I have to ask, who the heck did Pete Zeldman’s site? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Jeffrey. I was a bit disappointed. Pete is an amazing and talented drummer, but nothing about the site says that. There’s great stuff there, but it just turns me off. It could be so much better. I mean damn, I would be happy to redo the whole thing for free, just so it was a more pleasant experience. I even wanted to buy CDs, and stuff, but they don’t take credit cards yet!

Hmm, I think I’m being too harsh. Sorry Pete. Good luck! I’m still gonna be visiting often.

Well, I’ve joined up with the blogging staff over at julesasner.com (thanks Biz and Jules!). It’s an entertainment news based blog. Should be fun.

If you don’t get out much, Jules Asner is the co-host of E! News Daily along with Steve Kmetko. She was previously the host of E’s Wild On, which I watch religiously.

If you’ve never had one of the little cake squares from NE-MO’s Bakery Shop you don’t know what you’re missing. The chocolate cake alone will put you in a sugar coma, and leave you drooling before you even finish it. These wonderful confectionary tremors can usually be found in nearly any all night gas station that sells food and beverages.

I needed a big sugar fix and scrambled to the nearset all nighter.
I was looking for a bag of Hershey’s Kisses actually, when I espied the NE-MO display. They even have little Hershey’s kisses looking things on the label. I guess that’s to tell you it’s nothing but chocolate. “PERFECT!” went through my head, and I grabbed 2 and a cup of coffee and sprinted to the counter.

You have to be careful removing the plastic wrapping on these things. They’re wrapped up tighter than Christina Aguilera at an awards show and have been manhandled, squashed, and had more things stacked on them than Madonna, so getting it out of the plastic unharmed is tricky business.

Needless to say I have mastered the art of unwrapping them. That and bra straps, although ththe latter talent doesn’t get much use lately. But either one brings me a boundless joy when it’s done (or undone) and I can survey my work.

There’s no holding the cake without making a mess, and biting into it without getting frosting on your face is nigh on impossible. And putting it down to do anything else is worthless because your fingers are a mess. So the only thing to do is keep taking bites until it’s gone. And then that’s when the nightmarish sugar headache begins.

It’s just a slight dizzy feeling at first. And I’m usually compelled to start reading the label to see if there is something in this cake-from-hell that is making me feel like this. Not like I haven’t read it thousands of times already, but maybe there’s some new ingredient somewhere. First ingredient—SUGAR. If you don’t know this, ingredients are usually listed by how much is used in the product. By now I’m quite certain this cake is 90% sugar and the work of the devil. I scan the label some more. I realize that NE-MO backwards is OMEN. Coincidence??? I think not. The more I think about it, the more this fuzzy idea comes into focus. NE-MO’s Bakery Products are nothing more than drugs, and Satan is the pusher.

Anybody got an Advil?

Grammy Night! Grammy Night! Grammy Night! Grammy Night! Grammy Night!

Do I really care? Umm, nope.

Straying from his celebrated 2 pixel border for the first time (or at least the first time since I have have been playing along at home) in his Glamorous Life, Jeffrey has once again whimsically and eloquently shown us the true nature of the Web.

The pundits, the pros, the A-list and those in the know have a difficult time coming together on what should be seen as the most basic of topics. I’m not sure if he really wished to slip in the subtle subtext that sometimes they seem to be acting like children, but it could just be a subconcious freudian slip on his part. What the story says to me, is that the web has split into factions and seems more about me, me, me, and mine, mine, mine, than we, we, we…or was that just wee-wee (no one in the story seems to raise their hand to go to the bathroom). And that even though a community (the school) attitude is prevalent, everyone is more worried about their own front yard than the good of the village. They all make their points but no one answers the question put before them. It also seems to be saying that while there is diversity on the Web, and well there should be, there is a fundamental point missing. A common understanding of what HTML is, what its limitations are, and why it’s still around.

While it is a satyrical and hysterical romp through only a single facet of these illustrious Web characters, I am left with a somewhat fractured faith in where it’s all headed, and wondering about 2 characters. Conspicuously absent from the class is Jeffrey Zeldman himself, and I’m wondering why? He’s obviously the teachers pet in the story, as evidened by little Lance’s outburst about credit. And who the hell is Miss Prendergast? Is she single? And why can’t she control those children?

Shades of Hot for Teacher.

Oh My God! It’s all too funny.

[Postscript: Later in the day I found the link to this was broken. I had the foresight (if you can call it that) to save the thing locally. I did not, nor am I claiming to have created it. I am now simply hosting it because I want to preserve it. Why I find it so funny is beyond me. I just do.]

• The History
• The Thread
• The Master

You may not find it funny, but you may at least understand it all now.

I have officially seen it all. Beer, NASCAR, and weapons. Doctorgrosz is truly blurring the lines. I won’t be able to sleep now. Thank you so much.

>All your base are belong to us—Some poor fool actually registered the name, and did nothing more than frame his geocities page on it. Truly lame.

Power outages here left me stranded and searching for batteries and candles. It’s amazing how easily the digital world comes crashing down with the flick of a switch. I need some sort of backup script. Maybe something like:

if (!power.electricity) { document.write("HELP" + "!!!" + " 911"); }

Of course that means I would have to write some sort of electricity sniffer. Dammit!!!

Just Do It! Now you really can be like Mike.