I shall retire to my li-bray, Cuthbert. Tell all callers I am not receiving visitors.

Pip, pip, my gentle dewdrops!

I am not dead. (I'm as surprised as you are.) I am simply doing other things.

I've decided that in order to read everything I want to read, and know everything I want to know, before I am DEAD, then I'm going to have to do a lot of reading and a lot of learning indeed. So that's all I'm doing. Got a gigantic stack of books for Christmas (people FINALLY learned that buying clothes for me is a very risky proposition - and that I'm very simple to shop for if you only look at what I fucking WANT and stop pretending that I like the same shit in the same poncy fucking colors they do, and that I'm actually bigger than I look, so nothing would ever fit anyway for crying out loud) and wisely hit my Amazon wishlist pretty hard. So my 'on-deck circle' of books is enough to keep me going till summer. Plus, I've added to my magazine subscriptions by subscribing to Free Inquiry, every issue of which is pure gold. GOLD, I tell you.

All this sitting in my little library/office, reading and absorbing all this great stuff has been enough for me to break my awful habit of spending most of my free time on YouTube, arguing with creationist idiots, right-wing dickheads, and (probably) 12 year olds pretending to be older and smarter than they are, about politics, science, religion and whatever else there is to argue about. I'm glad THAT was a phase. What a fucking pedant I was becoming. Yeesh. But Jesus Christ on a stick, what a bunch of stupid fuckers. The mere existence of people like that pisses me off, no end. And now I have to face it...I am one of those people. Fuck.

AND I've made it to level 8 in Bubble Town when I take my brain breaks. Just so you all don't think I'm being pretentious and affected with all this talk of "book larnin'." I can still enjoy a good hockey fight,swill pints, eat cheese, and giggle at my own farts with the best of them. I just know a bit more about history, literature and science than I did last year at this time. Don't argue with me, you philistines, I have facts. Nyah.

I've even gotten my TV viewing down to the occasional hockey game, one sitcom, and Dr. Who. The rest is unremitting gobshite, and I have my moments with the sitcom and Dr. Who.

"Television," she sniffed, "I don't really care for it."

(Though I had a skinful last Saturday, and watched this episode of Graham Norton with Dawn French and Jackie Chan. It may have been the funniest hour of TV I've seen in months.)

That is all.


****EDIT*****

If you are viewing this page on Internet Explorer, you'll notice the sidebar stuff has floated to the bottom of the page, due to the size of that lovely book and skull picture at the top. Resolution on that came out so nice I'm unwilling to change the dimensions on the picture, so read this with Mozilla Firefox, fuckers.

Strange Days

What a strange feeling, being up before dawn in the winter. A hoochless week of many salads and little wheat (some, not much) has seen me up before the alarm for the last couple of days. How very odd.

Or maybe I'm getting old - you know how some old ones only sleep about 4 hours a night? Maybe it's early menopause. Whatever. I'll take it, if it allows me a little extra time to dick around at home before going to work, or leave a little earlier to get a head start through the traffic clusterfucks in Watertown Square. (Hear me, 5 Corners? Intersection of Pleasant and Main Streets? Three or four light cycles to get onto Main from Pleasant because ASSHOLES coming down from Main enter the intersection when they can see there's NO ROOM, and block Pleasant? What the fuck? ...Easy, rabbit. Yes, well it had to be said.)

Anyway - there is some good news happening in the world, believe it or not. Manolo's Shoe Blog reports that those monstrosities, Crocs, may be going away. Evidently their sales have plummeted and they're downsizing operations. Though I don't wish bad things on any business in these hard economic times...they deserve no less than failure, tears, eternal hellfire and damnation for inflicting us with these eyesores. Diversify or die, fuckers. Sadly, I predict we'll be seeing them attached to ghastly shuffling hippies of Cambridge for a while yet. But where there's hope, there's...hope.





Happy Friday, everyone. All three of you who may be checking here at all these days. Jeez.

whoah.

I have felt (and smelled) better.

Our little party went well. I'd like to thank whoever did some clean up for me - when I got up this morning the kitchen was not nearly as bad as I'd thought it would be. Unless we have kitchen fairies, someone deserves much thanks.

We're not doing much today. Lying around in our pajamas and watching bad TV - not a bad way to nurse a hangover.

And I have time to contemplate the important questions:

Am I dead?
Who carpeted my tongue and how did I sleep through it?
Chinese for dinner?

I may have had a stroke. Stay tuned.