Series finale of The Show with Ze Frank

Today, Ze Frank will air the final episode of his much beloved Show.

I will miss it very much 😦

Ze’s site has long been my favorite time killer — my own personal pick for “Best site in all the internets.”  It started from that very first instructional video he produced, How to Dance Properly. 

His site back then was just a simple black page with a couple of videos. But, as his popularity grew, he began adding more and more stuff. Nothing spectacular really. Just stuff. First, it was stuff to read. Then, he began making little application-like stuff.

A lot of it made me laugh. A lot of it was just cool, creative, unique … stuff.

Then the stuff became more interactive. He began asking for participation in projects. The first one I remember is the Letter Project. Then there was the When Office Supplies Attack project, which I loved.

The Show began airing one year ago. It was just him … talking about stuff. It’s a little difficult to explain what’s so special about it … why it’s not just a video blog. But, I understand it has a daily audience of about 20,000 – 30,000 people, so I know I can’t be the only one who feels that it is. Special, that is. I have evolved a habit of watching each show the following morning. It has become as much of a part of my morning as the coffee that I’m drinking while I watch it. 

But, now that Ze has conquered the internet, he is moving on to Hollywood. I hope he finds much money and hot girls awaiting him there. I think he has earned that side of fame. After all, without him, would the earth have ever been a sandwich?  I think not.

So good luck in Tinseltown, Ze … the internets will miss you. Thanks for all the cool stuff.

The puddle that wasn’t a puddle

Last Friday, we had a bit of rain. And sleet. More than bit, really. You might even say that it rained and/or sleeted all damn day, when it comes down to it. I had to go out in the afternoon for a meeting at an Elementary school.

On the way to the school, I did pass through a few puddles. Some even seemed a little on the deep side, but still definitely puddles. When I got to the school, I noticed a puddle in the drive way, but it looked like all the rest of the puddles, so I drove in anyway.

And I found out that it wasn’t a puddle at all. It was a fucking pond. And my Mini is not at all like a boat. Before I could even try to back out, the engine died, and my car was stuck in the water, which came past my ankle. Icy cold water, I might add.

So, once again, I am without my car and stuck with a rental. Except this time, it’s my insurance that has to foot the bill. $1400! And that’s only so far! Who knows what it will be when it’s all over and done with.

I hate puddles 😦

Mini got whacked

Last night, some asshole rammed into the back of my Mini, leaving just the tiniest of cracks in the bumper. It’s very small, and I’m sure it’s easily fixed. But the transformation has been made. Not that it’s only the wreck, mind you. There were other things too … There was the layer of thick dust on the car, the fact that I’m starting to let Maddie eat in it, the trunk begnning to stack up with junk, and the receptionist where I work had stopped asking me every day how the new Mini was …

And now, there is the crack.

Once a car gets knocked around like that, there’s just no regaining that innocence, that purity …

My car is not new anymore.

There, I’ve said it…

The magic is gone …

And I just don’t know how to get it back.

I’ve tried everything I can think of … giving lots of extra affection … trying to recreate  the environment that originally led to that special moment … hell, I even tried using a chicken egg. But, it’s just no good.

Kit has stopped laying her eggs.

I found the last egg cracked on the bottom of her cage two days ago, and I threw it out thinking she would just make another … that everything would be all right. But no replacement egg came. Instead, she’s been celebrating her newfound freedom with a frenzied enthusiasm I  would have never thought possible. It’s as if she’s been saving up all of those weeks of missed squawking and now has to keep going and going until she gets caught up to where she would have been.

Shouldn’t there at least be a grieving period or something? Doesn’t she want to quietly ponder her feelings about her loss? What kind of bird do we have here, anyway?

I hate to say it, but I’m really losing all respect for her. And I find myself daydreaming about super-gluing her beak together (oh shut up, I wouldn’t really do it …)

Kit may have chosen to party away her pain, but the rest of us in the house are in some serious mourning for those eggs.

RIP Little Infertile Eggs.

You will never know how much you are missed.