There is an idea I got from a looooong time ago, where a blog visitor can choose which experience they will have based upon which path they choose in the opening web page.
Let's see if I can pull this off for the Sunday Sideshow, which is a friggin blast to do, even if no one ever sees it.
But now, for a decent Saturday thing.
WEAW for you, TDC Enjoyer.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Sunday Side Show SHED
I got an idea about doing the "Weekend At Willies Sunday Side Show for TDC" in a new manner.
I'll have to create a new website, just for the Sunday Thing, in order for this idea to work.
You see, the color scheme of the front page of the Mighty TDC simply does not give the reader the "willies."
Here's a test.
This gunna be fun.
It’s Sunday at the Mighty TDC. This means a Sunday Sideshow for you. God Help You.
This Sunday Side Show Shed contains many things for you to explore, or else get nightmares from, or just maybe, enjoy. Sometimes fear and pain bring arousal and pleasure. Depends upon which end of the knife you are on, true? Care to descend into the madness of the caverns below the Shed? Let’s go.
I'll have to create a new website, just for the Sunday Thing, in order for this idea to work.
You see, the color scheme of the front page of the Mighty TDC simply does not give the reader the "willies."
Here's a test.
This gunna be fun.
It’s Sunday at the Mighty TDC. This means a Sunday Sideshow for you. God Help You.
This Sunday Side Show Shed contains many things for you to explore, or else get nightmares from, or just maybe, enjoy. Sometimes fear and pain bring arousal and pleasure. Depends upon which end of the knife you are on, true? Care to descend into the madness of the caverns below the Shed? Let’s go.
Friday, January 8, 2010
For WEAW January 9, 2010
I decided to write about my experience in quitting smoking. I only smoked at night, not during the day. So, quite possibly, I could have averted the cravings by going to sleep right after work. But actually, the withdrawals began to affect each waking moment.
To wit:
Welcome to the Weekend At Willies Edition of The Daily Column.
Here’s a check-off list for you.
1. Comfy seat
2. Internet is connected (whosever it is)
3. Computer is all warmed up and idling
4. Snuggie
5. Coffee/ frosty cold beverage/ other intoxicant
6. Cigarettes. Aww.... Wicked bummah chummy. Well anyways, get your shit together and we’ll go for a walk.
Ready? Turn this mutha up and let’s go.
Ahhh. Lemmy. Gobless ya. One thing about ol’ Lemmy is that he still parties on like he was 18. He still looks about the same, as well. Gnarly, hairy face with the three big Lemmy warts, his breakfast of whiskey and ciggies, and non-stop draankin till the next morning. But I ain’t no Lemmy.
One thing about cigarettes, they sure are hard to give up. I miss ‘em, even though they smell like ass and taste like shit. Nothing like that first puff…mmmmHm…. Head rush.
Well, first thing you know, everyone starts to act like a dumbass, I mean, more than usual. They drive like a dumbass, they ask dumbass questions, and they even look at you with their big moon faces, just pissing you off. Dumbasses.
So that is where I was until a friend in the forum recommended the Patch. Thanks JMiller. You probably saved a dozen dumbasses from imminent doom. Suddenly, everyone stopped trying to piss me off each moment, the sun came out, birds were landing on my shoulders like fucking Disney, and I didn’t smoke.
Saved money on ammo, too.
Got some links for ya. Ca you tell which ones I found before I put the patch on?
This is the worst video and song I’ve ever seen and heard.
Here are the top 12 most fascinating astronomy articles of 2009.
This guy needs to stop showing the hell off and making the rest of us who are trying to get healthy feel bad. He climbs rock walls. He climbs them sidways, upsidedown, and with dance moves.
Monkeyman: Extreme Climber
Diagonal View | MySpace Video
(From site: )
Just don't fall. Like, 200 feet down the wall. And survive? Dumbass. Fix your damn clothes dryer, bitch.
Don't get fooled by this guy who slipped off the ladder, now hanging from the gutter. One of ten of the worst Xmas decorations, now that you've taken yours down. You've taken them down, haven't you? Dumbass.
Dude hates Pachelbel. Can't blame him.
Got some extra cash? Why not stack it and use a laser to etch art out of it? Yeah, go fu-
Ten top cities in the world with the most beautiful women. Like this is real, right? Dumbass who wrote this.
Just be careful when you visit strange lands. In Dubai, you can get arrested for being raped. You should be married to the rapist first. Dumbasses over there.
Hack some stops. This is pretty asinine.
Sleeping Bear Bag. Pretty gay.
Marco is ok. His blog.
Check out this fish with the see-through head. What a dumbass fish.
Mmmmm....Roll your own. Snowballs that is. They roll themselves in Britland.
Now I gotta walk. Help take my mind off cigarettes. Miss ya, lil honeys.
Se ya on Sunday for a Sideshow.
---willies out.
To wit:
Welcome to the Weekend At Willies Edition of The Daily Column.
Here’s a check-off list for you.
1. Comfy seat
2. Internet is connected (whosever it is)
3. Computer is all warmed up and idling
4. Snuggie
5. Coffee/ frosty cold beverage/ other intoxicant
6. Cigarettes. Aww.... Wicked bummah chummy. Well anyways, get your shit together and we’ll go for a walk.
Ready? Turn this mutha up and let’s go.
Ahhh. Lemmy. Gobless ya. One thing about ol’ Lemmy is that he still parties on like he was 18. He still looks about the same, as well. Gnarly, hairy face with the three big Lemmy warts, his breakfast of whiskey and ciggies, and non-stop draankin till the next morning. But I ain’t no Lemmy.
One thing about cigarettes, they sure are hard to give up. I miss ‘em, even though they smell like ass and taste like shit. Nothing like that first puff…mmmmHm…. Head rush.
Well, first thing you know, everyone starts to act like a dumbass, I mean, more than usual. They drive like a dumbass, they ask dumbass questions, and they even look at you with their big moon faces, just pissing you off. Dumbasses.
So that is where I was until a friend in the forum recommended the Patch. Thanks JMiller. You probably saved a dozen dumbasses from imminent doom. Suddenly, everyone stopped trying to piss me off each moment, the sun came out, birds were landing on my shoulders like fucking Disney, and I didn’t smoke.
Saved money on ammo, too.
Got some links for ya. Ca you tell which ones I found before I put the patch on?
This is the worst video and song I’ve ever seen and heard.
Here are the top 12 most fascinating astronomy articles of 2009.
This guy needs to stop showing the hell off and making the rest of us who are trying to get healthy feel bad. He climbs rock walls. He climbs them sidways, upsidedown, and with dance moves.
Monkeyman: Extreme Climber
Diagonal View | MySpace Video
(From site: )
Just don't fall. Like, 200 feet down the wall. And survive? Dumbass. Fix your damn clothes dryer, bitch.
Don't get fooled by this guy who slipped off the ladder, now hanging from the gutter. One of ten of the worst Xmas decorations, now that you've taken yours down. You've taken them down, haven't you? Dumbass.
Dude hates Pachelbel. Can't blame him.
Got some extra cash? Why not stack it and use a laser to etch art out of it? Yeah, go fu-
Ten top cities in the world with the most beautiful women. Like this is real, right? Dumbass who wrote this.
Just be careful when you visit strange lands. In Dubai, you can get arrested for being raped. You should be married to the rapist first. Dumbasses over there.
Hack some stops. This is pretty asinine.
Sleeping Bear Bag. Pretty gay.
Marco is ok. His blog.
Check out this fish with the see-through head. What a dumbass fish.
Mmmmm....Roll your own. Snowballs that is. They roll themselves in Britland.
Now I gotta walk. Help take my mind off cigarettes. Miss ya, lil honeys.
Se ya on Sunday for a Sideshow.
---willies out.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
About CARS 4
More of the true stories from Fuckno CA. This one is about how I demolished me and my bud's awesome ride during a buzzed out exhibition of skill, bravery, and being a teenage asshole.
The city of Fuckno did have its attributes. When there was the ten months of sunshine, it was always glorious, every day. The weatherman had good job security. In the rest of the world, one must be correct about the forecast at least fifty-one percent of the time. But in Fuckno, he was correct almost one hundred percent of the time.
“Tomorrow, and the week ahead, sunny, but with temps reaching into the nineties. A cool spell.”
He could have recorded it and simply hit replay each night.
Streets were lined with palm trees, the desert always gave a beautiful sunset, and you could even sleep outside at night, with only a blanket to ward off the slight chill. With no major body of water around, the desert gives off its warmth from the radiant sun like a hooker sheds her mini.
There were no mosquitoes or black flies, nothing but a warm breeze from the south, the Santa Anna.
It was during such a night when I crashed the Ford LTD. Me and my bud had a whole year to enjoy her before I fucked her up. There are tales to tell about our many excursions out of Fuckno, to the coast, to the mountains, through the desert valleys in the central of CA. You see, Fuckno was and always will be a great place to leave. It is centrally located in CA, which will afford you equal access to all the other places you might like to check out.
I was 17, and had the whole world ahead of me, like a crisp Empire apple waiting for a bite.
_____________________________________________
The LTD’s engine rumbled softly in the moonlight. Kahle’s shirt strained at the buttons, her lacy pink bra beneath holding in all the goodness that a young man finds so invigorating and always almost out of reach. We parked at the side of the road up near the top of Watts Valley Road, an hour to the east of Fuckno, nose pointing up, with the blue light of the mid-summer moon blazing in through the windshield.
This was one of those perfect moments that never happen again, so you always remember them. I reached into the back seat and tore open the twelve pack of beer I’d pimped the day before from my favorite wino down at the 7-11 on Belmont, lower west side. I handed her one, and cracked the other. On the floor board below her feet was the ghetto blaster I’d borrowed from my older sister before we left Maine. You see, the LTD’s radio just didn’t cut it. I think that Salt And Peppa’s “Push It” was probably playing.
I mistakenly thought that this was the girl I’d one day ask to marry me, but it didn’t happen. Maybe for the better. I’ll have to tell you about the time I beat the shit out of her rapist, as well as the cross country car trip from Maine that we took, with a fucked up timing chip that I would never let my foot off of the accelerator lest the engine stop, and we made it to Saint Louis, Misery, in 36 hours of coffee fueled fighting.
But this night ended with me at the curb in front of her house on East Weldon by First. I kissed her big lips, and looked deeply into her wide-set brown eyes. She was pretty, but not glamorous, which suited me just fine. I was never one for high-maintenance chicks. Think of her as a Mary Ann, instead of a Ginger.
Watching her glance back at me as she walked to her front door, my stomach got those butterflies. I reached back for the eighth brewskie, chugged it down, and then sped off. I was on top of the world. I slammed the accelerator down, smiling as the wheels screeched even while doing thirty in a 20 MPH residential zone.
Feeling cocky, I waited for the last moment to stomp on the brakes at the stop sign before First Street, with goes North and South. At about fifty MPH, a big bitch like a Ford LTD will need a football field to stop, I think. I never got the chance to find out.
I entered traffic and spun the wheel to the right, in a vain attempt to merge. Luckily, I hit no other vehicle, and no one died. The gigantic metal street-light pole stopped this big beast from going forward for the rest of all time. It actually bent at the point where I struck, and became entangled in the engine compartment.
Steam roiled out and the street lamp pole was encased in the car’s bumper, up next to the engine mount. Without thinking, (I had an egg-sized welt on my forehead from the steering wheel, thank goodness I had ducked instead of eating steering wheel at the last moment) I slipped her into reverse, and backed her onto Weldon, setting her against the right curb. When I shut her off, the gave up the ghost. God love her.
Johnny Law came along, while I was checking out the damage. He never looked in the back seat. “You OK, son?”
I told him that I was driving along, reached down to change the station on the boom box, and when I looked up, there was a telephone pole coming at me.
He told me that I was lucky. And I was. I was alive, and no one had died. But now I had to pay my friend for his half of the car, and his mom threatened to sue, and the city wanted money for the repair to the streetlight pole.
To be continued next week…
The city of Fuckno did have its attributes. When there was the ten months of sunshine, it was always glorious, every day. The weatherman had good job security. In the rest of the world, one must be correct about the forecast at least fifty-one percent of the time. But in Fuckno, he was correct almost one hundred percent of the time.
“Tomorrow, and the week ahead, sunny, but with temps reaching into the nineties. A cool spell.”
He could have recorded it and simply hit replay each night.
Streets were lined with palm trees, the desert always gave a beautiful sunset, and you could even sleep outside at night, with only a blanket to ward off the slight chill. With no major body of water around, the desert gives off its warmth from the radiant sun like a hooker sheds her mini.
There were no mosquitoes or black flies, nothing but a warm breeze from the south, the Santa Anna.
It was during such a night when I crashed the Ford LTD. Me and my bud had a whole year to enjoy her before I fucked her up. There are tales to tell about our many excursions out of Fuckno, to the coast, to the mountains, through the desert valleys in the central of CA. You see, Fuckno was and always will be a great place to leave. It is centrally located in CA, which will afford you equal access to all the other places you might like to check out.
I was 17, and had the whole world ahead of me, like a crisp Empire apple waiting for a bite.
_____________________________________________
The LTD’s engine rumbled softly in the moonlight. Kahle’s shirt strained at the buttons, her lacy pink bra beneath holding in all the goodness that a young man finds so invigorating and always almost out of reach. We parked at the side of the road up near the top of Watts Valley Road, an hour to the east of Fuckno, nose pointing up, with the blue light of the mid-summer moon blazing in through the windshield.
This was one of those perfect moments that never happen again, so you always remember them. I reached into the back seat and tore open the twelve pack of beer I’d pimped the day before from my favorite wino down at the 7-11 on Belmont, lower west side. I handed her one, and cracked the other. On the floor board below her feet was the ghetto blaster I’d borrowed from my older sister before we left Maine. You see, the LTD’s radio just didn’t cut it. I think that Salt And Peppa’s “Push It” was probably playing.
I mistakenly thought that this was the girl I’d one day ask to marry me, but it didn’t happen. Maybe for the better. I’ll have to tell you about the time I beat the shit out of her rapist, as well as the cross country car trip from Maine that we took, with a fucked up timing chip that I would never let my foot off of the accelerator lest the engine stop, and we made it to Saint Louis, Misery, in 36 hours of coffee fueled fighting.
But this night ended with me at the curb in front of her house on East Weldon by First. I kissed her big lips, and looked deeply into her wide-set brown eyes. She was pretty, but not glamorous, which suited me just fine. I was never one for high-maintenance chicks. Think of her as a Mary Ann, instead of a Ginger.
Watching her glance back at me as she walked to her front door, my stomach got those butterflies. I reached back for the eighth brewskie, chugged it down, and then sped off. I was on top of the world. I slammed the accelerator down, smiling as the wheels screeched even while doing thirty in a 20 MPH residential zone.
Feeling cocky, I waited for the last moment to stomp on the brakes at the stop sign before First Street, with goes North and South. At about fifty MPH, a big bitch like a Ford LTD will need a football field to stop, I think. I never got the chance to find out.
I entered traffic and spun the wheel to the right, in a vain attempt to merge. Luckily, I hit no other vehicle, and no one died. The gigantic metal street-light pole stopped this big beast from going forward for the rest of all time. It actually bent at the point where I struck, and became entangled in the engine compartment.
Steam roiled out and the street lamp pole was encased in the car’s bumper, up next to the engine mount. Without thinking, (I had an egg-sized welt on my forehead from the steering wheel, thank goodness I had ducked instead of eating steering wheel at the last moment) I slipped her into reverse, and backed her onto Weldon, setting her against the right curb. When I shut her off, the gave up the ghost. God love her.
Johnny Law came along, while I was checking out the damage. He never looked in the back seat. “You OK, son?”
I told him that I was driving along, reached down to change the station on the boom box, and when I looked up, there was a telephone pole coming at me.
He told me that I was lucky. And I was. I was alive, and no one had died. But now I had to pay my friend for his half of the car, and his mom threatened to sue, and the city wanted money for the repair to the streetlight pole.
To be continued next week…
Friday, January 1, 2010
Best of TDC work in progress
What an excellent time-line of TDC's illustrious history constructed by the Humongously Engorged Hoot. Nice big column you got there, bro.
You, TDC Enjoyer, simply must take a nibble of this behemoth, if you haven't already.
When I think of how the Mighty TDC came into existence during this past decade, I shiver. You see, if not for a series of fortuitous (for us) events, this community might not ever have been conceived. Where would we be without the Mighty TDC?
When TDC was first invented in 2002, Peter Sachs had the curious yet wonderful foresight to also create a forum for readers to give their own opinions on everything and anything, as well as to post their own interesting internet finds. This is now copied everywhere, but TDC is the original.
Our Mighty TDC owner and operator Rich Fowler, (Bossman, or Mastaw, if you prefer) took this idea and evolved it into one of the greatest outposts of free speech in the whole etherworld. He leads by example, not by prodding. His stories of his life are true, and they are quite engaging. One simply cannot make that kind of stuff up.
The TDC online community is the oldest continuously active Blog in the entire world. It is not a site constructed for a product or company, nor is it used to generate funds or try to sell you anything. This is simply a living example of the original concept for why this usernet/web/tubes things was constructed, which was based on these three things:
Free news content.
Free user content.
Free Speech.
These are important concepts that you witness on the front page of the Mighty TDC, but this concept necessitates the inclusion of You, the Viewer, as Active Participant. And that is why the TDC Forums were constructed. The forums are the breaking down of the Fourth Wall, the one that separates audience from actors.
Here are some excerpts, a few of the best of the TDC Forums. Richie has given you a rocking Best Of The Internet column, Hoot has compiled an illustrious history of the TDC timeline, and now, for trifecta, a small compilation of the best of the TDC Community, intended to lure you in.
The Mighty TDC is a community of all kinds of folks. We have the brainiacs, the smart-asses, the good ole souls, the nerds and geeks, and then some trolls we like to pick on and roll for easy change, and of course, normal folks like you and, errm, well, someone not like me, your TDC bud willies.
The following are some examples of what in thee hell I am talking about. These excerpts have been constructed with the deft handiness two TDC Forum members:
Sirchief, who has a dampening effect on the females of TDC. Thank you, Sir, for your help here. You dampen the TDC ladies quite well, you handsome bastuhd.
FastCast, our excellent Forum Moderator who will set you straight, prop you up in the right place, and gently guide you in to the correct thread with his Fly muthafuckin Rod of icy, hard adamantium. Don’t fuck with The FastCast, mistah.
Now would be a good time to get your attitude adjusted. Or altitude. Whatever it takes.
Here are the Best Of the TDC Forums, constructed by these two men. The reason for this Blog here, today, is because these men have taken the time to compile their favorites during their time in our Mighty TDC Forums.
And I am never one to steal thunder from another. I only serve to promote this TDC, and to elevate those who contribute to it. Well, also to try to give you "the willies."
But this is not about me. This is about us.
Sirchief links:
Last post to win, props to chico for starting that mess!
Classic McFly
Ah fuck it!
Howie Stern
Richie goes Metro!
Sharon has a baby!
Blue Balls anyone?
How about a punch to the Vagina?
A good discussion on schooling
Which way does “it” bend?
No Porn? What?
Could you live without your car for a week?
Richie gets A LOT of email. Some good, some not so good
A few Richie rant’s.
A few Richie moral situations.
From the Bossman Richie:
Where the hell is Jambo?
Leandroc and Jambo!!! (his exclamation points, not mine) busted on the Bossman.
Now pay attention, FastCast speaks eloquently, but his words are few, well chosen, and adept. Each of the following sentences are densely packed with links.
FastCast’s finds, used without his permission. But he's a good guy, if you have balls of steel.
And, for the last tidbit, some actual literature from a member of TDC.
Jambo!!! wrote:
I do not like you, Vitamatt
I do not like your "Cat In Hat"
I do not like my answers pat
I do not like you Vitamatt.
I do not like "Cally-fawn-I-A"
I won't listen to what you say.
I do not like those married gays
I do not like "Cally-fawn-I-A"
I do not like herbs holistic
Shamen with bones or potions mystic
Cancer won't be cured by tea
You and I will disagree….
______________________________________
Now if you care to, why not take a peek into the forums of this stately site? Don't be left standing outside in the freezing cold.
This just in from TDC citizen JonM. He contributes quite well in the forums, as you can do, if you'd like.
Thank you for checking out the Mighty TDC whenever you get the chance. Without you, there is no reason for our existence.
It would be just a coupla of nuts hanging around. I'd get sick of that, wouldn't you?
Tomorrow with be another installment of the CARS True Story Series, Numba 4, plus links to things and pron and stuff. Gotta love cheesecake. Yum.
God Help You.
God Help Us All.
---willies out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)