COMMAS

Jesus Hairy Fucking Christ. Peoples need to chill with the commas. Fo' real.

Statute of Limitations

A girl I dated for less than two months invaded my dreams last night. It's been five years! Isn't there an expiration date?!

The really disturbing part is how fast those five years have flown by.

Oh well.

[edit]
I'm rocking out to control to chaos vol. 12. SMASH TV. RIOJA. w00t.

Get the balance right.

Delusions

In my fevered sleep I dreamt you sprouted wings.

...

Holy shit. WINGS!

Nutmeg Toxic?

Apparently it's more toxic than alcohol, and it's hallucinogenic. Maybe that's why I like it in my cherry cobbler?

Uncontrollable Urge

My window is open to the sound of a gentle wind kissing waves against a bulkhead, a mellow chime ringing in duet. The urge is strong tonight. It's always there, sometimes dreaming deep within, but on a night like this it awakens and seethes to the surface. It longs for the deep drink. It moans for moonlit seas under a starry sky. How long can I keep it moored to reality's keep?

Quacking, In Serial

Because, you know, I'm getting all my ducks in a row.

I need a cure for this bad pun disease.

Regarding Facebook:

Unlike other social networking tools, I'm picky about who my facebook friends are. I've met every one of them in person, save one. He shares my last name, so it's cool. I'm not against friending strangers, but I'd recommend sending a message first. Tell me something about yourself, or explain why you want to friend me. Are bad photos of shopping lists really that interesting?


Regarding Sniper Elite (don't ask):

I'm glad I never signed up for fighting any real wars. SE is traumatizing enough. A Verizon digging crew had a diesel generator running outside my house yesterday, it sounded like a tank. TANKS ARE THE SCARY.

Barefoot

It's warm enough today to try running sans shoes, so I think I'll give it a go. Can my feet withstand two miles of concrete and asphalt? Let's find out!

Warm Beer

Music: Feist - Secret Heart

Hold up, this isn't LJ.

Where was I?
I think I was having another internal monologue regarding post modernism. I'm too tired and intoxicated to rehash it here. Sorry.

0159..0300?

Fuck DST.
All those in favor of Universal Zulu Time, give us a shout.

AYE!

To do:

• Find some batteries for the digital camera and take pictures, maybe some video.
• Tinker with some coding.
• Find a new source of capital.
• Oil change, and this time don't forget a new crush washer.
• Move the rest of my stuff into my room. Figure out where all the junk goes.
• Get the humidifier working.
• Find a pair of black slacks that fit.
• Sail around the world.

Hrm...

I've never been to NYC. Gas would cost about $65 round trip. O_o

• Stop being a retard.
  

In Strange Places

Lady Saw. You probably hear her at least once a week, but maybe you knew that already.

-----

Is watching Star Wars like reading The Bible?
I think so. Getting the jokes is the only reason to do either, and not a very good one.

Epiphany

I haven't started drinking yet, but knowing my beer is cold and waiting has led me to make an observation. In the past I've had a hard time defining the relationship between being happy with what you have and still striving for better. Then I heard a song.

You've gotta move what ya got to get what ya want.

In racer speak, you've gotta run what you brung.
But you're in it for the win. Don't forget that.

Worst Typeface of the Month

Tempus Sans ITC.

That's what the menu descriptions I'm trying to memorize are typed in. Is it possible to make a typed document any less appealing and PAINFULLY DISTRACTING AND, err, PAINFUL?! I must design a fitting fate for these pages once their purpose is served. THE END IS NIGH. (So long as I pass the test tomorrow. I should be studying, no?)

Wheird.

I've been lounging around the ORG a lot lately (too much so considering I haven't added much). What I've noticed is that there are a core set of sports racers who regularly log on, often at very similar times. While it is nice to know there are others in the world with the same over abundance of free time, it hurts my head. It's revealing, in a dramatic monologue sort of way.

Quack.

Another thing about ducks... Adium, what voodoo do you do?

Early.

Whoever thinks getting out the door by 7AM on a Saturday morning is an acceptable practice needs some reeducatin'. But I need my car inspected, so I'll have to relent.

Spring, if you're ready and willing, then I'm yours. Just stop with the teasing.

P.S. -- I passed the "general knowledge" part of my work exam, but I have to retake the food and drink sections. On Wednesday. Ridiculous.