My female friends don't call me things like "sexy", and I think I'd say something if they did. :s

Also, I dont like sharing a computer.

Finally got the log in thing all worked out for blogger.


Watching "How It's Made". This one is on tequila, which is apparently made from a plant called blue agave. It's harvested with this shovel-blade-thing that looks like it would be wicked for killing zombies.

Apparently Mexico has also trademarked the word tequilla.

Sometimes I think I would like life better as a homeless person (assuming I lived some place with no winter). I'd find some little town, and be the strange, yet lovable hobo resident, with no one to compete with for bottles. I'd wander around all day, collecting cans and shit, muttering odd quips, and pretending I was the emperor of Upper Tofino or summat, and it'd be ok, because I'm homeless.

I dunno, it just seems like it could be alot more fun than being a CSO, or even a doctor or something.


I"m watching this show on Space about these guys who pretend to be super heroes, and walk around their respective cities helping the homeless, and so forth. I think that would be kind of fun too, though I think I'd be a super villan, simply to sort of balance it out. Unfortunately, I can't really see how you could possibly do that/get anything out of it. I suppose technically, serial killers and the like are probably as close as the real world would ever get to super villains, which makes me wonder what one of these guys would do, faced with one of them. It's sort of funny how:

1. Human nature requires society to have what are incredibly restrictive laws if you think about the way they were just 100 years ago.

and

2.These laws, coupled with increasing apathy for "fellow man", etc., cause a greatly disproportionate limit to the levels of good and evil one can realistically hope to achive. One can put on a costume, and run around murdering people, but it's very, very unlikely that someone else who puts on a costume would be able to stop them, or really even most "lesser" criminals without they themselves going to jail.

I'm reading Hunter. It's a white power book about a serial killer based on Joseph Paul Franklin, who goes around killing interracial couples in an attempt to start a race war. However, rather than being a mystery story, it's told from the perspective of the killer, who is apparently doing the right thing somehow. I'm not really that far into it, but it's about as bad as you'd expect, and I kinda doubt I'll finish it. The website I found it on had some interesting points on racial politics, amidst the usual garbage, but I can't really recall how I got there, and don't think I'll bother looking through the rest of the literature.

Wow, I'm horribly bored.

Dear Sophie,
I realized today that the reason [REDACTED] my boss is that she is essentially a little kid, and that I don't really like or know how to deal with little kids. In an effort to avoid being fired or jailed, I figured I would ask someone with professional training for their advice.

So, besides candy and time outs (neither of which work on her), how do you get a kid to stop fucking around with things?

Thank you for your time.



Maybe she'll have some good input....

I know this particular clip is a "dramatization", but this actually happened. Yikes.

2 reasons my girlfriend is better than yours (or you, if you are female).

I'm pretty impressed with how much Lisa trusts me, and considerably less impressed with Norton Anti-Virus. The thing is mostly just a virus itself, but they apparently don't have a Windows Defender for 7 yet.

Endeavor to write, I endeavor to rhyme, endeavor to rap, my words are on time. I lay it down lyrically, I don't know if you hearing me, avert your gaze, I'm talking empiracally. Cause music holds power, and knowledge untold, so move with the mic and let my wisdom unfold. Sing for the moment, dance for the day, open your mind or get out of the way. I like my rhymes lyrical, affecting you in spiritual ways, striking where the problem lays, striking in your mind, a wisdom divined from the feeling inside that history has lied. So if I can make you think, for just one second, open up your mind and look in the direction that we're heading in, going down hill faster than we've eer been, then maybe that's something... bigger than I will ever be, you will ever see reflected shapes of our one true reality, so close your eyes, spark a joint and take a trip with me, moving through the sound at increasing velocity.

Then I kinda lose my train of thought, and continue with:

I'm not a rapper, so don't throw a "yo" at me, I sound like a white guy reciting his poetry, breaking it down one line at a time, trying to keep it real, trying to keep up with my mind. Upper white class is what it says on my lable, but I still hold all the cards at this table, and so I broke it down as best as was able, and that is the end of this little fable.


No sleep is FUN.