Because I Was Told To

Find your own pose!

What She Said

“I have my laptop. If it only vibrated.”

What I Heard

“I have my laptop. If it only vibrated.”

Dear Ben:

I read your post about my post-apocolyptic dream analysis. I e-mailed you (at least I thought I did) a nice message full of joy and warmth and pierced tatoos but I haven’t heard back from you.

*whine*

Second-order slacker

In fact, I’m such a slacker today that I’m even slacking from my slacking. I’ve had a post semi-in-the-works for months now, but every time I think about working on it, my mind wanders off in an uncontroable proxism of procrastination.

Cut me some slack.

OMGISB*

It’s Friday afternoon. It’s about a bazillion degrees outside, and humid. But it’s dark and cool and comfortable in the IS cave. I had a huge (think “Enough to feed Botswana. For a month.”) omlette for lunch. I’ve tried coffee. I’ve tried code. I’ve tried learning.

There’s obviously only one solution: the blog.

*Oh my god, I’m so bored

About Comments

I was gently reminded via phone yesterday that I’d set this blog to be a pain in the ass to comment on, hence the call. While I hate blog spam, I’d rather hear from you all and deal with the spam, so I’m compromising.

Now, it’s less of a pain to post here, but you have to wait for me to sort the wheat from the chafe, as it were, before your comment will show up. Let’s see how that works.

Edit @ 10:55: Interestingly enough, note this article.

Interesting Site

but possibly not for non-word-geeks

Matthew Stibbe’s Bad Language looks like fun. He’s got interesting ideas about writing, specifically, and the world, generally. Hell, he even had a post (only the second of his that I’ve read so far) that got me riled enough to post a (hopefully polite) rebuttal.

Dubious Goals

I made a fortuitous tactical error last night. I didn’t pay attention while making a drink and ended up with a half-pint of gin. I figured there could only be one possible response, so I filled the rest of the glass with tonic and added an extra slice of lime to balance things.

At the bottom of that glass, I got to thinking: “Hmmmm…. that was pretty good.”

Another pint-sized G&T later, I decided that my world would be much less difficult to navigate if I just sat on the floor and played xBox for a while. But then I got to thinking: “Hmmmm… I bet I could kill off that bottle tonight.”

It’s the furthest thing from my mind to presume that you, gentle reader, are familiar with this sort of misguided goal setting. Suffice it say that as gin quietly impairs judgement, it also gently renders neurons into motor-skill-soup.

Choosing the Zen solution, I made myself one with both the floor and Tony Hawk.