4:31 PM - Srsly?
Current mood: bored
Category: Web, HTML, Tech

Time is fleeting....
You should know the source of this, and the next few lines, too. If not, then shame on you.

The teeny-boppers I work with while moonlighting had never seen a LOLCAT until I showed them Guany's Caturday entry, today.

They've also never heard of a limerick.  I tried to explain, but I couldn't come up with an example that wasn't dirty.  Wikipedia didn't help.

What are they teaching kids these days?

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2:50 PM - I’ve seen a house fly....
Current mood: inquisitive
Category: Religion and Philosophy

An ounce of loyalty is worth a pound of cleverness.
Elbert Hubbard

So for the last three hours, I've been standing over a hot-line (food, not phone), waiting for a customer, and reading the television (captioning ftw!).

Evidently, the Pope visiting a seminary in Yonkers, NY (heh – I said "Yonkers") is newsworthy enough that we need to watch his forty-five minute journey to the school via helicopter cam in its entirety.  Not that there was really anything else on.  I mean, there's golf, but that's about the same.

I remember when the Pope visited the University of South Carolina back in 1988 (September 11, 1988, to be exact).  As the photo editor of The Gamecock, I was informed that I may photograph or take pictures of the pontiff, but in no way, shape, or form was I allowed to "shoot" him.  They had guns, sunglasses and the "I'm constipated" look, so I complied.

I digress.

This isn't really about the Pope.  I mean, it is only in providing the frame-story.  I'm not about to get into what would become a rant about idolatry, greed, and the whole "ripping of the curtain" thing that seemed to be forgotten by the Catholic church.  I'm just not gonna' do it.

Oops.  I kinda' did, didn't I?

Anyway, while reading the television, it seems that before speaking to 125,000 people in Yonkers (heh – I said "Yonkers" again),  his Popeness met with and blessed fifty disabled children.

Watching the families of the kids … it was kinda' amazing.  I mean, I'm not Catholic and never have been, but I remember being in the same room as Pope John Paul II and the feeling of awe I had.  (It was much more profound than how I felt when I knelt six feet away from then-vice president George Bush).   I mean, if I *had* been Catholic (or even practicing religion at the time), I imagine I'd have swooned, or started shrieking like a teenage girl at a New Kids on the Block concert.

Ok, I'm rambling again.  The part I found so interesting, that prompted me to sit down and write instead of standing guard over the lima beans, was the entertainment: 

The Archdiocesean (sp?) Deaf Choir.

I'm not sure if they were singing or not, or if there was even music, but there was synchronized signing.  

A deaf choir.  Not something I'd ever expect to see, but it's kinda' neat that I did.

So, Lu, how does that work, exactly?

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6:05 PM - Tales from the hood, pt. whatever
Current mood: bored
Category: Art and Photography

37206:  We put the hood in meighborhoom.
Bumper Sticker
(slightly modified for appropriateness)

..

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4:34 PM - Culture Shock
Current mood: confused
Category: Food and Restaurants

I was thinking that they should change clothes sizing.  There should be "average," "above average," "below average," and "you need to eat something."
Kitten (paraphrased)

For those of you who don't know, I sell hunting and fishing licenses.  Well, I code the software that sells hunting and fishing licenses. 

Unless you're an active member of PETA, in which case I run a porn website and there is no need for you to read any further.

I mainly work on code for the state of Idaho, occasionally switching over to smash some bytes in Oregon adn Washington.   Not Nebraska, though.  Not allowed to touch Nebraska after I blew it up last fall. (C'mon, it's just Nebraska!  Who cares!) 

After doing this for a year and a half, I came to the conclusion that all the free-love, dope-smoking hippies baby boomers that lived in the Pacific Northwest communes have comprised their standards (although not their recreational practices) and went into state government – specifically, Fish and Game.

A few weeks ago, though, something happened that made me reconsider my findings.

I was working a buffet (moonlighting – there is no buffet in the bit mine) when a family of three walked up. 

"What's that?"  the mother asked. "Is it the catfish?"

"We're not from around here," the son (ten?  twelve?) explained.

"No, those are the hushpuppies."  The boy made a face while a look of befuddlement crossed the faces of his parents.

"Hushpuppies?"  the mother asked.

"You've never heard of hushpuppies?"  I asked.

"We just moved here a week ago.  What's are they?"  she said.

"Fried, sweetened cornmeal with onions and other seasonings.  Here, try one."  I handed the family a hushpuppy and asked, "So, where are ya'll from?"

The father ate his bite, groaning approval, before saying "Idaho."

Idaho.  Didn't know what hushpuppies are.  No wonder their fish and game requirements are so screwy.

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8:11 PM - naptime - LFB (a week late)
Current mood: blah
Category: Writing and Poetry

Not being able to sleep is terrible. You have the misery of having partied all night... without the satisfaction.
Lynn Johnston
For Better or For Worse, 07-22-06

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7:19 PM - The Hallowing Party - LFB
Current mood: blah
Category: Parties and Nightlife

The one serious conviction that a man should have is that nothing is to be taken too seriously.
Nicholas Butler

So as ya'll may have figured out, I attended a Hallowing (so named by the Bug when she was a wee thing.  Skelington is also a Bug'ism) Party.  My niece hosted the party with a friend, at her friend's house.  They invited some of their friends from school and members from her church youth group.

Now, I must admit that I hadn't planned on driving to South Carolina last weekend, much less attending her Hallowing party, but evidently my grandmother had other ideas and decided that I needed to come home.

Well, she didn't say it in so many words but by up and dying she kinda' guranteed that I'd be there (which is why I didn't post last week).

I was instructed to pack a costume as well as my coat and tie.  I dithered around for awhile, unable to decide when to leave, and finally, after a phone call to the old man, took off.

Without my costume.

Not to worry, though.  As I'm sure ya'll have seen from my pitchers (you have looked at my pitchers, haven't you?) there are plenty of dress-up clothes that fit me at Pa-pa's house so I figured I'd just throw something together when I got there.

I was beautiful.  A true Uncle Fruitcake costume.  At first I was going to be a mad scientist but decided that if I stuck a pair of scissors and a hairbrush in my coat pocket I'd look just like my niece and nephew when they set out to do my hair.

My sister didn't bother dressing up for the occasion.

Now, not having been to a Hallowing party in ages (sorry Jessie - I planned on attending but life, er, death got in the way) I'd forgotten just how much fun could be had at such a gathering.  Especially one hosted by my niece.

I walked through the door and was immediately deluged with "What are are you?" 

"An embarrassment to my niece."

All in all, I managed to behave myself (despite my best efforts).  There was so much drama and confusion over loaned costumes and the scavenger hunt that most of them didn't pay attention to me.  I did offer a few haircuts (nobody accepted for some reason) and made sure that I partook of refreshements, but for the most part, I sat on the couch with my kitteh, yelled at the South Carolina / UT game, and observed the screaming/giggling teenage girls run in and out of the bathroom.

Hmm, I suppose that this isn't so much a commentary as it is a narrative, but since it's my blog (and it's on time) you'll just have to live with it.

I suppose, though, that I can throw you a sersey for reading this far though:

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8:03 PM - Hayride - LFB
Current mood: artistic
Category: Writing and Poetry

Don't waste yourself in rejection, nor bark against the bad, but chant the beauty of the good.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

The warm breeze, unusual for this late in in the fall, blew over the wagon sending tendrils of straw floating into the air.  He stared up at the clouds lazily crossing the crescent moon and inhaled deeply.  Diesel from the tractor, the clean smell of fresh hay, her perfume....

Her scent left goosebumps crawling up his arms.  She was so close that he could feel the heat radiating from her where they hands lay nestled in the straw, almost, but not quite touching.  The wagon creaked as they made a turn at the end of the field and he relished every bump and jolt over the furrows that caused their hands to collide.

She never pulled away.  That was a good sign.  

He tried to catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye but all he could see was the pale yellow straw.  Lifting his head, he turned to find himself looking into her eyes.  She smiled, then giggled.

His throat knotted.  "What?"

"You have hay sticking out of your hair."

He shook his head then lifted his hand to brush away the hay.

"You're not even close," she laughed.  "Here, let me."  She reached over and began plucking bits of the dried grass from his head.    "There you go."

"You have the same problem, you know."  He stretched out his hand to return the favor just as she moved to run her fingers through her hair.  They both froze as their hands met and he looked away quickly.

"You know, it's just gonna' happen again," she said as she lowered his hand and lay back down.  "Why don't we wait until we stop."

"Um, yeah, that, uh, makes more sense."  He reclined back onto the hay-strewn floor of the wagon and, with her hand nestled in his, hoped that the ride would never end.

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7:30 PM - Resurrection - LFB
Current mood: complacent
Category: Writing and Poetry

I Aetn't Dead
Granny Weatherwax
Courtesy of Terry Pratchett


I suppose you're wondering why I called you all together....

Actually, we're wondering who the hell you are.

Kat, shh, let him speak.

No, no, it's quite alright.  Allow me to introduce myself - I am the incorporeal remains of his creativity.

Incorporeal remains?

Kat....

Well, what does that mean, exactly.  You can't tell me you know what he's talking about, Richard.

Well, I suppose that means he's a ghost.

A ghost?  How can he be  a ghost.  He's a figment of his imagination!  He's already incorporeal.

Yes, but he is a bit translucent and if you think about it, he is kinda' dead.

That doesn't mean he's a ghost.  You can't be a ghost without being alive, first.

AHEM!

Oh, right, excuse us.

As I was saying, I suppose you're wondering...

Arr!  This here be the gathering of the characters, would it?

Um, excuse me, but I believe you're in the wrong blog.

Yeah, this is a Halloween blog, and you're a pirate.

Well, he seem to have bits falling off.

So, he's a dead pirate?

Truth be told, I'm not actually dead.  I was once, see.  Had a cutlass go clean through me heart.  Twas a bit of a shock, it were.

So, you're not actually dead but you smell of rotting earth and I believe your arm just fell off, so what are you then.

Kaaaat....

It were in Haiti, it were.  Minding my own business, trying to wash the taste of barreled water out o' me mouth, and there was this woman ....

AHEM!

Eshcushe me, but ish thish where I'm supposed to be?

Who the hell are you?

All right, that's enough!  Out, out now!  I KNOW he never considered you, and you're shedding all over the place.

Ish not my fault it'sh a full moon.

OUT!  And you, young lady....

Who you calling young?  

What seems to be your problem this evening?

I told you to calm down, Kat.

Shut up, Richard.  How many stories has he written about me?  Four, five?  And in how many of them have I actually gotten to drink any blood?  NONE!  That's how many.  Richard got to storm a crack house, but me?  I'm just window dressing.  We don't even know what I do for a living!  And you, you of all people, dare ask me what my problem is?

Well ... uh ... I ... er ...

THAT IS ENOUGH!  Clear out, the lot of you!  I've had it up to hear with these people.  It's bad enough that nobody does any work around here, but specifically including me in a topic is the last straw!  I've had it!  I don't need this abuse.  I can find work somewhere else.  They'll be sorry, you know.  Serves them right for emptying the coffee pot and leaving it on the burner all the time.  Do they ever wonder who has to clean the burnt coffee pot?  No,  they don't.  The magic coffee pot fairy just comes in and takes care of it.    And the trashcans don't just empty themselves, you know...  

Um, I think we should go now.  Kat, you coming?

Yeah, I think she can out-bitch me.

Arr, a fine idea, me hearties.

Don't forget your arm.

Maybe we can catch up with the fuzzy guy and go grab a beer or something.

Like I drink beer.

Sorry, darlin'.  We'll pick up  some O- on the way.

... and I can't wait until they have to clean out the refrigerator.  WEEKS worth of takeout, in styrofoam boxes, nonetheless.  In my day, we didn't go out for lunch everyday.  We had lunchboxes, and brought our lunch, and we didn't let it sit and rot in the ice box!  Who's gonna' pick up their dry-cleaning, I wonder, because I doubt they even know where the dry cleaners is! And another thing.....

Click the logo to see what I've been missing

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5:40 PM - Bliss - blog-b-cue
Current mood: happy
Category: Writing and Poetry

Everything is vague to a degree you do not realize till you have tried to make it precise.
Bertrand Russell

He nuzzled deeper into her neck, seeking comfort from the warmth of her skin and the smell of her hair.  She shifted slightly beneath him and reached up to twine her fingers through his hair.  His lips pulled at her, working up the nape of her neck, behind her ear, across her brow and down the ridge of her nose resting finally on her lips.

Their tongues mingled, gently caressing, exploring each others mouth.  He pulled back and let out a sigh.

"I could get used to this."  Her eyes smiled as she nodded and hugged him in agreement.

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9:59 PM - Quitters never win - LFB
Current mood: optimistic
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes

Never tell anyone that you're writing a book, going on a diet, exercising, taking a course, or quitting smoking. They'll encourage you to death.
Lynn Johnston
For Better or For Worse, 07-15-06

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