Whattayaknow!

It seems that the Googloids will still let me post on my blog, for a little while, but they're gonna turn that off soon, so I'll make hay while the sun shines, so to speak.

Dang! I wish I had something to say!

Owhell, the kitties seem mostly happy, and I'm not dead, yet.

Blogger Says I Only Get To Do This Once,

so here's my last post in "Old Blogger", which worked well enough for me in the past. Owhell, I reckon it's worth every penny I pay for it.

The redoubtable Miss B. (Ballastexistenz) has put me in a list of autistic male bloggers. I'm still not sure if I R 1 or not, but if not, I'm close, or, uh, ah, "borderline." Anyway, I feel honored by her expressing that opinion of me.

Oh, to get back on topic:

I do think that Google is evil, 'specially considering their latest sweetheart deal with a local govt. in North Carolina.

Another Murdered Kid

The Autistic Bitch from Hell is on the case.

Words that come to mind are:

revolting

odious

creepy

criminal

loathesome

egregious

evil

inflammatory

pitiable

shameful, and

disgusting.


I believe one of the Denizennes at Castle Argghhh! may have already mentioned this.

A Warning About Some Possible Prenatal Eugenicide

The Autistic Bitch from Hell has some right serious remarks, which I commend to y'alls' attention.

OK, Boq,

Thanks for the Latin lesson. Took me a while to appreciate yer indirect devious subtleness, there. Obvious to everyone else, of course. Ppffthbbth!

Autistic Pride Day...

is kind of a disappointment, here. I intended to celebrate in an appropriate way, by unplugging the land-line phone and turning off the cellphones (I disconnected the doorbell back in November of last year.) while reading a nice SF novel and drinking beer.

The cat changed my plans by asking me to go next door, where I saw that the former neighbors, who've just moved out, left their trampoline in the back yard. Woot Hoot, I thought, free trampoline time, on Autistic Pride Day, to boot!

Not so fast, Grasshopper! The annoying DYs in the McMansion behind the neighbor's place are having a pool party, with loud bad amplified music, and loud bad amplified shouting by the presumed owner of the place.

I hate yankees. They are loud, and rude, and overbearing assholes. If my great-granddaddies had had kalashnikovs, I might not have had to put up with my rude neighbors.

Hey! In vinas veritas! (I wrote *vinas* because I don't know the Latin for beer

Cute Little Toddler, Using Up Oxygen

...or so her mother seemed to think. Mom solved that problem with a plastic bag over the kid's head.

To understand what I'm writing about here, please have a look at what The Diva has to say.

R.i.p, Katie.