Not To Be Trusted With Knives











{November 3, 2008}   Thank goodness for Akismet!

The other day when I logged in to WordPress, I noticed that I had exactly 3333 total comments1 on my blog:

That’s a nice number: 3333.

But then I realized that 550 were spam. Boo spam.

And then, on top of that, Akismet has saved me from a further 6741 spam comments!  That’s 2.6 spam comments for every legit comment.  On the Akismet website it says that “86% of all comments are spam,” so I guess it’s good that I have below average spam levels at mere 72%.

Now, this whole thing has prompted me to actually look in the Akismet spam folder – I’ve never looked in it before. It’s pretty much what you’d expect – a lot of links, followed by a list of dirty words and phrases. Although one in particular caught my eye – it had the title “Anal,” which was followed by a link that I shall not reproduce here, and then a list of phrases, starting with:

korea sex net
free anal sex web site
wedding photography essex

Wedding photography essex? Really?
1It was a few days ago when I took this screen shot. When I just now logged in to write this post, I had exactly 3400 total comments.



{November 3, 2008}   Grumpy Mood

To the man who blew past me at about 70 km/hr when I was stopped at the crosswalk on Main St. tonight,

You came within 3 ft of killing the pedestrian who was IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET!  Yes, I realize she was crossing the road at an unlit crosswalk on a dark and rainy night wearing all black, but she was IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD!  You are driving a car and you should really be looking out for people who are IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD!  Here’s a tip: when you see that the car in the next lane (i.e., me) is stopped at a crosswalk, you may want to consider that there may be a person IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET! Also, when I yelled at you at the next stoplight (because, despite your ridiculous speed and lack of consideration for the safety and life of a young pedestrian, you didn’t actually get any further ahead than the next stoplight!), your dismissive shrug, as if you cared not that you nearly killed a person, was not appreciated.


To the man to drove by me very slowly and stared at me the entire time while I was loading my hockey gear into my co-op car,

Yes, I play hockey. Yes, I am a girl. Get over it.


To the girl who shoved me, hard, down to the ice, from behind, at the blue line, after the whistle and then said, “Sorry!”,

I did not believe that you were sorry.


To my brown shoes that appear to have disappeared from my apartment without a trace,

Was it something I said?


To the too hot french fry that burned the roof of my mouth when I bit into it,

You were supposed to be delicious, not injurious.



et cetera