Snow.

Just a little bit. But heavy stuff.

And, of course, the snow blower wouldn’t start.

Took some pictures. Yeah, it’d be neat if I put some of them in this post, but the camera is in another room and I don’t feel like getting it. Normally, I’d go and get it, but I’m just doing my daily blog post, then it’s back to making dinner. I probably won’t be on later tonight because it’s game night.

Then again, I may be back late, late tonight, as in possibly early tomorrow.

Who knows?

Anyway, made two dips. One is a creamy salsa dip and the other is a bean dip. Once I finish up this post, I’m off to make Philly steak sandwiches.

Which I think will be, like, right now…

Today, I will share with you a method of earning $1,000,000 per year with your blog.

It’s an easy step by step procedure.

Step One: Find a way to earn $2,739.73 per day in profit on your blog.

Step Two: Keep it up and you’re done!

For $2,000,000 per year, just start a second blog and do the same thing.

Repeat as often as you wish.

Wait… What? You want me to tell you how to make $2,739.73 per day on your blog? Geesh. I’m not going to do all your work for you! If you can’t make the effort toward figuring out that minor detail, you don’t really want to make a million dollars a year blogging, do you?

Some people. You give them a step-by-step plan and they still aren’t willing to do the work necessary to bring the plan into fruition.

Well, I tried to help. You can lead a horse to water, but you just can’t make him drink, even if you push him in.

Shut up! It’s not a mirage! And sand can clean you as well as water anyway. Ever heard of sandblasting? That’ll clean things up. Don’t you watch Star Trek?

I almost forgot to blog today.

Here it is, one hour away from midnight and I just realized I hadn’t done a blog post today.

Whew. That was close.

I’m trying to manage 1000 days of consecutive daily blogging. I wouldn’t want to have to start over. In fact, I probably wouldn’t. I’d live with 500+ days. Maybe I’m close to 750 by now. Who knows? Anyway, it’s a long way to 1000 yet (December 27th of this year, I think).

So, whew. That was close.

Of course, all you’re getting is this lame post, but we’re going for quantity not quality these days, so what does it matter? Besides, Google still ranks me as a PR2 and there are only five of you reading, so, really, does it matter anymore?

Anyway, so this is today’s post. A post about how I almost forgot to post. Isn’t that exciting? Nope? Well, a post is a post. Deal.

Now, I’ll get back to what I was doing when I realized I hadn’t blogged today…

It’s Groundhog Day. Be prepared for six more weeks of winter, because Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow today.

It’s Groundhog Day. Prepare for six more weeks of winter, because Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow.

It’s Groundhog Day. Get prepared for six more weeks of winter, because Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow today.

Apparently, it’s Music Monday. Good thing Speedy had a post today, otherwise I’d have to post pictures of lightning or something.

But, instead, I know that it’s Music Monday, so I can do a Music Monday post.

Just without any music.

Hum along, if you know the tune. And, if you don’t, just make something up. Your co-workers will never know.

1…

2…

3…

A 1, 2, 3, 4…

My fame is fleeting.
I lived on the balcony.
Yes, I think you’ve seen my red door.

My nose is bleeding.
I fell from the balcony.
Yes, I think you pushed me too far.

Someday, somebody’s gonna come around and make you pay.
Until then, you’ve just got to let me go.
Oh, no, don’t let go.
I’m still dangling from the balcony.

Yes, I said I fell.
But, I was just giving you a scare.
Now would you please help me up?

Wait. Where are you going now?
Have you not seen my slipping hands?

Oh, I know you’re not slamming the door.
On this wet and rainy night.
I’m still hanging on the balcony.
None of this makes sense to me.

Oh, whoa… Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.
Woo. Woo. Woo. Woo. Woo.

Whoa.

Woo.

Whoa!

Woo!

Whoa–Woo–Whoa–Woo–Whoa–Woo.

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww…

My fame is fleeting.
I lived on the balcony.
Yes, I think you’ve seen my red door.

Yesterday was Purple Saturday. Guess Speedy was busy or forgot, because he didn’t have a post to remind me.

But, I had grapes in yesterday’s post. Those are purple. I think that counts for something.

Anyway, we’ll make it official with a Purple Sunday post. Plus, I didn’t have any other ideas. I was hoping that this January was going to beat January 2009 in terms of traffic, but that’s not going to happen. Last year, I had that surge in traffic from the Twitter phishing posts. Still, I was on track to beat last year, even without a big surge of traffic from anything. I did get some minor blips from the Late Night TV Battles, but that was nothing compared to the Twitter phishing traffic of last year.

And, this being a weekend, where traffic is normally lower than on the weekdays (I guess people must read blogs at work…), there’s probably not much chance of beating out last January. I would have to about double my normal weekend traffic. So, bummer.

Anyway, you’re probably wondering what’s in the photo. It is cauliflower. Purple cauliflower. Like Bond, James Bond. Only it’s cauliflower, purple cauliflower.

And, it’s real. I did not make it up. See?

For those that still don’t believe me, check it out on Wikipedia: Cauliflower. It’s purple because it has antioxidants. Still don’t believe me? Okay, then, maybe you’ll believe The Persnickety Palate: “Purple Cauliflower Eater.”

Now that we’ve established that I’m not making this up, get thee down to thy local grocery shoppe and get thyself one of these passionate purples of cauliflower and enjoy the hearty goodness of antioxidants without the brain killing alcohol of red wine. Not that I make any guarantees about the antioxidant strength or worthiness of the purple cauliflower, because I have no idea. But, you can eat all you want and not get drunk. So, you can still drive home afterwards.

Or operate heavy machinery.

Or get on Facebook without worrying about what kind of drunken messages you’ll leave your ex.

You’re on your own if you make purple cauliflower wine though…

You’re probably familiar with WTF, and what it stands for, which may be something not so family-friendly, depending upon how you’ve chosen to interpret it, if you’re interpreting it in a manner that differs from what it really means.

Well, there are plenty of alternatives for what it could mean. This include:

What? It’s Friday!?

What The Frak?

What The Fudge?

What’s That, Fudge?

Where’s The Fudge?

Who’s The Fool?

Where’s The Fridge?

What’s That, Friend?

Want The Fudge?

Who’s That Freak?

When’s The Frenzy?

What The Find!

Where’s The Frill?

Why The Fluff?

Watch This Fist!

Watch This, Friend.

Watch The Food!

Where’s The Food?

Where’s The Flood?

However, I am choosing to believe that it stands for “What the Flowchart!?”

I like that one.

You can even incorporate it into your everyday conversation.

“What the flowchart is that!?”

People will say, “Huh?”

And you reply, “WTF.”

People that are unfamiliar with the Internet will repeat, “Huh?”

And then you say, “It stands for What The Flowchart?”

Then they’ll be like, “Well, what is that supposed to mean? That doesn’t even make sense.”

And, then you’ll say, “It’s an Internet thing.”

And, then they’ll just shake their heads.

And then they’ll start texting “WTF” to their kids.

You might think that’s funny. But, it’s not. If their kids don’t know what WTF means, then they’ll now know that it stands for “What the Flowchart?” If their kids did know what it means, then they’ll think their parents are cool. Maybe.

Either way, win-win.

So, remember, WTF stands for What The Flowchart!? Spread the word. We can clean up the Internet one acronym at a time!

It is what it is until it’s not what it is. Then, it is something else. But, even then, it is still what it is, it’s just that it’s not what it was? But, is anything? Or anyone?

It is what it is, but will it be what it is or will it be what it was? It will be what it will be. Even if it won’t be anything at all.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

On to other things…

Got a spam today. Apparently, if I order a fancy watch today, it includes a free box. Wow. What a premium to offer. A free box. How much do you suppose it cost them for that? A quarter? Here, buy this $500 watch and we’ll give you a free box. You save a whole twenty-five cents!

You know, if I’m paying $500 for a watch, I don’t think saving a quarter on a box is a big selling point.

Maybe it’s a fancy box. Costs a whole dollar. Maybe it includes some cotton padding. Maybe two bucks for that. Whoa! You mean if I spend $500 on a watch, I can get this exclusive cotton-lined box for free? How exactly does that entice you to buy a watch? Free box!

Tell you what… If you’re that desperate for a box, forget the $500 watch! You can probably get a gross of fancy cotton-lined boxes for the $500. You’ll never be in need of a box again.

Unless you decide to start selling fake Rolex watches…

Which go for $129.99 according to a spam I just got while writing this. Well, maybe with a $129.99 watch, that free box is a good bonus… Er, wait… This spammer doesn’t offer me a free box with purchase.

I wonder how much they charge for their boxes? I’m thinking maybe they should team up with the other spammer. Get something going. Everybody gets a free box with their order of a fancy fake watch! Woohoo!

Except for those people that will only buy a fake Swatch. Those people just get their watch in a cheap paper bag stuffed with crumpled months-old newspapers.

Speaking of which, what happens when all the newspapers go Internet-only? Whatever will we line our birdcages with and pack our shipping goods? I guess you could stuff some Kindles and Nooks in there, but I don’t think they’ll do a very good job of keeping your glassware from getting broken.

I just got this eMail from a company that knows about my timeshare and can rent it out for me. Or sell it. They’ll do all the work, and I just collect the cash.

Sounds like a plan to me!

I think I’ll go with the renting option so that I can get a steady income. If I sell it, that’s just a one-time deal, you know? Plus, real estate is low these days, so best to hang on to it until it goes up in value.

You might think there’s a small flaw in my plan in that I don’t actually own a timeshare. But, this company says they know about it, so I’m thinking I must own a timeshare I don’t even know about. Cha-ching!

Do you know how many timeshares I don’t own? I bet there are a lot. And that means there are probably a lot that I don’t know I don’t own, which means I can make a ton of money renting them out, because if I don’t know I own a timeshare, then there is someone out there that doesn’t know they don’t own a timeshare and, if there’s one person that doesn’t know they don’t own a timeshare, there are probably many others that don’t know they don’t own a timeshare, which means that I might own a good number of timeshares I didn’t know I owned.

This company wouldn’t lie to me, right?

I’m going to be rich!

Have you ever thought what it would be like if we didn’t agree on words?

Sometimes, there’s a battle over what to call things. Some people think it should be called one thing and others another. Often, sooner or later, one will win out, though not necessarily the most logical.

Sometimes, it’s no big deal. Consider soda. Or cola. Or pop. Or soda pop. See? In different areas, it’s called different things. For the most part, we understand each other, but most stick with our preferences.

Can you imagine that happening in other areas? Consider the tree. Do you think, way back when, people argued what to call the parts of a tree? Maybe one group thought the green things should be called leaves, while the stuff on the trunk of the tree should be called bark. And then another group thought the stuff on the trunk of the tree should be called leaves and the green things called bark.

What if those two groups persisted with their preferences to this day?

One guy yells to his neighbor: “Can’t you get your dog to stop leaving!?”

The neighbor replies: “I did! He’s on a leash!”

The other guy yells back: “He’s still leaving!”

The neighbor replies: “No, he’s not! Can’t you hear him barking?”

The other guy yells back: “I wish he would bark. I wish you’d bark too!”

The neighbor replies: “Woof! Woof!”

There’s a lesson in there about communication and the importance of consistency in language. The bigger lesson is, of course, that you should be worried and afraid if your neighbor ever tells you your tree is barking.