hipster stat cats mucating on my blogger

click for FB covers

Skimming a user forum for quick info and crack up at the line "I've been tragically obsessed with my stats." The discussion is over facebook having their own internal search engine and whether their bots should be able to access links sent through inbox or private message. That's right, guys, I can see when you hit from private facebook messaging. (People who've seen the pre-Pinky me on facebook are cracking up, I'm sure. You can tighten all the privacy bolts you want on facebook, I'm sorry, it's not private.)

But don't worry! Any time you (my readers) are logged into facebook or google or AOL browser (or something similar), I only see your bot butlers grabbing thumbnail previews for you. All I see from facebook when it's private is Palo Alto or Menlo Park. So it's cool. Likewise, much of Google and AOL show up as Florida, anything coming through translate.google shows up as Mountain View, and I can easily see the way my Verizon bounces my phone around from state to state. Stuff like this goes on all the time. Feb 2, 2015 - "Some analysts expected Yahoo to fall in January as a result of Firefox users switching back to Google," Well, according to my blogger stats, Firefox is the top browser coming in on Pinky at a whopping 60%, and I know it's not me piddling on my blog because I don't have Firefox.

This one is actually called 'Psychedelic Hipster Cat'
it looks like acid porn cat to me
but who am I to argue

I was actually looking up viruses and flu shots. I probably should've told my doctor I thought I had a cold before I got one, but I had no fever and wanted to get it out of the way. Not sure what's affecting what, but that's a great way to add a little enthusiasm to a cold. My ears have exploded, my sinus feels torched, my tongue swears it wasn't out all night playing ninja (yes, my tongue actually hurts). I mean, thank goodness for throat spray, plus I had to double back up on the zyrtec just to control the weird zealous slime production on my mouth. Super gleek, at your service. When I talk I spit, and we know it's germ-laden, so if it hits you in the eye and your eyeball mutates, I'll be all Hey, there's no law against premeditated talking to someone. If they throw me in jail anyway, my first phone call will be "Jeanne, I love you, even though you f#@ked my wife." That quote comes just before a mimed television explosion, but right now that's me pouring coffee on a cold virus addled brain. Pretty sure there should be a hyphen in there. Cold virus-addled brain. Awkward.

That's kind of what happened to that love letter post yesterday. It started out all gooey and mushy but I'd been out to a natural foods store in Springfield

and crazy Walmart traffic in Ozark after that, all while sporting this junky cold on top of a flu shot, and once my ears exploded I realized I'm pretty sure I'm not entirely sane this week. (Kind of echo-y self assessment reverb there.) I have no idea why belly buttons, honest. You crazy nutters on the webs are messed up and totally distracted me and infested my love letter. I probably killed a few readers with that one.

Today. Plan. I need some semblance of a plan. Besides filling blogger up with mucated nonsense. That's my new word. Mutated + mucous = mucated. I bet MrShuggoth would like that. He's my fave slime on twitter. I have stuff out to make a pot of chili for @bonenado. He'll be thrilled, he's been stuck eating tuna last couple days. I stop cooking when my ears explode. I should probably continue with my excavation efforts. Burning down Hot Topic, burninating the countryside, whatever it takes. I get control back or there will be no Christmas.

Pavlov's obviously hipster cat- click for panel

And that's important because cute little ninja Batman looking for a punkin stuff is cute.

And cute little action Bunny blur insisting on helping is cute.