Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Viral Spiral
Caution: Don't read this post on a full stomach.
I haven't been blogging much lately. There are two reasons for this. First, one of the ninety or so temp agencies I'm signed up with has actually found some work for me. It's only part-time, and not particularly strenuous, but it tweaks my energy just enough that I feel more like reading other people's blogs than working on my own.
The other reason is that I've had a bad cold. For about a week, my nose was essentially a leaky buttermilk spigot. That right there makes it difficult to operate a keyboard:
type, type, type--SNORRRTT!--type, type, type--SNORRRTT!--type, type, type--SNORRRTT!--type, type...
I did try a Kleenex:
type, type, type--SPFOOSSH!!--type, type, type--SPFOOSSH!!--type, type, type--SPFOOSSH!!--type, type, type...
As I write these posts in the library, either way attracts attention.
After a couple of days, the buttermilk dries up, and you can look down without getting your hands, desk, mouse, mouse pad, and keyboard all wet and sticky. But that's only because the inside of your nose is now concrete, forcing you to breathe through your mouth:
type, type, type--PANT! PANT!--type, type, type--PANT! PANT!--type, type, type--PANT! PANT!--type, type, type...
This attracted the librarian's attention. I had a heck of a time trying to convince her I hadn't clicked on a porn site.
The cold now resides in my chest. So I'm now able to breathe through my nose and my mouth. My lungs are another matter. I just know I have a big ball of pus lodged somewhere in my upper trachea. OK, I'm not entirely sure what an upper trachea is or what it does, but they used to mention it a lot on MASH, and I'm sure if Hawkeye cut mine open, he would subsequently have to instruct the nurse to wipe what looked like week old tapioca from his face.
Writing takes concentration, even on the Web. And I just can't concentrate when the mucus membrane's malignant muck threatens to cut off my supply of oxygen.
If I could just cough it away, then I could write. Not a big cough. Just a clearing of the throat. A mere "ahem."
AHKKKKKMMMMPLPLPLPLKKKGKGKGOGGGGGGGGAHHHHAKAKAKAKAKAAHHHHHEEEEEKKKKKKKPLPKPLKPLKPLKGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!
How's that for a gag ending?
I haven't been blogging much lately. There are two reasons for this. First, one of the ninety or so temp agencies I'm signed up with has actually found some work for me. It's only part-time, and not particularly strenuous, but it tweaks my energy just enough that I feel more like reading other people's blogs than working on my own.
The other reason is that I've had a bad cold. For about a week, my nose was essentially a leaky buttermilk spigot. That right there makes it difficult to operate a keyboard:
type, type, type--SNORRRTT!--type, type, type--SNORRRTT!--type, type, type--SNORRRTT!--type, type...
I did try a Kleenex:
type, type, type--SPFOOSSH!!--type, type, type--SPFOOSSH!!--type, type, type--SPFOOSSH!!--type, type, type...
As I write these posts in the library, either way attracts attention.
After a couple of days, the buttermilk dries up, and you can look down without getting your hands, desk, mouse, mouse pad, and keyboard all wet and sticky. But that's only because the inside of your nose is now concrete, forcing you to breathe through your mouth:
type, type, type--PANT! PANT!--type, type, type--PANT! PANT!--type, type, type--PANT! PANT!--type, type, type...
This attracted the librarian's attention. I had a heck of a time trying to convince her I hadn't clicked on a porn site.
The cold now resides in my chest. So I'm now able to breathe through my nose and my mouth. My lungs are another matter. I just know I have a big ball of pus lodged somewhere in my upper trachea. OK, I'm not entirely sure what an upper trachea is or what it does, but they used to mention it a lot on MASH, and I'm sure if Hawkeye cut mine open, he would subsequently have to instruct the nurse to wipe what looked like week old tapioca from his face.
Writing takes concentration, even on the Web. And I just can't concentrate when the mucus membrane's malignant muck threatens to cut off my supply of oxygen.
If I could just cough it away, then I could write. Not a big cough. Just a clearing of the throat. A mere "ahem."
AHKKKKKMMMMPLPLPLPLKKKGKGKGOGGGGGGGGAHHHHAKAKAKAKAKAAHHHHHEEEEEKKKKKKKPLPKPLKPLKPLKGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!
How's that for a gag ending?
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Quips and Quotations
A man who has never gone to school may steal from a freight car, but if he has a university education, he may steal the whole railroad.
--Teddy Roosevelt
--Teddy Roosevelt
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Duo-Over
There are two criticisms I sometimes get.
One is that I'm a loner.
The other is that I care too much about what other people think of me.
I've thought long and hard about those two criticisms, and, I've decided, the critics are right. So, I'm turning over a new leaf. No more being a loner, and no more caring what other people think of me.
Starting today, I'm joining every club, organisation, society, institution, federation, association, affiliation, team, league, lodge, order, fellowship, charity, cause, movement, party, group, gang, pack, clique, and tribe I can find.
Also starting today, I'm going to be as informative, pontifical, iconoclastic, challenging, critical, opinionated, judgemental, contrary, non-conformist, expressive, romantic, extroverted, dramatic, emotional, excitable, confessional, uninhibited, horny, discomfiting, disturbing, boring, eccentric, weird, strange, odd, goofy, neurotic, psychotic and certifiably insane as I damn well please.
But first, I'm going to stop off at the Army-Navy store and get myself some body armor.
One is that I'm a loner.
The other is that I care too much about what other people think of me.
I've thought long and hard about those two criticisms, and, I've decided, the critics are right. So, I'm turning over a new leaf. No more being a loner, and no more caring what other people think of me.
Starting today, I'm joining every club, organisation, society, institution, federation, association, affiliation, team, league, lodge, order, fellowship, charity, cause, movement, party, group, gang, pack, clique, and tribe I can find.
Also starting today, I'm going to be as informative, pontifical, iconoclastic, challenging, critical, opinionated, judgemental, contrary, non-conformist, expressive, romantic, extroverted, dramatic, emotional, excitable, confessional, uninhibited, horny, discomfiting, disturbing, boring, eccentric, weird, strange, odd, goofy, neurotic, psychotic and certifiably insane as I damn well please.
But first, I'm going to stop off at the Army-Navy store and get myself some body armor.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Vital Viewing
Yes, it's now a regular feature.
This Thursday, CNBC's Mad Money host and former Wall Street manipulator Jim Cramer will be on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.
Cramer will discuss the current bear market.
This Thursday, CNBC's Mad Money host and former Wall Street manipulator Jim Cramer will be on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.
Cramer will discuss the current bear market.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Recommended Reading
First, I posted something about Thomas Friedman, then something about Matt Taibbi.
Now, I'm going to combine the two.
Now, I'm going to combine the two.
Quips and Quotations
Rush Limbaugh is a fat, pill-popping idiot.
--Rolling Stone writer Matt Taibbi on Hardball with Chris Matthews.
(I know that's not the wittiest remark in the world, but to hear Taibbi, a very good writer, say it so matter-of-factly on a relatively middle-of-the-road news program was absolutely hilarious. Even Matthews laughed--KJ)
--Rolling Stone writer Matt Taibbi on Hardball with Chris Matthews.
(I know that's not the wittiest remark in the world, but to hear Taibbi, a very good writer, say it so matter-of-factly on a relatively middle-of-the-road news program was absolutely hilarious. Even Matthews laughed--KJ)
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
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