I found my atlas -- it was under my bed.

So today I bought half the IKEA Sultan Sandane bed. It's the round bed, and it comes in four pizza-slice segments of 90 degrees. I can't fit that in my bedroom and still have space for books, a desk, and for, you know, the door to swing open ( Read more... )

If you have a canker sore, and the analgesic says to take once every four hours, but it only actually works for about half an hour at a time, is it OK to use eight times the recommended dose over the course of a day?

My landlord still hasn't cashed the deposit from two weeks ago, or the rent that was due yesterday. So I have about a thousand dollars less than my checking account shows, and this is beginning to tempt and to irritate me.

When I die, I plan to leave a considerable net worth behind me. My wife will take her share, but the rest I will bury in small chests near places I have visited over a lifetime. Only the discerning eye of a scholar with a genuine interest in my notebooks, my biography, my journals, will be able to unearth the untold treasures of the historian's

OK, since I pissed people off about Lost, my suggestion now -- everyone should watch Entourage. And if anyone wants to, you know, become a star and invite me along for the ride, I will come.

A red-cover world atlas, about a foot and a half by three feet, is missing in my house. That such an object could just be missing in the confines of my house somehow unsettles me. What the hell else could be hiding in here?

When the FUCK is season two of Lost going to be on DVD?

"[At the approach of the legions of Constantine] Pleasure was still the only business of Maxentius. Concealing, or at least attempting to conceal, from the public knowledge the misfortunes of his arms, he indulged himself in a vain confidence, which deferred the remedies of the approaching evil without deferring the evil itself."

Gibbon, Vol. I,

He'll outlive all you goddamn bastards in Miami and the White House yet.