Almost a Genius...

Now that I am all compooter saavy,
I look back at how internetally illiterate I was in the infancy of my bloginess.
Thanks to all of you who have taught me the lingo of modern day e-communications, I am now much better off.

6 months ago I thought blog was the neanderthal with the bone in his lip that lives two huts down and over 1 cave. Now I know that a blog is a personal web-site where you can write out your feelings on different topics and where seemingly normal people, who usually hate being in traffic, become obsessed with being 'stumbled' or 'hit'. (Don't quote me on this.)

I had never heard the term entrecard before I mastred the intrenet. It sounds like something you'd swipe to get into the top-secret alien spacecraft lab. Best I can figure it's a worthless website giveaway. Given away to anyone who leaves you a comment, or writes the goofy caption for that picture you posted of your uncle sittin on Santas lap wearing nothin but a jockstrap and a pirate hat. (I could still be wrong on this one though.)

I used to think a web-host was some super intelligent geeky life form who sat in the darkness of anonimity. Like the bank offer guy on Deal or No Deal. His job was to make you feel like a jackass while he fixes your computer porn virus.
I now realize that a web-host is a super intelligent geeky company, which sits in the darkness of anonimity, and charges you ten bucks a month to come up with new and exciting ways to lose your postings and to keep track of how many times a google search for "gorilla pelican love" led to a hit on your site. ( I may be a tad off on this one too)

I'm still kinda in the dark about a meme. It's either what Arnold Horshacks little known sister yells out when she knows the answer, or some kind of chain letter you act like you didn't want, but secretly you enjoy being 'tagged' without being touched by some perv.

I still don't know what a blogroll is, or how to do it. The guy at the bakery didn't know and I haven't heard back from the National Lumberjack competition. So when I get the info, I'll add all of you.

For more stuff I can't do, click here. Or even better, click here.

Give it a second.
It'll come to you.

The Snowpimp

A Snowpimp just chillin, from back in the 'hood,
Three buttons, no shirt, green fur hat lookin good.

It's cold where he comes from, the snow gets real deep,

Too cold for real bitches, all his ho's was sheep.

The Gingerbread man, waits 'til dark to start creepin,

Thinks he's gettin a freebie, while Snowpimp is sleepin. A cat with no arms, had heard the assail,

He yowled out for help, (and no, that's his tail)

The G-mans been busted, he attacks on the double,

But my mans got no hands, so this could be trouble.

Aaah but Snowpimp stays clean, from his top to his bottom,
He don't sweat this punk, 'cause Blue-Pac mans got 'em.


Blue-pac and Snowpimp, still ticked from the fight,
Torched g-mans crib, in the darkest of night.


The thing to have learned, friends you must learn it quick,
My kids are great artists, and their daddy is sick.

Pimpin the funny at http://humor-blogs.com/