I'm kinda ready to make some things now. Super Heroing biz has died down lately so now I can work on stuff! I know, it's amazing!

I don't know what I'm gonna make, though. I got a lot of things on the slate.

I would like to make a real website some day. I think it'd be neat to have one of those.

Then I could stop using this social network sites. Blah! BLAH. BLAH I SAY.

Rararrrarrrrgh.

Today is what. June something. Or something.

Then there's July and then August, right?

I can count, right?

RIGHT GUYS?

Ok, anyway, so that means it's been what... 9 months since I've gotten my big boy job?

It's so big, it's... It's...

It's.......

Big.

So yeah, anyway, now that I am no longer sitting around in debt I have money flowing out of my ass.

My poor ass is getting reamed by fat stacks of cash.

I imagine it must be quite a sight to some of you just-as-hard-working-but-not-getting-paid-as-much-or-possibly-work-even-harder-folks to hear my groan and moan about my financial issues in that I flip out when I spend 200 bucks on something silly, have a heart attack, and then realize I have 20 times that sitting elsewhere doing nothing.

I'm such a DUMBASS.

So it's quite possible that things are going good.

Too good. And then BLAMMO, the world ends and then it was all for nothing. So it's not like it's a big deal if I don't spend it, 'cause I don't know what I'm missin' in the first place anyway.

So yeah.

Yeah. OK GUYS OK.

So then I go out today and spend what...

I don't know, I think it was like 20 bucks or something - Or was that on food, I didn't buy that, hold on, I'll get it in a second, ok I think it was a lot.

I feel kinda guilty.

But hey, it's been a while since I wrote something and I know nothing pisses more people off than when someone gripes about how they got it so damn good that it annoys themselves.

ARARARARRARRARGHGHGHGHGH.


Asdf.


So, uhm... It's going good. But it doesn't feel like it.

Yesterday is the 28th of February. 10 days ago was my birthday. The 18th. The birthday.

Ok big deal Rick, what's up.

Today I celebrated Murdercat's burfday. Yaaaaaaaaaay. Her burfday was on the 18th, too. Except we're celebrating it on the 28th. Uhm, ok. Sure.

So at about... Uh, 11 or so I get a call from Mom.

"DID YOU PAY YOUR INSURANCE"

I WILL ALRIGHT THANKS BYE

And there goes some fat stacks of cash. I won't miss 'em too much. It's just fat stacks of cash. It's not like it was fat stacks of cash or anything.

During that I missed a call from Murdercat. Ok, call back, yes, hi, yes, I'm coming, what, no, Doc is where, arrrgh, how do I get there, what am I doing now, agggh, ok, something street yes, right, what, ok, ok, fine, yeah sure alright bye.

During that I missed another call from Doc. "Yeah, we're going to Kayla's."

Uh... ... Ok.

"We aren't going yet though."

Uh... ... Ok.

"We'll call you when we are going."

Uh... ... Ok.

"kthxbye"

Uh... ... Ok.

So two hours later...
"We're going now."

Uh... ... Ok.

So I drive to Kayla, meet Luke, have an epic car battle (Dah nah nah nah nahnah nah nah) and pick them up and off we go.

It's somewhere along route 146, I've driven by there a few times so I'm kinda surprised how close it is. However, there was one thing standing between us and getting to our goal.

SUBURBIA.

Oh god no.

I hate Suburbia.

It's really freakin' creepy. Houses upon houses down roads of roads that don't go to anywhere and there's nothing really anything anywhere and it's all flat and what the hell I don't know anythingohgodweareallgonnadiehowonearthcouldyoulivethereisthatteaohgodiloveteatitsurelooksdelicious.

And then there's OUTER DRIVE. Which leads to INNER SPACE. A collection of fiendishly turns and other sorts, with freaky houses all over.

And finding the right house is scary enough. They're all the FUGGIN SAME.

So we find it and there's Murdercat. Ready to murder. We're late. I am dead.

Sodead.

Soded.

Instead I'm told to take my shoes off and come inside.

There's people there.

Young people.

They're at least 9 years younger than me.

9.

That's old man.

I'm old. What the hell.

But man, I can't stand them. They're TERRIBLE.

For one, they're all greasy and smelly. Two, despite their best efforts at looking decent they were just as appalling as I was - I had worn my Super Rick Scarf that day, I figured Murdercat would appreciate my effort at finding this great Super Hero and bringing him in would be just super duper and all that.

A couple of the older gals there somewhat appreciated the eccentricity, but ugh, the guys there were terrible. I'm not sure what they hell they were.

Cool. No, that can't be it. I don't think I can put my finger quite on it. They must be...


SUPER COOL.

Obviously they were super cool because these perfectly rational and completely sane ladies were all over their covetable bodies like someone had tossed trash on them and threw them to pigs.

It was pathetic and entirely awesome at the same time.

I naturally kept my distance. Not looking to needlessly exhaust my patience in one shot trying to evoke some kind of communication with folks who couldn't keep their pants on during phone conversations, I had to stand back and watch this tomfoolery unfold.

Since none of them were that interesting to be able to talk about anything important, they had to occupy themselves with other things in order to have something to talk about.

I find this really stupid.

If you have to play DDR to have a conversation with people (Which Kayla did quite well, good job) then obviously you don't know these people that well and you should be somewhere else wasting someone else's time. Seriously guys, this is just stupid.

We sorta milled about a bit, and then I scurried off to the tiny little kitchen which had an assortment of odd food, mushrooms, tomatoes, lettuce and other munchy stuffs that went along with Ranch dressing and salsa.

Right.

As other folks came and went and the day dragged on, my head was exploding and I was having to resort to having to take power naps whenever possible to drain out the noise that was driving me insane. Every five seconds there was a "That was what she said" line tossed in and every other comment was made toward sexual connotations.

Bleh. DOUBLE BLEH. SUPER BLEH. Just bleh, alright.

I then found a cat named Tigger and petted it and then people were leaving. Two of them decided to hang outside by my car (Apparently the SUPER COOL GUY IS SO SUPER COOL THAT HE NEEDS A RIDE TO GO down 1 or 2 blocks) and they were making out by my car.

My Grape is valuable to me and I like valuable things and this was valuable and I'm not gonna have Pretty Pretty Princess and Super Cool Guy do the mack macky on the back of my car, so I stormed out there and moved it, leaving them out in the open with no cover to hide behind, so then they just shuffled their feet around a bit instead.

During the process of the day I was continually buffeted, poked, pestered, prodded and made a fool of by Murdercat and Kayla that sometimes sleeping would be the best recourse to such an action. They then decided that playing dress up with bows and bikinis (GUH, BOWS) would be really great and I totally agreed. Yes. That's really great.

Then we went home. Home. Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.

Happy burfday.

I know it's been mentioned a few times, but I have actually gone ahead with creating a true new wave of horrendously NOT USEFUL Operating Systems.

There have been several in the works already. Some are theoretical, some actually exist. Some even go out of their way to be not useful at all.

But this... This adds a new touch of... I don't know, hilarity.

The FosieOS.

Basically, it's being made in the idea of a basic command line system, only it's a billion times more annoying because FosieOS will simply just spout off random things instead of actually being helpful. And he'll do this whenever you try to do ANYTHING, during ANY part of ANY step of WHATEVER it is you're trying to do. And a lot of times when he does this it never makes ANY sense.

Here's an example of one occurrence with this horrid little monster:

________________________________________________________________________________________
This is the FosieOS. Nyah!
You might want to do something... Sometimes.


FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
> run
FosieOS: Run what?

> notepad
FosieOS: Ok! I found the giraffe!

FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
> quit
FosieOS: FosieOS has started up!

FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
> quit
FosieOS: You sure you wanna quit? You can't get the zookeeper that way!
n
FosieOS: Ok, never mind!

FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
> help
FosieOS: Sometimes.

FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
> help
FosieOS: You put in help as a command! I don't know...!

FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
> help
FosieOS: FosieOS has started up!

FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
> help
FosieOS: Sometimes.

FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
> help
FosieOS: There's Tiger.

FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
> help
FosieOS: There's Tiger.

FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
> help
FosieOS: Sometimes.

FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
> help
FosieOS: Here's what you can do, ok?
exit
quit
run

FosieOS: What do you wanna do now?
>

I only have three commands.

The thing is, being able to run SOMETIMES and quit/exit SOMETIMES isn't nearly as flexible as I'd like it to be.

And he doesn't have enough things to say.

So this is where you come in.

Just think of any random Fosie saying and I'll add it to the list of random things FosieOS will say.

Also, any operation/command you'd like the FosieOS to TRY to do (The outcome will most likely not be what you expected) will also be quite hilarious.

(For example, if someone suggests to make a built-in Paint Program, I'll most likely just paste an ASCII cat that doesn't really do anything, and then follow it up with-

FosieOS: NYAAH! KITTIES!)

Go nuts.

Ok.

I don't get it. There is something about this 2000 pageview deal. I know there is, I'm just not sure WHAT, exactly.

It's very possible that someone could jack their own numbers by visiting their own page every few minutes and logging onto several computers to see if they got any hits. I'm not exactly sure what that 2000 is about, but if it's something to write about, gosh darn it, I'm gonna write about it.

Really lame. Poor form, Rick. Poor form.

TOO BAD OK.

Do I get a cake for having over 2000 page views? I've only really made, like 6 things.

My writings are too long and obscure for most - I don't think anyone really wants to spend time reading what I think is an unparalleled reading experience when it comes to that type of genre. But perhaps maybe we just don't have time to read these things. We got a lot of stuff to do!

So I just have a few flash animations and I should be lauded with medals, precious medals for being able to do the simplest of tasks and create a terrible Flash experience for people to attempt to enjoy.

Yes.

I want some medals.

Or somethin'.

Yeah.

But seriously, what is the deal? I haven't read about it anywhere. So what is it?