...I think I quit blogging.

Very busy lately.

I have started collecting weird soda cans again, though.

The other day, while letting my mind wander, I was trying to remember the name of my childhood teddy bear and couldn't. For some reaon, I find this vaguely depressing.

because on my way to work this morning, I walked out the door and looked at the sky, and there was a long thin cloud that looked like a contrail after it's drifted apart for a while going vertically up across the sky, and another cloud just like it and perpedicular to it. Making a big cross in the sky. On Good Friday, that's right. Pretty cool even for dialectic materialists.

My primary partition refuses to boot, my cassrole came out runny, and I watched American Idol for the first time today. It's hard to avoid the conclusion that my life is a meaningless travesty.

Until the happy day when I become Mr. Kellie Pickler, of course. Then it will suddenly all have been worth it.

This is to be played whenever I enter the room, or optionally, whenever I do or say something especially striking: Buck 65 - The Centaur

Extra Credit

I have had for several days a strange physical symptom, a taste in my mouth that is everpresent, not a bad or even unpleasant taste, but a strange taste that I can't quite identify or describe, a heavy liquid taste like somthing greasy and slightly sweet on the roof of my mouth. No matter how much I brush, floss, rinse or gargle, it doesn't go away for long. It sits there in my mouth. There's probably a very simple and reasonable explanation for this phenomenon, but the explanation I find most compelling is that this is the only symptom of some rare tropical disease that no one ever gets anymore, and has never gotten before in the western hemisphere, and that if not treated with rare and expensive medicines will inevitably lead to a slow, painful, and highly undignified death. Probably involving massive facial swelling and paranoid dementia.

Also my network card is bugging out. I need a new everything.

Occasionally I have ideas for short comic videos that are unquestionably great, brilliant ideas, but I am far too busy/lazy/untalented (choose your favorite) to ever get these videos made. So, someone out there with a video camera and some free time, shoot this script for me:
(SCENE: Father is driving the minivan thru a classic suburban landscape, with four kids in the back, playing and getting rowdy. Father looks back at them and smiles indulgently)
Minivan: $17,000
(We pull up in a parking lot and the kids pile out. It's a soccer field, and some other kids are already warming up on the field.)
Soccer lessons: $600
(Dad is driving home, past some warehouses. He turns down an alley. Next shot, he's leaning against a wall, getting a blowjob.)
Blowjob from a hooker: $20 (pause) but she only takes cash.
For everything else, there's Mastercard.

So I was hanging out at the old PL tonight, as I often do on a saturday evening, and was mostly talking to my friend Martin. We discussed a variety of topics, such as religion, death, the meaning of life, and the importance of females, as we usually do. Torwards the end of the evening, I grew maudlin and began to question the point of existence, only to be convinced by razor-sharp insightfullness that there was one. As we parted, I said to Martin, "You really cheered me up tonight."
He looked briefly confused. "I don't think I've ever done that before."
That's what I like about the guy.

It worked for five seconds. That was enough to reassure me.

Another great day!

Jesus H. motherfucking Christ, why does life have to be so difficult all the time? Have I said that lately? I say that a lot, as I sit here on my butt typing, indoors, well-fed and fashionably dressed clothed. But really, why is it so challenging all the time? Should I sacrifice more animals to the gods?
Actually, I'm pretty sure I could make my life rather less complicated by avoiding computers. They hate me. My sacrifices do not please them. Should I burn SDRAM upon my altar to curry their infuriating logical yet deeply mysterious favor? Shed my blood upon their Molex Connectors? Study and apply myself? There must be an answer here.
Oh, and my friend Mike wants to know - who would win in a battle to the death, a baby or six kittens? And more importantly, how would you get them to fight to the death in the first place? Mike's an idea man. But we're anxious to try this out once we find a suitable venue. (I'm talking to you, cash-hungry Myanmar warlord.)

...to this little project - http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com/

The synopsis is, this guy had a red paperclip, and he decided that he would trade it to something bigger and/or better, and trade that item for something else, until he got... a house. Sound a little overly ambitious? Well, he's currently up to a 16' moving truck. This guy really knows how to leverage his assets.

I'm reading Drugs are Nice, the new memoir by Lisa Carver aka Lisa Suckdog. Those of you who were there, or heard about it, will be pleased to know that the show in Athens at the Dog Star is described on pages 53-56, although sadly no Athenians (not even me) are mentioned by name. Special bonus trivia points for you if you can identify the person described here:

I pick out my candidate - the shyest, reluctantest, least-rebellious-looking brunette in the audience - and sit upon his knee, laughing. "I like your hair!" I say, ruffling it.

Although this may possibly be a composite character. It's been many years.

Had a funny dream last night - I was hanging out in a cafe of some kind, with Bob and some one else, possibly Ari. We left in Bob's car, and we were in a hurry to get somewhere. So Bob drove really fast and crashes right thru a wooden fence around the lot, A-Team style, then did a series of very cool bootlegger reverses and peeled off. But we got pulled over by a highway patrol cop (although I could have sworn we were in the middle of Chicago), who asked Bob "Were you just playing Scrabble in that cafe over there?" He denied everything.

This dream is funniest if you know Bob.

or maybe year.

That's not me, by the way.

(Click on the post title to see the link,)

At work, I'm taking a bunch of german text and plugging it into this website for this company that sells industrial tube cleaning equipment. And if that doesn't make you snicker, perhaps this memo I got regarding my efforts will:

"Under Produktkatalog, Rohrstopfen, Rohreinsätze, there is some graphic male function at the top of the page in the blue section behind the tabs, please fix. "

OK, you can go about your business now.