Well, that's a load off my mind

Taken today in Lexington, OK:



This might seem silly to you heathens out there, but the healing powers of The Lord are well-known:



Meanwhile, on a less cheerful note, we also drove past this one today, just outside of Ada:



Now, don't pay attention to what the words say, because that's not the focus here. Or, if you're way into The Lord, by all means pay attention, but then focus elsewhere once you're done reading. WHAT IN THE NAME OF CRAP IS WRONG WITH THOSE HANDS? They're like some sort of awful, twisted claw-hands.



I mean, just look at that. Look at it. Can you do that with your hands? No, because you don't have claw-hands. But you know who does? Scorponok.



WE HAVE TO SAVE JESUS FROM SCORPONOK BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE

Past, present, future websitery

Hi. You might not remember me. I run a website. This one, actually. Crazy. I don't think anyone actually comes here anymore, but to the seven or eight of you who still do, I'm sorry I haven't done anything on here lately. I mean, I'm sure the internet is ablaze with furor about updates on the health and quantity of my aquarium fish, but updates regarding anything else have been sparse lately. As in maybe two in the last six years or so. Sorry, my bad. On the other hand, I suppose you can't complain, because aside from the one or two people who sent me five bucks back in 2004, (thanks dudes~) it's not like you're paying for this or anything. But you see, that's the thing: I AM paying for this thing. I pay like thirty bucks every three months for this, (actually, about 45, when I forget and pay on the fourth month...) and lately, I really haven't been giving myself my money's worth.



And the course this website has taken is, by any standard, absolutely retarded. It started off in 1998 as a free 10-megabyte Geocities page , (which I eventually outgrew, and with visions of taking the internet by storm with my musings on Mr. T and the newest GWAR album or whatever, I signed up with ChamberGates abandoned Geocities or Tripod or whoever I was using at the time, and Websurfnicaragua.com was born. Looking back, I wonder what would have happened if the internet's shopping capabilities hadn't gotten me fully exposed to Sacred Reich's back catalog around that time. Thinking about the way smaller size of my CD collection at the time, there's a chance this could have been named something like "www.thistoiletearth.com" or "www.selftitledsuicidaltendenciesalbum.com" now, or something else along those lines. In retrospect, I should have just registered something like "sextits.com," and made it a blank page full or banner advertisements, and I probably would have spent 2006 through 2008 typing this crap from a mansion in Hawaii, instead of a leaky shithole on Eufaula Street. Live and learn. But anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yeah -



I started this thing as a free website that I updated constantly, then turned it into a paid-for website that I never update at all. And to make matters worse, it's now mostly just a placeholder for this here blogger.com blog-type page, which is actually something that you don't fucking have to pay for. So I pay 120 bucks a year to put a fancy address on a free-ass blog that I don't even use. This makes no goddamn sense. But to make it make even less sense, I actually have been typing crap for the internet - on someone else's dang blog. You see, I was disturbed at how Chicago Bears-centric that this website had been getting, so when Raven Mack or Mike Dikk or whoever it was got all "hey, who wants to type up hopefully-amusing stuff about your chosen NFL team," I was all "okay, sure," and have spent the last year or so as somewhere between the first and third best Chicago Bears contributor to Armchair Linebacker. I think we've only got about ten teams covered now, but the Falcons dude plays it too straight and the Patriots dude is an absolute homo, so I would ask you, the gentle reader, if you'd like to try your hand at that sort of thing, but I'm too low on the totem pole to make that sort of decision, and if I know the internet, it's full of people who want to write things but suck at it, so not to be impolite, but screw y'all.



So I got a free website, started paying for it, stopped updating it, then started updating someone else's crap. What sort of maniac does this? Holy crap. So yeah, I now fully announce my intention to actually do some crap around here. What it will actually be is a whole 'nother question, and I'll figure out something eventually. Maybe something about how the country of Japan and jazz music need to be eliminated, or a 15,000 word essay on how the Maniac Cop films have changed my life. Who knows. I know every other time I get ~BIG PLANS~ for this thing, I tend to get hit with at least eight months or typist's block, as shown by this website title image thingy I was going to use in 2008, but just never got around to redesigning the site, and is now being seen for the first time ever in public:



Hopefully, this time, it'll be different and I can come up with something amusing. As some sort of empty gesture to fool my mind into thinking that I'll actually update a website that belongs to me from time to time, I just signed up for a Twitter account, and if you sign up as a follower, you'll get a tweet every ten months when something drops. I also went ahead and got a personal type one, and if I've learned anything from Facebook and Myspace, it's that I'll probably never, ever touch it again, but you an go ahead and follow it if you want to. I'm not gonna say what it is, because you internet types scare me, and I've already had to protect it, because I got two porn spam followers I had to delete within ten seconds of creating the account. It frightens me deeply to think of what the unprotected website one is going to get. Especially considering that back when I still had my web statistics turned on, it turned out that most of the people who come here from search engines show up looking for incest photos or something else along those lines. And it's funny to think about, because I'm sure this very post will get at least one person searching for that sort of thing. So to that guy - YOU ARE MESSED UP, DUDE. But yeah, to anyone else who wants my real Twitter account, (which I'm assuming will be my mom and maybe two or three other people) just ask me for it somewhere other than this website, or you might be able to find it on there searching first and last name. (and it's under the actual FIRST name, and not the middle one) Anyone else who doesn't know my real name or can't contact me through other means, be it phone, email, other internet social type crap, or just coming up to me going "dude, what's your username" can probably fuck off. Not saying that you ALL can fuck off; just the vast majority of you. You internet people are usually terrible.



Summing up, I haven't been updating, that's weird, I've been doing some stuff at Armchair Linebacker, I'm hoping to do stuff on here, I got a website twitter thingy you can follow, I got a personal Twitter thingy that most of y'all need to stay the hell away from, and you've probably spent like five minutes reading a post essentially about nothing. Wow. I feel kind of bad now. Here's a dollar: