That's So Wrong: Uncensored!

Back by popular demand! You guys sent me a ton of stuff. I'm trying my best to get it all published tonight. If you sent me something, but don't see it displayed here, then I probably lost your email through all the confusion and chaos of switching blogs. Either remind me or send it again and I sure will put it in the next segment.

WARNING: Some of the stuff displayed here was stuff I couldn't use on my old journal, being that I had to submit to AOL's terms of service. I don't have to do that anymore! This is questionable material. Do not scroll down or click a link if there are children present. I'm warning you, unless you want to be answering questions like "Mommy, what's that thing between his legs?" See what I'm saying? Hey, at least I warned you first. I also want to say this is one huge monster of an entry. It's going to take awhile to load. I apologize.

Okay, I wanna start out by acknowledging all the wonderful volunteers I had for my Mortal Kombat make-overs. I worked really hard on these. Took me forever. But I don't mind, because my volunteers look FABULOUS!

First up is Chris (Swibirun).

Chris is modeling the Scorpion gear. If you look to the right, you can see what Scorpion looks like in the Mortal Kombat game. As you can see, I did a darn fine job in mimicking him. Scorpirun was born.

Chris was the first model that I transformed. In the process of transforming him, my son walked in and demanded that I transform him too.



And this is Sub-Kade, who is a clone
of Sub-Zero. Pretty cool, huh?

My paintshop powers know no bounds. If only I used my powers for good, instead of funny. Mwahahaha!

Yes, I actually took the time to track down pictures of the real Mortal Kombat characters. I am THAT dedicated to this. Plus my son kept nagging me to get his just right. He actually stood next to me and critiqued the progress.

I love this kid. Really I do.






Next up is Julie, who has been modeled after Kitana. The twins were perfect for Mortal Kombat, being that they both rock and I could use them to be Kitana and Mileena. I'm so smart!

The picture to the right doesn't show Kitana with her face mask on, but I assure you, she had one in the game.



And here we have Judith, rocking out Mileena-style. Below is the real Mileena, but as you can see, they are dopplegangers.


Tough chicks unite! Isn't it funny how my models sent me random pics to make over but they look like they posed for it? I'm telling you, it's kismet, man. It is.

And that concludes the Mortal Kombat part of this entry. Thanks to all those that volunteered. I appreciate it!








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This is the point where you must make sure the kiddies are not present. Yes, I'm warning you again!

I knew Moksha would just love this one.

Oh that's just not right. At all!



The audacity of this guy amazes me.



Poor kid, he must have some awful morning breath.

When they said they were going to pitch a tent, I doubt they had this is mind.

I don't even wanna know how this happened.

This takes the term "blowout" to a whole new level.

Look closely.






Video Links:

This guy is talented.

I was never this stupid as a kid.

Mercedes driver gets owned by old lady ~ classic!

The Dark Lord Omz wants you to click this link.

Baby!

For women AND men.

This entry is dedicated to all the contributors: Chris (Swibirun), Penny, Julie and Judith, Derasta, Kade, and my Chris.

Weep and you weep alone

Unless you weep near me, in which case, I'll be crying right along with you, even if I don't know why we're weeping. Even if.

I've been redecorating. Thanks to Jodi for the links to great templates. Third pimp on the new blog, haha! What would I do without her? I would be a no-music, new template-less girl frustrated with the way this thing works, that's what.

How do you like it? I'm quite proud of it, myself. I am really starting to catch on to this html stuff. 'Tis great.

I want you all to make a special trip to Omar's blog today. Just do it, don't ask why. Wait for him to post today's entry though. And if he asks for participation, do it, don't ask why.

I keep receiving funny stuff from you guys. I can't let it go to waste, so I think I'll start up the "That's So Wrong" segment again. And this time I can't get TOSsed. Mwahahahaha!!

I'm gonna go help Char spruce up her blog now, so later chickadies. (Fourth and fifth pimp! Yes, I'm keeping count.) Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Laugh and the world laughs with you

Last week, as I stood on the corner waiting for my son to get out of school, this little girl began running down the sidewalk. She tripped and did a faceplant. It was the mother of all faceplants. Somehow she was okay. She got up dusted herself off and began running again.

I don't even think I can describe it accurately. I mean she fell and her face hit the sidewalk while her feet were still up in the air. It was amazing. I stood there pressing my lips together to keep from laughing out loud.

Yes, I know I'm going to hell, thank you very much.

I felt very bad for my urge to laugh. It reminded me of all the times I've watched ski accidents. I don't know what it is about ski accidents that makes me laugh. I mean, I'm horrified too ya know. It's like I'm so horrified I have to laugh at the comical way the skier is doing cartwheels down the hill. Because what else can I do? I mean I know it's not funny, but try telling your body to stop laughing. It's not so easy.

Don't you hate it when someone is trying to tell you something funny, but they start laughing in the middle of the story? So then you start laughing because they're laughing. Then they finally manage to tell you the story and it wasn't that funny afterall. Dude I premature laughed for that? Man.

What is it about a laugh? What makes some things funny to some but not others? Am I the only one that laughs at inappropriate times? What's with all these questions?

I hope I never do a faceplant on skis, because karma's a bitch. And I've got it coming to me.

Welcome to the world of CRAZY

Who is crazier than Tom Cruise, you ask? These people: http://www.godhatesfags.com/main/

Let me just sum up their little protest in a nutshell. They're some church group out of Kansas (WBC), who believe that the good ole US of A has grown too tolerant of homosexuals. They believe that all the soldiers that are out there dieing for their country are only fighting for a more tolerant America. And this church can't handle that. So they are going to each soldier's funeral and protesting by calling the deceased soldier a "fag."

Doesn't make much sense, does it? Well, that's what you get when you have one church full of complete and utter morons.

Wanna hear some good and rather amusing news? My husband found this site when he went to a biker forum. The members of the biker forum were so enraged by this site, that they plan to protest the church's protest.

Now I don't about you, but if I were some kooky church member protesting a hero's funeral and a bunch of bikers showed up outta no where to stop me, I'd be getting the heck out of dodge. I'm waiting for my husband to get me more info, but if you want to join the protest of this sad and misinformed WBC protest, I'll be more than happy to get you the info to make that happen.

I'm more concerned about the soldier's family and loved ones. It's really sad when not only do they have to deal with the loss of a loved one, but they have to deal with a bunch of lunatic idiots that can't get a clue.

I just want to say one thing. God doesn't hate anyone. He loves us all.

Is it just me?

Am I the only one that has a mini panic attack when I try to leave a comment and the word verification is there, awaiting for me to mess it up? It's like an eye exam. I'm afraid if I get the wrong answer, some optometrist will come out of the woodwork and declare me legally blind. It doesn't help that they put beer goggles on the word verification word... which isn't even a real word, but just a jumble of letters. Trust me, I looked it up. Jntbvrtl is not a word.

Seriously, it's not.

I need to ask something to those of you that kept both your blogger blog and your journal. Which one do you want me to comment in? I still get your alert, so if I don't leave a comment after getting the alert, I feel guilty. But then there's your blog that you just took the time to make, so if I don't leave a comment in it -- I still feel guilty. Help me, please. Help me, help you.

I gotta say this, because it's true. And you all should know that Jodi gives great card. She does. I just got mine in the mail. Happy happy. Joy joy. It was great. Thank you, Jodi!!!

(That was my second pimp on my new blog. Just wanted you to know that.)

Tomorrow, I plan to write in order to voice my ..ah... concern (a.k.a complete and utter rage) over something that has just been brought to my attention. It has nothing to do with journals or ads, so you can breathe a sigh of relief. It's far worse. I'm warning you ahead of time, because the group I am writing about are so off-the-wall insane, they make Tom Cruise look like Ghandi. And I hate Tom Cruise, so that should tell you something.

It's hard to think of a closer to such a strange entry. So instead, I'll just hit the "publish post" button.

I'm heartbroken

The thing about Thanksgiving is yes, you give thanks and all that. Yes, it's time to be with family and all that jazz. And I do. Give thanks, I mean. I am very thankful for all that I have. I know I'm lucky.

With that said, I need a moment to whine.

Last summer, my mother married a great guy. The problem is that she moved halfway across the country to start her new married life with said great guy. I'm happy for her. Really, I am. She deserves happiness.

But I still deserve to get my shrimp salad!

This is my mother's culinary masterpiece. It is her signature dish. No one else knows how to make it, you can't buy it, it's not a traditional recipe for Thanksgiving. I can only get it from her. And she's halfway across the country!!! I am now depressed. It isn't Thanksgiving unless I can gorge myself on shrimp salad!

A little piece of me is missing. As I sit writing this, a single tear has formed in my eye. I miss my moth--- I mean, I miss the shrimp salad.

In conclusion, if I don't get some shrimp salad for Christmas... shit is going to hit the fan.

Happy Turkey Day

I just want to wish everyone a safe and Happy Thanksgiving!

If Ari ruled the world

I have just discovered a new toy. When you go to create a new post over here at blogspot, they give you lots of new options. I just discovered I can now make lists! I can! So in an effort to try out this new feature (new for me anyway), I shall make a list of all the reasons why I should rule the world.

1. I believe in bitchslaps.
2. I would make Subway start using those little cards with the stamps on them again. Because I have quite a few free sandwiches coming my way.
3. Clothes will no longer be mandatory.
4. There will be a new dress code for AOL executives. They shall now have to dress like Village People. And the ads go bye bye.
5. I shall be made chairman of the board over at Sony, where I will personally oversee the demise of Nintendo.
6. Every restaurant and grocery store will now make home deliveries.
7. Every woman will get one free pair of black bitch boots and hot pants. Every man will get one free glance at a woman wearing black bitch boots and hot pants. Only one glance, before #1 is enforced.
8. Political parties will be renamed. There will no longer be Republicans or Democrats. They shall now be called "Crazy people" and "Crazier people". You can decide which party is named what. I don't care.
9. Ice cream will now be the fourth meal of the day.
10. Disney will release all their movies on DVD. They will not be allowed to take movies away from us ever again.
11. Cows will be offered free televisions, because man, their lives suck.
12. It will be a requirement to hug at least three random people per day. Because everyone deserves a hug.

So as you can see, I should be allowed to rule the world. I would make it such a great place to live. And also, I really like lists.

Back to it

Yes, I'm back to raging at AOL.

You'll have to excuse my temper, but I do not allow people to treat me this way. I sure as heck am not going to let a greedy money-hungry company do the same. And ya know what's the worst? AOL preaches it's excellent customer service. I have never been treated so poorly by a company in my life!

They make a special email address to address our complaints. If there were only 23 complaints, why would they have a need to make one? We are assured by every AOL person we've contacted, that they are "elevating" our complaints to "the right folk", but when asked for a statement, they say they've only received 23 complaints. What a crock. I know more than 23 people complained multiple times using the Journal Changes email address. Not to mention, the amount of people that called in their complaints, or that spoke with live help to complain, or that decided to write in using snail mail, or that complained on the message boards, or in Joe's and Scalzi's journals.

We have a right to demand answers. They owe us that much. We deserve it, we're the ones being crapped on in every imaginable way.

We poured our lives into those journals, only for AOL to slap a banner on there, trying to make money off of it. There are people that have since passed whose journal is now defaced with that ad. My son has a journal so that he can learn to write. Why wasn't I asked before someone put a match.com ad above my seven year old's words? AOL is trying to use us.

But I won't stand for it. I won't stop until the executives that made this decision come out of hiding to address us. Maybe it is a useless battle, but for me, it's worth it. I'll continue to fight as long as those ads are there.

I refuse to let some big company try to intimidate or ignore me or my complaints. I'm better than that. I've been loyal to them for years and this is how they treat me? I am going to keep shouting from the rooftops. Maybe someday, the executives at AOL will take their heads out of their asses long enough to hear me.

AntiJournalsAds

A little something about Erika

Last night, I helped my Aunt make her very own blog. She had a journal at AOL, it was private. Like us, she was upset with the ads. She is like a little silent stowaway on our journey to blogspot. I would really appreciate it if you went over to her blog and welcomed her. http://journeyintotomorrow.blogspot.com/ Getting comments is like receiving suprise gifts. I would just like her to get a few suprises today that lift her spirits.

I think composing today's entry is going to test the limit of characters allowed in one entry. I've been composing it in my head for awhile now, so I know it's going to be pretty darn long. My apologies.

I'm always suprised by the comments I receive. Some have called me intelligent, some have said pretty, others have said funny. Usually when I get comments like those, I'm right in the middle of doing something that is none of those things. Like when I sneeze, only to discover that my hand is clean. So then it's a search to find out where the snot went. It's not on my hand, but it had to go somewhere. Then I read a comment about me, tilt my head in surprise and discover I have snot on my chin. Yay, that's always fun.

I guess the truth is that you've only seen what I've allowed you to see. There are far more intelligent people on these blogs, beauty is relative and my humor is my scapegoat. Every part of me wants to delete that last sentence. I have a huge ego, ya know? But by not allowing you to see past all that, I am holding back, guarding myself. It's cowardly, I should be more brave. The real me isn't so pretty. In fact, sometimes I can be rather ugly.

I've hurt a lot of people in my lifetime.

I could sit here and justify the reasons why I did such things and some of you would agree that I was justified in doing it. But it doesn't matter if I was in the right or not. I've left a lot of people in my wake, but if you were to ask how many enemies I had, I could only truly say one. There is a thought that you should forgive your enemies. I remember watching a talk show where a mother whose son had been shot, told everyone that she forgave her son's killer. I always thought that was so wonderful and wise and giving. I am none of things. I don't have that kind of forgiveness in me. There is one person out there that I will never forgive. He was supposed to care for me, make sure I was safe and happy, but it just didn't work out that way. He was my stepfather.

As a parent, you are supposed to go out of your way to make sure your children are healthy, happy and safe. My stepfather was ... This is tough. I can't even say that he was bad all the time, because he wasn't. Sometimes he could be so very wonderful. He could make you feel special. Other times, he was a monster. That in itself was so confusing and detrimental. Let me put it this way, if we had visitors or were out in public, he treated us like royalty. At home, it was different. Life was like walking on eggshells. We had to be careful, because one false move and he would erupt and take his rage out on us.

Let me make one thing clear. He never hit us, ever. He never laid a hand on us. I can remember a few times when he hit my mother. But the thing with my mother is that she hits back, so he learned very quickly to move away from that sort of thing. Sometimes I wish he had hit us, because then I would have had evidence that he was not the super sweet guy everyone thought he was. He read psychology books to find new and more useful ways of tearing us down. I hated those damn books. It was only later in life that I realized those books might have been a useful tool for revenge.

Whenever he erupted, he was maniacal. I don't even know if I can truly explain. Sometimes I wonder if he is truly insane. Ugh, no, I know he's not, which just makes explaining it a lot harder. He would rage and scream, that in itself was the scariest thing I've ever witnessed, but he also screamed some of the most vile things at us. Why didn't my mother leave? Because when you are told on a constant basis that no one will ever love you, you start to believe it. He got to her too. I don't resent her or blame her. Things could have been different for us if she had left, but she had no way of knowing how bad it would be. He tore her down just as much as us kids.

We all had different ways of handling it. My brother would bottle it all inside. There is nothing scarier than watching a grown adult scream the worst things at a child, only for that child to sit there and take it all inside himself. Most of the time, my brother didn't fight it. He just sat there and let my stepfather scream. That's about the time when my mother or I would start fighting for him and get the attention away from my brother. My cousin would sit there and weep, then later block it out of her memory. To this day, I don't know if she remembers half of what he said to her. I envy her in that regard.

And then there was me. I am very much like my mother. My mother fought back like a hellcat. Then difference between us is that I only fought back when I was backed into a corner. There were so many times he emotionally backed me into a corner, that I had nothing else to do but to fight my way out of it. I remember one time, he was being especially cruel. My grandmother had just died and he was raging about what a horrible woman she was. I only took so much of that before I launched an attack. I remember thinking that I had to say something that would shock and surprise him. I had to catch him off guard. I found his weak point and I exploited it. I said something to him that was really very horrible. I am not going to repeat it now. Once he heard it, he was instantly quiet. He even staggered backward a couple of steps and put his hand to his chest. Then he left the room. And I discovered that I had beaten him. There was no sense of victory at all. The only thing I felt was relief.

My discovery made it so that I had some sort of power over him. All I had to do was find an emotionally vulnerable spot of his and go for it like a lion biting into a jugular. And it worked. So I learned this art of saying the worst possible thing as a defense mechanism. As I grew up, if ever a person tried to hurt me, I would expose their weakness and go for it. I had no way of knowing this as a child, but beating him at his own game was to become like him. I hate that I caught on so quickly. I hate that I learned how to beat him, but in retrospect, I can't imagine living my childhood without fighting back.

And so it became a game between the two of us. Arrogance in all its glory. We would match wits, verbally spar until one of us was so hurt, that they had to walk away. The difference was he was an adult and I was a child. You might think that he was weak for trying to verbally spar with a child, but there were times when I beat him so badly, he avoided me for days.

As an adult, I've learned that when I feel this impulse, I must remove myself from the situation, lest I lose control of myself. I have learned that not everyone is my stepfather, and beating them is no victory, only a loss for myself. That is not to say that I have always followed this advice. I can be quite a bitch, when you get right down to it. But each time, I lose a little bit of myself that I will have to work hard to get back. I don't want to be like him. So each time I interact with people, it's always a struggle to maintain control. I think this is why I am socially awkward and avoid people.

My husband always asks me why I don't go out more. I think to myself, "It's for the best. Can you imagine the destruction?"

Okay, I couldn't resist one little funny line in there. Even as I sit here composing this, there is a small trickle of fear that runs down my spine. I would hate for him to read this, because I know he would call me and try to apologize his way back into my life. I refuse to allow it. I won't forgive him. I won't let him be a part of my life now and more importantly, there is no way in hell I will let my son anywhere near him.

And he still does it, ya know? I have let our old arguments from the past go. I don't care anymore. He still believes he's right and will go to any length to prove it. He still finds ways of trying to tear me down. He's still replaying our epic battles in his head. I have moved on. He means nothing to me.

Somewhere inside me, there's still that little girl getting backed into a corner. So yeah... I'm not all sugar and spice. Somewhere, there's a little venom inside me. I might not have put it there, but I most assuredly can try my best to keep it from taking over. And really, that's all I can do.

Breaking down those walls

I've come to a few conclusions. First of all, this blog looks far more professional that any of AOL's blogs. And I like that I can go into the template and make things how I want them to look. Second of all, I am keeping the alerts for all the journals that didn't move off of AOL. It's their decision and that's cool. If I can trek over there to see theirs, then maybe they will come here to see me. I've also decided that I'm not deleting my old journal. I've made it private and I think I will keep it that way. I just can't destroy something I've worked so hard on. So from now on, it will only be for me. And this blog will be for everyone else. I'm not going to give up the fight to get rid of the ads, though.

I also remember that something good always comes from something bad. This was sort of a wake up call for me. Being funny is nice and great and all that, but for me it's become my wall. If I'm funny, then I can joke about myself without anyone criticizing me for it. But that's hardly a thing anyone courageous would do. In short, I've sort of become a coward with it.

Yes, I really am self-centered. Yes, I really do have a wicked temper. And there's quite a few people that I've left in my wake, when it comes to that temper. I'm not proud of that. And lately, I've been falling back on old habits. But that's not all there is to me. So maybe, this move was good, because it made me see that now I can start writing about me. All of me, not just the funny parts. I can stop hiding. Maybe let my guard down for a bit.

I can write about Erika.

And maybe, just maybe, I can figure out more about her as well. I'm starting to think that life is about finding who you are, where you fit in to this big ole universe. Don't worry, I'm not going to get all profound. I guess, more than anything, this entry is a caution sign, a warning of sorts. I'm not always going to write about funny things. I'm going to have to let more of myself out there. Some may not like what they see. And that's okay. I just don't want to be scared to put myself out there anymore.

That's all.

Ooops!

Okay, lemme apologize first and foremost. I'm sorry. I'm a dork. I know this. What am I sorry for? Well, I'm still getting used to these controls and settings. It's new for me, so bear with me. I accidently had my settings on "team members only", so if you tried to comment, it wouldn't let you. SORRY! I didn't mean to!

You know what else I did? I was goofing around with pictures. I thought it would be funny to have a scantily clad picture in my profile. It wasn't that bad, actually, but I barely had a shirt on in this picture. Well unbeknownst to me, every time I comment, that picture is there next to my comment. OOOOOOOOOOOOOPS! DOH!

I had to take that one down. I didn't realize! I'll put another one up soon. One that is just a normal picture. I promise.

Sorry to those of you I flashed. I didn't mean to!

Bitchoholic

Hi, my name is Ari and I am a bitchoholic. I like to complain. I like to whine. But most of all, I like being a bitch. Also, I like to cuss, and now I get to, so that's always cool. I know I should be all humble and I know I should be more... selfless... wait, that's a word right? But it's sooooooooo boring to be those things. It's so boring to suffer.

It's much more fun to make others laugh and laugh at people-- I mean with people, with them... what? I don't know.

Wait, wait, wait, back the horse up here. I do have a heart. Really, I do. So just keep that in mind as you read what comes next. Because the truth is, I like Joe the Journal Editor. I think he's a swell guy. I just can't miss out on the opportunity to laugh at the situation. So I offer you... a parody of Joe and AOL and us, the consumer, who late one night, decide to go to bed with Joe.

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Joe casually flips to his side of the bed, momentarily satiated and just a little tweaked.

Joe: Was it good for you?
Consumer: I think a part of me is broken now, I can't get it to work.
Joe: Have you tried rebooting your ass?
Consumer: Very funny, Joe.
Joe: I've got some new updates coming soon. These will include new moves, such as the wheelbarrow, doggystyle and the flying monkey.
Consumer: Say what? Whatever, seriously it was not that good. I need a cigarette.
Joe: I will direct your complaints to the higher ups.
Consumer: What are you talking about? Will stop trying to clear my footprints!?
Joe: I've been told it helps solve the problem.
Consumer: You broke my vagina. And there's a guy in the corner holding a Bank of America sign...
Joe: Let me try to fix it. Oh and about that guy... he can't be moved. Forget about him.
Consumer: You're not fixing anything!
Joe: I think I need to address this problem later in the afternoon.
Consumer: Will you get that guy out of here? He's freaking me out!
Joe: I will address this problem in six hours.
Consumer: Whatever, I knew I should have gone out with the Netzero guy instead.

***Later that afternoon***

Joe: It's time for me to address this problem.
Consumer: Zzzzzz
Joe: The problem was that during the flip motion of screwing you, I managed to break your hard drive. These problems tend to crop up if these moves aren't tested first. It happens.
Consumer: Huh? Joe are you talking? I must've fallen asleep here.
Joe: See I put my hand there and then you put your foot there --
Consumer: What? Yeah I know what we did --
Joe: So when you put your finger there, I think you pressed something, then I pressed back --
Consumer: I know, Joe, I was there.
Joe: And then the Bank of America guy came in and you said things were broken. I still haven't managed to fix that --
Consumer: Joe! He's STILL here! And there's five others ones now too!
Joe: Yes, the Quizno's guy paid me so that he could watch.
Consumer: Are you kidding me?
Joe: No, I will take your complaints to the higher up so that your opinion can be heard.
Consumer: What higher ups?
Joe: Oh, you know, the right folk that handle these things.
Consumer: That's it, I'm out of here.
Joe: And then you said you were out of here.
Consumer: Knock it off!
Joe: And then you said knock it off.
Consumer: Quit rehashing things I've said!
Joe: Fine. Let me just rehash what the others have said then
Consumer: What others?
Joe: Oh, all the others I'm screwing over.
Consumer: That's it, I'm outta here!
Joe: Wait, come back, talk to my customer service representative! If you let him screw you, he won't make you pay for it for six months!
Consumer: Asshole!

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I should note, that Joe is being used as a symbol for AOL. We all know he is not at fault for whatever went on. I just needed to use him, because I was parodying some of his actions. And because I'm a bitch like that.

*Curties*

AntiJournalsAds

Bursting with oozy joy, oh joy!

For those of you protestors out there, and you know who you are, I have some fun info for ya. Luff me.

Joe Redling, Chief Marketing Officer.
Corporate Headquarters: America Online, Inc.
22000 AOL Way
Dulles, VA 20166
(703) 265-1000

Just wait for an operator, ask for Mr. Redling. Most likely, you'll get his voicemail like I did. But that's okay, you can still leave your opinions about the ads on the AOL journals. And you'll be leaving them with an actual AOL executive. *wink*

If that's not enough, then you can email Ted Leonsis with his AOL screenname: Leonsis or Bill Schreiner with his screenname: Bill Schreiner.

I'm still doing my research. I'm using this http://www.corp.aol.com/whoweare/whoswho/index.shtml as a starting point. Have fun chickadies!

It's been three days and I'm about to burst from holding in my hilarity. And it's cold. So cold that I had to pull out the toe socks. That's just sad.

Give me time to update my links. I will be adding more of the AOL survivors to my list. Right now, there are people bitching about the ads in the journal (me me!). Then there are people bitching at those people for bitching about the journals. Then there are editors bitching at us for being bitched at. It's one big giant bitchfest.

I'm in awe.

Why'd they have to go and do that?

This really sucks because I had a weekly stint going on where people would send me funny things and I'd put them on my blog for shits and giggles. I did this on Wednesday. Today's Wednesday. And here I find myself at a new blog. There's a few familiar faces out there, but I can't help but miss all of the old crew.

AOL did more than try to turn us into whores, putting advertisements on our personal journals, trying to make money off of our writing. They upset a community. It feels like we're broken, fractured. I just want all of us to be together again.

Heh. It sort of feels like we graduated high school and are now going our separate ways. I'm going to try like mad to keep that from happening though.

I don't get to my "That's so wrong" entry today. So instead, I'd like to give a huge thank you to Char, Omar, Chris, Chuck, Rebecca, Judith, Julie, Celeste, Cyndy, Astaryth, Penny and so many more. Thank you for reading my old blog. There's a lot of people I'd just met. Just because your name isn't here doesn't mean that I won't miss you too. I will. I am going to make it a mission to find all your new blogs.

It would be nice if it didn't come to that. It would be nice if AOL would take those ads down. Until they do, I'll be here, being pinkalicious and all that. I have to stand my ground on this one. I won't be exploited for someone else's gain.

I already miss you guys!

AOL Boycott

Looks like I'm about to set up home here. I was originally a part of the AOL journalling community. We all had blogs there. Unfortunately, AOL decided to treat us like crap by adding a bunch of advertising to our blogs, basically using us to make money.

At least this blog is free, so I'm not paying someone to exploit me. The good news is that blogspot.com is about to receive a bunch of new members.

Hi to all! And to my fellow community, I say, you guys are great to stand up for yourselves like this. We won't allow them to walk all over us.