Just call my Liesl.   Busy times, as always:   the stretch from sixteen to seventeen is a huge one, from both a blogging and a jailbait point of view.   In both, it seems the anticipation outweighs the outcome...you're waiting, expecting, hoping for something new, a grand change, an explosion of realization that what was before is no longer -- but, then, everything's the same.   I'm still a blogger, and a seventeen year old girl knows no more than she did the day before.  That's why Liesl needs Rolf:   he's got a bunch of really creepy lines in the song, in case you never listened close enough.  If I were a young girl and some older guy who wanted to get into my panties was singing to me about how men wanted to write their story on my blank slate, well,  the innuendo there is thick enough for even the most naiive ingenue.   Me, I'm no ingenue;  I've been blogging for 8 years now, online for 15, so I'm dominating this whole internet thing.     Sadly, the internet isn't a spring chicken, though, and stays a step ahead of me.   So much happens online that I can barely keep up;   time moves so fast, and, well, blogging suffers for it.   So much does change between sixteen and seventeen online, that when you look back, it's quite clearly a lost and gone age.   Liesl and the internet:  dissimilar things.   Remember that.

Anyways, yesterday I was ordered to blog -- here's how it went down:

"You should put that in your blog."

Um, well, maybe it started a little before that....let's back up.

I'm working, and the office is being rather loud; I'd already had to interrupt a 15-minute conversation that, while not a problem in itself, replaced rather than enhanced the work;   four employees completed three documents.   That should have happened in around 20 seconds, but I digress.   The weather is nice, everyone's returning with full stomachs from their mealbreak, and the debate is over the proper descriptor for a Mr. Pibb.    Pop, soda, soft-drink.

"Why do they call it a soft drink?" was asked of me.

"Drinks with liquor are 'hard' drinks.  A 'soft' drink is non-alcoholic, and started really being used during Prohibition, to tell them apart."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You should put that in your blog."

"Maybe."

"People need to know that."

"That I blog?"

"No -- why they're soft drinks.  You should put that online so everybody knows."

Well, I'd be late to the game;   I think I learned it on the Anheuser-Busch tour in St Louis in 1988.  On the scale of the internet, that would be around the time that people first tied a rock to a stick to help their hunting skills.    The internet desires new things.

Sadly, there's so many new things to put in my blog:  I could do it all day long, like the Wifey, but that doesn't bring in quite as much as working for The Man.   Most of the new things I need to put online are actually quite old things:   the Rusk Auto-House, further history of theAOUW, creepy pictures of old guys and little kids, and the fastest painter in the world, and the Idelkope building.  At Collector's Quest, I wrote about a list of all the cool old things people can collect,  old foreign money, several articles(1 - 2 - 3) on how museums take care of old things, and another list on all the cool old computers people can collect., and I even touch on how I steal old bricks when necessary.  And that is only the tip of the iceberg of my old links.  Well, new links to you -- that little gap between sixteen and seventeen was big enough to let a whole lot of stuff slip through.  Don't blink when it comes to the internet -- things move so fast, you can hardly keep up.  I know I can't.

Today's music selection comes from the fact that I drove to the White Banner in Grand Forks to internetiffy them this past week.   Hours alone in the van == listening to whatever the hell I want.   The Revolting Cocks sound like a madeup band name from a 1st-season episode of WKRP, but they were a real group; actually a side-project of Ministry.  Beers, Steers, and Queers was an earlier record that got more airplay, but I like Linger Ficken Good better;   more industrial, less dancy.   The Do Ya Think I'm Sexy? cover is excellent.