11:21
I used to enjoy the occasional dream…full of color and intrigue. Then they began to turn on me. After my cat Sully disappeared, an unsettling insecurity descended upon my general demeanor and each dream grew successively darker and more disturbing. I’ve just recently begun to lose my ability to think clearly even after awakening from these dreams. At first, I was just foggy-headed when I awoke, but soon I was forgetting where I was and what day it was. It has just now gotten to the point that my own body is unfamiliar to me: when I look in the mirror I see a complete stranger…and she is terrified.
12:38
“it”
http://feministing.com/imageStorage/post-it1.bmp
http://www.feministing.com/archives/008430.html
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Another Day, Another Dollar
20100106
"happening"
12:19
Little farther right…then we’ll take it down. The ride in to work this morning sure went smooth…ol’ Jarvis was ready to go for a change. How hard is it, really? Throw on your jean and orange shirt. Not like we’ve got a choice in style. That dude lives alone, too; not like he has to… “6 more inches to the east, Sam.” …can’t blame him for livin’ the life, though, I suppose. He’s gotta’ be out every night with the cash he’s pulling down from this job. No wife and kids to worry about. *gurgle* Damn burritos are tasty but deadly. jeez. “Okay, drop ‘er down slow now.” After we link this section up, should be about ready to open the valve…see how the flow rate is. There we go…ease it on in. “Back just a touch. whoa!” Perfect fit, as always.
12:35
http://www.walshconstructionco.com/images/_h_happening.jpg
http://www.walshconstructionco.com/whats_happening_detail.aspx?newsid=26
"happening"
12:19
Little farther right…then we’ll take it down. The ride in to work this morning sure went smooth…ol’ Jarvis was ready to go for a change. How hard is it, really? Throw on your jean and orange shirt. Not like we’ve got a choice in style. That dude lives alone, too; not like he has to… “6 more inches to the east, Sam.” …can’t blame him for livin’ the life, though, I suppose. He’s gotta’ be out every night with the cash he’s pulling down from this job. No wife and kids to worry about. *gurgle* Damn burritos are tasty but deadly. jeez. “Okay, drop ‘er down slow now.” After we link this section up, should be about ready to open the valve…see how the flow rate is. There we go…ease it on in. “Back just a touch. whoa!” Perfect fit, as always.
12:35
http://www.walshconstructionco.com/images/_h_happening.jpg
http://www.walshconstructionco.com/whats_happening_detail.aspx?newsid=26
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
“I cant…believe…this…is happening.”
07:00
“I cant…believe…this…is happening.” It done commenced nigh a month ago when hung a sack of flour from the barn rafters for to hit. I’d had a powerful hankering to slim up a might bit ever since that infomercial on late-night TV. Figured could make my own dandy rendition of “Them Gals Done Gone Wild” if’n I merely slimmed up a bit so’s to become like catnip to the ladies. I wailed on that punching bag like the dickens for the next four weeks and then reckoned the time had drawn nigh for mischief. The following weekend, dapper as a skunk in his tuxedo, I donned my best flannel shirt with snaps, gave the shiny-toed boots a fresh spit-polish, and trimmed my 5-o’clock shadow back to about 4:30. With man-scent wafting from every pore, I sauntered out of the woods and down to the highway, hitched a ride to the city with the first semi-truck that stopped, and arrived at the fanciest watering hole I’d ever seen ‘round about sundown. I made sure the 8-mm camera my grandpappy left me was shooting straight and stepped right up to the first sugar plum I laid my eyes upon. Lo and behold, my time with the punching bag must’ve paid off, for this pretty little dumpling was sure-fire ready to bear it all. We set to haggling on a price, no sooner had we agreed on two t-shirts and a crisp 5-dollar bill than she reached around behind her and – lickity-split – had my left wrist clamped into irons. Said she was the sheriff ‘round these parts and that I needed to come with her. Of course, I was in no mood to spend the night in the pokey and lit off like a jackrabbit with a fox on its heels. Just as I rounded the corner, the door in front of me flew open. Must’ve been designed for peeping ‘cause it had two eye-level tubes installed on the outside. Well, as my rotten luck would have it, the two of those jabbed me right in my own peepers. I whirled around just in time for my wild gal to thumb my noggin, and now here I am on the other side of the camera.
07:45
“I”
http://www.hanselman.com/blog/content/binary/WindowsLiveWriter/403ef28c2567_E0A6/iStock_000001183244XSmall_f8133aba-30a4-4ef1-85f9-ea25ccd32ad6.jpg
http://www.hanselman.com/blog/CaughtInTheAct.aspx
“I cant…believe…this…is happening.” It done commenced nigh a month ago when hung a sack of flour from the barn rafters for to hit. I’d had a powerful hankering to slim up a might bit ever since that infomercial on late-night TV. Figured could make my own dandy rendition of “Them Gals Done Gone Wild” if’n I merely slimmed up a bit so’s to become like catnip to the ladies. I wailed on that punching bag like the dickens for the next four weeks and then reckoned the time had drawn nigh for mischief. The following weekend, dapper as a skunk in his tuxedo, I donned my best flannel shirt with snaps, gave the shiny-toed boots a fresh spit-polish, and trimmed my 5-o’clock shadow back to about 4:30. With man-scent wafting from every pore, I sauntered out of the woods and down to the highway, hitched a ride to the city with the first semi-truck that stopped, and arrived at the fanciest watering hole I’d ever seen ‘round about sundown. I made sure the 8-mm camera my grandpappy left me was shooting straight and stepped right up to the first sugar plum I laid my eyes upon. Lo and behold, my time with the punching bag must’ve paid off, for this pretty little dumpling was sure-fire ready to bear it all. We set to haggling on a price, no sooner had we agreed on two t-shirts and a crisp 5-dollar bill than she reached around behind her and – lickity-split – had my left wrist clamped into irons. Said she was the sheriff ‘round these parts and that I needed to come with her. Of course, I was in no mood to spend the night in the pokey and lit off like a jackrabbit with a fox on its heels. Just as I rounded the corner, the door in front of me flew open. Must’ve been designed for peeping ‘cause it had two eye-level tubes installed on the outside. Well, as my rotten luck would have it, the two of those jabbed me right in my own peepers. I whirled around just in time for my wild gal to thumb my noggin, and now here I am on the other side of the camera.
07:45
“I”
http://www.hanselman.com/blog/content/binary/WindowsLiveWriter/403ef28c2567_E0A6/iStock_000001183244XSmall_f8133aba-30a4-4ef1-85f9-ea25ccd32ad6.jpg
http://www.hanselman.com/blog/CaughtInTheAct.aspx
Monday, January 4, 2010
One Desire
08:05
“Brrrk. Dk’dook. Nk’kit,” say I as I enter the throng of painted bodies. Each varying combination of colors differentiates my fellows from one another, and I am differentiated by my lack of color. Without paying that which separates us any heed, though, we continue to bustle along, tending to our communal cresch… the eggs that will form the next generation. It’s fulfilling to have a role and fill it, and this is the entirety of my thoughts: I seek to do my job to its most complete; all else is a blur. In front of me lies the egg, which I now tend to. I review it for intactness and viability. All appears well, so I roll it along to join the consort at the end of the room and return to evaluate another. Each will be evaluated in due course and sorted accordingly. The non-viable will be destroyed and removed from the nest. They return to the earth from whence they came.
08:25
http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2009/04/28/science/28ants-600.jpg
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/28/science/28prof.html
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