Seems like you can have a perfect pool or bowl of Cheerios and someone’s always got to come along and piss in it. Last night I get an email notification that someone had left comments on this site in my galleries, so I logged in to see what was said. I was left wondering why this person even bothered. The comments weren’t going to get to stay up there. I removed them and set the requirements for commenting to members only. I figure only my friends are going to care about pictures of my friends anyway.

A lot of sites I respect don’t allow comments, since the vast majority of them are poorly written and usually asinine. On my first journal I stopped writing because of the comments that were left by one unknown person. My second I decided to not even bother with them. Usually they are too difficult to monitor and keep spam free to be worth it.

I’m not going to say what was said, other than I am pretty sure I know who left it, and if this person had even the smallest amount of courage the email address would have been valid. As it is, I do have the IP of the computer used to leave the comment, and it wouldn’t be that hard to track this person down, but I’m not going to bother. I just may join those other sites that don’t allow comments.

I am the type of person who can literally forget his own birthday. I’ve done it. I pretty much remember two dates out of the year. Christmas and Halloween. But my girlfriend insists I remember her birthday. It’s only one extra day, and I thought I could do it. I sat around repeating it until I thought I had it. I set an iCal event, and created it on my personal calendar at work so my BlackBerry would remind me, and I figured I was golden.

After all, even if I forgot the date I wouldn’t miss the date, right? Make sense? It does to me. This is pretty much the only way I can remember things like this.

Then she and I were sitting around talking, or more accurately, lying around talking. And she brought it up. And I said, “It’s the 29th, just like Bruce Willis.” I ended up being half right. I would have been better off had I shut up instead of incorrectly guessing. I could have then snuck away, looked at my iCal, and all would have been well with the world. But since it’s the 19th and not the 29th I decided to do something to have a daily reminder. So I stole a countdown clock from a former co-worker (to be fair I’m pretty sure that’s what he put it out there for). Anyway, you can see the clock to the left there. It’s roughly 34 days, 5 hours, and 27 minutes until her birthday. If I forget again, I figure I’ll get it tattooed on the back of my hand (even though she hates tattoos).

The worst part of this whole thing is I have been sending Bruce his card late all these years!

All the time I get mail addressed to “Dear Christ…” I guess this just means my full name is too long. Every time I see this on Amazon though, it makes me want to log out thinking, No. No I’m not.

Jingle bells, jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg, the Batmobile lost a wheel, and the Joker passed away-hey!

I’ve got nothing.

Sometimes when something like this happens I get personally bummed out. Not this time. It’s sad for sure, but this actor just didn’t mean that much to me. I enjoyed some of his movies, had no desire to see others, and never really cared that much about the actor. He was always just a placeholder for a character to me.

Oh well, it’s stupid and idiotic.