Friday, July 21What Doing?
Here is a sneak-peek at the brand-spanking new CDP logo. It will be replacing the 'label maker' logo I've had since the start of 2006. The old logo was impossible to use for merch purposes, so it's been kicked to the curb. Expect to see the new logo pop up all over the CDP in upcoming weeks.
As I mentioned, along with a slight image makeover, the CDP will be entering the swag business in a week or two. I like money and you like to spend it, so everyone wins. More on that as it develops. I'm trying to take care of all the technical stuff during the summer, so when the yuppie Lost Friday crowd takes over in September, they'll have a place to deposit their excess income.
My UFO Days 2006 post should have been here by now, but I've had way too many things to do recently. Along with creating merch, customizing my logo and counting my fat PayPal account (donate now!), I've been running myself ragged over at my real job. It doesn't help that my back is completely shot, too. This weekend, however, I'll be editing the video I shot at the convention, and the essay should be up on Monday. Should be.
New logo is on the way. Expect it to start invading next week.
New merch is on the way. Give it about two weeks.
The UFO Convention video/essay will arrive on Monday.
Have a good weekend.
(EDIT: Thanks to your donations, I purchased the domain THECDP.NET. Check it out, add it to your favorites and relish in a much shorter URL.)
Wednesday, July 19Here Comes The Money.
So, here's the deal. After two-and-a-half years, 400 posts and hundreds upon thousands of hits, the CDP has decided to put up a donation button in the sidebar. See it over there? It's hot, sexy and ready to take your money. I'm putting it up in case there are any CDP readers that are feeling charitable.
You see, I put a lot of time into this blog, mainly because writing is one of the few things that I'm marginally talented at. I love it more than anything on the planet besides the Missus; more than Mr. T, Tony Little and The Shaggs combined. Seriously. I've refused sponsors in the past and stripped the place of adverts, specifically because I felt that it took away from the page and what I was trying to do here. It doesn't mean I don't like money, however.
Look, I'm not broke, I don't need a kidney and I'm kind of an asshole. However, here you are, on my page yet again, entertaining yourself for free with my essays. That's more than okay with me, but if you've been looking for a special way to thank me for being so awesome, it's you're lucky day.
It's completely safe and secure, and you don't have to sign up for anything. I promise. You just need some sort of check or credit card, and that's it.
Also, if you leave a comment, drop me an e-mail or otherwise let me know that you donated money to the CDP, I will move Heaven and earth to find some way to thank you. I can send you a customized cartoon, an autographed 8x10 glossy, anything. If you'd prefer to remain anonymous, I can dig that, too.
Thank you for your support. The highly-anticipated UFO DAYS 2006 post is on the way. Sound off in the comments section about how big of a jackass I am.
Monday, July 17Ow, My Spine!
Lumbar Disc Herniation. I have it; you want it.
About a week ago, I realized that it hurt when I laid down (that's what the kids like to call a "red flag," by the way). A stinging sensation ran straight up my back, with all the intensity and bravado of a cattle prod. After wincing and peeing a little, I checked to make sure I wasn't attempting to take a nap on any live wires, and thoughtfully stroked my smooth chin.
"Well, that can't possibly be right," I said to myself. Then I passed out.
Further attention located the cause of my problem to be a severely tender lower back. Ignoring it for the first few days, I then realized that my legs were experiencing a large amount of tingling and pain when I slept. My constant kicking and shifting even put me on the couch for a night or so, as to not boot the Missus in the ovaries by accident one unfortunate night. Eventually, I put two and two together, and here we are. I don't really know how it happened, but I have it and it's not going away.
And yes, I see the irony in being too out of shape for a nap. Save the jokes, turd-burglars.
In reality, it's sort of a serious thing. A lumbar disc is inflamed in my lower back, and it's messing with my spine (ruh-roh). When I press hard enough on it, my right leg tingles (ruh-roh!). I've been going over the checklist in my head as to how this might have happened, and I think it has something to do with my multiple attempts to breakdance in the living room (I do this during TV commercials so the Missus doesn't get bored). It was only a matter of time before I popped and locked one too many times, causing something to snap and leak out of my spinal cord.
Now, the Missus will never be bored. When I inevitably become a cripple, she'll have to feed me mashed vegetables and wipe my aforementioned smooth chin every day. I'll have to change the name of my page to "Quadriplegic Dance Party," and we all know how those end up. The end times are near, and I'm preparing for the rapture.
Or, it will all heal up in six weeks, provided I take it easy and gob Icy Hot on it; whichever's easiest for me. You know how much I hate putting ointments on my body, however, so paralyzation is still a serious option I'm weighing out with my family.
In the meantime, it hurts like hell and I'm not comfortable in any position but standing up. When I'm seated, I shift around more than Michael J. Fox on the Tilt-A-Whirl (meanest joke ever). When I lay down, it feels like my legs are trying to detach themselves from my doughy thorax (and can you blame them?). I'm cranky, irritable and plowing through the ice packs with reckless abandon.
You know, I can't help but think that this is some sort of divine retribution for something bad I've done in the last few weeks. Perhaps God isn't too happy with the concept of me being an ordained Reverend. Being raised Catholic, it's always been assumed that I'm a hell-bound sinner, and it was only a matter of time before the bookkeeping staff in Heaven realized that I've slipped through the cracks and vaporized me on the spot.
Imagine my surprise when they decided to kill me slowly and painfully. Those guys are a hoot.
My spine hurts. Sound off in the comments section and give me a verbal massage.
The CDP Visits A UFO Convention.
(Hilarity does not ensue; I'll have the video to prove it.)