Predator Press
[LOBO]
I was stunned too. But I kept thinking How did Popper know we were onto him?
Well, it turns out it had nothing to do with us whatsoever, and that's exactly what we want George Lindsey to think right now.
You see, if you play "Run-Around" backwards, you can here Popper clearly discussing his intentions:
VOICE: “[inaudible] … your bottled water sir. The truck … and the canned goods [inaudible] all gone … “
Popper: “I’ve had it with those D-O-T cocksuckers fucking up my ‘Master Plan’!"
VOICE: “Your instructions, Lord Popper?”
Popper: ”There is nothing we can do, unless there’s a tidal wave or an earthquake. Or maybe an eclipse.”
VOICE: "Y-yes, sir."
Popper: "I'm very disappointed, Number Two."
VOICE: "I know sir."
Popper: "This failure is unacceptable. What if there was a tsunami or a forest fire today? We would be completely unprepared."
VOICE: "Yes my Lord."
Popper: "Number Three, are you there?"
NEW VOICE: "Yes, Lord Popper."
Popper: "You are my new Number Two. Now show that maggot how Lord Popper deals with failures."
[gunshot, then chorus]
Thursday
Press Release:
Predator Press
The plan to go beat up John Popper and steal all his stuff in the event of a Natural Disaster has been officially scrubbed until further notice due to developing information.
We’re thinking maybe George "Goober" Lindsey from The Andy Griffith Show now.
Wednesday
From Hell's Heart
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?
[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?
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
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