DAY ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-SEVEN

Another day at the salt mines. We were threatened with an ice storm, but it went above us and all we got was lots and lots of rain. Beats the heck out of ice any day of the week. There's this contest on author Brian Keene's message board where if you post at the correct time you can win a prize. It was dull yesterday morning so I decided to have fun and posted on every section of the board. Nothing serious just some happy little icons.
Yeah, I got an email from Brian telling me to knock it off and that if I wanted to do that to head over to this particular thread. Well, I thought this was great! All this time I thought that I had to post randomly all over the board just to win. Now, here is the author himself telling me where to go. This is awesome. So, yesterday, I kept myself on this one thread and posted throughout the day. Once in a while I checked the winners list to see how I was doing. Yeah, then I noticed something.
People were winning from other threads.
Maybe I was confused. Didn't Mr. Keene tell me to go to this particular post and post there? I double checked the messages he sent. Yup! There it was, plain as day. Hmmmmm, this was confusing to an old fart like myself. So I emailed him back with that very same question. Here's what I got;

"People are free to post wherever they want. However, if you're going to post an icon every single minute (as you were doing yesterday) we prefer you to keep that contained to the Thread of Doom (as others are doing). Otherwise, myself and the mods have a hard time keeping track of legitimate conversations in those other threads."

Okay, this is a nice response using words like 'prefer' and 'free' to make sure I don't feel like I'm being told what to do. A majority of the icons I used, if viewed in the context of the thread, were actually clever responses to what was going on. Sure, some of them weren't, but a majority of them were. I'm trying to win a prize here. And that last sentence was bothering me.

"Otherwise, myself and the mods have a hard time keeping track of legitimate conversations in those other threads."

I know a few mods and the innocent, extra burden of a little run of icons being posted, probably fifty or so, is nothing compared to what a lot of mods have to deal with on any given message board. I had, in fact, already stopped doing it when I received the first message. So, here's the bottom line;

I quit. No not this blog, stupid, the game. I thought it would be fun to play. I read a lot of interesting things and responded intelligently to a number of them. The minute I try something for fun just to see my name on the entire message board I get called on it. Now, they will say things like:
"Well, we did tell him he was 'free' to post where ever and what ever he liked, we just 'prefer' that he didn't do exactly what it was that he was doing."
See how that works? They will use the words they provided to twist it in their favor and I'm fine with that. I know better.

After work, Martha picked me up and we went home to start dinner. While the chicken was baking we ran to the store to get gas and some essentials for the house. When we got home the lovely smell of baked chicken filled the air. I made some steamed broccoli and some oriental style rice to go with it. We watched NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 5: THE DREAM CHILD with Dandelion because we promised she could watch one of them for dinner. I hadn't seen that one in a while. Still pretty good stuff. Not as silly as some of the other entries. A little grim with some Argento styled twists in it. Not bad for the fifth in the series. Must have had something to do with that Skipp and Spector script.
After that Martha watched TEEN WOLF with Dan and I went up to review a flick, JUSTINE DE SADE. Alice Arno is quite lovely, but this flick was pretty dumb. Then it was nighty night time.