 |  |  | | Aug 4, 2000 ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER PALLOR | |  | |  |
Oh tender Netscape, why do we fight so? We took some time today to exterminate a million little bugs here and there on the ol' Circus, but we might have missed one or two with the proverbial can of Raid. If you happen to see a buggy bit, please let us know and we'll nail the little guy right away. Think Jesus, only with less wriggling.
Will we ever interview a level-headed somebody with something to say? Not on our watch. Read our interview with Clint Eastwood. Or as Clint might say, "Read em n' weep, ya scurvy rap-dawgs!". No, you're right. We have no idea who Clint Eastwood is. But that didn't stop us from making slanderous libel-shit up about the fossilized remains of a one-pony trick actor.
And yeah, "libel-shit" is hyphenated.
We're slowly but surely changing things around here. The idea behind the daily drivel is that it provides focus to the site. However, David Wong, of Pointless Waste of Time fame pointed out that it's just filler, really, and that nobody wants their jokes explained ahead of time. In this case, he has a point.
We have some private, complex theories of our own about the role of a public web person, however, so this daily fluff isn't dissappearing entirely. Instead of explaining, just keep your bells pealed and you'll see what we'll be doing.
In the meantime, take a look at today's ../content: Must Not See T.V.
| | | | July 28, 2000 WE ALMOST DIED | | | | |
Not true, but we've a penchant for the dramatic. In reality, we've been seriously rethinking whole portions of Burning Circus. We've been changing the format because we're hyperanalyzing what we think will bring more visitors and bring them back because they like us that much better than other porn sites. The thing is, the ol' Circus will never be commercial and won't advertise except to pay our indenturers in the server dungeon. Because, candidly, our hobby is simply to inflict massive amounts of unimaginable pain on as many people as possible, and we've chosen humor as our weapon of choice.
That brings us to the changes we'll be making. First, we wanted to do daily updates. Ha! I wouldn't be that ambitious if I had only 2 or 3 tentacles and was surrounded by 400 Japanese school girls. We've decided that instead, we'd rather try to sustain as high a funny to not-funny ratio as possible. Therefore, in the coming weeks, we'll probably be updating every 2-3 days, no less often, and with as good a stuff as we can pull out of our ass. As you can imagine, that puts certain strains on our dietary habits, but giving up our strict unfunny-food-only routine is exactly the kind of sacrifice we're willing to make.
At any rate, we'll also be droning on less in the daily page as nobody really cares about this bit anyway, it's just to provide some focus to the whole carnival we call a circus. But please, our two dedicated readers, let us know if you have strong thoughts about this or that. We really appreciate feedback, and respond to every email we get. (We got one one time. We responded. 100% kill rate, baby.)
We'll have new ../content up later today, but in the meantime check out Exploding Dog, a site we found and fell in love with just yesterday. Sam Brown, I want you to have my babies. They're in the dumpster out back.
Hasta la bye bye,
| | | | July 19, 2000 AXE ME NO QUESTIONS, I AINT TAKIN YO WIVES | | | | |
So we're sitting here listening to Woody Allen deliver standup comedy in 1964. We can do this because of the twin miracles of science and Napster. Now, we've heard Lars Ulrich and his "whoa I'm so" high horse bullshit he and his "band" try to pull. That's the example we like to point out that proves why it's important to have a basic understanding of both technology and exact copyright law. Wait, let's back up. You gotta know that those things exist. For instance, don't expect to put your art on a disc encoded with any digital language and expect that you're going to keep that song frozen in place on that disk like it's Han Solo or some shit. In fact, let's be very clear here. No media that exists today is going to outrun the bored college kids and crazy high schoolers who are going to decode whatever the hell you put your songs on whether they have to write the software to do it or not. Or your movies, or your audio, video, textual , we-don't-care-what media, it's going to be free if somebody wants that media and doesn't want to get it any other way.
Well, look, now we got on a horse ourselves. What we meant to say was, we think Napster is great for another reason. We would never have heard how good Allen sounds back in 1964 it we didn't have that program. We're not fooling anyone. We'd never buy a CD of the same. But still, when it's 4 am, we sure do love to hear that wonderful stuff.
Anyway. Today's ../content is a wistful memoir of our own childhood, wherein we did some seriously fucked shit. Okay, not true; we were actually that boring kid in the corner quietly ingesting his boogers and crayons. But we would have loved to have had the cajones then that we pretend to have now. Also, the preference for real food. Here's some Elevator Games.
Hey, it's those birds again. Bedtime.
| | | | July 18, 2000 LACK OF WATER | | | | |
We're not going to bitch. We promise. But yesterday we had no internet access for the entire day. Also, half of Sunday we were digitally castrated too. Picture Lucifer running out of lighter fluid. Only worse, because I don't have sinners to beat.
Anyway, we wrote several ../content pieces in the meantime, so we'll have a ../content piece every day for the next few days. Also, we got our room clean and the dishes washed and our computer gutted and cleaned. Also, we read a book, and got some real work done. Not having internet access frightens us because it makes us realize how much better of a person we'd be without it.
But anyway, screw us, we're uninteresting. Check out some ../content: You Might Be a Leper.
We need sustenance, but we're going to McDonalds instead. Ciao.
| | | | July 15, 2000 GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! | | | | |
Update: Fully online, Netscape bug fixed, general orderliness achieved. Also, we've been alive long enough to archive the daily news, so there's a brand new button on the nav bar that just screams "click me, hot stuff, click me" if you want to read old news. We'll plan on keeping up about a week's worth.
Update: Er, yeah, now we're good. Not sure how, but a wave of packets got through somehow. Yippie. So no more broken links, but there's still this scrolly bug with NN.
Update: Scratch the applicable things below, we're not online yet. We can somehow get text online and nothing else. Have fun with all the broken links until we dig a hole from our apartment to yours to personally deliver all these 1s and 0s. Also, the ad thingy is buggin' for Netscrape users. Sorry, we'll fix that as soon as the hamsters at our ISP get back on their wheels.
We've determined that the internet is going to hell in a handbasket. Wait, that's not good enough. The internet is going to hell in a Mercury Zephyr loaded with 200 pounds of uncut cocaine, 6 live teen amateurs, a dead hooker with dysentery, and 200 pounds of Dom Deluise (note: not all of him).
Before you refute me by sending me all the scat porn you have downloaded, let me say this: The net is sewn together in a delicate balance, that, while we may think is de-centralized and therefore stable, is no more stable than yours truly. Our site was down for hours out of the last two days because our hosting company was down because a whole big router branch in California was down because somebody forgot to pay the electric bill. We're not kidding. Microsoft almost lost passport.com a few months ago because it forgot to pay Internic 35 bucks for the domain name. And yesterday, we lost internet connection because our ISP lost nearly all of its machines to some unknown problem that got fixed without anyone really understanding how.
Okay, enough of that. This is a "humor site", not a "shut up you whiny bastard" site. How about some ../content?
Yes, lets. We try not to pay attention to the hairless mole rats that create "news" outside of our decrepit circus, but today we saw a paper and realized that the news was all wrong. We've got some news for you, and it's all right, baby, it's alright. Check out: Browlines.
And, since we couldn't get online to put Sympathy Barn up either, it's now up for your visceral pleasure.
Surf into the sunset,
We're pretty mad. Our gloriously frustrating host (as if WE are the parasite) was down for about six hours today, bringing the ol' Circus down with it. We're not ones to make fun of those who are less than mentally gigantic, nor do we mean to make fun of mental retardation, but when a cow kicks over a lantern at our server center, we want some retards fired.
At any rate, we know we told you that we would eject some ../content today, but we spent hours on the phone with our loyal server company and basically got fed up with trying to find a time slot that the server wasn't down so we could upload. By now, we're updating from another computer that isn't ours and which has no useful ../content on it save a desktop that has, honest to god, Ho Chi Minh on it.
Well, tomorrow, if we haven't de-sacked the janitor that fell in the electron vat, screwing up our service, we'll be getting things back on track around here. Say it with us: "sigh".
Ta,
| | | | July 12, 2000 SELLIN' OUT | | | | |
Oh man, do we love empty promises. And we're full of 'em. Thought we'd update every day did you? Jesus, don't listen to us. Anyway, we would update every day except that lately we've been spending our time at the Circus sweeping up and tidying the place. Specifically, we've been battling a belligerent hosting company, pleading with CGI to obey our ignorant commands, cleaning up our fecial codework, and meekly trying to implement some small changes across about 70 web pages. We're so worked up we could kill a cop. Not true. But we'd sure take away his donut. We could really use a donut right now.
As for ../content, ya ain't getting any. Well, okay, maybe some semi-../content. As you might have noticed at the top of the page, there's a sad, 468 by 60 pixel eyesore. We can't really help it. We're selling out. Not for the 12 cents our meager site would bring in, but as a banner exchange that we hope might lure in some unsuspecting teenagers looking for circus porn. Don't give us that look. It's out there. Not that we have some on a folder on our hard drive labeled "Circus Porn" or anything. So peep this, home-slice: The Burning Circus Ad Venture. Note the use of an irrelevant pun to connote the intensity of our cleverness and marketing suave.
AND boy do we like Wednesdays because we get to smear great warm heaping gobs of Sympathy Barn all over ourselves. Anti-aliasing provided for the visually impaired.
Tomorrow you get real ../content, or else we'll post pictures of us running naked through the Whitehouse sprinklers. Whichever takes less time and bail money.
| | | | July 10, 2000 SEX AND CRAYONS | | | | |
Happy Monday! Aw screw it, we're fooling nobody. Besides, it's almost Tuesday anyway. We're not sure if you've noticed, our two valued readers, but we tend to update the day after the posted date or just really late the day of. Why? We're cool like that.
But we have a big beautiful bouncing pair of ../content pieces today for your clicking pleasure. First, check out Literary Bar Jokes and enjoy the intellectual elitism that we prize more than our mail-in diplomas.
Then, as it tends to do, Sympathy Barn showed up on our porch and gave us our morning weep.
Alack anon,
| | | | July 8, 2000 DIOS MIO CACAFUEGO | | | | |
You know a website is good when it can actually shear the space-time fabric. Today we performed the incredible feat of phase-shifting our temporal selves to Friday and, in as holy an experience as changing Baby Jesus, we updated the Circus. How did we do this? It involves levels of HTML you couldn't possibly understand.
As for today, (Saturday, we think), we got up, had some cereal, and that's about as far as we got. Here's some milk cartons.
We'd love to say more, but to be honest, we're not quite sure what to say. Ever had a one-sided conversation with somebody? See, this whole daily blurb thing is just that and it unnerves us. We're not sure if we should address you formally and talk about the weather or breathe a sigh of relief and talk about our genital problems.
That 2-bit ho didn't mention we'd be paying for months to come, (sic)
| | | | July 7, 2000 USING THE LATEST LITE-BRIGHT TECHNOLOGY | | | | |
Well, somehow we can't find our past selves to hand them Saturday's Wall Street Journal. Oh wait, the stock market isn't open Saturday and we lined Francis Chunk's cage with it anyway. No matter. We'll visit the the Barn instead. Sympathy Barn has existed for all time. Some say God himself was born there, to a virgin and a telemarketer. Those people are goddamn liars.
Sympathy Barn. It's sane, you aren't.
Got time by the nuts,
| | | | July 6, 2000 EENIE WEENIE UPDATE FOOFEENIE | | | | |
This right here is a blatant guilt soother over the fact that we didn't do any ../content today. Real work impeded on pretend work and it got the better of us. Also, so did Baywatch.
There! Now don't we feel better? We do. Look at us, we update every day. In the meantime, check out this great new web site we found while searching for donkey porn. It is not very well designed, has no pictures to look at save one, and nothing moves at all on the page. It's really pretty sad. I'm only linking to it because it is a good example of where the intenet (or 'net' for short) was before we got Flash and DHTML. Check out: Yippie Skippy (or whatever candied name it has) and thank the Macromedia fates that we have moved beyond such dense blocks of pure textual ../content.
Shalom and thanks for all the fish,
| | | | July 5, 2000 PROVING THAT EVEN DOWNS SYNDROME CAN'T KEEP US DOWN | | | | |
Summer is finally here! In fact, it's been here for some time. But we just got sunburned (again) and it reminded us that we, dutiful informants of the ignorant internet populace, ought to let you know. How many hundreds -- nay, thousands -- of jobs would be lost were it not for cancer? On behalf of all those hard working, light-starved researchers, doctors, and coroners, cancer -- we salute you.
At any rate, the Circus has found a new way to invigorate the dullary of the informative interview. We darted and caged a special guest for your amusement and abuse. Read our 20 Questions with The American Bald Eagle and play along. Also, we know you won't hug us, but it's our birthday today.
Some parting advice: Never pay a hooker for what you can get at home, for free, with a bottle of wine and a cantaloupe.
Fortitude,
 
|
