Coffin Joe Would Like to be Added as One of Your Friends!
When I lived in Michigan I would occasionally run with a fella known as Johnny Refund. He was a hoot and a half, and the sort of archivist who has a million great movies and albums at his fingertips. And he was trying to describe a Coffin Joe movie to some of us once, where Coffin Joe gets taken down to Hell for more or less being a wild guy, and the Devil is after him but since Coffin Joe is an atheist the Devil's got no power over him. Joe keeps saying "I don't believe in you!" Now I've never seen the movie, but Johnny Refund's impression of Coffin Joe's line has entered my personal lexicon as an entirely appropriate thing to say in certain situations, if only anybody else knew what I was on about.
Now almost every day I get another message from MySpace-- I made a profile for Infant Tyrone years ago, and neglected entirely to do anything with it. We hates it. But anyhoo, I keep getting these messages from exotically named women who apparently want to be my friends. The first couple times I logged on and went to look at the woman's site, only to discover that it's just one more source of spam on the net.
So now when I see them I don't even bother to check-- I delete them without reading. However, can you guess what I say each time I hit that "Report as Spam" button...?
In a couple hours I'll be leaping into Working-Vacation-Land, shuddering across the rails from the shores of Lake Michigan to the Puget Sound, with a quick diversion to visit the mighty Miss-I-sip of my youth. 'd like to thank the writer's strike for this opportunity, 'cause if I knew there would be a new "Carpoolers" tomorrow, I'd skip the trip and do an assplant on the couch. I'm singing extra-stupid songs to the cats this morning, 'cause I'll miss them so very much. If Amtrak allowed cats and had a wireless signal, I'd live on it like those people who live in shopping malls.
Now almost every day I get another message from MySpace-- I made a profile for Infant Tyrone years ago, and neglected entirely to do anything with it. We hates it. But anyhoo, I keep getting these messages from exotically named women who apparently want to be my friends. The first couple times I logged on and went to look at the woman's site, only to discover that it's just one more source of spam on the net.
So now when I see them I don't even bother to check-- I delete them without reading. However, can you guess what I say each time I hit that "Report as Spam" button...?
In a couple hours I'll be leaping into Working-Vacation-Land, shuddering across the rails from the shores of Lake Michigan to the Puget Sound, with a quick diversion to visit the mighty Miss-I-sip of my youth. 'd like to thank the writer's strike for this opportunity, 'cause if I knew there would be a new "Carpoolers" tomorrow, I'd skip the trip and do an assplant on the couch. I'm singing extra-stupid songs to the cats this morning, 'cause I'll miss them so very much. If Amtrak allowed cats and had a wireless signal, I'd live on it like those people who live in shopping malls.