For those who don’t know about this, you should read The Devil’s Panties, a really funny webcomic by Jennie Breeden. Once you get done laughing your ass off at the archives, check out her gaming comic too for a light-hearted look at LARPing (and not the kind you do with your tongue.)

If you scroll down a little bit farther, you will see this link: Vampire Comic Strip!

Now, some caution should be exercised here, because the hosting website is by far one of the most worthless bits of pretentious drivel I have ever seen (that I didn’t write myself). Worst part is, I know people in the vampire scene, and they will think it is the best thing ever (shudder). Regardless, if you want to exercise your love of all things Jennie, tunnel-vision down and just read the comic.

And if your cube-mates are rolling on the floor wheezing “hairball!!!”, now you know why.

Since my paycheck actually went through on a Saturday (the mind boggles at bank rules – for once, one went in my favor) I was able to run down to GeekMecca (AKA Fry’s) and grab a replacement power supply for Hyperion and resurrect the poor thing from the dead.

Has it really been two months?

Now I have the one tool I was waiting for to get some of the crap out of my at-home in-box. I need to burn some DVD’s, and I need to re-do my taxes from last year as it appears I have made an error. Ouch.

Taxes this year are going to be complicated and suckier than normal. For one, I will be getting three W-2 forms, even though I only worked two jobs. (When I started my last job, the Bossman was outsourcing the HR, which means my actual employer was someone else. Then he fired the outsource and brought it in-house, so one job = two employers of record. Oi.)

For two, the Ratboy worked, so the two of us will have to plot out who is claiming him, and three, I gotta ask the EMC who gets to claim Pookie this year.

Bleah. I have the creeping suspicion that I will be paying a pro this year, just to make sure I don’t fuck it up again.

Some of you may have noticed that I wasn’t here yesterday. Yes, it seems that there was a problem at the hosting site, something along the lines of “a server blew up”. It took them a few hours to get things up and running again. I of course noticed this just when I wanted to post something.

Sure, I could get pissy about this. While my normal response to such an occasion would be “those bastards!”, this marks the first and only problem I have had with my host in the four+ years I have been using them, and I’m on the hobby-site plan at only $10 a month. (Okay, they call it a ‘business plan’, but it’s the ‘lite’ version, trust me.)

Pretty good track record, if you ask me.

So, here’s to the fine folks at 1and1.com who so kindly rent me server space.

Overworked and Underf*cked has a great little post from the female perspective of what guys should keep in mind on those occasions they are lucky enough to get taken home by a lady for a loving, caring, 6-hour relationship. Most of these obviously go both ways, but there are, however, some things that us guys would like the lady to think about:

You’re going to have to give us directions. I’m a pretty experienced guy, but women are amazingly unique creatures with wildly differing tastes and triggers. If “ME FIRST!” is the rule, you gotta take the lead and direct the show.

If you don’t know exactly what it takes to make you see God, don’t be mad when he doesn’t either.

Know your cycle. If you’re within 2 days of starting, wait ’til you’re done before you go a-huntin’.

If you have latex allergies, provide your own choice of condoms and quietly point them out at the start of the festivities – by, say, casually opening the bedside drawer as you make for the bed.

If you haven’t done a “pat test” or checked his references, do not freak out / laugh at what you find / don’t find in his trousers. You should have checked.

Don’t falsely advertise! Okay, this is more of an everyday thing, but wouldn’t you feel short-changed if you found a cucumber in his trousers? We feel that way when those melons turn out to be a WunderBra propping up a pair of cherries. If you feel they are too small, go the opposite route and wear a thin top with no bra instead – some guys like ’em tiny, might as well advertise to the right crowd.

Just my tuppence.

As in, The Traditional After-Action / “What I got for Christmas” post.

Yes, there was loot to be had at Chez Wolfe this year, and the best kind it was.

Hand-made art from my daughter, complete with fingerprints, and the sight of her forsaking all of her other loot to play with the things I gave her. Not to mention a pair of movie tix so I can take Tolerant out to the show. (Anything playing Friday?)

Xmas morning with Ratboy – after I nearly beat him to get it ;) (It may not sound like much, but he assures me he gave up something near and dear to him to be there. You don’t need to know.)

Gamage from the Roomie and his lady in the form of our own personal cardboard-crack: “Super Munchkin” from Steve Jackson Games.

Phone calls from those far away – but me little brudder still owes me a call. He is understandably distracted at the moment though.

Saving the best for last (because she is the best): the “Ultimate Edition” DVD of Stargate because I am such a fanboy, clothing so I look my best (new work-type shirts), clothing to speak my mind with (a snarky T), a blanket to keep me warm (mmmm…chenille), and a most excellent new electric razor so she doesn’t have to nibble on a stubbly neck. (It’s only half as loud as its predecessor, so Ratty likes it too.)

I got love from my peeps, that’s what I got :)

So some of you may know about the IMMENSE amounts of junk email clogging the net lately. What you might not know is that those same assholes try to post crap in the comments systems of blogs like Yours Truly.

Normally, this isn’t too much of an issue for me, because A) this is not a hugely popular blog. B) I have some help in the form of my SpamKarma2 and Bad Behavior installations.

And boy, am I glad. SpamKarma2 reports that it has blocked 1889 spam comments in the last 72 hours.

Oi.

Convinced my bank to reverse an overdraft charge due to merchant error.

Spent a quiet afternoon with my daughter and my sweetie.

Had favorite friends over for a yummy ham dinner and movie and pie.

Read Shel Silverstein to my daughter before bed.

A cold glass of Nog while I blog.

These are a few of my favorite things.

Where you sit there, pile of gifts all around you to wrap, and you really start looking at them, all stacked up in their shiny boxes. You read the little descriptive notes on the back of the packages, imagining how your loved ones will react as they see them for the first time…

And you start to wonder if you got them the right thing at all. Doubt sneaks in on tiny feet and twitters about. “Maybe something else would have been a better idea.”

You read the package again, getting out the magnifier for the really small type. Doubt starts doing a jig across your brainpan.

“Huh. Wouldn’t you know it, this is really not going to work.” Done with his jig, Doubt steps aside for Decision to take the stage. “I really must take this back and try again.” You start to feel better about it. “Yes!” You nod to yourself. “I will take it back for a refund and try again!” Good for you, lad!

That’s when Fear creeps into the room. There’s something important that you’re missing, but you can’t quite get it. Your brow furrows as you begin to trace the decision tree, in search of this new Doubt. “What could this mean?”

Fear sidles up next to you, and lays a frozen claw at the base of your spine. Chills race up your back, and you break out into a cold, clammy sweat as Realization smacks you in the face with a large iron skillet:

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