Saturday, July 11, 2009

I've Got A Widget In My Bloggit

This post is based on the book by Dr. Seuss, "I've Got A Wocket In My Pocket."

Did you ever have the feeling that there's a Swallower
In your widget called Followers?
Sometimes Followers disappear from your blog.
Is it unsubscribers or does Blogger scarf them up?
(I think it's Blogger. She can be a booger sometimes.)

Look! Look! Is that an LOL/Hater Script in my
HTML/Java Script (widget)?
Many Bloggers make you think or laugh or smile,
And then all of a sudden one day they sadly expire.
Perhaps they didn't realize how fun they were and wild,
Or maybe they hate feeling blog uninspired.

But sometimes that widget called Text?
Why, it keeps trying to bring up S.E.X!
I'll have none of that, no siree.
Cause, my blog is certified P-oh-G-ee,
So take that hanky panky away,
Or I'll take you by the ear
And give you a swift kick to the rear.

Have you had any Seizures in your Picture (widget)?
Or have a Kaleidoscope suddenly appear in your Slideshow (widget)?
Not me, no way, no how. And a big ole' nuh-uh, not going there.
Cause, I happen to be 'puter illiterate,
And frankly, my dear; sometimes, I just don't care.

And look at the Hoglist in my Blog List,
And is that a Clique List inside my Link List?
So many bloggers to read and enjoy
I laugh and smile, til I'm reminded of my 'rhoids.

Have you ever felt like Weeds are in your Feed (widget)?
And how can potential readers out there read
Let alone find your little ole' blippity blog,
In the folds and corners of the world wide web-bog.

And look at those Hives in my Blog Archive.
With spiders weaving cobwebs in my posts?
Do blog readers even know
When my blog began and how it has grown?

Despite my quirky life and quirky imagination,
There be no Fables in my Labels (widget),
And one of the best sources of my blog inspiration?
Is my good ole' basic cable telly-vision.

Look at how my blog got better,
Because of my beautiful Page Header.
I don't care, if you believe it or not.
But this is the kind of blog, that I got.
And no matter how hard you might try,
I will not be blog-shut-up!

Written and edited by Dr. Quirkyloon



Now go and get some widgets and enjoy your blog today.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Quirky Q's Sans A's

Is there a reason why Spanish nuts are always singled out? Is our hatred of illegal Mexicans in the U.S. spilling over into the nut world? Can't we all just be nuts without alluding to the differences between cashews and almonds, macadamias and pecans, etc., etc., etc? Can't we focus on the positive that all nuts are delicious to the taste and somewhat healthy for the body. Yes, even the Spanish nuts. Take pity on the nuts, especially our Hermana nuts.

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When I see all the pencils lined up at the stores, I go out and caress a tree. I hope it feels my sympathy that I acknowledge and appreciate that it's sister tree was cut, destroyed, and mutilated, so it could serve me as a writing utensil. But ofttimes when I reach out for the tree touch, I get a sliver in my finger. And it hurts for many hours. Hateful trees.

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It's always best to carry a switchblade in your purse, so when E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial approaches you and extends his finger out to you? You can slice it right off. There, there now that's better. Extra Terrestrials have proven themselves to be a bigger nuisance than rats. It would be better if they stayed on their planets and we will stay on ours. Yes, it is time for decisive and slice-ive action, for it is better to be safe than sorry. Plus, you just never know where that finger has been.

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This portion of our program has been brought to you by Children of the Corn Nibblers. Found in your grocer's frozen food section. Buy some today!

Thank-you for tuning into Quirky Q's Sans A's. Come back next week, when Quirky questions and ponders "Buy Dentures" or "Go Gummy."


Thursday, July 9, 2009

Paranoid

(Another MamaKat at Mama's Losin' It inspired post.)

I grew up an only child.

I can see you all thinking, "well that explains a few things about Quirky."

Maybe it does, or maybe it doesn't.

And maybe because I didn't have siblings to set me straight or to tease me mercilessly, I have ended up being paranoid about a lot certain things.

I already mentioned one paranoia at my recent MWOB post about my dilly dallying outings on the beach at La Jolla. Remember my one red beach bag? I clung to it for my very life. Of course, I trusted my beach buddy, Rosa, and for the most part I enjoyed our outings as long as the red beach bag stayed in view.

Okay, NO, I'm not trying to repost a post by reworking it and rewording it. But, I don't blame you for thinking that. (Does that sound paranoid?)

Anyhoo, my red beach bag was only the beginning of many Quirky Paranoias.

It seems as though being paranoid is as easy as breathing air for me. I was surprised as I grew older and into an adult (I use the term adult loosely) that most people don't share the same amount of paranoia.

I mean really it's almost absurd to admit some of the things I'm paranoid about, but since I've declared myself a full-fledged "Paranoi-er," I figured I would share a few with you.

(You are sooooo lucky!)

I'm paranoid about being seen in public. Sounds like I need therapy, no? Really, it's not that I'm an agoraphobic. I'm a "chataphobic." Never heard of that? It's about social chit-chat. I don't do the small chit chat very well when I run into people. I feel awkward and stressed that I need to say something funny or witty. And if their kids are with them? Double eek. I have to point out how cute they are or the shirt they're wearing is "adorable." Sometimes I can hear myself blabbering on and on and all I am thinking in my brain is: dang, I sound phony! And this is all in the name of chit-chat and being friendly and social. Then I leave in a hurry and forget half the items I went shopping for.

I just want to do my shopping in peace. Is that so wrong?

Another paranoia I have is forgetting to deodorize. I'm quite sure I never have, but this fear, that I might be smelly, literally, makes me sweat. And we know what sweat can lead to: an odoriferous aroma aka body odor (BO). Maybe it's because when I've had the "privilege" of smelling it on others, it is most difficult for me to mask the scented pain. My eyes start to water and a look of panic and fear envelopes my face. That scent is nasty with a capital NAST. I would never have made it in the cave man days when the natural "musky" odor was considered acceptable and even...sexy? Gah. Makes me want to puke. And because I am so paranoid, I've been known to carry a deodorant stick in my purse. Hey, you never know when you might be in dire need of a reapplication.

I just don't want to smell offensive. Is that so wrong?

And this leads me to another paranoia: being accused of shoplifting. Let the blog-record show that I have NEVER shoplifted. But because sometimes I do carry a deodorant stick around, I always worry that when I'm paying at the register, I will open my purse to get the cash out or my debit card and there will be the deodorant stick for the cashier to see. And then of course, a tap on the shoulder, a request to follow security, a fingerprinting, a mug shot and worst of all a Not Allowed To Shop Here sign with my face plastered on it. Surely you see how this could happen. But the shoplifting paranoia does not stop with just deodorant.

Have you ever shopped for a pair of earrings? So where do you put them until you are ready to pay? Carrying them in your hands is a good spot, until you have to go fishing in your purse for your ringing cell-phone. What is Mr. Security Camera seeing then? An open purse and a reaching hand with a pair of UNpurchased earrings in it.

Not good.

Let's say for the sake of argument, you have a basket or cart. Do you know how easy it is to overlook a small item like earrings and not pay for it? (Not that this has ever happened to me....*nervous giggle*) Okay, it almost happened once, but I caught it in time and boy howdy did I laugh and giggle nervously as I retrieved the item out of the basket AFTER I had paid for all other purchases. Then I made a big deal to the already suspicious cashier about almost forgetting to pay for the earrings. Gah! It makes me paranoid, indeed!

I just don't want to be a thief. Is that so wrong?

As you can see. I'm one paranoiac mess!

This list could go on and on.

But I'm paranoid that you would stop reading.

Is that so wrong?

Is it?

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