glassdog Lance showed these to me.

Sometimes you have to wonder about what marketing people are thinking about when designing banner ads.

Take for example the advertising currently in rotation at DoubleClick and appearing all over the Web for a firm called Bizhosting. They show a happy, smiling, unassuming and presumably satisfied customer extolling the benefits of setting up a new account at Bizhosting and how easy and wonderful it is.

Then they, apparently, take a whiz across the entire ad on the “Click Here” link. Now, what kind of message were they trying to convey, do you suppose?

I have to hand it to the woman, though. It’s gotta be pretty hard to squeeze your thighs tight enough to aim that well.

https://i0.wp.com/www.scottobear.com/lj/bizpee1.gif?w=474

https://i0.wp.com/www.scottobear.com/lj/bizpee2.gif?w=474

https://i0.wp.com/scottobear.com/lj/ThirdMan.jpg?w=474

Roaming the alleys of my mind, pondering coming tomes to fill it.

I need to find a new book to read. If I don’t find some to buy soon, I’m going to go to project gutenberg and download something. I’m unsure of what I want to read, though. Some nonfiction, documentary/historic/biographic stuff, I think, then a cheesy pulp fiction (like Tarzan or the shadow), then more solid stuff again. I really don’t like having nothing new to read in the house… I have about 5 books on my palm right now, but they’ll be consumed before I know it. How do I get t long-dead authors to write more stuff? I’d really like to find some lost Jules Verne or HG Wells.

Right now I’m leaning to Two Years in the Forbidden City by princess Der Ling. (My sweetheart has me floating on an Asia kick. 馃檪 )

A Guilty Statement.. I never got around to reading Last Of The Mohicans… but for some reason, I don’t feel a drive to. Perhaps I’ll take a look, and see if I’ve been missing anything.

In other news… I *really* want Mexican for dinner. A cheese enchilada, some refried beans and rice. nummy!

Wow! Look at this little bitty mammal, barely bigger than a paper clip. I didn’t know there were mammals that small….but apparently there were 195 million years ago.

Incredibly enough, while reading this, actual monkeys flew out of my butt.

Sea monkey update –

4 big ones (3 male, 1 female)

3 mid-size (1 male, 2 unknown)

6 or more specks.

No Mad Ludwigs yet this set of generations.

This colony has been going about month longer than Newton is old. Started Mid September 1999. It had to be restarted (all originals died out, I suspect to poor oxygenation of the water) in June of 2000.

Fed every Friday, bubbles blown.

Straight dope – Latest – The Civet. 2 for one –

I have heard for as long as I can remember (and even read in a book somewhere) that a major ingredient of Chanel No.5 perfume is the sweaty excretions of the Abyssinian civet cat. I have even heard that they stretch these cats out on some type of medieval rack and whip them mercilessly to make them sweat more. The Straight dope, Please?

Is kopi luwak for real? I mean, coffee made from beans that have taken a ride down the alimentary canal of an animal? I hope this is a joke, but I’m worried that it’s not.

You’re wondering what these two questions have in common?
Better sit down, friends. It’ll become apparent all too soon.

word of the day, and a little extra

dop路pel路g盲ng路er or dop路pel路gang路er DOPP-ul-gang-er, noun:

A spiritual or ghostly double or counterpart; esp., an apparitional double of a living person; a cowalker. (A phantasmic or “astral” body deemed to be separable from the physical body and capable of acting independently.), especially one that haunts its fleshly counterpart.

——————————————————————————–
[German a double: doppel, double (from French double); see double + G盲nger, goer (from Gang, a going) (from Middle High German ganc) (from Old High German).]

You find yourself standing ankle-deep in the surf of a vast, green-blue ocean.

A candy-striped lighthouse stands on the edge of a finger of rock to your left. On your right, the gold-white sand of the beach follows a gentle curve and fades off in the distance. Behind you are your shoes, a large beach blanket and a picnic basket. Sitting on the blanket is a cluster of dainty creatures. They eat tiny, wedge-shaped sandwiches, occasionally sipping from a bone china teacup. One of them, a pale skinned beauty with thick red hair and a black lace parasol watches you and smiles.

“Won’t you join us?”

Where your eyes don’t go
a filthy scarecrow waves its broomstick arms
and does a parody of each unconscious thing you do.
When you turn to look its gone
but behind your back its wearing
your confused expression
where your eyes don’t go.

— They Might Be Giants