Predator Press
[LOBO]
Since I’ve finally given up endlessly fiddle-f*cking with “Beta” Blogger’s busted crap and completely abandoned all hope of ever getting my site back on Google and Yahoo, I have concentrated efforts on squeaking out posts ever so often while simultaneously researching out potential new hosts.
With my job going well, my love-life "in tune", and my creative efforts, well, eh, 'adequate', somehow it all just highlights the only thing wrong even more; all those years of work to build traffic to a site --once 100 unique hits a day— were pissed away by a bunch of greedy, short-sighted incompetent hacks in a lab.
And it turns out this stuff doesn’t work right before you do anything to it … I mean come on; what kind of a blog site corrupts photo uploads that provide fatal errors and make your site uncrawlable? Or doesn’t let you put external links in the main fields? Or train wrecks if two different users use have logged in from the same computer?
This site, broken, will stay broken. And from the wreckage, I will rebuild it with and despite these inept tools, if only to create the most well-read and embarrassing eyesore to Blogger’s potential advertisers, clients, and members. I will somehow drive readers here again and again, and insidiously underline the dissatisfaction through the fractured lens of Blogger’s programming “triumph”.
From here on out, Predator Press, on Blogger or not, shall be a veritable showcase of Beta Blogger’s technological boobery.
But why stop at Blogger?
Wednesday
Tuesday
Love Letters
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Approaching 30,000 hits already!
To tell the truth, when we hit 10,000 we threw a party.
30,000 is going to be like wild, primal lovemaking … the kind where your lover says, “Omygod where did that come from?”, and responds with even more savage ferocity. And as adrenaline amplifies and intensifies the sound of your wet flesh and muscle smacking powerfully together, you are driven far beyond the ‘point of return’; dragging up your exhausted and sated love up by fistfuls of hair, you hold the back of the neck while releasing …
… Or maybe it'll be more like that "permanent marker smell". You know, when you just take the cap off? And people ask you why your nostril is green for days?
I can't decide.
[LOBO]
Approaching 30,000 hits already!
To tell the truth, when we hit 10,000 we threw a party.
30,000 is going to be like wild, primal lovemaking … the kind where your lover says, “Omygod where did that come from?”, and responds with even more savage ferocity. And as adrenaline amplifies and intensifies the sound of your wet flesh and muscle smacking powerfully together, you are driven far beyond the ‘point of return’; dragging up your exhausted and sated love up by fistfuls of hair, you hold the back of the neck while releasing …
… Or maybe it'll be more like that "permanent marker smell". You know, when you just take the cap off? And people ask you why your nostril is green for days?
I can't decide.
Monday
LOBO, PREGNANT, SOON TO WED BABS
Predator Press
HUNDREDS OF WOMEN ACROSS GLOBE -AND AROUND IT TOO- SPONTANEOUSLY BURST INTO UNCONTROLLED TEARS AT SURPRISE ENGAGEMENT
--or maybe "Pollen Index", explain scientific crackpots
"Hell yeah, I was surprised," says innocent bystander LOBO. "But all the signs were there if you think about it: the inexplicable gaining of weight, the magnetic pull of Desperate Housewives episodes, the strange transformation into a bitchy, insufferable, insatiable fatass ... "
Stephen Grant Shocking Photo-Shoot Transcript!
[LOBO]
Predator Press
C'mon Steph --can I call you Steph? Gimme something wild. Something crazy. You're a wild animal ... a savage, crazy animal!
You know what? This isn't working. Steph, it's like you're not even trying. Your wife told us how you would puss out like this ......
Predator Press
C'mon Steph --can I call you Steph? Gimme something wild. Something crazy. You're a wild animal ... a savage, crazy animal!
You know what? This isn't working. Steph, it's like you're not even trying. Your wife told us how you would puss out like this ......
Sunday
pi
Predator Press
[LOBO]
“Ethan,” I says. “I quit.”
“You quit what?”
“I quit Hawley Enterprises.”
“You quit doing what exactly?”
“Well, I was hoping you could help me out with that. I’m having a lot of trouble with my ‘Letter of Resignation’.
“What brought this on?” says Ethan.
“I’ve decided I want to be a sheepherder.”
“A sheepherder.”
“Think about it. The sheep is not a very fast animal.”
“Do tell.”
“Yeah. I figure I could virtually watch the little bastards disappear over the horizon, and still catch 'em in a jeep like an hour later.”
“Possibly,” says Ethan, scratching his chin. “But you would have to protect the sheep from predators too.”
“Oh please,” I says. “The only other animals I ever see around sheep are cows, and cows are pussies. My sheep will be combat-trained, hardened bad-asses.”
I drift off for a second.
My sheep will have leather jackets.
“What do you think ‘Sheepherder’ pays?”, asks Ethan.
“$40-$60 thousand a year according to this Devry University brochure. Next semester –Satellite Tracking, GPS and Radio starts in three weeks.”
“Really?”
“It ends in four.”
[LOBO]
“Ethan,” I says. “I quit.”
“You quit what?”
“I quit Hawley Enterprises.”
“You quit doing what exactly?”
“Well, I was hoping you could help me out with that. I’m having a lot of trouble with my ‘Letter of Resignation’.
“What brought this on?” says Ethan.
“I’ve decided I want to be a sheepherder.”
“A sheepherder.”
“Think about it. The sheep is not a very fast animal.”
“Do tell.”
“Yeah. I figure I could virtually watch the little bastards disappear over the horizon, and still catch 'em in a jeep like an hour later.”
“Possibly,” says Ethan, scratching his chin. “But you would have to protect the sheep from predators too.”
“Oh please,” I says. “The only other animals I ever see around sheep are cows, and cows are pussies. My sheep will be combat-trained, hardened bad-asses.”
I drift off for a second.
My sheep will have leather jackets.
“What do you think ‘Sheepherder’ pays?”, asks Ethan.
“$40-$60 thousand a year according to this Devry University brochure. Next semester –Satellite Tracking, GPS and Radio starts in three weeks.”
“Really?”
“It ends in four.”
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