BlogAds Dumped Me
I’ve had BlogAds for a long time, and I liked them. I never got any money from them, but I liked thinking that I was helping a small business or individual advertise. I’ve let friends advertise on there for free, even.
Apparently, however, BlogAds didn’t much like me. Why do I think that BlogAds didn’t like me? Because they dumped me.
I got an email from Christopher, of BlogAds, informing me that I’ve been ditched because BlogAds didn’t like their placement. He sent me an example of a blog with proper placement, and it was exactly the same placement I had. I’ve moved the BlogAds spot all over my sidebars, imitating the placement of other blogs’ BlogAds, and I guess nothing was good enough.
Yesterday, I got a check from them, so apparently I’ve been cashed out and discarded. I feel so. . . cheap. And, ridiculous though this may be, sad.
Being discarded is never any fun, even when it’s total strangers whose directives made no sense, and the loss really makes no difference in one’s life.
Goodbye then, BlogAds. I’ll remove your icon from my sidebar since you don’t want me any more.
I would have advertised almost anything for you, if only you had asked me. But you didn’t ask me.
Got BlogAds? You’d better check your placement. I moved mine all over the sidebars for them, but it was never good enough. That’s how they getcha.
Imperial Rhapsody
Once again, something that’s been floating around the internet for a good long time. I used to teach my study hall kids to sing this.
Imperial Rhapsody
(sung to the tune of Bohemian Rhapsody, by Queen)
Lando: This is the good life
This is a fantasy
Working on Bespin
An escape from Reality.
Leia: Open your eyes
Stand up to their guys and see.
Luke: I’m just a farm boy, I need some sympathy
Cuz who’s my dad, I dunno
Little whine, little moan.
Han: Anywhere the Force goes, doesn’t really matter, to me
Piett: Vader just killed a man.
Raised an arm up in the air
Now his life’s no longer there.
Vader, we had just begun,
And now I’ve gone and lost the reb-el scum.
Vader, oooooooo.
Didn’t mean to make you mad
If I’m not alive again this time tomorrow,
There’ll be a new admiral, as if nothing ever happened.
Yoda: Too late, my time has come,
Sends shivers down my spine
Body’s aching all the time.
Luke: Goodbye everybody, I’ve got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and learn the Force.
Piett: Vader, ooooooooooo,
I don’t wanna die
I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all.
Luke: I see a little silhouetto of a man
Palpatine, Palpatine, can it be the Emperor?
Thunderbolts and lightning, very very hurting me!
R2-D2, R2-D2,
R2-D2, R2-D2,
R2-D2, Where’d ya go? C-3PO O O O O O OH!
I’m just a farmboy, nobody loves me.
R
ebels: He’s just a farmboy, with a dead family.
Spare him this life of such mundacity!
Han: Spice’ll come, spice’ll go. Jabba let me go.
Jabba: Boo shuda! (NO, we will not let you go)
Han: Let me go!
J
abba: Bo shuda! (We will not let you go)
Han: Let me go!
Jabba: Bo shuda! (We will not let you go)
Han: LET ME GO!
Jabba: WILL NOT LET YOU GOO!
Han: LET ME GO!
Jabba: WILL NOT LET YOU GO!
Han: LET ME GO!
Jabba: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!
C-3PO: Oh R2-D2, R2-D2, R2-D2, Come along.
Leia: C-3PO has a rebel put aside for meeee, for meeee. for MEEEEEEEEEE!
(Stormtroopers start headbanging)
Luke: So you say you’re the dear old dad of mine?
But you cut my hand off and left me to die!
Oh Vader, can’t do this to me, Vader.
I know there’s some good, I know there’s still some good in you.
Obiwan: May the Force be with you.
Use the Force to see.
May the Force be with you,
May the Force be with you, alwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaays.
Han: Anywhere the Force goes, doesn’t really mat-ter, to meeeeeeeeeee.
A Prayer For Children
A Prayer for Children
by Ina J. Hughes
We pray for children who put chocolate fingers everywhere,
who like to be tickled,
who stomp in puddles and ruin their new pants,
who sneak Popsicles before supper
who erase holes in their math workbooks,
who can never find their shoes.
And we pray for those who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
who can’t bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who never go to the circus,
who never “counted potatoes,”
who are born in places we wouldn’t be caught dead near,
who live in an X-rated world.
We pray for children who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who sleep with the dog and bury the goldfish,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,
who cover themselves with Band-Aids and sing off-key,
who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,
who slurp their soup.
And we pray for those who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can’t find any bread to steal,
who don’t have any rooms to clean,
whose pictures are not on anybody’s dresser,
whose monsters are real.
We pray for children who spend their allowances before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who shove dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don’t like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church or temple
and scream in the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at,
and whose smiles can make us cry.
And we pray for those whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who aren’t spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.
We pray for children who want to be carried
and for those who must.
For those we never give up on, and
for those who don’t get a second chance.
For those we smother,
and for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it. . . .
