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500

12 May

May 12, 2011

Although WordPress says this is my 500th blog that may not be quite true. Like many of the Jewish High Holy Days, the exact date of my 500th post is not certain.

To be sure, this is my 500th post on WordPress. However, Mr. Blog’s Tepid Ride started on MySpace in 2006 and in 2009 I moved all of my old posts here. Actually, I moved most of my old posts here. Here is where the trouble starts.

Out of about 247 blogs I only moved around 200 of them. The others I left behind because they were too personal, too serious, or more often than not, just not funny. (What didn’t make the cut? Well, a list of the songs in my iPod for one. Hey, they can’t all be winners.) I still have them on my hard drive and a huge printout so they still exist, just not on WordPress. And they count because they were published and read under the Mr. Blog’s Tepid Ride banner. Simple enough, right?

Wrong. When I moved the old blogs I split some of them in two. For example, my reviews of Terminator: Salvation and Star Trek originally appeared together in the same post. Other blogs I didn’t republish in full and only excerpted, sometimes, again, in separate blogs. So I wrote more posts than appear here, but I also wrote less than appear here.

Further confusing the issue is the fact that I printed some posts that already appeared here a second time as either a Flashback! classic or a Classic Repost. So the number of blog posts went up but the number of actual posts stayed the same.

I’ll make it worse. I did a series of reposts from Skinner.fm, now Flash Pulp and those contained no original work from me at all. I also did two features on the art of Michael Mongello. While I did make an original header image and just a touch of writing, by and large I can’t take credit for those, so blog post count goes up, actual blog number stays the same. Again.

And to makes more confusing, there is one blog counted that was read grand total of three times before I made it private, never to be seen again. Except by me. That blog caused me enough trouble, thank you very much. Since I never deleted it and it still exists on WordPress it is part of the 500.

So there you go. With the blogs that drive the number up and the blogs that drive the number down more or less balancing each other out, I say to Hell with it, let’s go with the number I see when I look at the stats.

500 it is.

If you do the math you must wonder way a blog that started in 2006 is just now hitting 500 posts. In the beginning this was a once a week blog, then it slowly grew and grew to become the monster that takes up too much of my time that you see today. This blog is and always was a one-man show. Everything from the background image to the posts are all mine. The exception is the wonderful Mike Monge header you see atop for the 500th post.

I could get silly and all “what does 500 mean to me?” but I won’t. I could bore you with stats and tell you that the word “unexpurgated” never appeared in my blog but “shit” clocks in at 135. I could go behind the scenes and tell you that all The Tepid Zombie blogs more or less do the same “voodoo man” and “eat brain” jokes or I could tell you that out of the original five readers of this blog in 2006 only one still has a subscription.

I won’t go down that road.

I simply want to take the time to thank a few people with the only thanks that count- plugs.

First, Jim and Relic Radio. Jim is master of OTR, old time radio. You can find his fantastic collection of vintage radio shows on iTunes, and it was on the amazing Relic Radio forum that a casual mention of “I once had a blog on MySpace” burgeoned into the mess I run today. (But don’t hold that against him.) Jim is a great guy and all of the forum members bring something special to his site.

There are some fantastic people on those forums, like Janece, whose quote graces the “raves” sidebar of Mr. Blog’s Tepid Ride, and Peter (Jello Again!) Church, actor extraordinaire who dabbles in his own Radio’s Revenge podcast.

They are not the only creative types you’ll meet there. People like Matt Cowen of Vintage Horror (which has expanded my reading list to no end) and Mac, musician extraordinaire hang out there. “Musician extraordinaire” doesn’t scratch the surface of Mac. Meet him the forum and see for yourself, and read the bio of me on this very site. Mac generously wrote it.

JRD Skinner needs more eloquent words than I have to describe. I am not sure if I admire more his Flash Pulp fiction or his ability to post up to five or six times each day. As he’d be the first to tell you, he can’t do it alone, and his partners in pulp Jessica May and Opoponax deserve thanks and praise from me as well. In all honestly, I’ve always secretly believed that they are the power behind the throne.

If you’ve peeked at the header above you’ve seen the amazing work of the bacon-loving . Mike Mongello. I’ve dedicated a couple of pages to his work here and never fail to wonder how the heck he does it. He doesn’t swipe, that’s for sure.

I need to thank those who frequently comment here as well. They keep the conversation going and keep it interesting as well. The well-travelled TEStazyk  and Allen Keyes get my grateful thanks.

The Hook has a site that needs to be read to be believed. The things he puts up with on his job may test his patience but they make great reading.

And last of all, thank you.

Facebook links
Mike Mongello
Jessica May
The Savage Opoponax
JRD Skinner (CEO of Skinner Co.)
Flash Pulp
Relic Radio
Jim Paul
Matt Cowen
Peter Church

Twitter links
Jessica May
Opoponax
JRD Skinner
Relic Radio
Jim Paul (RetroJims)
Peter Church (Radio’s Revenge)

Websites
Relic Radio
Flash Pulp
Radio’s Revenge
Vintage Horror
Mac of BIOnight

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Mr. Know-It-All: Leave Me Alone

12 May

May 12, 2011

Crap. I gotta write? Jeez, Mr. Know-It-All doesn’t write when you tell him to write, he writes when he’s sober enough, which ain’t too often. But I need the money so I’ll try to clear the fog in my brain and ignore the dull thudding ache in my balls long enough to come up with some shit.

And speaking of shit, here’s Dear Abby, who for the first time in her miserable life gets one right.

DEAR ABBY: My husband, “James,” constantly tells me he loves me, but I don’t think I love him. I’m sure most women would love having a man tell them he loves them all the time, but it drives me up a wall. If I walk into a room, James says he loves me. If I leave the room, he says it again. The words have lost their meaning for me, but if I don’t respond in kind, James thinks I’m mad at him. I am emotionally exhausted from having to constantly reassure him. If I try to discuss anything serious, he cries, and that just turns my stomach. I’m not an uncaring, unfeeling person. I’m very emotional, but when a man cries it makes me uncomfortable.

Please don’t suggest counseling. James is a pastor who would want to go to a Christian counselor. That makes me uneasy because he knows all the ones around here. We don’t have much money and no insurance. If I ask for a divorce, it will end his career.

Divorce is not an option for many people, but I don’t want to wake up one morning and realize I have lived my entire life putting myself second. Abby, when is it OK to say this isn’t working? — MISERABLE IN THE MIDWEST

DEAR MISERABLE: Say it now, while there may still be a chance to save your marriage. It is crucial that you find the money you need for nondenominational couples therapy with a licensed professional. Your husband needs to overcome insecurities that may stem from the fact that he feels you becoming increasingly distant, or that may have originated in his youth. And you need to control the impulse to shut down when your husband expresses emotions that make you uncomfortable.

HAH! Finally the old broad gets it! It is the wife’s fault! It is ALWAYS the wife’s fault! Damn pain-in-the-ass-never-cooks-a-decent-meal-always-hides-her-cash-never-willing-to-do-it-in-front-of-the-dog-never-shuts-up-keeps-fighting-with-the-pimp-can’t-stop-trying-to-get-me-to-stop-drinking-shooting-up-autoerotic-masturbating-or-I’ll-kill-myself-wife! Leave me alone bitch! If I wanted someone always on my back I’d have stayed in Cleveland with that tranny who sold me the bad pills. Damn straight I’m not paying for that! What did you put in those things, TNT? I was lying in that puddle for ten hours! Got freakin’ frostbite in my balls, it was so cold, you want me to pay you for that? And what about the crabs you gave me? Shit, maybe I only got one working kidney but I still know what the price of black tar is in Vietnam.

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DEAR ABBY: I am an over-50 “cougar” who has a boyfriend who’s not happy with my looks. He loves all the other aspects of our relationship, but he wants me thinner and prettier. I’ll never look 30 again. What do you think I should do? — BARB IN RENO

Barbarino, I think the problem here is that America doesn’t have a consistent, comprehensive cougar policy. Cougars are usually from about 28-40, 45 max. 50 is pushing it, and when a woman says she’s “over-50” she really means about 68. Give up. You’re not a cougar, you’re some sort of mangy prairie dog.

What I think you should do is shut up and leave me alone.

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DEAR ABBY: I’m a married woman with single and married male friends. I go out for lunches and dinners with all of them. Some live out of state and we email often. I also have outings with female pals, some of whom are lesbians. “Illinois” needs to figure out why he doesn’t trust his wife and his good friend. My husband socializes without me as well. He even goes to lunch sometimes with an old girlfriend. Either you trust your partner or you don’t. — SECURE AND HAPPY IN CALIFORNIA

WHOA WHOA WHOA! Married woman going out with her lesbian friends? Yeah, I’ve seen movies like that. You know why your husband trusts you? He doesn’t. He just says he does so you will trust him. Going out to lunch with an old girlfriend? He’s banging the shit out of her, you idiot.

Mr. Know-It-All would like to join your next “lunch.” I’ve got lube, a camcorder, and a penis pump. I know how to please a lesbian. They don’t call me Fish Fingers for nothing.

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DEAR ABBY: I had an affair a few years ago that lasted a lot longer than it should have. It ended when my lover, “John,” died unexpectedly. The kicker is I was — and still am — married. For the last two years I had wanted to end the relationship, but I couldn’t find the courage to do it on my own. My question is, should I feel guilty for feeling glad that John is dead? I’m glad the affair is finally over, but I feel guilty that death is what ended it and that I didn’t have the courage to end it myself. — CONFLICTED IN SANTA ROSA

What the fuck? Let me read that again.

You were married. You had an affair. You wanted to end the affair but didn’t. The guy died. You are happy but also guilty for feeling happy. Jeez, this is Doctor Phil shit. Unless you’re the one that killed the guy forget it. You are already going to Hell so who gives a crap how you feel? You’re going to burn for eternity anyway. End of conflict.

That’s it, Mr. Know-It-All has reached the end. Not the end of the column, the end of his bottle of gin and antifreeze. I can’t get through a single word of this column without it. I drink enough and I go blind for a couple of hours, pass out, and have no short term memory of writing any of this. OK, things are getting dim, I’m going to crawl under my desk and die.

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