WordPress mobile app makes me want to bite my phone sometimes. 

Is it just me, or is the WordPress mobile app quirky and unruly? I mean I know that my level of tech savvy is slightly lower than that of a large pile of gravel (I could make a typewriter crash in high school typing class long before computers took over the role of my victim), but my level of frustration with this app seems even higher than my normal level of angst.

The mobile app constantly refuses to obey my spacing commands while drafting a post. Sometimes the draft doesn’t even match the published post, making me think I’ve become delusional, or more delusional than normal.

Sometimes when I hit the little “follow” under a bloggers name, it turns to “following” for one second, and then returns to “follow” . . . . I played this game for ten minutes one time before deciding that it just wasn’t in WordPress’s will for me to follow the particular blog.

The typing of posts seems more glitchy than typing texts or any other typing I do in other apps . . . Or maybe my frustration with the WordPress app causes my thumbs to swell?

And as far as WordPress in general, I originally couldn’t figure out how I could end up with more likes than views on a post. I was then told that when posts are read in the Reader, they do not show up on a hit counter . . . . So what in the actual $?@! is a hit counter for? It’s more like a “some of your hits” counter. I don’t have what I would call a mass following, so I value seeing all those views lost to Reader. Is this some way to cheat people who have ads enabled out of money?

And while I’m in rant mode, why doesn’t WordPress send me a free Tshirt that says, “Born to Blog”, or a coffee mug? Why don’t they file my taxes and scoop up the dog poop in my yard? 


. . . . Ok, maybe I’m getting a little carried away. That’s why I tend to avoid ranting posts.

The Danger of Pancakes.

I love pancakes. My kids love pancakes. Sometimes I make them shaped like animals because my girls think it’s the greatest thing in the world. Sometimes I make pancakes for dinner.

The only problem with pancakes is the fact that pancakes involve maple syrup. And maple syrup involves stickiness.

Even as an adult, I cannot seem to manage to get through a pancake meal with out being plagued by stickiness. I try hard to contain the syrup and its stickiness properties to the end of my fork, but without fail, it will work its way up to my fingers. From my fingers, it will then travel to forearms, face, shirt, the table top, and even the dogs head.

My young girls fare even worse. By the time they have finished their animal shaped pancakes, their sticky hands and faces have collected pancake crumbs, lint, dog and cat hair, small pieces of napkin, and whatever else happens to be a floating around. They end up looking like a mop just before you rinse all the crud off of it. And heaven forbid the syrup gets stuck in their hair. 

If one is not careful, the stickiness can spread from my daughters to the table, chairs, pets, door knobs, toys, and nearly every other surface in the entire house. 

I’ve often thought that a man could get rich if he invented syrup that wasn’t sticky. But until someone does, a next best remedy might be to make young children eat pancakes naked in the bathtub. That way as soon as they are finished, you can just turn on the shower and wash all the stickiness away.

Flattapuss Blog Picks.

Each Week I post a few blogs that have caught my interest while surfing the Blogosphere, or by bloggers who have visited my own humble site.

This weeks Flattapuss blog picks:

First off, the blogs of a few people I actually know outside the computer world:

The Seekers Of
I am Phil Owen

And now some people I’ve met in the Blogosphere:

My Friday Blog
Guy vs Life
Edwina’s Episodes

Check out these blogs and give them a follow if they fit your blogging fancy!

There is no room in this world for people who can’t handle change . . . and I’m one.

At least once a month, if not more, I bring up my email on the computer, or open some app on my phone only to find that the creators of said email or app have deemed it in my best interest to completely re-arrange the layout and change how you perform different functions. Google, Windows, Itunes, Facebook, even WordPress . . . . . all guilty.

I suppose for the very forward thinking tech lovers, this might be akin to opening a present at Christmas. Or maybe it has the feel of rearranging the living room furniture into a new and exciting configuration.

But to me, a computer and smart phone dullard, this is no different than taking me in my sleep, transporting me to an unfamiliar house in a small town in Albania, and having people whose language I can’t speak act as if they are my wife and kids when I wake up. No different.

It is rare that I that I have even mastered the previous versions of apps and emails before they decide to change them.

Not too long ago, it was Gmail that decided I had become way too accustomed to how it operates. I woke up one morning, and all my emails had been sorted into categories like “important” or “work” and then the plain old “in box”. Once again, I found myself in the Gmail version of Albania.

Worse yet, I could not for the life of me figure out how Google determined which emails went to which folder. In all honesty I felt violated. Not just violated, but embarrassed as well, because shortly after the new sorting of my emails began, the ones with the subject “Penis Enlargement” began to appear in my “important” box.


Could Google see me getting into the shower through my phone? Had my wife secretly been communicating with Google concerning this issue?

The older I get, the harder these little email and app adjustments become. The only thing worse, is getting a new phone or TV or something like that. A new phone or a new “smart TV” causes me great anxiety and can take me months to learn.

Luckily, I have two daughters who grew up in this digital age. They seem to know how to work all these apps, programs, phones, TV’s and every other manner of gadget. It’s as if they were born with the instinct I just use my daughters like little voice operated remotes until I am able to learn the technology myself.

“Make the TV record all the Simpsons” or “find out when Axe Men is on.”


I will see you all on Monday, I’m taking a weekend off from blogging 🙂

Poetry Challenge (I don’t claim to be a poet).

I am certainly no poet, and I know it. But I was challenged by Elle Superstar to the “Love in ten sentences” Challenge. I had to write a ten line poem with the word Love in each line, and only four words per line. It proved to be quite tricky.

Sooo, here it is:


There’s love in pancakes
There’s love in kisses
There’s love in silence
There’s love in laughter
There’s love in debate

Love shapes the pancakes
Love causes the kisses
Love speaks in silence
Love sparkles with laughter
Love endures the debate

Of course, I am also to nominate other bloggers. This part of the process is the hard part for me. I am always afraid I’m “imposing” on the victim of my nomination or challenge. Many people are thrilled to be tapped for such things, but I think some are not so much. Anyhow, here are some challenge-ees

These three young ladies at DIY Just Cuz should be able to put their heads together and come up with some prose.

And I would have challenged the ever-poetic Sophie, but I see she has already taken the challenge so I won’t make her do it again.

So lets get another guy to weigh in on love (tee-hee!) and nominate Cookies Dad. . . . . Sorry bro.

Also Trudy so we can get a New York perspective on Love.

Finally, Cats at the Bar may be able to shed light on the Feline view of Love.

Oh yes, one more thing. I am also supposed to share my favorite love quote. Hmmmmmm, How about this”

“Love hurts, love scars, love wounds and harms any heart not tough or strong enough . . . . ”

Ode To My Couch.

I was just nominated by Elle Superstar to write a poem with a lot of rules. It’s going to take me some time to complete that challenge, so in the meantime, here is a poem I wrote as sort of a warm up for the challenge:

Ode to my Couch

I love you, couch
You never mind if I slouch,

Nor seem to fret or much care,
If I sit in my underwear.

Your cracks hide the chips,
That fall from my lips.

Your cushions filter the gas,
That I sometimes must pass.

Like a baby in the womb,
Or a mummy in a tomb,

On you I can lay,
And nap in the day.

I love you couch.

The State of the Blog Address.

I am almost two whole months into this world of blogging, and I am really happy with the way things seem to be going. 

I had previously tried putting my ridiculous stories on a Facebook page (one other than the one that mirrors my blog) and I just didn’t like the feel of it. People seemed more snarky and critical. People had a tendency to take me too seriously. For some reason, the blogging community seems to be more civil.

I am also thrilled that there are some of you out there with minds that slant in the same basic direction as mine, and I am grateful for all of you who read my absurdities. 

Thank you!

I feel bad that I can’t seem to find the time to visit your blogs as much as I would like. I almost can’t keep up with responding to comments on my own posts.

As a 46 year old who climbs trees for a living, I often spend my evenings in a fetal position on the couch whimpering like a beaten puppy. Or some nights, I fall asleep before I can even finish dinner, resulting in my waking up the next morning with a half eaten piece of pizza still hanging out of my mouth.

I need to slow down a bit on posting so that I can spend more of my limited time surfing other blogs. But being an impulsive person, when I have an idea, I just can’t wait to get it typed and posted. 

I’m sure as time goes on, I will find ways to work blogging into my schedule more efficiently.

Thank you all for making this a truly enjoyable experience so far!


Today, while taking my shower, I ran out of body wash so I had to finish using shampoo as a replacement.

Whenever this happens I have a phobia that there will be chemicals in the body wash and shampoo that are not compatible, and my body will suddenly burst into flames or explode.