Throb

Lalala

I had this song stuck in my head from childhood and called my brother to figure out what it was, whereupon I promptly forgot it. I was, however, able to describe the light blue 8-track tape it was on and, since we only had one 8-track tape, he remembered it: Toto, Crazy Horse. Need to buy it to include in aggregated video of summer adventures (after I receive my video camera from recent short video contest win and after I have sufficiently recovered from said upcoming summer adventures).

I've succeeded in remembering a joke about pirates, which means I've told it to every person who has come near me with a joke in the last week. This is a surprisingly large number of people. I must look like I need a laugh.

I don't feel like I need a laugh though, any more than usual at least. Things have been incredible. Tonight I will have german sausages, for example.

A random person at work stopped me in the hall to say that he and a colleague saw one of my pictures of my fun time at Seattle's Gay Pride parade show up in a Flickr screensaver for Mac. I had the strange desire to confirm my blatant and well-expressed hetero status with him - but restrained myself, instead flirted coyly, batted my fake eyelashes and massaged my undeveloped breasts quite girlishly.

meh

Falling Girl

Apparently everybody in the world has already seen this, but I like it too much not to host and post.

Bigger original version here.

Anti - what were we talking about?

I just really have to point out this funny post on George's blog.

mxx fuorward

pithy flips the dillywongal
towarth whut but t'ou doth knowt
larve dosth marth dar tillywiggle
piglet stripling inst yer midst, ya barstard

fuxst ten, yar
ya barstard
meeting hoors n tards 'like
fook ya ya toody pornta
ya've naught i'nt seen in teria ya dwangle

blar twasn'ta bitago i swore
but i's nos not twat i sayis
praps or does i ya barsted monger friende mine

Positive Stuff

The sun keeps coming up. Evolution and reproduction and family and tradition keep occuring. You are relatively happy. You are talented and sexyish and people like you. Enough. You have a good body compared to lots of somebody elses somewhere. You like cooler things than some people who brag about the things they like. Your horoscopes aren't helping. Neither is God. These things are probably stupid. You get along well with others. You Bring-Something-To-The-Table. You have taste, as evidenced by your stupendous relatively-new acquisition. You have less debt than the median. Your parents care about you, regardless of your stupid blog. You eat as many solids a day as you want to/can afford. Your job is more challenging than most peoples'. You aren't sure about the rules of grammar. You laugh at least once a day. You are more sane than the "You were never in the Navy!" guys. You can still do a decent enough job of making love, even after you take a break for a while after splitting up with some numbskull who couldn't recognize your potential and/or skillz. The right people want you to work for them, the wrong people don't. You are dedicated to something nobody else understands. You don't have many lice or crabs or the heebie-jeebies. Sometimes you have GOOD hair days. You can give one hell of a blow job or whatever you call the equivelent when performed on girls. You look good in good clothes. Everything is alive and connected and beautiful. You keep waking up in better shape than you were in the night before. Thank god that nasty rash/fungal infection hasn't reared its ugly head in a while. You love something or someone at least as much as yourself. Your arrogance is tempered. You read, you watch. It keeps getting better. You control your own destiny, and realize [verb] it more than most folks. World War III keeps sounding stupider and stupider. If - you are a fool, so is everyone else. If you are dying, so is everything. If you can't relate, you at least understand what I'm talking about. You are what you were meant to be. You are twitching, you respond. You are still alive. Write a song for christsake. A poem. A picture.

People to Kill

Tom Cruise
George Bush
That guy on the corner of Broadway and Pike with the God Abhors You sign during the Pride parade
The entire baptist congregation with a similar hateful philosophy
The bartender from Satellite with the neck tattoos
Steve (just 'cause, you bastard)
Viable threats
The news editor on the Today show
The BTK shithead
Tom Cruise
Michael Jackson
The rest of the Jacksons
The Pacers
James Dobson
The person who grew the pot I smoked yesterday
The person who didn't understand my coffee order after above
America
Meter maids
Siths
Tom Cruise
The homeless
The rich
The middleclass
Canadians
Mexicans
Europeans
Asians
Tom Cruise
Everybody else

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Holy cow. Have you seen The Onion from the future this week? You'd think the future would have abandoned flash. Guess not.

Yikes

Ladies and gentlemen, the creepiest guy on Flickr.

Nooooooo!!!

Some pics from my recent camping trip and more are now on Flickr.

Happy happy joy joy

So far this young summer has been an absolute blast. Surfing, camping, drinking, goto line 10.
Jason has some potentially incriminating pictures.