Here at nikbv we're constantly working to improve the quality of our service. After all, our brand name (nikbv, for those confused few) represents everything we have here on teh intranetz. However, we've decided that it's time to begin making that brand name into more than just that, but also into a mighty empire. So, as a result, we've taken steps in that direction. Because we here at nikbv have a dream. Not just for our own humble blog, but for all of Xanga; nay, for the entire internet. We can expand, and we must expand.

Xanga doesn't have to die out, because it doesn't have to hide in its little island! Help Xanga to exist within the wider world, and it will flourish. Facebook usage went up over 248% last year and Twitter increased by 1,164% That's amazing! Instead of considering those users lost to Xanga, interact with them, and they will surely visit us just as we visit them.

I like mustard.

I've long been fond of the yellow condiment. Spicy, bland, Dijon, and even honey. In fact, I had some delicious old style mustard just today with my lunch (a roast beef sandwich, you know). However, it did more than simply reinforce my delight in the golden seasoning. It also got me thinking about why, exactly, I make sure to include a dash of mustard in all of my sandwiches. The obvious answer would be the delightful variety of tastes and flavours offered, to compliment any meal. However, I think the true answer is so much more than only that. Upon consideration, I realised my enduring fondness dates to my own youth.


I was a young libertarian growing up in a strictly military Italy. Mussolini was on the rise, and personal freedom was quickly becoming a thing of the past. However, as a rebellious youth, pumped full of dangerous ideas by Western music and books, I came to desire some way to act out against the government. 

The colour yellow came to represent our cause. We started at first with small things - a handkerchief or armband, but soon moved on from there. Yellow socks, shirts, hats; some even painted their shoes a golden hue. We were crazy kids, of course, but we were on a mission - to liberate society, one sandwich at a time. And it began to work. 

The colour yellow started appearing everywhere. Banners and flags were hung from signposts and building tops, walls were spray-painted, and fields of daffodils began mysteriously cropping up all over the countryside. It was pandemonium. But it wasn't to last.

Eventually, I grew up, and expanded my horizons to other condiments as the memories of Italy began to fade, but every once in a while, when the wind is blowing just so, and the sun shines brightly down, I take a sniff of that sweet mustard smell, and it all comes flooding back. Yellow truly is the colour of freedom.

I've got a great new idea for Xanga. One that'd shake things up around here, and bring new life to a tired old system. I'd like to propose a new -ish site, (or at least, a xanga site imitating an -ish site). I would call this site... Polish...

Vote now, and together, we can make a difference!

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 Philosophers have explained space.  They have not explained time.  It
is the inexplicable raw material of everything.  With it, all is possible;
without it, nothing.  The supply of time is truly a daily miracle, an
affair genuinely astonishing when one examines it.  You wake up in
the morning, and lo! your purse is magically filled with twenty-four
hours of the unmanufactured tissue of the universe of your life!  It is
yours.  It is the most precious of possessions.  A highly singular
commodity, showered upon you in a manner as singular as the
commodity itself!

For remark!  No one can take it from you.  It is unstealable.  And no
one receives either more or less than you receive.

Talk about an ideal democracy!  In the realm of time there is no aristocracy
of wealth, and no aristocracy of intellect.  Genius is never rewarded by even
an extra hour a day.  And there is no punishment.  Waste your infinitely
precious commodity as much as you will, and the supply will never be
withheld from you.  No mysterious power will say:--"This man is a fool,
if not a knave.  He does not deserve time; he shall be cut off at the meter."  
It is more certain than consols, and payment of income is not affected by
Sundays.  Moreover, you cannot draw on the future.  Impossible to get into
debt!  You can only waste the passing moment.  You cannot waste to-
morrow; it is kept for you.  You cannot waste the next hour; it is kept for you.

                       -How to Live on Twenty-Four Hours a Day (Arnold Bennett)

So this morning I made myself some fresh orange juice to go with my breakfast. And as I enjoyed the sweet, delicious goodness I was reminded of just how different it was from store-bought orange juice. So I had a glass of that stuff afterwards, and let me tell you, when directly comparing, it becomes pretty obvious how artificial even the 'fresh, pure' orange juice from the green grocer really is.

If only juicing the stuff wasn't so time consuming and wasteful (how many oranges does it take to make a glass of juice?!). Oh well, maybe it's water for breakfast too...

So I says to Bob, I says, you can’t do that! You don’t know all the facts involved! And he says to me, he says, I do too! Crazy woman, you ain’t got no idea of all them complications! All that thar book larnin’ is giving you far too many high falootin’ indears. I think yous gots ta go and get a book ta burn it, not ta read it! Rots your mind! Luckily, a’course, I didn’t pay him no mind, see, but still I wasn’t too pickled by the whole deal.

So, after Bob gone an’ left, I made sure I found mah shotgun. I said to myself, I said, if Bob thar is gonna be all condescending and whatnot, I gotta make sure I’m ready! If he tries nothing, I’ll blow his there head clean off! ‘Course, I wasn’t such a good shot since that dang pig went and kicked my eye, but nonetheless I could hit the backside of a bucking bronco at 20 paces. So, I gots my shotgun, and I went out into the barn to try and rangle up some support from Billy, the farm hand. 

source

Billy and I had been friends for a while now, but I wasn’t sure I could trust him. Him and Bob were real good friends, see. Them two had just gotten back from a tractor pull, and you don’t go to one o’ them with a fella you ain’t good and close to. Lucky like for me, though, he wasn’t too keen on Bob at the moment, on account o’ the fact that Bob had eaten the pointer of his big foam finger at the pull, thinking it was cotton candy. So, Billy was sour, and I figured the time was ripe for my asking o’ him to join my side.

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Billy, I said, Billy, listen here. Bob said to me, he said, I’m all too full o’ high falootin’ idears! Now, you knows me, Billy, I ain’t one to take no crap from nobody! So, Billy, we gots ta do some’in’ about it. I’m thinkin’ we take this here shotgun, an’ we go blow ‘is head off! An I waved my gun about, all dramatic-like.

Lucky for me, Billy had gone and bent over to pick up his own gun from the bundle ‘o hay at his feet, ‘cause my finger went an’ slipped clear onto the trigger, and dang near blow’d his brains out. That would’a been trouble for me, ‘cause I reckon blood’d be pretty hard to clean off the barn walls. I didn’t mind so much the thought o’ getting blood on the inside of the house, ‘cause it was a tip most days anyhow, but the farm was where the animals lived! Them cows fed me an my entire brood o’ kids, so I figured I gots ta protect ‘em from the sight o’ blood if I can’t do nothin’ else.

Anyway, at this point after all my soliloquizing Billy an’ I had nearly reached the house, an’ I think by now both of us felt good an’ ready to do of a murder. Unfortunately, when I got to the door, I couldn’t open it! That dang Bob had gone and shoved some chair or some’n’ ‘gainst the other side, an’ I couldn’t budge it! I told Billy ta give it the ol’ shoulder, but he doggone-well bruises easier than a peach, so I had to do it myself. ‘Course, I got a pretty fair set o’ shoulders after all that cow-chucking we practise down this way, in order ta move them cattle from one field to the next. It don’t hurt ‘em much, an’ it’s a lot o’ fun, but it sure does tire them arms ‘less you know what your doin’.

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After I battered the door ta little bits, I went to pick up my gun, but I couldn’t find it nowhere! Then it went an’ dawned on me that Billy had also gone an’ disappeared! Dang it, I yelled, you get back here wit’ my gun, Billy, but he ain’t nowhere to be seen, so I went into the kitchen to fetch me a knife. Then, I thought about it, and picked up a fryin’ pan, too. If Billy took my gun, I’d need some’n’ ta deal with him as well as Bob. I figured they were likely both against me now, but that didn’t halfin’ matter now much to me. Killin’ one measly coward of a man was as easy as killin’ two.

In light of the tremendous success and adulation that the previous series brought with it (It wouldn't be an exaggeration to think of Beatlemania and supplicants visiting at 2 am asking for babies) I’ve decided to continue along the repetitive strain by creating a new series which I hope will receive as many awards as the previous ones have. Now, as I’m sure you’re all familiar with the premise of our most recent series, I won’t have to remind you that it involved much group interaction. That’s fun, of course – a lot of people enjoy the opportunity to get involved, but for this series I’d like to rebalance things a little, and shift them back towards onesided presentation. So, all that said, I’d like to introduce you to Credible Creations of Catchphrases!. Herein, I shall take it upon myself to examine a few select terms or phrases that have become common throughout the English language (or at least as far as modern vernacular is concerned). I think that my 45 years experience in linguistics qualify me for this topic (not to mention my 7 degrees, 2 of which have something to do with linguistics, if you squint a little.)

However, successful whalers quickly learned that whales have a crucial weak spot - their flukes. Whalers discovered that this spot, unlike the body of the whale, had much thinner skin, and a great many blood vessels close to the surface, and a solid hit would cause the whale to bleed to death in only a few minutes. However, it was quite difficult to hit, being relatively small, and in constant motion. Thus, should a whaler manage to hit the whale's fluke with the harpoon, this fluke shot, or fluke, was a lucky but successful shot! Unfortunately, the context of the phrase has fallen away, and all we remember today is the word "fluke," and the definition.

Thar she blows!

So there you have it! The first part of another patented nikbv series! Be sure to recommend so that everybody can enjoy as much as we have! Also, feel free to suggest further topics for discussion in later episodes!

Okay folks, here it is! The event you've been waiting for all week. Part 3 of our exciting new series, Name that Fruit!

Today's fruit is hard, acidic, and needs bletting - that's right, you guessed it, it's the Medlar!

Now it's your turn - Rate that Fruit!

So I know you've all been up nights from the excitement and the waiting, so here it is! Today's fruit is a good one! And remember, keep things interesting and individual. When rating the fruit, rate it however you want!

Anyway, here we go, xangans; today's fruit is the Toyon! (no doubt known to many of you fruit fanatics as Heteromeles arbutifolia.)

Now it's your turn - Rate that Fruit!