Old man yells at cloud
The pace continues to be crazy down Planet SOMA way, so my apologies for the sparse update schedule of late. I do have some interesting stuff planned for the site’s upcoming fourth anniversary on Thursday.
Coming soon: the excitement of two trips to Salinas in one day, the surprise of hearing from an old friend after a couple of years, and more. Sounds enticing, doesn’t it?
Why is it that every time I see or hear the disposable sounds of the Grammy-nominated Backstreet Boys, I get this uncontrollable craving for a big ol’ mayonnaise and Velveeta sandwich on white bread? Has anyone else had this problem?
While I’m at it, does anyone else find this whole boy band thing to be a big insult to such classic boy bands as the Osmonds or New Kids on the Block? And has anyone else accidentally caught Joey McIntyre on one of his recent VH-1/MTV guest appearances and wondered at what a slimewad he seems to have become?
Speaking of slimewads, has anyone visited Cybersocket lately? I don’t recommend it; it’s a stupid publication with an ugly website. Even better, it features misleading descriptions of sites. Holy Titclamps, for example, is a “celebrity gossip” site while Planet SOMA is a big promoter of “queer culture”. I love the way that professional homosexuals try to re-work the universe to fit their narrow view thereof. If anything, my site’s function is to convince the world what a complete crock of shit the idea of “queer culture” is.
The above would be worth a brief chuckle if these assholes also didn’t keep spamming me (six messages yesterday) and telling me it wasn’t spam because I’d signed up for their “mailing list” Of course, this is bullshit, since the spam comes to specific addresses they harvested from my site and don’t use otherwise. It’s idiots like these who are responsible for the fact that I don’t have direct email links on the site anymore.
Other things I hate today, dammit:
Links du jour:
Just in time for my fourth anniversary (with eight days to spare, yet), I’ve compiled the official 1999 Planet SOMA statistics, giving an exciting (OK, maybe not exciting) look at which pages are most popular, where links are coming from, etc. This front page, for example, was accessed over 128,000 times.
It’s no big surprise that the San Francisco front page is number one, with 22,333 accesses. It is a bit odd that my sex club page, which hasn’t been updated since I stopped going to sex clubs about three years ago, came in fifth. Anyway, the top ten is follows:
The strong showing in the 1970s section is largely due to a link on Suck.com a few weeks back (which actually shut down the site for a few hours), although the front page probably would have been in the top ten anyway. The loft boom is a result of this section’s being featured in a couple of Yahoo Full Coverage sections.
Yahoo was by far my largest traffic generator as a whole, along with several other search engines and “that interview” in Nightcharm.
Of course, all this can distract you from the fact that I still don’t have anything particularly exciting to write about. This weekend I brought in the New Year, solidified my good luck with black-eyed peas and collard greens, and drove upto Sacramento on Sunday (through the delta on Highway 160) just to get out of the house. And I worked.
It rained today. That was nice. And I had some really good pork chops for dinner. I almost threw a computer through a plate glass window at my evil and hateful part-time job today, which would have made an interesting story had I actually done it. And I won free stuff at the vending machine twice. But that’s about it.
Big damn deal, huh?
It’s 2AM in San Francisco. The world did not end. The lights are on and the cable works. The web did not fail. I’ve sent and receieved email. There were no major riots. For a Friday night, it’s strangely calm and quiet South of Market, even though the bars have just dismissed their New Year’s Eve crowds into the streets.
Apparently, this “millenium bash” was one of the calmest New Year’s Eve celebrations in San Francisco history.
For my part, Dan picked me up at 7:30. We then grabbed Steve and Jamie and took the back rodas to a house near Geary and Masonic for dinner with some friends. We watched the celebration at Times Square. As we talked, we realized we’d all been watching the live coverage of the events worldwide all day. At this point, we gave up on all traces of urban sophistication and pretension (pretense?).
After dinner, we all drove back to Steve’s house on Potrero Hill to bring in the new year and watch the fireworks over the bay. It was all very low-key, we were seven nicely agreeable individuals, and Steve and I (the only two drinkers of the bunch) couldn’t even manage to kill off one bottle of champagne. We did have streamers and balloons (five of which are now in my living room) and cookies and bread and cheese.
We laughed at the sparse turnout for all of San Francisco’s “official” celebrations. I occasionally looked out the window to make sure than South of Market wasn’t on fire. It wasn’t.
In fact as we drove through the remarkably sedate Mission district and onto Folsom Street on the way home, I noticed that the crowds on the street were pretty small even for a normal Friday night. I think people were terrified. Or just tired of all the hype.
All in all, it was a damn fine New Year’s Eve. When I got home, I turned off all the lights I’d left on, emailed my mom to let her know I was still alive and now I’m going to bed.
The traditional collards and black-eyed peas will be served tomorrow afternoon, although Safeway was sold out of fresh greens. All in all, I’d say that this shortage may suggest that there’s hope for the Bay Area after all. Or at least a hell of a lot of Southern transplants.
That said, happy New Year to you all!