You’d think that swine flu was some new and terrible thing, judging by recent media reports. Terrible it might be, but it’s certainly nothing new. This 1970’s revival thing is really getting out of hand.

I’ve been clicking this goddamn doohickey since well before noon when the weather turned nice, but I’m still at my desk and my shift isn’t over. This stupid thing doesn’t work at all.

Web 2.0, HTML 5, and CSS 4 are all very well and good, but all these highfalutin newfangled languages all share one common, glaring failure: no explicit blink tag tag support. Similarly disappointing is the utter lack of any further development of this noble bit of markup—and <blink> has been around for something upwards of a decade!.

To rectify this latter outrageous deficiency, and drive acceptance of the former, I propose the following expansion of <blink> functionality:

Element: <blink>
Syntax: <blink start rate color perchar>

Note: <blink> does not support the style or class attributes, as it is commonly agreed and understood that if you are using the <blink> tag, you have neither.

It is, of course, common knowledge that our current President is a horrible man. A foreigner, raised in a radical madrasa by Communists, his sole purpose in life is to oversee the utter desecration and ruin of our fair republic and Christendom in general. Thank goodness we have staunch patriots like Rush Limbaugh to expose him for his many crimes (no longer solely theoretical—they are now scrawled in blood across the canvas of our victimized planet) so that the world may see Obama’s true face.

So what, might you ask, is the latest outrage? Sundered from its protective web of liberal fiction, it is this: not content to merely murder the innocent unborn, he targets kids for destruction.
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The six-year-old has a thing for the ladies, and they seem to reciprocate. A few weeks ago, he was called a “chick magnet”. Puzzled by this new term, he asked for its meaning. This was supplied, and he was asked if he thought he fit the definition. “Well obviously!” he said. “I’m beautiful! Look at my eyes! I’m hip-hop!” (I have no idea what this last bit means, especially coming from a corn-fed, whitebread, towhead kid like him).

Wednesday night at the dojo, he appeared to be quite smitten with Regina, an adorable little girl about his age. It was obvious that he was fond of her; he shadowed her around the room, and kept up a stream of small talk (doubtless mostly about superheroes, as his obsession dictates) while she smiled and giggled. When asked, after training, if he liked her, he said “she can kick me in the cup anytime.” It was such a sweet and silly thing to say, I’m still marveling at it, and at him, two days later.

Our office overlords recently decided to replace all our trashcans with mixed-paper recycling bins. “Mini-bins” (small, parasitic black objects that hang off the side of the blue recycling bins) are attached to them, in the event that non-recyclable objects are discarded. Mixed paper goes in the blue bin. Everything else goes in the black bin. Despite the fact that our office generates almost zero recyclable mixed-paper waste (which was already adequately handled by two large recycling bins that we will still retain), management smiled upon this idea, declaring it Green, and delivered unto us the Mini-Bin System.

It’s entirely superfluous and mildly irritating (we’ve now no waste bins that can handle larger things like to-go containers, pizza boxes, dead hookers, etc.), but very simple to use. Paper goes in the blue bin. Everything else goes in the black bin. Repeat.

Nonetheless, to compound the already unwarranted expenditure on these new bins, we all have to attend a training session on how to use them. The mandatory “invitation” was sent out yesterday, so we all considered it an April Fool’s joke until our supervisor informed us that yes, we were indeed compelled to submit to instruction on how to use a fucking trashcan. All this waste—time, money, materials—in the name of efficiency. Boggling.