grammatical tagging [happy sigh]

from the rut. via Dave

This may, in fact, be the best cartoon representation of my kind of social disobedience. As ever, Dave, you and your betrothed sparkle with well-mannered bad behavior. I am not barely so worthy (false modesty is just annoying).

wifi weekend update

This past weekend was WiFi weekend at the B&E Show. That's right. I got my nerd groove on. More or less. Without making the low-tech among you succumb to the vapors from geek-speak, I will quickly sum up Saturday's activities:

• partition new external back up drive [stay with me, stay with me], check
• back up hard drives [for the first, oh-the-shame, time], check
• update operating system, scary check
• make sure numerous and expensive software programs still function, big check
• install wireless card correctly, proud check
• hook up wifi base station so as to share the DSL love with the family, oh shit. half-check!

Enter my good and dear friend SuperDave, renamed Tireless Wireless Techno Wizard, accompanied by his redefining-the-word-snazzilicious FI-ance, Dr. Ding.

Having used our friendship to lure them over to do my bidding offer tech support, I felt that the least I could do to thank them was to make real Dave's recent weird food/fantasy post: bacon cups*. For brunch. Filled with homemade fried potatoes 'n onions and scrambled eggs.

Ooo baby, ooo baby. That was a seriously unhealthy, exercise-cancelling, pig-juice-soaked breakfast. And if I do say so myself, it was damn fine. I'd have to walk to this Austin museum to compensate.

Tech service was more than worth the bacon braiding. (Truth be told, bacon braiding is its own reward, dear readers.) We have green lights and secure connections. Praise Dave and Local Area Network technology.

Oh, and every time Dave and I referred to modems, base stations, ip addresses , etc. both Barbara and Her Dingness began bushman-dialect-like clicking to demonstrate the foreign quality to our dialog. A great way to spend a Sunday, any way you look at it.

And now some footnote groveling:
*I should have written bacon cups by Megan at notmartha via Dave at abovetheaether. Poor documentation on my part, no offense intended to Megan and her culinary brilliance.

...and emmett, blinko, ronald & bobo make fifteen fourteen*

In homage to Catholic and Mormon reproductive systems worldwide.
(via Dave from Dulamae's fickr page)

Just when I think Dave has posted one too many drunken, flip-off photos of me and I would like to slather superglue all over his mouse, he sends this beauty. Instant forgiveness and state of grace, epiphenita-style (which is to say, peeing your pants while laughing your way to hell). Thank you, Dave. I can't seem to wear the humor out of this one.

*Shit. I miscounted the spawn menagerie. Got lost in a sea of navy blazers, blue prairie print dresses and matching hair forms. (Epiphenita, you mean they don't have fifteen kids? Only fourteen? What a bunch of procreating failures.) Is the urge to toss a bucket of blood vat of cherry jello on this righteous pile of homogeneity SO wrong? I mean, just to bring some warm tones into the photo? I think not.