicked Witch Of The West.”
You just know Dorothy is thinking, “Wait. What? NO! I do not want to be part of this!”
This is where I think Glinda, upon sending Dorothy off on a wild goose chase, sets her plan in motion.
It’s a shortcut to Emerald City.
In my warped mind, Glinda sets off in her bubble to the Emerald City in order to convince the Wizard to use Dorothy as a means to finally rid themselves of Wicked Witches. Why not? She already killed one witch. what’s another? That’s why she sent Dorothy to the Emerald City by way of the more scenic Yellow Brick Rd, instead of the more direct Red Brick Rd. Everyone in Oz knows Yellow Brick Road runs right past Ms West’s Castle! It’s one of the premier tourist attractions of Oz!
My conspiracy theory comes from one single moment at the end of the film when you realize that Dorothy has been played.
Glinda, with a big smile on her face, says to Dorothy, “You’ve always had the power to go back to Kansas.”
Are you kidding me?!
I just wanted Dorothy to look Glinda straight in the eye and say, “I. Killed. The. Wrong. Witch!” I wanted Dorothy to beat the living daylight’s out of Glinda. …or maybe look around for another bucket of water. If it worked for one witch, maybe it would work on another.
Glinda, the “good” witch. Ha! I wanna smack that vacant smile right off that bitch’s face!
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So, I went in for X-Rays last week as part of a post-procedure checkup to see if the Lithotripsy did what it was supposed to do. — For those of you just tuning in, I’ve been dealing with an uncooperative right kidney for almost a decade. After three procedures, each with varying degrees of success, I underwent lithotripsy in order to remove the last of the debris that was floating around in there.
According to the report, there’s still some “scattered calcific densities” floating around but the large 8mm behemoth is gone. Yay!
Here’s the thing, though. Have you ever read your own medical records? If you haven’t, you better make sure you’ve got a sense of humor. A cup of espresso wouldn’t hurt either as there’s a lot of repetition and technical language. But the sense of humor is important because, well… Here’s a quote from my X-Ray report…
The bowel gas pattern is normal… The bones are grossly unremarkable.
Say what!? For the sake of decency, I’ll leave my bowel gas pattern to the professionals, but my poor bones. — They say beauty is only skin deep but, apparently, my bones are “grossly unremarkable”.
Ah well. It made me laugh and I hope it did you too. 🙂
As summer approaches, I prepare simple syrup for iced coffee in the morning. This seems like a good vessel for something sweet. 😛
Every joke and pun I can think of regarding that “man” bottle, and the sticky sweetness of simple syrup inside, is a bit too lewd for mixed company. 😉
Basic Recipe
makes approximately 1 1/2 cups1 cup sugar
1 cup waterSimple, right?
Combine sugar and water in a small saucepan and simmer over medium heat, stirring until sugar is completely dissolved. Allow mixture to cool, then decant into a clean container (preferably glass) with a tight-fitting lid. — or cork, like the sexy male torso bottle pictured. 😉Keeps in the refrigerator for several weeks.
Simple syrup is also great for fresh brewed iced tea and any mixed drink that calls for sugar.
Stay Cool!
Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, Intersex… I’m confused. Is the A for Ally or Asexual?
Can we please do something about this ever expanding alphabet soup of an acronym that we have come to embrace? It’s getting a little confusing and frankly, a little ridiculous. Seriously, every time I turn around it seems like we’ve tacked on another letter! I understand that it’s all part of the inclusiveness that our community is supposed to be embracing — and that’s a beautiful thing — but all it really does is confuse everyone except for those whose letter is represented.
How about choosing one all-inclusive word to encompass everyone? I liked gay but it’s become synonymous with homosexual men. So, it isn’t really all-inclusive anymore.
“Sexual minority” is all encompassing, though probably a little too clinical. You could maybe shorten it to the “SM” community but apparently, there already is an SM community.
Way back in the 1990s, some of the kids reclaimed “queer” but that word still holds negative connotations to me. It’s just as bad as that six letter F word. No, we need something optimistic, something bright, something trendy and cool. Like… “The Rainbow Community!” …No? You don’t like it? To be honest, neither do I. It brings to mind Rainbow Brite, My Little Pony, or worse… the Smurfs! Come to think of it, Papa Smurf does have that ‘daddy bear’ vibe. He’d probably fit right in at your friendly neighborhood leather bar.
The thing is, members of the LGBTQIA community come from all walks of life. Every ethnicity and socioeconomic background is represented within our community. We are a microcosm of the world! As such, each subgroup needs to be represented so that young LGBTQIA people don’t feel isolated within their own communities. It’s simpler than it sounds. Growing up gay, lesbian, or trans* can be a very lonely thing. Isolation leads to depression. Depression often leads to suicide. When you recognize the importance of representation, suddenly the alphabet soup doesn’t seem so bad.
So, I guess I can live with the ever expanding, all inclusive, acronym that has come to represent our equally varied and colorful community.
They say variety is the spice of life.
It certainly makes life more interesting.
Happy Pride Month Everybody!
So here it is, another Mother’s Day. One day out of the year when we say, “Hey thanks mom. Sorry for the temper tantrums, the dirty laundry, the million dishes, and the years of heartache. Today, families everywhere treat their moms to breakfast in bed, brunch, or dinner reservations. Little kids present hand drawn cards that mothers with cherish forever, and fathers give kisses, flowers and boxes of chocolates — and those dainty, ill-fitting, single-use pieces of silken fabric that mom will “save for a special occasion” that she knows will never come.
This one day out of the year is spent honoring the woman who did the best she could to ensure that you would succeed.
I want everyone to hold onto the spirit of this day when they go about their daily business. I want people to remember their mothers every time they interact with women. Every single man needs to treat every single woman with the same respect that every mother deserves.
If your mother was more Joan Crawford than June Cleaver, I feel for you. I don’t mean to suggest that you treat women as you would your own Mommie Dearest. Just follow the golden rule. Treat people (women too) the way you want to be treated.
Every faith in the world has it’s own version of the golden rule. Why then do we treat each other like shit?
If you still have trouble figuring it out, pretend your mother is in the room. If you wouldn’t say it or do it in front of your mother, then you probably shouldn’t be saying or doing it.
And a very happy Mother’s Day to all the unconventional mother figures out there. Single dads and LGBT parents need love too. 🙂
I realize you know everything about everything, so I’ll make this brief.
Oh. One last thing. When you get older, there’s gonna be this thing called the internet. It’s gonna be huge! It’ll be a great outlet for creativity. But please, please, please, please, PLEASE try to come up with a user I.D. that’s easier to understand than ADignorantium! I mean, seriously… What the hell were you thinking? 😛
Dear readers, the following post was intended for publishing on Friday, the seventh of February Unfortunately, as I was recovering from surgery, my close friend Fran passed away. I’m posting it anyway, along with an addendum, because it illustrates the kind of winter I’m having. 🙂
So… I had Lithotripsy a few weeks ago. Was it painful? Not really, but I do feel as if someone kicked me in the back. The forecast for the day of surgery was heavy rain turning into wet snow by noon. Great! My other half was thoughtful enough to reserve a room at the small hotel where he works. So, instead of having to wait in the rain for a bus at 4:30am, we could walk just a few blocks to the hospital.
I’m fortunate to live in Philadelphia, a city that has one of the largest and best healthcare networks in the country. We have Hahnemann, Jefferson, Temple, and the University of Pennsylvania health systems all within the city limits.
I was the first patient Monday morning. Lucky me! The staff was thorough. At every step of the way I was asked to recite my name, date of birth, allergies, and the Magna Carta, then recite it all once more as I lay on the OR table. This was my fifth kidney procedure, so I’ve gotten to know most of the Pennsylvania hospital staff pretty well. One of the pre-administration lab technicians has a wicked sense of humor. I guess you’d have to if you spent your day stabbing patients in the arm in search of a good vein.
So I was laying on this strange operating table with a cutout underneath in which a water filled gel pad that emits sound waves protrudes. The doctor maneuvered me over the gel pad. The technician strapped me in. The anesthesiologist joked with me that I keep coming back for surgery because of their excellent selection of anesthetics. I don’t remember anything after the oxygen mask was placed over my face. I suspect the anesthesiologist slipped me a Mickey.
The next thing I knew, a nurse was hovering over me with a big smile. “How do you feel?” Like I want to go back to sleep. “Fine”, I said. I really did want to go back to sleep, though. I also wanted some more of whatever it was they gave me for pain. The chorus of The Floaters’ classic “Float On” comes to mind.
“Float. Float on…”
After an hour or so of “recovery time”, I was wheeled out to the lobby where the reality of the day’s snow accumulation stared back at me. While waiting for a cab, we saw a bus and took it.
It was good to get home.
I made myself comfortable on the sofa to wait for love to return home from the pharmacy, bearing gifts of antibiotics and pain killers. You know when you think everything is okay, but you feel just a little off? Not anything major, just ever so slightly off center. That’s how I felt. The more I moved around, the less like myself I felt. Maybe I’d be better off laying down in bed.
Oh right… freshly cleaned sheets. YAY!
I turned on the TV, changed into some comfy clothes, and climbed into bed. That was all she wrote. I was out! Gone! I awoke the next morning stiff and achy and determined not to spend the day in bed.
I still feel a bit sore, but I’m doing well and trying not to use the pain killers too often.
Addendum…
A week later, we took advantage of the break in the snow by climbing up and inspecting the roof and gutters. Because I have a longer reach than Love, I laid down on the roof and reached over the edge to attach the Roof & Gutter De-icing Cable. As I reached and stretched, I heard what sounded like a snap, followed by a sharp pain in my rib, which was pressed against the edge of the roof. I’m not gonna lie. I panicked. After a few moments, I took a couple of deep breaths to inflate my lungs. There was pain, but nothing that indicated a broken rib.
So, if you need your walk shoveled or someone to carry your groceries in from the car, please be kind enough to ask someone else. I think I’m gonna lay low for a while. 😮
ADignorantium 