(Well, other than the obvious reason that it is not the Fafblog... speaking of which, thank goodness the Fafblog is back! Lordy, how we missed you. We tried to keep a light on for you, Fafblog. Sure, it was a 10 watt bug bulb with a blob of paint on one side, from that summer Grandpa tried to paint the back porch after he quit drinking, but still. We did the best we could.)

I dread this... but it is necessary.

And let me first say that I, for one, appreciate some of you either stepping up and taking responsibility for the unseemly tone of this blog, or dishing the blame out and throwing your loved ones under the bus. You're troopers. Stalwarts. Princes and/or Princesses among Men and/or Women. You really are. But it's time to pay the piper, my friends. It's time to give the devil his due. Time to clear the air... fry the bacon... rinse the vegetables... raid the medicine cabinet. Time to slice the fruitcake, and face the music.

It's my fault. Yes. I'm the rotten apple, the bad seed. The Judas, if you will. Well, the non-flowering Judas. But Judas, nonetheless. I'm the reason why this blog is not the best blog!

I suppose I should just go ahead and say it.

I've always been a gymnosperm.

When I was a kid (or more accurately a smallish tree), while all the popular angiosperm kids (likewise trees... don't get bogged down here, gentle reader) were budding and flowering and smelling nice and forming their various types of edible fruiting bodies -- there I was... all green and sappy and woody and prickly. Standing in the corner, usually. And while they swayed lithely in the breeze... well I'd just sort of rustle a little. Sometimes I'd drop a few dry needles, and hear their hushed snickers. I still hear those snickers today... oh, how they echo in my dreams. My nightmares!

Then later -- in the winter, when all the popular kids (trees again) had shed their brightly colored leaves and were standing there, beautiful and slim and naked in the silvery light and cold air of morning -- well there I stood, squat and frumpy in my corner, still just as green and sappy and woody and prickly as I'd been in the spring. I never fit in! I never changed! I felt like a freak I tell you..... a changeless, evergreen freak!

There was only one thing that got me through those years. I had a secret... a small, happy secret... and somehow, it helped me to endure all the ridicule, the ceaseless automotive air-freshener jokes and not-so-subtle pine-sol references. It's a secret I've never told anyone. But I'm going to tell it to you... because we're friends here, aren't we? Aren't we?

This is hard.

Sometimes... sometimes..... yes! Yes! Sometimes, in the silent darkness of the blackest moonless winter night I would do it! Er, you know.... DO it.

Spontaneously, and with wild abandon, I'd go into a furious cone-forming frenzy! I would! I would cone-form to beat the dang band! And I liked it!!! It felt GOOD! And I still do it! I did it a couple of months ago! And I'll do it again!

There! I said it. Now you know the truth.

Judge me if you must.

I don't know if this is some kinda Leap Day joke or something, but we're gonna all close our eyes, and whoever took all the black ink can just put it back, and there won't be any trouble. Or heartache.

Looks like my site is down. Not this one, obviously, but the one where many of the images for IMF,S! are stored. Ironically, my web hosting company's motto is, "Always Up, Fast and Easy." One out of three, it turns out, is pretty bad.

In any case, sorry about the mess. We can only hope things will be back to normal soon.

Wait a minute, the internet isn't stored on satellites is it? (By the way did you notice we now have the demonstrated ability to blast satellites out of the sky? See what we did there, Russia/China?)

It's already been a jam packed week and it's only Wednesday!

February 3 -- Sunday ended up being Stupor Bowl Sunday when Our Forefathers failed to vanquish mythological monsters, the Giants, in the most unamerican football result ever. Sunday was also the anniversary of the infamous Blogroll Amnesty Day, which we will mark now, three days late, by simply noting that here at I Miss Fafblog, Spot we employ a blogroll policy similar to the "liberal blogrolling policy" of Jon Swift: We notice you linking to IMFB,S - we add your link to the rolls. Simple. Long live the cause of discovering and promoting fellow "small blogs!"

February 4 -- Monday was an entire day set aside for It wasn't Just a Bad Dream, the Patriots Really Did Lose the Stupor Bowl angst.

February 5 -- Yesterday was Fat Tuesday, and I made it through the entire day without lifting up my shirt and throwing necklaces of plastic beads at adoring spectators. Yesterday also ended up being Stupid Tuesday by virtue of the vast amount of shameless pandering and soul-selling necessary to fuel multiple presidential campaigns. It was also Day of Shame, the anniversary of Colin Powell's presentation of the "evidence" of the (grave and gathering) "threat" to "The Homeland" as posed by "Iraq." But take heart, I'm told Jar Jar Binks hasn't yet been called upon to deliver his similar speech. Yet.

February 6 -- Up here in my neck of the woods, today is Ronald Reagan Day! More for the visuals than the soundtrack, (though it is a pretty cool tune,) here is a video to commemorate the occasion:



Is it anything else today?