Thursday, January 22, 2009
We'll be back to regular blogging on Monday. Don't anybody inaugurate any new presidents or ethnically cleanse any Mideast ghettos while we're gone!
UPDATE! Monday has been rescheduled for Wednesday on account of bird flu. UPDATE UPDATE! Wednesday has been rescheduled for Thursday because of its more amenable patron deity. UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE! Thursday has been postponed til Friday 'cause you know what? We don't like your attitude, young man. UPDATE! Okay, so it didn't happen today either. But that just shows the kind of strong commitment to principle we have here at Fafblog. Oh sure, we could've written something for Monday. And we could've written something for Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, too. But that'd just be taking the easy way out. We'll not-post today, we'll not-post tomorrow, and we'll not-post for as long as it takes just to satisfy you, our dedicated readers! P.S. see you on Monday. Labels: blog ogg gog
posted by fafnir at 11:36 AM
Don't [...] ethnically cleanse any Mideast ghettos while we're gone
Whoops. *Sneaks out the back door.*
I assume by Monday you mean in the sense, or in relation, to your "qualified relationship to linear time"
I swear the good ship Fafblog get's closer and closer to the open jaws of the giant fish every time I look. I sense doom. (and my captcha fartam seems menacing as well)
I'm starting to think that the moon landing was real, but everything else was filmed on a sound stage. That would explain the bad casting and all.
If you're gonna ninja post don't make us change all our plans like that. Sorry about the Chaldeans, but you could have said earlier. I may have to do that rss thingy after all.
And I'm not really anonymous I just can't spell "fitusl" and then find the right button just to prove I'm Alan Turing or not Alan Turing or whatever it is Blogger wants.
It's Monday. There's no new posting on Fafblog.
So it is clear that things are indeed back to normal after the frenzied activity of the past few weeks. Ooo. My squiggle word thingy says "enchant."
And that will be Wednesday the what of what, now? And I don't believe you on that bird flu stuff. Everything gets blamed on bird flu nowadays.
The what of what now = celneab... see? I ain't drunk.
Together with astelehen and asteazken, the name "astearte" has often been taken as meaning that the Basques once recognized a three-day week, but such an arrangement seems inconvenient and implausible. Moreover, the absence of the expected combining form *asta-, the absence of any resolution of the hiatus and the apparent retention in the second of the aspiration in an illegal position all indicate strongly that all three words are late formations, though of wholly obscure motivation.
This is outrageous, shameful, the height of irresponsibility. You took our bailout and this is what the public gets in return? No stimulus for you, Fafnir.
I'm tempted to keep clicking the comment button all night because of these fun words.
"Phasible." "Pacricti." "Ritsiste." "Giediums." Much more fun than that letters-and-numbers junk you usually see...
Fifty more minutes.
Fifty more minutes for you to keep your promise. Fifty more minutes for me to obsessively press the refresh button. Fifty more minutes for my hear to be broken. Again. For the fourth time.
It's not easy to tell the difference between post-modernist blogging and not-post blogging modernism.
On second thought ... It is.
Obviously, we have become so inured to fafnirlessness that we believe all this... just like good fat little pie freaks... just like space lizard food.
It's a lie. He didn't mention Sunday and that's when he's making his move.
I think of this exercise as the sort of thing one sees in Dominant/Submissive sex play, when one is teased with the possibility of cumming, only to be denied it again and again. The analogy would be perfect if Fafnir actually cared whether we are ever satisfied. Fafnir, of course, is a thoroughly postmodern Dom, and in fact cares only for pie. As is only right and proper.
My word verification thingy is now sending me messages from God or my mom or something. It said "gogym." Yeah, I know, I really should...
|
|
|