It's not about the house.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

You Like Me! You Really Like Me!

I have been so very sad, lo, these many days, because I ain't been gettin' ass hits on this'ere blog. I thought you had abandoned me. My diehards have still been here -- and lord knows I loves my diehards (case in point: I tried to make every letter in that word a different link to a different one of you, but darn blogspot wouldn't let me, and since I couldn't possibly choose only one of you, I chose none. That's how much I love) -- but the numbers just plain weren't. And, although lord knows I love spending all my not-so-very free time writing about poopy, the numbers were supposed to be the point.

I got sad. I got punchy. I got withdrawn. I got (in other words) not very funny. About as funny, as my mother used to say, as a fart in church.

Which, no matter what Goody might think about the situation, is actually pretty freaking funny, so I've never understood that there expression. Or the one about shaking sticks at things. I mean seriously, why is it any harder to shake a stick at a lot of something than to shake it at a little? It's not. See? I just shook a stick at all of you, and if I'm right in what I'm about to say, you are a lot more than you were yesterday.

Because I just figured out I broke it. My RSS feed. Whereby all my brilliant writings get dumped on the good folks at All those good people over there who sometimes read my blog even though I very seldom write about anything constructive going on about the house -- they weren't getting the feed. They must have thought that I'd finally blown the AssVac up for good, or abandoned it and taken to the open road.

But no, I'm fine. I'm just a moron.

Actually, I'd swear that I was not the one who broke it. I'd swear I did nothing of the sort and that the damn thing just got broke. But I know me. And if I know me as well as I think I do, you can bet this whole thing is my fault somehow. Also the subprime collapse. And global warming. And the fallout over Armenian Genocide. Not Darfur, though. I've never even been to Africa.

Anyway, whatever happened, I believe I've fixed it now. So yay! Welcome back, housebloggers! And for the Diehards that were with me all along, I've got one word...



Sandy & Michael said...

It's true! I was having to search for your blog in order to see what you were up to!

I would have mentioned something sooner if the crazy life that has been preventing me from blogging was not also interfering with my ability to surf the internets as much as I would like to.


Tara said...

You're back! :) (I'm too lazy to go looking...)

Anonymous said...

This is a houseblog?

Sparkle Plenty said...

Small quibble: You remained very funny!

I understand what your mother meant about farts in church. Yet as I recall, a silent-but-deadly fart can be pretty funny--with a whole pew of people giving each other the fish eye...including whoever dealt-eth it unto the pew.

Khurston said...

LOL how bout a fart in the basement. I popped the tiniest little button but it grew a tail and swam around my head while I was putting clothes in the dryer. Abby tore herself away from admiring the litterbox long enough to see what I was doing and said PEYOOOO! as she pointed to the lint trap I was emptying. "That thing is stinky!"
I know, abby, isn't it awful?

Amy Turn Sharp said...

found the house blo site via you merci
I linked to you-happy day

EGE said...

Sandy -- thanks for being one of the Diehards. Yippee-ki-yi-yay!

Tara -- glad to have you back. There was someone here posing as you in the interim and leaving spammy troll comments, but I wasn't fooled!

Anonymous -- yeah, well, it started out that way and then it kind of went off the rails. By the way, are you the Braveheart Anon, or are you a new one?

Sparkle -- aw gosh on the funny. And you said pew!

Khurston -- this whole story made me laugh out loud. Others may like to know that Abby is your three-year old, and "pop a button" is what we used to say when we were not allowed to say fart. Cuz it was rude. I have obviously long since abandoned the good sense my mother taught me.

Amy -- welcome! I've been following links to you through blogher ads, no? is great -- they even let me post there. Enjoy!

Mom Pom said...

And just to add to the fart talk. Confuscioys say " Man who fart in church.. Have to sit in own pew"