The blog is closing this year (I’ll make the official announcement later on), and this is likely my last ever blog post.
Okay, so I lied.  This  is the last-ever blog post.
Then again, I rather doubt anyone other than me will ever read this, so…
First things first: It was ten (10) years ago today – also a Saturday, as fate would have it – that I challenged the so-called Rev’r’nnnnnnnnnnd  Mykeru of the Church of the SubTarded – known forever hereinafter as “Mykki Chickenshit” – to come out from behind his M-1 and his inflatable dolls and $66-wielding sock puppets, and show up on my doorstep and spew his anti-Christian bullshit to my face.
And, as you all know by now…he never showed.  (Neither, for that matter, did his sock-puppet, “Von Vockerman”.  Or  that sixty-six small ($66 to you in the Church of the SubTarded) that I was offered to meet him “halfway” in Tennessee, come to think of it.
And in so not  doing, putting the exclamation point on my decades-long contention – that libtards are nothing more than chickenshits who talk reeeeeeeeeal  big when it’s just them and their keyboards – but put them face-to-face, mano a mano  with someone who’ll take quick exception…not so much, really.
Pity, Mykki.  You are now known forever as the coward who wouldn’t even stand up to a 50-year-old, out-of-shape fatass.
OTOH, I guess it does  beat having your swishy ass handed to you by that selfsame 50-year-old…so there’s that.
So you can relax now.  This is the last time you’ll ever be mentioned on these pages.
—
For that matter, this is the last time anything  will ever be mentioned on these pages.
As I stated back in January…this endeavor isn’t fun any more.  It’s work.  It’s tedium.  It’s a fucking chore.  Hell – it’s a massive effort to even write this, so how much enjoyment could I possibly get out of writing a blog that no one ever reads?  And let’s be honest here – long before the January “hiatus”, Spatula City BBS! was no longer being read – not even by the Six or Seven™.  When I said “screaming into the whirlwind”, I wasn’t kiddin’.
Even despite all that, it was  fun.  For a while.  Got to rant, got to rave, got to use whatever the hell language I wanted, got to call assholes & pussies just that – “assholes” and “pussies” – and never had to worry about some sysop or moderator or wannabe censor  coming along & rapping my knuckles.  Complete.  Freedom.
Damn,  that was a good feeling.
But…all good things, as they say.  It got to the point where it just wasn’t fun anymore.  There are only so many ways you can rail against something, and I ran out of them.  How many different ways, for example, can one say B. HUSSEIN!!!!  (one last time, for old times’ sake) Obambi is a Communist jackoff whose citizenship, to say nothing about his “qualifications” for office, are highly in question?  In how many different ways can you call the Kenyan bastard incompetent?  (Let me know if you figure it out.  I gave up trying quite some time ago.)
How many times can you challenge someone to “come say it to my face”?  Hell – even that’s  gotten old.  Very little point in doing it anymore, though it’s gotten a little traction on Twitchy every so often.
Even the Perfect Football Weekend™ became difficult to suck it up & do.  And then I never had time to do a proper recap, because work…well, work always  got in the way, but it was even more pronounced at the end.
And when something that used to be fun becomes a major bore…it’s time to hang it up and go do something else that’s more fun.  Or maybe more productive, at least.
—
All that said…that’s only part of the reason I’m hanging it up.
Before we get into all that, though, I wanna tell you about a guy I used to know named Willie Martin.
Willie was a real old guy, early 70s or so (mind you, this was back in the ’90s; I’m guessing he’s long gone by now), WWII vet, HAM radio operator, had one hellaciously hot daughter – a fact of which the old Spatulaites & Spatulaettes never failed to remind me. 
Willie was also an avowed racist.  Cheerfully admitted it, in fact.  Didn’t mind if you knew it, either.  He & I got into quite a few disagreements over it, in fact.  Never swayed him.
Back in Fidonet, Willie was persona non grata  on more than one BBS and/or echomail conference.  More than one mod sent me Netmail about blocking him from their particular fiefdom.  A couple even suggested that I dump him.
I ignored them all, and kept him around.  And I did it because I remembered what it was like to be told elsewhere that my opinions were no longer welcome.  And I never wanted that to happen to Willie.  Disagree with him as I did
, he had a right to be heard.  Opinions & beliefs don’t physically hurt anyone, and Willie was otherwise harmless.
Which brings me to the Rott.
For years, in addition to This Fine Blog™, I was also a moderator – more than a few folks referred to us as The Management™ – at Misha’s blog.  As long as we didn’t outright ban too many people, we were pretty much free to do what we wanted.
Enter a user that went by the name of Bruce. During one particular thread (no, I won’t mention which one; I don’t feel like giving them the trackback), Bruce made some vague reference that might – might – maybe have been construed as slightly racist.  Certainly wasn’t overt, and I paid it no mind.
Now, we all knew – or should have, anyway – that Bruce was harmless.  Vietnam vet.  Old as dirt.  In a wheelchair.  Anyone who even dared think that Bruce was a threat to anything probably needed to have his/her head closely examined.  Such an idiot would obviously not be operating with a full deck.  A few fries short of a Happy Meal©.  A couple cans short of a six-pack.  One tit shy of a hooker.
Enter a bitch that goes by the name of Nicki.
Nicki, who is known on the Rott as Misha’s sestrichka, went off on Bruce
, calling him every vile name in the book – and some that aren’t  in the book.  And I told her, in no uncertain terms, to knock it off.  And she’s, like, “Or what – are you gonna ban me or something?”
To be perfectly honest – my finger was hovering over that very button.  Click, click, as I’m wont to occasionally say.  The abuse of Bruce had been going on for some time, despite my attempts to shut it down, and I had by now signaled my intention to put a stop to it.
Enter Misha.
Misha said – again, in no uncertain terms (hell, he said it outright; how much more “no uncertain” can you get?) – that no one was going to be banned. And in so doing, yanked out of my hands the one tool I had for maintaining order on the Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler.
Holy betrayal, Batman.
Now, let’s get one thing straight:  I’m a firm believer in the concept of “my blog, my rules”.  That blog, and the accounts that oversee it, are the sole personal property of Emperor Misha. And as owner, he has the absolute right to dictate any rules, policies or procedures that govern his blog.  You will never, and I mean never, hear me say that Misha does not have the right to run his blog the way he sees fit.
On the other hand, up until that point he seemed not to have much (if any) problem with the manner in which I administrated the blog.  So to be told, straightaway, that I could no longer do my job was…well…shall we say, disheartening.
My response was immediate.
That’s all I needed to hear.
I quit.
Seriously, if you’re going to render your ghISnar  cat toothless, what the hell good is he?  And since I’d long since stopped being a regular commenter there, why did I need to hang around?
That episode, as much as anything else, pretty much dampened my enthusiasm for the whole blogging thing.  Not that I necessarily want to pin all (or any) of the blame on Misha, but I figured, being Management™, I at least outranked the sucksdicka – and it was sorta-kinda a blow to find out I didn’t.
And, quite frankly, I have better things to do than constantly have my legs yanked out from under me by folks I had  considered to be good friends.  What’s the old saying again?  With friends like that…?
—
So anyway, that’s it, in a nutshell.  Betrayed by friends, my own readership at zero, the whole experience no longer being much fun – there’s just no excuse to keep beating my head against the brick wall.
Spatula City BBS! is officially, now & forevermore, closed.  Even if I were to get back into this particular game, it would be under a new moniker.
As I said in the January post, this little hobby has taken up 23 years of my life.  Time to let Sy Greenbloom have his little toy back, and go do something else.
To quote Mr. Adams…so long, and thanks for all the fish.
Take care.
DB 201412240001
ALL PERSONNEL, please read enclosed.
THAT IS AN ORDER!
General Claus’ Visit
To: All Personnel
_1._ An official visit by MG Santa (NMI) Claus is expected at this headquarters 25 December 2014. The following instructions will be in effect and govern the activities of all personnel during the visit:
_a._ Not a creature will stir without official permission. This will include indigenous mice. Special stirring permits for necessary administrative actions will be obtained through normal command channels. Mice stirring permits will be obtained through the office of OSURG, Veterinary Services.
_b._ Personnel will settle their brains for a long winter nap prior to 2200 hours, 24 December 2014. Uniform for the nap will be: Pajamas, cotton, light, drowsing, with kerchief, general purpose, camouflage; and Cap, camouflage w/ear flaps. Equipment will be drawn from CIF prior to 1900 hours, 24 December 2014.
_c._ Personnel will utilize standard ration sugar plums for visions to dance through their heads. This item will be drawn from the servicing dining facility.
_d._ Stockings, wool, cushion sole, will be hung by the chimney with care. Necessary safety precautions will be taken to avoid fire hazards caused by carelessly hung stockings. Unit Safety Officers will submit stocking hanging plans to this headquarters prior to 0800 hours, 24 December 2014, ATTN: AEAGA-S, for approval.
_e._ At the first sign of clatter from the lawn, all troops will spring from their beds to evaluate noise and cause. Immediate action will be taken to tear open the shutters and throw open the window sashes. ODCSOPS Plan (Saint Nick), Reference LO No. 3, paragraph 6c, this headquarters, 2 February 1995, will be in effect to facilitate shutter tearing and sash throwing. Division chiefs will familiarize all personnel with procedures and are responsible for ensuring that no shutters are torn open nor window sashes thrown prior to start of official clatter.
_f._ Prior to 2400, 24 December 2014, all personnel will be assigned “Wondering Eye” stations. After shutters are thrown and sashes are torn, these stations will be manned.
_g. _ODCSLOG will assign one each Sleigh, miniature, M-66, and eight (8) deer, rein, tiny, for use of MG Claus’ driver who, in accordance with current directives and other applicable regulations, must have a valid SF 56 properly annotated by Driver Testing; be authorized rooftop parking and be able to shout “On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer and Vixen, up Comet, up Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen.”
_2._ MG Claus will enter quarters through standard chimneys. All units without chimneys will draw Chimney Simulator, M-6, for use during ceremonies. Chimney simulator units will be requested on Engineer Job Order Request Form submitted to the Furniture Warehouse prior to 19 December 2009, and issued on DA Form 3161, Request for Issue or Turn-In.
_3._ Personnel will be rehearsed on shouting “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.” This shout will be given on termination of General Claus’ visit. Uniformity of shouting is the responsibility of division chiefs.
__CHRISTOPHER K. RINGLE__
Colonel, US
OIC, Special Services
At ease, troops. 
This actually happened a while back, but it seems that not all Federal judges have drank the “marriage equality” koolaid. Check this out.
My friends, on this day in 1945, Germany surrendered and the European side of World War II came to a close. The problem is that many, of not most of our countrymen have no idea of this, they have no understanding of just how many gave their lives to drive back tyranny.
I would like to request that each of you who read this, tell at least two others of the heroism of our soldiers in that war so many years ago. let’s impress upon them the fact that had we not won that war, the world would be a much worse place than it is today.
This has been making the email rounds. Looks like it just might have possibilities:
What a clever idea! Yes, Christmas cards. This is coming early so that you can get
ready to include an important address to your list.
Want to have some fun this CHRISTMAS? Send the ACLU a CHRISTMAS CARD this year.
As they are working so very hard to get rid of the CHRISTMAS part of this holiday, we should all send them a nice, CHRISTIAN card to brighten up their dark, sad, little world.
Make sure it says “Merry Christmas” on it.
Here’s the address, just don’t be rude or crude. (It’s not the Christian way, you know.)
ACLU
125 Broad Street
18th Floor
New York , NY 10004
Two tons of Christmas cards would freeze their operations because they wouldn’t know if any were regular mail containing contributions.
So spend 44 cents and tell the ACLU to leave Christmas alone.
Also tell them that there is no such thing as a “Holiday Tree”. . . It’s always been called a CHRISTMAS TREE!
And pass this on to your email lists. We really want to communicate with the ACLU! They really DESERVE us!!
For those of you who aren’t aware of them, the ACLU, (the American Civil Liberties Union) is the one suing the U.S. Government to take God, Christmas or anything Christian away from us. They represent the atheists and others in this war.
Help put Christ back in Christmas!
Denizens, I have a special prayer request today for you guys:
Not sure if I ever mentioned this, but late last year the Mothergoose from Denton was forced by the state (albeit indirectly) to close her home-based water testing business.  (A license the state said she needed to continue was cost-prohibitive to acquire.)  Thus, she became a statistic.  She’s managed to glom onto a job in a lab with low pay and a massive (try three hours one-way) commute, but she’s at least got a job for now.
Now for the request:  She’s got a bead on a possible new position that pays a little more (barely), but with only a 50-minute commute.  She has a good chance of getting this job, but she could use our prayers, nonetheless.
Thanks, guys.
Denizens, there will be a slight delay in posting the Resolutions™ for 2009, as well as the Year in Review.
(Translation:  I don’t feel much like writing right now.  Bleh.)
Hang tight.
Those of you who have not yet registered to comment here will need to use another email address besides Gmail.
Because of spambots that are trying to invade ThisFineBlog™, I’ve had to blacklist that domain.
Sorry.  Hopefullly, at some point, I can turn Gmail back on.
ThatIsAll™.
Denizens, I have three major posts to work on – well, two majors and a minor, anyway (grin) – so between now and Thursday, there’ll probably be a lot of Grab-Bag™ stuff.
It’ll still be good, don’t get me wrong – but you’ll probably have seen it before.
(General, if you have anything original, now’d be a good time.)
ThatIsAll™.
As of right now, I’m as ashamed to be an American as I’ve ever been.  And I’m ashamed to be a resident of Dallas County.
Happily, I can correct the latter.  Fixing the former will take some doing.
Barack HUSSEIN!!!  Obambi, the Manchurian Muslim, the Dickless Wonder, the “Messiah”, Jugears McHopenchange, managed to steal the election last night with the help of: a) the Lame Stream Mediots™, who have cast aside all pretense of being in the tank for this feckless jackass, b) ACORN, who couldn’t illegally register enough illegal voters fast enough, and c) illegal aliens, who benefited not only from ACORN’s tactics, but from election officials who couldn’t – or wouldn’t – take the time & effort needed to make sure that legal citizens’ votes  retained their full value.
And in Dallas County, a bunch of stupid-assed elitist bastards managed to shove an incompetent lesbian down our throats again for the office of sheriff.  Thanks to an assload of illegal alien voting, I’ll soon be looking for residence in an adjoining county.  One which doesn’t have its head up its socialist ass.
And to add insult to injury, the fucking damnfool extra-chromosome jackasses in western Pennsylvania put Benedict Murtha back in office.
Shit-for-brains fuckheads, all of you.
About the only good things to come out of yesterday’s elections were that the faggots got their dicks cut off and handed to them, and that enough Minnesotans woke up and figured out that no, he’s not good enough or smart enough, and he’s not really that well liked.
But now I have about 62 million enemies.  And I’m serious about what’s up on the banner – if you voted for that son-of-a-bitch Obambi, you’re now my enemy.  Anything I can legally do to make your life a living hell, I’ll do it.  And I’m going to give your illegal occupier of the White House exactly  the amount of respect you gave George W. Bush – that is to say, less than fuckin’ zero.
From this point forward, Jugears McHopenchange will be known by his formal title, the Ayatollah Obambi.  His bitch-of-a-wife will be known as the First Stupid Cunt™ Cupid Stunt™.  (Apologies to cunts.)  His fuckfaced little excuse-for-an-administration will be known as Al-Obambi.
And every bad thing that happens to the Unites States from this point forward, whether it’s the economy, teen pregnancy, downturns in the war or a fucking hangnail on the right little toe of Joe The Plumber™, will be fully blamed on B. HUSSEIN!!!  Obambi.
This is what you asked for, you retarded liberal fucks.
Get used to it.  I’m through being nice.
Okay, Denizens, without going into too much detail (for fear we’ll jinx it, y’know), we’re closing in on new Realm™ Headquarters.
MERLIN:  Y’don’t say?!
KORRIOTH:  About farkin’ time!!
OZY MCCOOL:  Finally!!!
KORRIOTH:  (slaps McCool upside the head) Shut up!  You haven’t even been  here six months!!!
OZY MCCOOL:  (rubs head gingerly) Have too!!!
LSIK&T:  You’re forgetting the time he spent as a cadet, Korrioth.
KORRIOTH:  Oh, right!  In that cushy little dormitory where the Earthers sleep!
LSIK&T:  Earthers like me, Railroad-track Head?
KORRIOTH:  (opens his mouth, remembers whom he’s addressing, thinks better of it) Uh…you know what I meant, m’Lord.
LSIK&T:  (grunt)
Start praying, guys.  If all goes well, we can actually start planning Texas Blogfest ’07.
THE SPATULAGODDESS™:  About time, hon.
LSIK&T:  Yeah, yeah, yeah…
Denizens, I’m going to be out of pocket for a few days.
As you may or may not know, I’m taking one final whack at the matrimony thingie, beginning today at around 3:00.  (The Emperor and the SpatulaGoddess will be there, and if you’re reeeeeal nice to ’em, they might just blog on the experience, mheh.)
When I come back, I’ll have a Major Announcement™ for you guys.  Stay tuned.
Thatisall™.
UPDATE:  Oh, guys, you are not gonna believe  the surprise La Reina Espatula™ & I got tonight for dinner.
Full report plus pictures forthcoming.  Especially  watch this space.
Memo to The Six Or Seven Of You Who Still Read This Blog™:
I’ve been trying to stay ahead of a medical condition that’s plagued me for the last ten-plus years or so.  (Those of you who know me well know what I’m talking about.)
Anyway, the bastich has caught up and smacked me upside the head again, necessitating a probable, slight change in routine.
Bottom line:  Posting will be even more erratic than it is now.  We’ll have the annual Memorial Day post tomorrow, then posting will be on an as-I-can-get-to-it basis. (IOW, standard operating procedure, only moreso.)
Will have more on the medical condition soon as I have it under control.  Watch this space.
Presumably, it happened around 12:25 this morning, though I tend to doubt that.
Whatever, visitor number 50,000 has now happened by this particular site.
Thanks to all who’ve graced me with your presence.  Yes, even you fuckheaded libtards.  Yes, even that limpwristed plays-with-inflatable-dolls chickenshit, Michael “Mykki” Cortese.
Here’s to the next 50,000.
LC & IB Delftsman reminds us that it’s Holocaust Rememberance Day – also known as “Give the Iranian President a Dirty Swirly Day”, but that’s another post – and we stop down, remember, and mourn our Jewish brethren.
Delfts’ father was nearly a fatality of the Holocaust, and gave Focus on the Family  an interview last week on his experiences, which you are cordially invited to go check out.