I HATE fucking change, sometimes.
Due to an unfortunate accident during the latest attempt to build a Death Star that doesn't have the same weakness of that stupid exhaust port the rebels keep finding (I used to peg Womprats from my T-16 trainer back home, and they're not much bigger than 2 meters), the appearance of this word vomit has changed.
One of the really great things about Blogger (and to be fair, there aren't all that many) is that it is easy to use, so that those who are HTML-challenged (or who would rather not bother writing their own HTML because this is a) boring, and b) an unpleasant chore I would liken to receiving a battery acid enema) could use a lovely bunch of drag-and-drop tools to design a blog page that didn't look as if it weren't concocted by a kindergartner from construction paper and crayons.
So, here I was, minding my own business, about to punch up the appearance of this thing when -- lo and behold! -- the toolset one would normally use to do such things quickly and easily disappeared midway through the project.
Which meant I had to revert to one of the so-called "Standard Templates" that were available if I wanted to keep the damned page, at all. Hence, the webpage that appears as if it were designed by an effeminate interior decorator. Right down to the ghastly color scheme, and 1950's art deco appearance which reminds me of yet another reason why I hate Baby Boomers.
Either this is a temporary glitch, or, Heaven Forbid!, I will be forced to re-do this stuff with my own HTML skillzzz, which is going to make this temperamental (emphasis on "mental") dictator very angry, indeed, as this is a huge time suck and often aggravating as hell.
You do not wish to see me angry. While the resulting expression of full menstrual fury is often hilarious, it can get quite messy. And this corner of the Universe is rather messy enough, already, don't you think?
Therefore, until Your Overlord has fixed this problem (preferably by taking a branding iron and a cattle prod to whatever 20-something code monkey at Google thought she (it's usually a "she") would get a raise and recognition in the toxic-male-dominated cesspit of injustice which is a cubicle farm in Silicon Valley for suggesting this sort of otherwise-useless and unnecessary change to Standard Operating Procedure) you will have deal with something which visually suggests that I'm transitioning.
And not in the good way.
But, now that I think about it, if I were transitioning in the other way, I would at least get to invent my own personal pronoun. I think I might opt for MXZ (to be pronounced "Mixzess", get it right, or I'll sue, dammit), which will represent my newly-created, self-bestowed identity of "Curmudgeonly old fuck who wonders why someone needs to "fix" shit that already works...of color".
It always shames the woke more when you add "of color". Sends them into an absolute tizzy of guilt.
In the meantime, I decree that laughter is banned in this quadrant of the galaxy, particularly if it is aimed at me.
Remember, I have the power to choke you from across the room with my thumb and index finger.
Update: Now we're getting somewhere....