I came home today to find this message on AIM -

Friend: I dreamt a dream last night. You were building an airport, part-Escher, part-the Lost Island. There was no stopping you. There were Mario Bros.-like objects floating in the air above me, and I had to jump and grab bottles of chianti to bring to you, so you'd have enough power to continue
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"How much coffee have I had? Like, this morning? Lots. Lots and lots, actually. I need it. Coffee converts to ideas. Conversion: coffee to ideas... causal relationship."

- Doc ChantKen has The Kidney Stones, and nobody wants his shift ( Read more... )

Cleaning crew is here. A couple of big guys in grimy undershirts, sweating profusely and coming into my cubicle once in a while to spray my feet with pesticide, or vacuum under my chair while I'm on the phone. I've nicknamed one of them Cletus. Cletus and I are bestest buds ( Read more... )

Being almost unbearably stifling and moist for 360 days out of the year, Florida has a seemingly endless supply of cozy cotton t-shirts with clever slogans and designs that are especially suitable for beachy time. And as home to the world's elderly and terminally frugal, there are discount retail outlets on every corner ( Read more... )

My last 75 cents goes toward a bag of baked potato chips, and when I open the machine flap to retrieve them, I find a Snickers sitting there with them in the tray, paid for and forgotten. I spend the next half-hour eating chips and thinking about tragic irony and whether or not it will affect my hypothetical karma to eat someone else's lost candy ( Read more... )

Home from Buffalo since tuesday evening. I've been trying to finish up this graduation video for PLP, and so I haven't been able to write up a reunion recap, but one is coming very soon. Pictures are being resized and I'll have time to go over everything while the video copies in the living room ( Read more... )

rrrrrrrrrrrr.

Christian the Grumpy Know-It-All approaches me at work yesterday morning.

"How do you get away with those shorts?" he asks.
"I dunno. I have nice legs," I say.
"No, no, no," he says, "I mean at work. Every day you show up in shorts and sandals. The rest of us have to wear pants."
"Oh," I say, "I didn't know that."and I didn't ( Read more... )

I saw a skinny white thug riding side-saddle on a Vespa on my way to work today. He had his little sun-visor on upside-down and crooked and everything.