Month: February 2005

Fresh Kilts!

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Today and possibly most of the weekend (we’ll see about that), I will be Utilikilt-vending at PantheaCon in San Jose. I actually, wonder of wonders, did find a reader who’s going. (Come ‘an give daddy a kiss, Sonja!). Not what I expected, but maybe she found me by accident via a google search. In any […]

Today and possibly most of the weekend (we’ll see about that), I will be Utilikilt-vending at PantheaCon in San Jose.

I actually, wonder of wonders, did find a reader who’s going. (Come ‘an give daddy a kiss, Sonja!). Not what I expected, but maybe she found me by accident via a google search.

In any case, I have no idea if this thing will be a somber, serious deal (which is what it sounds like from the web site), or if it will be more what I picture as a pagan revel. In either case, I’m always happy to sell kilts, get people out of their pants, and spread the word on kilted freedom.

I’m hoping I come home monday with interesting stories to tell. I usually, but not always, have them from kilt vending days. But I can tell you this much; I can resist anything but temptation. Temptation already got the better of me this week once, I ordered a one-of-a-kind (or very few of a kind) black Survival Kilt:

Survival-1

I called up Uncle Otto at the shop after seeing one of these few black Survivals in my stock for P-con, and got lucky. He had one, just one, in my size. And no more are being made in black. These are the kilts Richard Hatch wore (a little, when he wasn’t butt-naked) on the Survivor all-star show with my buddy Lex. Otto got this kilt into a second day air box and I’m awaiting it’s delivery as I type.

Temptation. My friend. My enemy. Don’t tempt me. Don’t dare me. I will. Some of you know it.

So I’ve got a new kilt to wear this weekend, and in a few minutes I’m going to load up my van with 300lbs of kilts, and head downtown. But first, one more cup of coffee, and where is that delivery guy?

Template Troubles

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I severely broke something in my templates. It’s been fixed now, mostly, though it still doesn’t render right in Safari, the browser I prefer. One or two /div tags in the wrong place and things go haywire, I tellya. Still working on it but it should be fixed for must of you.

I severely broke something in my templates. It’s been fixed now, mostly, though it still doesn’t render right in Safari, the browser I prefer.

One or two /div tags in the wrong place and things go haywire, I tellya.

Still working on it but it should be fixed for must of you.

A festival of Yoni

Karl ElvisLeave a comment

Ah, how do I love ErosBlog? Let me count the ways: MUST HAVE YONI! (Not at ALL work safe, but mouth-wateringly good) More Yoni! (Work safe until you click the links) It’s a tough job, Bacchus, but someone has to do it.

Ah, how do I love ErosBlog?

Let me count the ways:

MUST HAVE YONI! (Not at ALL work safe, but mouth-wateringly good)

More Yoni! (Work safe until you click the links)

It’s a tough job, Bacchus, but someone has to do it.

Categories: sex

Three Way — all the cool kids are doing it

Karl ElvisLeave a comment

Right, you think I mean… Silly. I just switched to a three-column layout for this blog, copying Austin Ray because he’s my bruddah and if he thinks it’s cool, I think it’s cool. Tell me if the rendering on this is all fucked up on your browser. I’ve tested it in Mozilla and Safari, and […]

Right, you think I mean…

Silly.

I just switched to a three-column layout for this blog, copying Austin Ray because he’s my bruddah and if he thinks it’s cool, I think it’s cool.

Tell me if the rendering on this is all fucked up on your browser. I’ve tested it in Mozilla and Safari, and in Firefox. Firefox and Mozilla may need a force relead (thats is, I think, hold down your shift key while you click reload). I think they cache teh css file. If it looks fucked up, try that and let me know if it’s still broke.

If you woke up…

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I found this in someone’s livejournal, and it made me giggle.      If you woke up and I was in bed with you, what would be your first thought? So, you know, tell me. What would it be? Those of you who have actually woken up in bed with me need not answer, and-you-know-who-you-are.

I found this in someone’s livejournal, and it made me giggle.

     If you woke up and I was in bed with you, what would be your first thought?

So, you know, tell me. What would it be?

Those of you who have actually woken up in bed with me need not answer, and-you-know-who-you-are.

Whackity Spankity

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The title of this entry is from something Kenny used to say when describing self-indulgent soloing in bands we went to see. The kind of playing that’s all about the player and his ego, not about the song or the band or what belongs there. He’d describe the guitar solos as “so much widdly-woo” (Which […]

The title of this entry is from something Kenny used to say when describing self-indulgent soloing in bands we went to see. The kind of playing that’s all about the player and his ego, not about the song or the band or what belongs there.

He’d describe the guitar solos as “so much widdly-woo” (Which he’d illustrate my miming Eddie Van Halen type two-hand playing on the fretboard, coupled with the sound effect “Widdly-widdly-widdly-widdly-wooooooooo”), and the bass flash everyone was doing 15 years back, funk-inspired finger and thumb popping, he’d describe as “whackity-spankity”.

The phrases are still in my head; several of us still say “yeah, yeah, widdly-woo” about over-blown guitar solos. But I also still say “whackity-spankity” all the time, not always remembering what the origin of the phrase was.

Anyway, the point of this was that I just changed my sitemeter settings and I’m seeing a lot more of the google search based hits on this site. The funny thing is how many I get from the words spanking and spanking art.

And I’m not even a big spanko.

Truly funny. I feel like I should be writing about spanking to try and live up to this, so people who cruise by here looking for spank-porn don’t walk away disappointed.

Not that I’m adverse to dealing a good, sound spanking. C’mon over and I’ll show you. I love it when my hand stings too much to go on any more. But you know, that’s just not high on my particular list of fetishes and perversions.

Bet you dollars to fucking donuts though, this entry gets me another several dozens hits from google searches.

TC’s website updated

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My favorite crazy-rocker-jewery-maker, Tony Creed, just updated his website. It renders correctly on Safari now (Yay!), and he’s got some new jewelry. I love this guy’s work. I really need another piece by him but I can’t decide which one. I’m terribly fond of this, but there are a bunch of others I’m tempted by. […]

My favorite crazy-rocker-jewery-maker, Tony Creed, just updated his website.

It renders correctly on Safari now (Yay!), and he’s got some new jewelry.

I love this guy’s work. I really need another piece by him but I can’t decide which one. I’m terribly fond of this, but there are a bunch of others I’m tempted by. Though I need to hold off a bit; there are too many other skull rings I want, including one from CrazyPig, and the Clapton skull which I hope to get any day now.

Anyway, if you’re looking for something unique and custom, talk to Tony. He’s my kind of madman.

The Resume, or Lies about Me

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I’m helping a friend with her resume, and I’m once again reminded of what an absurd game resume-writing is. I can’t recall the last time I got really serious about writing a resume. My job now, I was hired because I knew a guy and the resume and interview process were a walk-through. I updated […]

I’m helping a friend with her resume, and I’m once again reminded of what an absurd game resume-writing is.

I can’t recall the last time I got really serious about writing a resume. My job now, I was hired because I knew a guy and the resume and interview process were a walk-through. I updated what I had handy, re-wrote the first bit to line up with the job and handed it in.

The thing is, a resume is an artful (if you’re good or hire well) combination of lies and marketing crap. You take what you’re good at, add in what you sort of know that sounds good, mix in a few quantifiable achievements, avoid your fuck-ups, and then write it in a stupid, awkward, artificial language that no one actually uses in real life.

Results-driven
Self-starting
Committed to

It’s so deeply artificial. And yet, a good resume can land you an interview, a bad one will land on the floor unless you have some particular skill everyone needs.

It’s different when you have a very specific technical skill to offer. I mean, Lumberjack, we all know what your job is, you don’t really have to say much. I cut down trees. I eat my lunch. I go to the lavatory. On Wednesdays I go shoppin’ And have buttered scones for tea. But for most of us with a range of possibly-applicable skills, looking for a job those might fit to, it’s a game.

Read more “The Resume, or Lies about Me”

So much for hockey season

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There goes hockey season. That link is to a good article by Dan Wetzel about why; corporate greed, over-expansion. Loss of tradition in the NHL. It’s a drag. San Jose is now a hockey town. It wasn’t when I was growing up, but the Sharks are San Jose’s team. No, we don’t have the century […]

There goes hockey season.

That link is to a good article by Dan Wetzel about why; corporate greed, over-expansion. Loss of tradition in the NHL.

It’s a drag. San Jose is now a hockey town. It wasn’t when I was growing up, but the Sharks are San Jose’s team. No, we don’t have the century of hockey tradition they have in Canada, in some back-east cities. And I’ve only just discovered hockey in the last couple years. It’s a sport you have to go see live, TV doesn’t do it justice. Maybe that’s the problem right there.

“It starts with commissioner Gary Bettman, the most hapless, hopeless executive in sports, who in 13 years in charge of the NHL has succeeded in little more than driving the once-proud league right into the grave.

It moves onto a collection of owners who care little about the game, about the fans, about the tradition – franchise killers such as Bill Wirtz in Chicago who care only about bottom line.

They (and their stooge Bettman) pursued reckless expansion for the sake of franchise fees, never taking time to realize it was a recipe for disaster. They (and their stooge Bettman) priced out families in pursuit of corporations. They (and their stooge Bettman) showed an utter lack of understanding for the sport, allowing neutral-zone traps, oversized goalie equipment and bear-hug defenses to suck the excitement out of the rink.”

I was planning to take my eleven-year-old daughter to a game for her birthday this season. We were gonna get seats against the glass. Now — who knows. Who knows if it’ll be back, if it’ll be the same.