Okay, this is annoying me – it used to be when I hit the scroll button on my mouse to open a link in a new tab, it would open the new tab at the end of the row of tabs (I always have several tabs open at a time). Now, it opens the tab in a new tab directly to the tab I’m in. (Could I have said “tab” more often? TabTabTab!)
Anyone else having this issue and anyone have an idea how to fix it? It’s really bugging me!
Edited to add: Go here, and follow the directions. Fixed! Yay!
We had two Great Pyrs, one just crossed over the Rainbow Bridge, but the hair they leave behind is unreal. You would think they would be bald. most people do not realize that they are nocturnal. They sleep during the day as the animals that prey on their keep are nocturnal too. So they are ready and waiting for that fox that lurks during the night.
I’d never thought of it that way before, but it makes sense – that would certainly explain why George and Gracie spend a LOT of time barking at night!
Ran across a website today I thought you might enjoy:
From the intro: Founded 2005! Freaks. Weirdos. Unmapped roads. Whispering rocks. Deadening fog. Ghost pirates. Lonely islands. THINGS in the WOODS. Home of Stephen King & Glenn Chadbourne. A place where the 4 seasons really know how to live. Maine: the way life should be! This site is a nexus for conversation about Maine’s unique strangeness, people who love it, people who have experienced it, & people who are intrigued by it. History, mysteries, legends, current events, cryptozoology, & more.
The writer has a deal in works for a book based on his blog. Interesting.
Very neat – thanks for the link!
Lee left this comment that made me laugh out loud.
1) when my friend’s husband got a vasectomy, he decided to make him a bouquet of condoms filled with helium (we used to own a party supply company until party city moved in across the street!).
i bought a box of a dozen cheapo unlubed (cuz gross!) at wal-mart. after she rang it up, she leaned across the bagging area and whispered, “honey, do you want to put these in your pocketbook for later?” UM NO! I THINK I WILL HAVE PROTECTED SEX IN FRONT OF YOUR REGISTER!
2) i used to work for a company that filled commissary orders from jails. when we would run out of things between shipments, we would buy stuff at the little discount place down the street- they were open to the public but we could use for bulk orders at a discount. i was down there one day doing a pick up and the check-out line was extremely slow. i was shooting the breeze with the woman in front of me and i told her i didn’t care how long it took because i was in no hurry to go back to work.
the woman looked down at the stuff in my cart and looked up at me with the crazy eyes.”where exactly do you work?” she asked.
i looked down at the basket and realized i was pushing a cart with 4 CASES of medicated douches in it!
i explained it to her, we laughed it off and finally i made it to the car with my purchases.
then i got that thought that makes you laugh so hard you almost pee your pants: if i needed 196 medicated douches to get through my day, i would probably, in all honesty, would REALLY be in no hurry to get back to work!
Is derogative a word? It sounds like a marriage between “derogatory” and “pejorative.”
Damn it, Jane, how am I supposed to depend on you to reliably answer my grammar and punctuation questions when you don’t know that derogative is, indeed, a word? Dictionary.com defines it as lessening; belittling; derogatory. But when I first read the comment, I was like Joey in Friends after Chandler says that “supposably” isn’t even a word. I was all “Derogative. Derogative. Sir, that is a derogative term!”
And of course, the more you repeat a word the more made-up it sounds. But it’s a real word! I swear it!
I remember that you quit drinking soft drinks after having weight loss surgery. I thought that meant giving them up for life but it sounds like you’re drinking them again. How long did you go without diet coke (nectah of the gods!)before drinking them again?
I did give up Diet Coke for a while after surgery. When it comes to soda, weight loss surgeons are in two camps. One camp says that drinking any soda will stretch your pouch out, the carbonation will do it. The other camp says it’s fine in moderation, because if you think of your pouch as a balloon with an opening at each end, it’s impossible to stretch out with carbonation because the gas created by the carbonation will escape from one end or the other. My surgeon is in the first camp…. and I’m in the second.
I actually sent out an email in July of 2006 – so, six months after I had surgery – saying that Fred and I were at the movies and he had gotten a Diet Coke and offered me a sip of it, since it was kind of flat. I took a sip… and it tasted HORRIBLE. I was like “Why on EARTH did I ever drink that stuff?!”
Over the next six months or so, I slowly went back to drinking Diet Coke, and I’ve been drinking it ever since. I still drink lots of water – about 2 liters a day – and I occasionally drink other flavored stuff, but the problem is that I was never able to find anything with flavor that I loved as much as I loved Diet Coke.
Of course, this is MY experience and I’m not necessarily recommending it for anyone else. You should never go against your surgeon’s advice, of course. Ahem.
Glad you’re back in action but please, Robyn, DON’T overdo. We’ll all get really peeved at you if you’ve got a litter of kittens you can’t photograph because you’ve had to return to bed. Just remember, you have a responsibility to your readers to satisfy their prurient kitteh-gazing interests. 😉
I am absolutely not overdoing it, I promise, I’m fully aware of my responsibilities to y’all! Yesterday, in fact, I took it super-easy, did nothing but hang out with Maura, snuggle and love on the new guys, and the rest of the time I caught up on my TV-viewing.
Less than a week, and I should get clearance from my doctor to resume normal activity, yay! I swear, I will vacuum this house 100 times once I’ve got the okay to do so!
Thanks, you guys, for your kind words yesterday. I do know that the mama cat wasn’t alone at the end, and even if I’d been there, it wouldn’t have meant anything to her, but I still felt bad. I still do, a little, but I told her boys about her yesterday (they seemed unimpressed, but it made me feel better!) and what a fighter she was, and what an awesome mother for taking such good care of them. I’d like to say that they looked wisely at me as though they understood, but their reaction was more along the lines of “O HELLO, IS THIS FINGER EDIBLE?”
Okay, they’re named. Please keep in mind that Fred was the namer this time around, so I wasn’t ignoring your name suggestions; he was. Heh.
Meet the Bookworms.
That’s Rhyme (as in Jeffery Deaver’s Lincoln Rhyme) in the front, and Corbett (Robert McCammon’s Matthew Corbett series) in the back.
Reacher (Lee Child’s Jack Reacher series).
And Bolitar (Harlan Coben’s Myron Bolitar series).
Corbett bites Rhyme’s behind. Rhyme does not appreciate this.
Rhyme and Corbett, lookin’ guilty.
The Bookworms are doing well. They’re definitely older than the Wonkas were when we got them – they’re already lapping formula out of bowls, and though they’re showing no interest in eating canned kitten food, they’ve all been spotted belly up to the bowl of dry kibble. For now, what I do three times a day is put a couple of bowls of formula in the room, leave while they lap it up, then go back into the room after about ten minutes to offer them the bottle. They’re still taking the bottle, but they’re not desperate for it or anything – they’re like, “Oh, there’s a bottle? Well, okay. I suppose I’ll chew on it for a few minutes.”
They’re all using the litter boxes, and except for the first day, I’ve spotted no accidents. Of course, NO ONE ever goes to the litter box alone, even if they want to. Yesterday, Reacher was in the litter box, and one of other kittens was sitting outside the litter box swatting at him.
Thus far, I’ve only had to give one bath (Bolitar was kind enough to tromp through someone else’s poop), so that’s pretty good, right? I feel like I was bathing the Cookies every single day. Of course, the Cookies were a few weeks younger when we got them, too.
I’m declaring these guys to be about five weeks old, which gives them the birth date of February 8th. If you were wondering. 🙂
“Okay, lady, I’ve been thinking. If I were to actually give birth to these babies I’m carrying around, then I’d have to start with the cleaning and feeding and all that. I really like my current life of leisure. If I want to sleep for six hours, bat a toy ball around, and then sleep for another six, there’s no one to stop me. No one screaming to be fed, no one needing a poopy butt cleaned.”
“So I’m just going to NOT give birth, okay? That a problem for you?”
Snugglin’ Newt and Elwood.
Previously
2009: Someone’s always fucking up the risotto, sending Chef Ramsay into apoplectic rages wherein he bellows at whichever hapless fuckup is in his crosshairs.
2008: That Pioneer Punk is a bad, bad influence.
2007: I am such a prize, I really am.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: “Have you noticed that it smells like the bodies of fifteen [gentlemen of Chinese descent] laying in a pile in the ditch, rotting?”
2003: Always something, you know?
2002: “I’m starving to death. Meh. STARVING, I’m STARVING. Meh.”
2001: My baby’s growing up!
2000: No entry.