So I imported all the old blog entries from Movable Type into this WordPress installation, mucked about with some pre-made themes as I haven’t been bothered to sort a brand new one out (more on that in a sec), and here we are. Now I’ll just have to start writing some stuff again.
So yeah, a redesign. Boothy has done a new design which is ace, but I don’t know if I can be fucked figuring out yet another theme syntax for getting it to play nicely with WordPress. So for now I’m using a theme developed by someone else (with some minor customisations) called ‘Hemingway‘ which isn’t too far from what I wanted anyway.
{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
hello sir
Good afternoon gentlemen.
Somebody set us up the website.
alert(‘parp’);
hexa is like arnie in junior
liampb Private First Class
Accuracy 14.71%
SPM 0.60
Suicides 4
K/D Ratio 0.21
public void postComment() {
System.out.println(“hay whats up”);
}
all you’s is gays
HUDSON
This floor’s freezing.
APONE
Christ. I never saw such a
buncha old women. You want me
to fetch your slippers, Hudson?
HUDSON
Would you, Sir?
TERMINATOR
Hey, Janelle, what’s wrong with Wolfy? I can
hear him barking. Is he okay?
JANELLE
(filtered)
Wolfy’s fine, honey. Where are you?
IMMIGRATION OFFICER
Have you brought any fruits or
vegetables onto the planet?
FAT LADY
Two weeks.
He stops himself from hammering down with the seal.
IMMIGRATION OFFICER
Excuse me…?
Fat Lady covers her mouth, embarrassed.
FAT LADY
(loud)
Two weeks.
Richter glances at the Fat Lady but keeps walking toward the
exit.
EVERETT
And things are getting hot around here.
The rebels took over the refinery last
night. No turbinium’s going out.
THE FAT LADY is having some kind of fit. She keeps repeating
the same phrase over and over, each time SLOWER and MORE
DISTORTED, like a phonograph record running down. Everybody
stares at the poor woman. She holds her mouth and tries to
shut herself up.
FAT LADY
Twooo weeeks. Twoooooo weeeks.
Twooooooo weeeeeeks.
Now we’ll be right back after these messages, fellas grab yer nut-sacks, chics squeeze yer breasticies!
Jones is back up in the hizzousss.