What is a trackbackping?

I've been punished for my June blog entry entitled "bad bad bad."  All sorts of dirty sites pinged that entry, which falls under the category of penance.  It is a little disturbing, since I had been blogging about my dad.  How did this particular assembly of dirty sites find my blog?  Why did they choose this entry?

Do I need to delete these dirty-site trackback pings?  Or, will said pings allow my blog to finally appear on google?  Is google anti-dirty-site?  Are you anti-dirty-site?

What does one do with one's trackbackpings?  Allow them to exist?  What does one do when one's been looped into a ring of porn?

Don't believe the pings - I am not a hermaphrodite, nor am I into scat.

I am into snails and diseases, but not in a sexy sort of way.

Following that less sexy note, here is one of my favorite fishes from the aquarium, a Parrotfish:

Here is another of my favorite fishes.  He is a frogfish.  He looks like a sponge, on purpose.

Today, as a special incentive to trackback pingers, I will show you two frogfishes for the price (zero dollars) of one:

The aquarium website tells me the following nice things about frogfish:

They are cannibals.

They have those fishing pole thingies growing out of their heads, which they use to trick other fish into hanging out around their mouths.

They devour their prey so quickly that the other fishes and things can't even see it happen.  This helps with their whole, "I'm a rock/I'm a sponge/I'm a piece of coral."

It seems that, with most frogfish, the male takes care of the egg raft until all the baby frogfishes hatch.  Sometimes, though, the girls do it.  Sometimes.

If you'd like to know more about frogfishes, you should go to the aquarium website.  Since I am now linked to a webring of porn, I'm reticent to put the name of the aquarium on here, or even a link.  I will tell you this - it is in the city of wind, named after onions, on a great lake.  I highly recommend the fact sheets on the various fishes.

If you'd like to know more about all sorts of porn categories, check out my trackbackpings, in the June archives. 

If you're into Japanese tentacle hentai, perhaps you should check out both.

Finally, here's one of my other favorite things from the aquarium - the Pacific Longspine Urchin:

He points his venemous spines at any possible predator.  If you get spined by him, you will have to have it surgically removed.

I don't think those are real eyes - I think they are tricks - although he can detect changes in light.  If you know more about this urchin, please contact me immediately.  Thank you.

I've decided to make the Pacific Longspine Urchin my new boyfriend.  He reminds me of someone, something from the 1980's.  Is it someone from a video game?  Anyway, I might totally make out with him, or at least carry a picture of him in my wallet.  He's much cuter than my mom's dead gallbladder (please see April archives).

No offense, my mom's dead gallbladder.

I bought a webpage.  Jennifer Beck and I made a movie for it.

You can look.  It might tie up your computer, though, for a couple of minutes.  If you have dial-up, stay away.  There are some very big files.

blankbaby

If you are my mom, you might not like it, so maybe, don't look.  I will just tell you about it, instead.

Here is our movie poster:

I couldn't help it.  I bought a new snail tank.  I mean, I have the other snail tank, the one I took apart, but I bought a new one, a tiny one.

It is beautiful, no?  There's even an upper platform that'd be perfect for a few hundred snail eggs...

First, this Public Service Announcement:

Lunesta wants to make out with you.  It totally wants to do it with you while you are sleeping.  "Just climb into bed, and leave the rest to Lunesta."  Watch out for a glowing butterfly.  Don't leave any windows open.  And, should you see it, do not let it in, no matter how sultrily it floats in the warm air outside your bedroom window.

Today has been a momentous day; today, I took apart the dead baby snail tank.

This means something.  Some shift has occurred.  I am moving on.

My hands are cut from the gravel, which I hand sifted, looking for anything that could possibly be a baby snail.

Last night, I dreamt that I was clearing out the baby snail tank.  I found small, round, crystalline balls in the shape of baby snails, like frosted blown glass.  After the tank was nearly empty, after I had given up hope of finding a living, breathing snail, I found one.  It had a brown shell and a face.  It smiled at me with its face, and I felt, at last, that I was at peace with the souls of the baby snails.  That we had been collectively redeemed.

In the real world, while sifting the gravel, I did begin to find strange, crystalline balls in the shape of tiny snails.  I became excited for the moment when I would find the snail with the face.

I considered whether I would contract some sort of snail bacteria or virus, since my hands were soaking in the dregs for almost two hours, searching, hoping, looking for the snail with the face.  I wondered how it would feel to be ground zero for the next pandemic - not avian but molluska. 

A drop of tank water splashed into my left eye.

I never found a snail with a face.

Tomorrow, I will throw away the table that the tank has been sitting on.  I would prefer that corner of my apartment to be bare, fresh.  I always hated that table anyway.

I am saving the tank.  You never know who will lay eggs next.

Will you be laying eggs anytime soon?  Would you like to keep them in my ten gallon tank?  I must offer up this disclaimer, affixed as a placard to the front of my tank:  Abandon hope all ye who lay eggs here.

Still, though.  If you wanna.  Maybe I will miss the disappointment, the dashed hopes, the decaying dreams of watching the hatchlings grow.

The snails were having sex again today, so if you want to lay eggs for my tank, act quickly.

Thank you.  Goodnight. 

ps - why isn't the federal government saving those people in those cities?  where is, like, the army, with, like, all its army helicopters and hummers and things?  maybe Art Bell will have the answers for me.

Maybe Art Bell would like to lay eggs in my ten gallon tank.

Art Bell, would you or someone from your show like to lay eggs in my ten gallon tank?

What is a trackbackping?

I've been punished for my June blog entry entitled "bad bad bad."  All sorts of dirty sites pinged that entry, which falls under the category of penance.  It is a little disturbing, since I had been blogging about my dad.  How did this particular assembly of dirty sites find my blog?  Why did they choose this entry?

Do I need to delete these dirty-site trackback pings?  Or, will said pings allow my blog to finally appear on google?  Is google anti-dirty-site?  Are you anti-dirty-site?

What does one do with one's trackbackpings?  Allow them to exist?  What does one do when one's been looped into a ring of porn?

Don't believe the pings - I am not a hermaphrodite, nor am I into scat.

I am into snails and diseases, but not in a sexy sort of way.

Following that less sexy note, here is one of my favorite fishes from the aquarium, a Parrotfish:

Here is another of my favorite fishes.  He is a frogfish.  He looks like a sponge, on purpose.

Today, as a special incentive to trackback pingers, I will show you two frogfishes for the price (zero dollars) of one:

The aquarium website tells me the following nice things about frogfish:

They are cannibals.

They have those fishing pole thingies growing out of their heads, which they use to trick other fish into hanging out around their mouths.

They devour their prey so quickly that the other fishes and things can't even see it happen.  This helps with their whole, "I'm a rock/I'm a sponge/I'm a piece of coral."

It seems that, with most frogfish, the male takes care of the egg raft until all the baby frogfishes hatch.  Sometimes, though, the girls do it.  Sometimes.

If you'd like to know more about frogfishes, you should go to the aquarium website.  Since I am now linked to a webring of porn, I'm reticent to put the name of the aquarium on here, or even a link.  I will tell you this - it is in the city of wind, named after onions, on a great lake.  I highly recommend the fact sheets on the various fishes.

If you'd like to know more about all sorts of porn categories, check out my trackbackpings, in the June archives. 

If you're into Japanese tentacle hentai, perhaps you should check out both.

Finally, here's one of my other favorite things from the aquarium - the Pacific Longspine Urchin:

He points his venemous spines at any possible predator.  If you get spined by him, you will have to have it surgically removed.

I don't think those are real eyes - I think they are tricks - although he can detect changes in light.  If you know more about this urchin, please contact me immediately.  Thank you.

I've decided to make the Pacific Longspine Urchin my new boyfriend.  He reminds me of someone, something from the 1980's.  Is it someone from a video game?  Anyway, I might totally make out with him, or at least carry a picture of him in my wallet.  He's much cuter than my mom's dead gallbladder (please see April archives).

No offense, my mom's dead gallbladder.

I made you something

I bought a webpage.  Jennifer Beck and I made a movie for it.

You can look.  It might tie up your computer, though, for a couple of minutes.  If you have dial-up, stay away.  There are some very big files.

blankbaby

If you are my mom, you might not like it, so maybe, don't look.  I will just tell you about it, instead.

Here is our movie poster:

o, tank

I couldn't help it.  I bought a new snail tank.  I mean, I have the other snail tank, the one I took apart, but I bought a new one, a tiny one.

It is beautiful, no?  There's even an upper platform that'd be perfect for a few hundred snail eggs...

Goodbye, sweet stinking tank of snails that never were.

First, this Public Service Announcement:

Lunesta wants to make out with you.  It totally wants to do it with you while you are sleeping.  "Just climb into bed, and leave the rest to Lunesta."  Watch out for a glowing butterfly.  Don't leave any windows open.  And, should you see it, do not let it in, no matter how sultrily it floats in the warm air outside your bedroom window.

Today has been a momentous day; today, I took apart the dead baby snail tank.

This means something.  Some shift has occurred.  I am moving on.

My hands are cut from the gravel, which I hand sifted, looking for anything that could possibly be a baby snail.

Last night, I dreamt that I was clearing out the baby snail tank.  I found small, round, crystalline balls in the shape of baby snails, like frosted blown glass.  After the tank was nearly empty, after I had given up hope of finding a living, breathing snail, I found one.  It had a brown shell and a face.  It smiled at me with its face, and I felt, at last, that I was at peace with the souls of the baby snails.  That we had been collectively redeemed.

In the real world, while sifting the gravel, I did begin to find strange, crystalline balls in the shape of tiny snails.  I became excited for the moment when I would find the snail with the face.

I considered whether I would contract some sort of snail bacteria or virus, since my hands were soaking in the dregs for almost two hours, searching, hoping, looking for the snail with the face.  I wondered how it would feel to be ground zero for the next pandemic - not avian but molluska. 

A drop of tank water splashed into my left eye.

I never found a snail with a face.

Tomorrow, I will throw away the table that the tank has been sitting on.  I would prefer that corner of my apartment to be bare, fresh.  I always hated that table anyway.

I am saving the tank.  You never know who will lay eggs next.

Will you be laying eggs anytime soon?  Would you like to keep them in my ten gallon tank?  I must offer up this disclaimer, affixed as a placard to the front of my tank:  Abandon hope all ye who lay eggs here.

Still, though.  If you wanna.  Maybe I will miss the disappointment, the dashed hopes, the decaying dreams of watching the hatchlings grow.

The snails were having sex again today, so if you want to lay eggs for my tank, act quickly.

Thank you.  Goodnight. 

ps - why isn't the federal government saving those people in those cities?  where is, like, the army, with, like, all its army helicopters and hummers and things?  maybe Art Bell will have the answers for me.

Maybe Art Bell would like to lay eggs in my ten gallon tank.

Art Bell, would you or someone from your show like to lay eggs in my ten gallon tank?