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Cardhouse
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2004feb02. Age-maps. [via The Finger]

2004feb04. A very bad person was able to re-purpose the Cardhouse contact page to send spam to various AOL users. I would just like to say to these people that I am sorry you are using AOL. Hahahahah! That’s an old “AOL users are zombies” joke. Anyway, we’ve got our top men working on it. If you need to send me email, use a502 [squiggly which I call the “at” sign] cardhouse [period] com ... for now.

2004feb08. “The operation timed out when attempting to contact [domain name].” It’s a good thing I have to click “ok” for every ad that bombs out on a webpage. Ads: annoying even when they’re not there.

2004feb10. All She Left Behind.

2004feb15. Classification.

The Site: cardhouse.com/
is categorized by N2H2 as:
Jokes
I hate jokes. Jokes are what people say when they’re used to running their mouths all day and they've nothing left to say. You watch, the co-worker will jibber-jabber and then suddenly seize up and you see his eyes darting back and forth and he’s run out of conversational juice but he’s got a whole TANK of joke juice. “Hey, what do you call two people who are having sex? You call them the sex-havers.” Whatever. Back in the ole’ office days, I got used to responding with dead eyes and a robotic “oh.” It never worked, they just started rolling through their “routine.” “Wait, I just remembered, I have to go get a piece of paper from my desk and carry it around all day.” You can do the same thing in the construction industry, but it’s a piece of wood. Or an empty bucket. That’s my “the construction industry would seem dissimilar to office culture but you’d be surprised – it’s not” joke.
The Site: n2h2.com
is categorized by Cardhouse as:
Useless
[via Jessamyn]

2004feb15. It’s everyone’s favorite Cardhouse Entertainment Segment, ANIMULE UPDATE!!!! Yesterday morning at about four a.m. we were in bed, listening to something walking on the wooden porch. KA-DONK KA-DONK KA-DONK. Slow, deliberate steps. The porch rounds the corner, and so did Kadonk. KA-DONK KA-DONK KA-DONK. Now the footsteps were coming up to the full-length glass doors ... and there’s the Javelina. At the doors, the porch is about three feet off the ground. The javelina goes kadonking over to the edge and ... gracelessly falls over the side. Ka-thud. In addition to the shitting and the eating of prickly pear cactus, the packs of javelinas are at least providing a bit of mirth.

2004feb18. Two pieces of spam. They’re starting to get closer to my normal inbox ravings.

fantangariffic! I took the only one pizzle of Cialgs and that was such a GREAT weekend! All the girls at the party were just punch-drizzunk with my potenshialle. i wurk it wurk it. I have dogged all of them THREE times but my dongle WAS able to do some more! IT LINGERED. Cgalis – it`s COOL!!! The best weekend stuff I’ve ever trgied! Haven`t you tgried yet? DO IT at hitelite linnkk coopee and then passste intoo browzerr [url deleted] watch adulltswim on cartoon networrk eep opp ork aa aa that means i loovvee youuuuuuu

Hey bro,

What’s up? Did I tell you about the party I hit up the other day? It was doppee! I found this n e t s i t e that slings this stuff called sillyest. It’s like vighagra times ten. You don’t even need a script to get it either. I was like a rockstar for 2 days straight. It was even better than that time we went to the clubb in lake titicaca!

they had some sort of prommotioncommotion thing going on when i hooked some up, i think it’s still on sail too.

“A script to get it.”

YOU: “I would like some ‘Sillyest.’ I believe it is like Vighagra, but multiplied by a factor of ten.”

DOCTOR (dramatically): “Sillyest? Oh, I don’t think I have any of that.”

[CAMERA SLOWLY PANS TO LOCKED CLOSET]

YOU: “But I want to be a rockstar for at least a couple of days straight. I am recalling the time a friend and I went to the Lake Titicaca Clubb. I was almost a rockstar then, perhaps for a day, day and a half. This would be better.”

DOCTOR (SFX: OPENS CLOSET): “Okay, you have followed the script. Luckily for you, it’s still on sail.”

YOU: “Ah. The prommotioncommotion.”

DOCTOR: “You can stop now.”

2004feb18. A personal message from the CEO and president of the Gillette company.

2004feb19. I am entirely sick of “logging in” to websites, especially when it’s for online media concerns that I may visit once every two weeks. Perhaps you already know you can get into a certain paper’s (rhymes with Stew Pork Times) website with the username “testtesttest” and the password “testtesttest.” This is a direct descendent from early default password schemes on mainframes, some of which had a username “test” and password “test.” I don’t know if that ever worked at SPT, but “testtest” used to, then it was killed, probably due to overuse. What the hivemind needs – and perhaps they've already come up with something and I’ve missed the bus again – is a logically extensible namespace for usernames/email addresses and passwords so all of us don’t have to continually enter “90210” when prompted for a zip code just to read a newspaper article. Those of us who are never going to enter correct demographic data should have a little communal “route around damage” path while compu-zombies around the world obligingly spend five minutes entering personal information for online concerns. It’s a win-win situation – the people who don’t want to enter information don’t foul up various corporation’s precious demographic data, and the people who think that giving “primary responsibility” information to the Washington Post is going to – I don’t know – magically shower them with gifts one day – can still do so as usual. Then again, perhaps the programmers at these various login-driven sites automatically kill IDs that are habitually swarmed by the hivemind. I cannot say at this time.

In a way, the Washington Post’s new overly-detailed sign-in page reminds me of the parable of the Monitor and The Merrimac. The Monitor was an olde-tyme BBS back in the days of youth and yore. Now, the way I understand the story, someone created a rogue dialer that they called “The Merrimac” that would dial into The Monitor late at night and create random users. So the sysop of The Monitor changed the login screen to ask the user a skill-testing question. The guy who programmed The Merrimac then futzed with his code a little bit so it would get past this and continue to add users. The battle became pitched on both sides until the login screen for The Monitor became so convoluted the regular users jumped ship, as it were, to other BBSes and/or the Monitor’s sysop became so disgusted with The Merrimac that he shut The Monitor down.

2004feb23. Phone conversation.

THEM: “Hello, I’m Unimportant Name from Tucson Radio Annoying Phone Intrusion Products GmbH and I’d like to take this time to conduct a small thirty-second poll with you concerning your daily radio choices. Which radio station do you listen to primarily during the day?”

NOT THEM: “Yes, I find myself listening these days mostly to WOFF FM, which broadcasts twenty-four hours of continuous silence. Less talk, less rock, W O F F.”

THEM: [begins to laugh]

NOT THEM: [click]

That was less than thirty seconds, perhaps I should ask for my money back. In other news, we macheted the last of the eight-foot tall dying prickly pear down for the Javelinas, who are still naughty smelly pigs but I figured since they started eating birdseed at 4am the other day they were a little low on foodstuffs. But that’s the last of it, you stinky porkers. Sort of like a good-bye treat. The machete goes clean through a prickly pear like it’s paper. It’s kind of scary. Scarier: gas-powered machete.

2004feb29. The only way to advance page(s) during a Google search is to scroll down to the bottom of the page to click on the “Goooooogle” string. Yahoo thought that crafty bit of UI was so awesome that they hobbled their own search pages with it as well! Well all righta!