Welcome to Black Friday.
While your very special “Words For Your Enjoyment” takes place over the course of fifty-two Fridays throughout the calendar year — it’s not too often that WFYE lands on a black day such as today. As a result of such details, the powers that be have decided to re-dub today’s WFYE as WFYBE (or Words For Your Black Enjoyment), which could possibly sound a bit racist when it is, in fact, really really funny.
Get it? Black Friday? Black Enjoyment!? (Don’t flame me, please.)
This week’s topic comes from web troublemaker Heather, who writes: “Hey Pauly…I was thinking today that the US Postal Service is highly unreliable, and in order for packages to reach you in a timely manner, you should create your own postal service. And I’m not talking about a band, either.”
Today was not only the wonderful holiday of Thanksgiving, but also the first time that WFME has been hacked.
After a tense hour of worrying about the fact that I didn’t have backups of my writing here and dealing with the wonderful people at Total Choice Hosting and my “breathing partner” Heather — I was able to bring the site back from it’s broken state, where trying to reach my site may have taken you to an unsavory DVD site involving, well, unsavory things.
So, if you tried to get here today and were surprised at where you ended up… Or you thought I may have let you down… Fear not. It was just the sad little WordPress plugin that I can no longer use (the subliminal one that convinces you I’m so damn funny) that was the reason for the security loophole.
WFME is back up and b3tt3R thAn 3v3R! (Okay, not better — but the same.)
(Update: This plugin may not have been the culprit after all, but something with my actual hosting service instead.)
This post has nothing to do with Thanksgiving.
But what it does have to do with is the fact that after I give you a present, you don’t thank me at all. You open the present, you say something like “Wow, that’s awesome!” and then you just move on to the next present from your huge pile of wrapped goodies without ever giving me the ego-stroke I deserve.
I mean, I went out of my way to get you that gift card or that coffee maker or that fruit cake or that electronic this or that technologically-advanced that and you just don’t thank me at all.
I like driving home for the holidays for two reasons.
First, it’s a bittersweet reunion for family members to catch up, spread cheer, embrace and celebrate all that is love and affection.
Secondly, it gives me the opportunity to make sure that while on the long drive home, I keep as many tailgaters from passing me by in a game I like to call, “No, I’m not the asshole, you’re the asshole, so don’t even try to pass me cause I’m not going to let you — I’ll just slow down until you try to move into the other lane then move into that other lane to keep you from ever making any progress and making it home to your family this holiday season.”
Here’s to you, DVD Jukebox Filler-Upper.
Here’s to the way you blindly purchase two 400 disc Sony DVD jukeboxes, without doing the research. Here’s to the way you envision a world without DVD boxes, freeing those gleaming discs from their dark, enclosed spaces and putting them into…a larger dark enclosed space. Here’s to how you go out and purchase a PC keyboard (blasphemy for a Mac user) so you can connect it to the DVD jukebox so you can type in 800 different DVD titles for the on-screen menu instead of hunting and pecking on a crappy ‘ol remote… Here’s to a nightmare I can’t wake up from.