What's up with that?

Oh, wait... its probably because I haven't been posting here in several weeks.

that may have something to do with it.

my damn arm hurts.

I am pondering the merit of ripping my ulnar nerve out with a fork. It can't hurt any more that it already does. meloxicam is a crappy pain releiver, and I'm not sure about its anti-inflammatory properties, but I would swear that ibuprofen hs been more effective.

damnit.

so the brand-spanking new Western Digital 40G drive refuses to work in my computer. Fuck 'em. I found an old 850M WD drive that will work just fine until I can stick a 20-30G drive in there. And it'll be a Maxtor this time, since I've never had a Maxtor drive go apeshit the way WD drives have.

Perhaps WD is just evil.

but now my son will have a computer of his own that he can completely fuck up if he so chooses. And it will have little impact on my or my wife's computers, which is a good thing. Its amazing how 15 month olds want to do everything that you do.

And now he's walking...

Do0o0o0o0o0o0oo0000000oooooooooommm!!!

once, when asked what I wanted for dinner, I answered "poop on a stick".

no really, this is true.

later, this became a running gag. If we couldn't think of something that we really wanted to eat, we'd reply with "poop on a stick".

one day, while thinking of wierd things to do for Halloween, we thought of this:

take some tootsie-rolls, mush them up and wrap it around a stick: wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am - poop on a stick.

you could also work in some candy corn for the coveted "poop with corn on a stick"

and here I am, typing this while eating a doughnut...

yum

so, like, does anyone else find it fucking hilarious that one of the morons on the latest version of Survivor is, oh yes, a fucking GOAT FARMER???!!!?!?!?!?!?

I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

and he's an asshole at that... he must miss his goats already...

damn Don Pablo's... too much cilantro...

&nbsp

too bad I cannot make a poll for my journal entries...

Look at how I've added this entry to my journal. My journal now has another entry in it. How I love to add to my journal. My journal could well be on its way to becoming the focal point of my entire existence.

Journal

j0urna1

Journ4l

w00t!

Who the hell actually gets the day off on Columbus Day? I mean, I don't work for the government or anything, yet, I get to spend the day at home, getting caught up on other crap.

Don't get me wrong here, I'm not complaining one bit, but you just admit that it is quite odd to have the day off when nearly no one else does...

Today is not quite what I expected.

Yes, this past weekend was rather crappy with my son getting sick, barfing all over, not sleeping well, so on and so forth as it is when all small children are unfortunate enough to contract a stomach virus.

Yet, today managed to not only surprise me, but to shock me, and pretty much everyone else. The horror of witnessing such death and destruction over views that many do not understand or appreciate is sickening.

What is truly sad is that someone, some group, out there truly believes that their actions today were just.

What a sad, sad world this has become, and what sad, pathetic people there are inhabiting parts of it.

This should not be what life is about.

I will not permit my son to live in fear.

Terrorism shall not be tollerated.

and isn't it sickly ironic that today is 911 (sept. 11)...

I wear pants.

Yes, I know, it is quite shocking, but true.

Pants.

And underwear, and shirts and everyting (except women's clothing, as I am not a woman).

Clothing. Both functional and yet subtly profound.

Everyone should wear clothes.