I know I’m beating the blog story like Chris Brown beats Rihanna, but I wanted to mention a pet peeve of mine.
Between yesterday and today, I’ve received a few dozen e-mails asking about the blog’s status. Most people remembered the main blog’s e-mail and naturally inquired. No problem there, as I’m happy to explain what happened that brings us to this site.
What is maddening, however, is that most of the e-mails finished like this:
1. What did you do?
2. How bad did you f**k up?
3. Who did you piss off?
It’s as if everyone thinks I’m a troublemaking asshole that contributed to his own blog’s demise.
Now, I guess you can say this entire thing is my fault. If you want to go that way, fine. But when an obscure photographer comes after you for a photo you posted three years ago, it’s hardly a forseeable situation. I deleted the photo and replaced it with another one. I would have deleted the post, but my server banned me almost immediately after it notified me of the issue. I cannot log into the site, let alone edit it.
So yes, you got me. I f**ked up by not expecting a copyright infringement claim for a photo I posted in 2009.
There hasn’t been this much alcohol and spandex in such close proximity since Bill Clinton’s inauguration.
At the 13th annual Speedo Santa Run, joggers took to the streets wearing almost nothing as they raced through Boston to raise money for children’s charities. Runners braved the brisk winter temperatures in little more than their underwear.
Started 12 years ago amongst five friends in a bar, the run has exploded into a holiday tradition with hundreds of participants raising more than $1 million for children’s charities.
They should put some of that money aside for the frostbite victims. This race would give the term “blue balls” an entirely different meaning.
Okay, here’s how we stand with reference to the main site.
Obviously, we’re still suspended at the old server – and a big frak you to them, by the way – but Jim is actively looking for a new host. He’s spending his Sunday off downloading our old files – all 24,000 of them – so we can make the move. I’ll be posting here in the interim, and it may be days – or weeks – until we’re back up at the old url. I’ll keep you advised.
Suffice to say, this is easily the worst issue I’ve ever had to deal with in seven and a half years of blogging. I don’t know how I’ll ever get my full audience back, and the daily hits went from 1,400 to 200. It’s been a lot like starting over from scratch.
That being said, this is home for now, and I’ll get back to the regular SYLG schedule starting tomorrow. I appreciate all of you who have sought me out, and for all of the nice messages when you realized I was still blogging.
Most especially, I want to thank Jim for all of the work he’s put into getting us back online. You may want to thank him, too, because without his expertise, this blog would be dead.
UPDATE: I just saw this on the blog dashboard. Apparently, a lot of people want to know what happened to the main site:
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It’s been a bad week, the main blog is still down, it’s my day off, and I’m exhausted. So, I give you this piece of photoshop brilliance from The Chive. Enjoy!
Note to wait staff: When you’re serving fat girls, you shouldn’t actually type “fat girls” on the receipt.
Christine Duran, Christina Huerta and Isabel Robles were having a good time at the Cameo Club Casino restaurant in Stockton but when they asked for the check they couldn’t believe their eyes.
I got the bill, and I was like, why does the receipt say, “fat girls?”‘ Duran told News 10.
The ladies quizzed their waiter when he returned to their table but he denied any involvement. He said that Jeff, whose name was on the receipt, must have typed the offensive slur into the computer as he was taking their order. But he said Jeff had gone for the night.
Yeah, Jeff left early so he could hit the gym before going home. *Hint, hint*
Philadelphia is currently in the middle of an economic crisis. Actually, to be more accurate, Philadelphia has been wallowing in an economic crisis for the past few decades. The crisis, like most crises, was brought about by the ineptitude of local Democrat politicians – who have run Philadelphia for 60+ years.
Combine this fiscal crisis with the crippling Obama economy, and you have the mother of all bankruptcies. So what’s a mayor to do? Well, if you’re Philadelphia Mayor Michael Nutter, you use the most popular choice in the Democrat playbook: raise taxes and utility rates.
The Philadelphia Water Department announced Friday that a 17.5 percent rate increase would be phased in beginning Jan. 1. When the last of three water and sewer rate hikes goes into effect July 1, 2014, the average customer’s monthly bill will have risen by $10 – or $120 a year – from current rates.
The Water Department in February proposed a four-year, 28.5 percent rate hike that would have raised the average bill by $196 a year over current rates.
Water Commissioner Howard Neukrug, who had the final say, called the settlement “a reasonable and thoughtful compromise.”
Actually, it is neither reasonable nor thoughtful. Water is a necessity, so people have no choice to accept the rate increases. If the city would go after the hundreds of people are delinquent on their water payments – and for that matter, their taxes – the rates wouldn’t need to increase. But the city, and Mayor Squidward, won’t shut off water service to deadbeats because he’s compassionate.
Say hello to my little friend: a cute Bogota police cadet that wilts in the sun.
It is the moment every young police cadet dreams of – finally being told they’ve withstood the test and trials to become an officer. Hundreds of young recruits today lined up in their finery at Bogota police headquarters in Colombia to be officially welcomed into the force.
But the heavy uniform, hat and gloves combined with the balmy 19C heat was all a bit too much for one recruit. The woman, dressed in the traditional grey blazer, white skirt with matching gloves, ceremonial hat and staff, collapsed to the ground in the middle of the ceremony.
Ironically, no one came to help her after she passed out. They all just assumed the cartels hit her.
Well, it looks like I’ll have to rebuild my audience again. Hooray. It’s rather humbling to go from 1,400 readers a day to 200, but hey, I’m sure I deserved this – considering I am pure evil. So with that, this will be the blog until the main site gets back up. With that . . .
So you say you want some red meat?
New Mexico authorities say they’re puzzled by what turned up in a package of meat at a Roswell grocery store. A worker at Albertsons opened a case of frozen ribs Wednesday and found a handgun and ammunition packed with the meat.
Maybe it was a ladies’ model that was ribbed for her pleasure?
Well, it’s 4:30pm on the east coast, and despite Jim’s yeoman work, SYLG is still not up and running. This is a problem, because the second I post something meaningful – like the Caption Contest – I just know the main site will pop up like Punxsutawney Phil.
In the interim, I decided to go with what is tried and true . . .
Now this place feels like home.