On Wednesday my hosting company blocked access to all my sites, with the exception of Maturity, and used the phrase “resource hog.” Meaning I was using more than my fair share. There’s a pithy political metaphor in there somewhere, but I’m already bored with it.
In any case, we came to an agreement whereby I pay $25 more per month, in exchange for them leaving me the fuck alone. They wanted an extra $57, so this feels like a minor victory.
I have tons more resources at my disposal now, and am no longer sharing a server with 800 other websites whose owners are apparently happy to see me go. I guess I’m a bad neighbor?
Yeah, I feel soooo ashamed, creating something that people actually want to read. I’m a regular Adolph Hitler.
But the migration from the old server to the new one went reasonably well. There were a couple of bumps in the road, but as far as I know everything is as it was. Hopefully I can now get back to never thinking about my hosting company again… ’cause when I’m thinking about them, it’s not a good day.
This week one of the boys — once again — deposited what I’m envisioning as a cannonball of feces down the upstairs toilet. And the thing sealed off like a submarine.
So, over the course of a day and a half I was up there, off and on, plunging and hollering, “Have you ever heard of a glass of water?! Try it sometime, and you might stop shoving out HoneyBaked Hams! Jesus!!”
I think I now require Tommy John surgery, as a result of the Xtreme Plunging, but I finally achieved a breakthrough. And man… when it all lets loose, there’s a great sense of satisfaction. I was walking on sunshine for hours, after declaring victory over that mega-turd. If you’d like to send me a congratulatory eCard, nobody’s stopping you.
For the record, here are three oft-used words or phrases that make me cringe:
West “By God” Virginia (Or simply West By God)
I implore all the world’s population: please stop it. You think it’s cute, but it is not. Thank you for your attention to this matter.
Last weekend I rented a movie from Redbox for the first time. It was pretty great. I got This Is The End for $1.29, and watched it with the younger boy. And, except for this part, I loved it.
That scene is funny enough, but I was sitting beside my 15 year old son at the time… And the thing went on and on; it seemed to last for 20 minutes. Both of us were just staring straight ahead with no expressions on our faces, wishing it would end already. It felt like I was 12 again, with my parents, enduring a TV commercial about “personal freshness.”
But overall the movie was a lot of fun, and I recommend it. I liked Redbox too. Except for one small thing… While I was using it, a line started forming behind me. So, I was under pressure to complete the transaction and get out of everybody’s way. I didn’t want to become the person I complain about.
So, when it said I could add a second movie for 50 cents, I declined. And when it asked for my email address, so I could receive promo codes etc., I declined again. I got in and out, and moved aside for people who almost certainly didn’t extend the same consideration to the people behind them.
My plan: To stop in there on my way home from work, during the middle of the night, and have that Redbox all to myself. It’ll be my own private kiosk, without the social pressure of a gang of eye-rolling weight-shifting teenagers queuing up behind me.
Yes, it’ll just be me and the ladies from the grocery store, having a smoke break, and telling stories to one another with their cig and bourbon-ravaged voices in which the narrator is invariably a bad-ass who tells it like it is, and if people don’t like it, tough shit. These are my people.
And I’m gonna call it a week here, my friends. Thanks for reading. If you know someone who might enjoy this new site, please tell them about it. Also, don’t forget about social media: share the updates you enjoy at Twitter and Facebook. It helps a great deal.
Have a great weekend!
I’ll see you guys again on Monday.