Okay, the action news is fixed, in that it is back to yellow, or at least the proper ratio of yellow to orange, which is essential to annoying people. I’ve found that more people are annoyed by the color scheme of our web site than by the color of pretty much any other site in the entire world of cyber. One of the guests—a GUEST, mind you—at that big party that we invited you all to attend… this guest says to me, “d00d, your page, man… it’s hella orange.”
“You don’t like it?” I asked sheepishly, my lower lip quivering.
“It’s… it’s a lot of orange.” He said, shaking his head sadly.
At which point I fainted. I’m not very good at the whole “taking criticism” thing. But as I’ve said, that guy is WRONG, because this page is mostly yellow, or “burnt mustard” if you must. So he was dumb and wrong, but still.
I just wish I had a good come-back to throw at him right then, but instead I just sat there crying until he got really uncomfortable and walked away. I wish I had thought of something clever, like, “Nuh-uh. You wanna know what’s orange? YOU’RE orange!!! HAHAHA! How d’ya like them apples, Mr. Orange? Hey everybody look! This guy’s orange! HAHAHA! Everybody! Look! Ha ha! Everybody! Hey! Hey you guys! Look! No seriously! No really! Look! Hey, why won’t you come over here and look at this guy? Hey, why are you flipping me off? That’s not nice. This is my party! Hey, shut up! You guys seriously. I was too invited! I sent out the invitations. This is my party. Now just come over here and look at this orange guy. No, I won’t leave! Stop it! What are you talking about? I’m not even drunk. Quit it! Don’t touch me! This is my party! OW! That hurts! Where are we going? Hey, you can’t put me out here! I left my windbreaker in there. Hey guys? Can I at least have my windbreaker? It’s cold out here. No, don’t shove it through the mail slot. My glasses are in there. No, I said DON’T shove it through the mail slot. You’re going to break my—oh, man you did! You did break my glasses! You guys are jerks! Shut up! I’m not crying. I have asthma! I only talk this way because night air makes my asthma worse. Now let me back in! I’m serious. I’m serious…”
Yeah. That would have been sweet. Why do we always think of these things after the fact eh?
Okay, I’m going to post that damn birthday art, I swear. But I’ve got to acquire some permission from some people. Hopefully I can do it with just the right level of legal trickery to leave an opening for me to come back later and sue some people to fund the rest of the project. Or at least, fund some more suing! And eventually, some bling bling for my teeth.