We’ve been busted.
November 6, 2004
Well, now that the election is over, I suppose I should remove the two campaign buttons on the sidebar. I don’t want them to become the cyber-equivalent of a faded, old bumper sticker from a campaign long ago concluded.
However, if you recall the pain I experienced getting the first button up there and functioning, you know why I quake with fear at the thought of again tangling ass with Mr. Template. My bowels loosen each time that blast of HTML lights up on my screen.
I actually hear it mocking me for my incompetence.
Mr. Template: “Come on, Jimbo. You want a piece of me? Let’s see what you got.”
Mr. Template: “Oooohhh, tough guy. I see you’re pasting a copy of me into a Word document. You don’t have a hair on your ass if you don’t just dive in and start changing shit, you sissy boy.”
Mr. Template: “Waddya gonna do now? Print it out and study it as if you were planning a freakin’ moon shot? You are pathetic.”
Mr. Template: “Let’s go Chickie Chickie. It’s easy. A little “div class” here, a little “div class” there, and some well-place quotation marks. It’s a snap for anybody who’s not a chicken shit like you. Just don’t drop your guard, or I’ll turn this place into something that looks like the Rosetta Stone.”
Me: “Will you shut the hell up! I’m trying to concentrate here.”
Mr. Template: “Concentrate all you want, dipshit. You got nuthin’.”
Me: “Screw you. I’m gonna do this tomorrow.”
Mr. Template: “Works every time.”
I just returned from having spent a couple hours in Costco along with appeared to half population of the state of New Jersey. Costco on Saturdays is roughly equivalent to the 7th or 8th circle of Dante’s Inferno.
I could really use this right about now.