Another point of personal privilege: Ranting at Google

Almost five years ago, I started this blog with Google, mainly because it was very easy to maneuver through and set up even for a Luddite like myself.  I also didn't expect I would actually keep the blog up for very long, but would become bored with it over time and let it die on the vine with 99 percent of all other blogs on the Interwebs.

But it turned out that there were a lot more really, really bad commercials out there, and they just kept coming, so almost five years later I can still churn out twenty or so posts a month.  And I even managed to make a little money by using AdSense for a while, until some idiots thought they would be "helpful" by clicking away at every ad until a big red flag started waving in Google's face.  Goodbye AdSense, goodbye not essential but very welcome cash every few months.

Then came the glitches.  My toolbar would randomly disappear.  My comment count would vanish and then pop back up from day to day.  Comments would be visible, then invisible.  And some time in July, my daily hit count dropped dramatically and has not recovered  (I was averaging 1500 hits a day last spring, it's down to about 300 now, while my Follower total has inched up a bit, suggesting to me that the Stats are seriously flawed.)

In short, this blog has become more of a chore than it really needs to be, and I wonder why this is so. I wonder why it's so hard to keep tool bars available.  I wonder why the stats can't be more reliable, or why the whole thing seems designed to crash every few days.  At some point I suppose I'll find another platform for this blog because I still enjoy doing it, but I can't help but wonder why the service is becoming more buggy and less manageable as all other technology becomes smoother, more functional and more easy to use.  Anyone have any ideas?  How about you, Chirpy Google Girl?

Maybe I should have been more suspect of a search engine named for a shiny but otherwise virtually worthless, easily damaged cousin of tin foil.

These people might as well be living on another planet. Of course, that would be asking too much.

Have you ever wished lupus on an entire family?

I just don't get why commercials for upscale cars feel the need to hammer into us the fact that their product is for insufferably rich, spoiled brats whose lives are already perfect anyway.  It's as if they are worried that one of us working-class stiffs might actually soil a Cadillac, Audi or Lexus dealership with our unwelcome presence.

Hey, high-end car manufacturers:  Don't worry, we get it.  These commercials are not aimed at 99% of us.  They are aimed exclusively at people with pretty spouses, pretty kids, big houses maintained by Latino cleaning crews, and a "need" for a big gleaming car that allows them to take their pretension on the road with them.   We'll stick to Honda, Toyota, Ford and Volkswagen, promise.

Now please, stop assaulting us with this disgusting, hate-infused and hate-inducing crud already.

Or maybe it has something to do with Tom Brady and Bill Belichick, moron

Dear Fat, Stupid Patriots Fan:

I wonder- for how many years have you let Ramsey ruin your football-watching experience because you've decided that New England's decade-plus of regular success was somehow cosmically connected to his pathetic, juvenile rants?

I mean, he comes over and spends three hours spitting at your screen, throwing snacks all over your living room, and basically just behaving like a psychotic dick with no regard for any other human being because neither you nor anyone else has the spine to tell him to shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down, or get the fuck out?  And this is because you think he somehow influences the outcome of a football game?  Really?

Oh, and he brings Bud Lite?  First of all, that's not a plus.  Second, if you really love Bud Lite that much, it's not the most expensive beer on the market, and buying your own while locking the door on this moron sounds like a pretty damned good investment to me.  Third, seriously- Bud Lite?

I'll just finish what I hope is a very helpful letter with just a few additional points.  If Ramsey is a regular at your house, wasn't he there when the Patriots coughed up that playoff game to the Ravens last year?  How about those two times they faded late in the Superbowl against the Giants?  If the Pats "always win" when Ramsey is there, that means he's been there exactly twice in a row.  And this is "magical" to you somehow?

One more thing.  The Patriots are perhaps the worst 2-0 team in football right now.  They've played two crappy teams and were lucky to win both games.  I suspect that the Amazing Ramsey Effect is going to fail very, very soon.  I hope you take that opportunity to divorce yourself of your sad delusion and give Ramsey a swift kick in the ass as he exits your house for good.  Because he really is a douchenozzle.  This Patriots fan wouldn't have him in his house for five minutes, let alone three freaking hours every week, because I've kind of figured out that the Patriots have been very good at winning regular season games for going on a dozen years now, Ramsey or no Ramsey.

Finish This Commercial!

My favorite fantasy endings:

1.  The bodies of these two 1%-er jackanapes are found several days later, because they forgot that while it's nice to have a phone with a powerful battery while stranded on a desert island, a supply of fresh water is even better.

2.  When the battery DOES die before help can arrive, these two disgusting dickwads reconsider their decision to waste it on a Virtual Fireplace App as they stare impending death in the face.

3.  When a summoned rescue team gets word that this couple needs an assist, they remember that they parked their gold Lexus SUV straddling two spaces at the marina and decide to let them rot, let's see how much their money comforts them now, the privileged dicks.

4.  When a fishing excursion accidentally stumbles across the crab-infested corpses of these Formerly Beautiful People, it's amazed and impressed at the fact that the phone lasted longer than the FBPs did.

Fox's "new" comedy

This fall, coming to FOX!!

Just in case there was anyone out there in tv land who wasn't already convinced that American males in their thirtysomethings weren't classless, tasteless, brainless, sex-obsessed lunatics who couldn't tie their shoes and chew gum at the same time unless there was a strong, sexy, smart woman around to assist, we present a---umm..."new" comedy, DADS!!

Though the show features new---ummm...."stars," you'll love it because it will all seem strangely, comfortingly familiar!  Idiot guys making obvious, juvenile sex jokes!  Hot women simultaneously disgusted yet inexplicably attracted to Said Idiot Guys!  Everyone living in huge apartments or houses which do not in any way equate with the jobs of the occupants!

And we aren't promising anything but....think there won't be a precocious kid popping in here and there?  Really?  Did you stop watching television in 1960, or what?

So sit back and enjoy 22 minutes of scruffy, stupid men who are allegedly friends tossing unnecessary, unproductive barbs at each other in between leering at women who are Obviously Way Too Good For Them!  If you can't be in front of your tv, don't forget to set your DVR, 'cause you won't want to miss this---ummm---"original" new offering from Fox!  We'd hate to think that you ever get over your impression that every man on television is a slovenly, witless douchenozzle who misplaced his razor weeks ago and is clearly not ready to be out on his own yet!

And I can remember thinking My Two Dads was bottom-of-the-barrel dreck.  Oh, where have you gone, Paul Reiser?

I'd like to tell Toyota where they can go

I wish that all the wannabee poets and songwriters who write car commercials could be jammed into the same cannon and launched into the same damned jagged rock, myself.

I also wish that Toyota would stop trying to convince us that their cars can take us places no other cars can.  Jesus, they are cars.  They've got four wheels, seats, steering and braking devices.  They are all capable of cruising down the same damn highways as all other cars.  Get the hell over yourselves already.

And while we are at it- hey, Toyota?  When people are driving Toyotas, they are sitting still.  At most, their activity level rises to include adjusting the stereo or consulting the onboard GPS.  Stop trying to convince us that flying past interesting-looking things somehow equates to doing interesting things.  And while we are on the subject,

99.99% of Toyota owners will never, ever use their cars to crash through streams (and that's a good thing) or really do ANYTHING except get from Boring Point A to Boring Point B.  When I want to see the woods, I walk through them.  When I want to see the top of a mountain, I climb up it.  When I want to buy a new car, I don't think "ok, will this one get me where I want to go?" because THEY ALL WILL.  I don't spend a whole lot of time thinking "gee, I'd like to do this cool thing someday- but what kind of automobile can handle the trip?"  Because if I need a rugged vehicle to do something, it's something I want to do ON MY OWN POWER THANKS ANYWAY.

Simply put- I'm not interested in slapping a "This Car Climbed Pike's Peak" sticker on my car's bumper.  I AM interested in someday putting a "I Climbed Pike's Peak" sticker on my backpack.

I'll conclude by wishing Toyota would just STFU and stop selling us the ludicrous idea that a car is some kind of magical vehicle which allows us to jump rainbows and make our miserable lives just a little more bearable.  Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for another long walk.

Wake me up when September ends

Here's another Burlington Back to...ahem..."school" ad.  There are about half a dozen of these flooding the airwaves this week, and they all have the same message: Ten year old kids are anxious to look really hot this year so they can attract members of the opposite sex.

Personally, I'd rather watch another 200 "where'd you get that showy piece of junk? OFFICE DEPOT!" ads than even one more of these Little Kids Trying to be Fashion Plates nuggets of crud.  Really makes me appreciate my school's dress code.  And that the boys and girls are separated by about three miles.