Thursday, November 01, 2007

Meet my raccoon! She's my spirit daemon and her name is Brienne. In daemon language that translates to "furry groper." I find it appropriate.

I found it on my link hunting. It's for the movie "The Golden Compass." What's so keen is that after you get one you can ask other friends to rate you and make sure it's accurate. I like that because as the King said in The Little Prince, judging oneself is the hardest thing to do.

Wednesday, October 31, 2007


'98 Mercury Tracer. Original Owner. This Christine of coupes is one of the worst cars ever shat out by the American auto industry. Runs reliably and will only fail to function once a year when you need it most. Has 180,000 miles on it and each mile has been more horrible than the last. Perfect "get" for your divorced spouse or child that needs to build character and learn that there are more important things in life than a personal vehicle. New tires and frosty AC. Recipients of this vehicle will receive my profuse apologies and a free breakfast.

Monday, October 29, 2007

It is not a rare occasion where I drunkenly blog and/or make absolutely no sense.

What is unusual is when I don't remember having done so.

David D. was right on to ask what I was drinking. I will answer. It was a delightful rum called Sailor Jerry. It is a higher proof than the average rum and uses a cherry flavoring. It goes down smooth.

It is dangerous.

I have been a slave to my bakery and Arizona Jewish Theatre Company for the last month and have had exactly one chance to indulge in drink. I had a few beers and felt horrible the next day so I vowed not to drink again until I had the next day completely free to wallow in my misery. That opportunity was last night and that day is today.

I rather regret my drunken post as there is a bit of a menace to them. I assure you I was in a good mood. As is not terribly uncommon, I began to sing Sarah McLachlan lyrics. This particular time I chose Building A Mystery. It's one of her edgier songs. I like it a lot and it will play at my funeral.

The last couple of posts were inspired by me trying to be an artistic enough person to win the heart of Sarah McLachlan. That may never happen but that doesn't mean I won't stop trying.

I can picture it now: Sarah will be randomly googling her own lyrics and stumble on my blog. She will be captivated by my brilliant use of the letter W in my tag for the post. If that doesn't win her heart, my gratuitous use of caps will.

I hope she will overlook my tsunami reference. Too soon, Lopez. Too soon.

i WILL NOT give in to the music that floodsa all y synapses they wanto to go a differen directiopn. Will you fall apart if I anot wiht you? Yeas, I am afraikd the way a surfer is afraid of a tsunami wave that launches towars them. Am I caught up inthe wave or am I a part of something biggerrer?
welcome to may blog where I reveeal everything in an intimate and charming setting. Let your guard down until you wake up screaming aloud. I am a fucked up man setting up my razor wire shrie. I'm workin g to build mystery and choosing soo carefully. I sing as I'm holiding ona; and chosing so carefully. I chooaw ro hols ir on N SHOLS IR IN IR'A MY ONLY WXPWEIWNXW I Xn xLL MNY O