I love Kermit.

Upon hearing the news that my template may indeed be alive somewhere, there was much happy-dancing, much singing amorously, and (to his dismay) a furious wrestling match with The Noobers on the kitchen floor.  Poor dog.  I really think he thought I was trying to kill him.

Many thanks, Kermit.  I am deeply in your debt.

And thanks to everyone who sent me their links.  I owe all of you bagels with your choice of topping.

I mean it.

Oh, and a beer counts as a topping.

I am weary.

I have been poring over the HTML for this blasted template and I have yet to figure out how to change anything for the better. Worst than my HTML ineptitude is my discovery that the copy of my old template is not complete. It's very strange; none of the links copied.

Everything else around the links seems to have copied. Just not the actual links.

For the first time I feel truly alone.

I feel lost. I don't know where anyone is anymore. Well, not everyone.

It reminds me of life before and after getting a cell phone. I knew all my closest friends phone numbers by heart before I got a cell phone. Now, I don't know the phone numbers of most of my close friends. I have become so dependent on my little electronic phonebook that I am almost completely helpless without it.

It appears the same is true of my links.

So if you're site is wondering where I've been, tell it that I'm wandering around lost somewhere searching for it. I'm sure I'll come across it in time. How vast can the internets possibly be?

But that wasn't what I sat down to write about.

I'm rebuilding my writing area. It is almost complete. This is something of a test run.

I am not entirely well.

I am physically and mentally out of shape. I can feel it. Even now I'm already winded. It hurts to go on and I want just lie down. It seems that's all I've been wanting to do with my spare time as of late. But I've accounted for that.

I've never been much good at resisting temptation. However, I am fairly good when temptation isn't around so my only hope is to avoid it. Therefore, I have modified my existing futon/bunk bed into a loft bed. I've essentially removed the futon bottom, raised the whole thing, added supports where I could, and stuck my writing desk underneath.

Now it is squeaky, uncomfortable, and remarkably unstable.

I love it.

The once-simple act of taking a nap now involves climbing a ladder and trying to avoid getting hit in the face by a ceiling fan. And, as I've discovered, there is a learning curve.

I'll have to put off posting any new pictures until this giant welt goes away. ("It's not so much here, or here, as riiiight here.")

Having said that, I'm off to try again.

Anyone that still comes here, please send me your link. Don't make me come after you.

DC was wise enough to point out that this month is National Novel Writing Month.

Now is my chance to write a novel about a sass-talking mail clerk that works for an intergalactic insurance company.

I must thank DC for informing me of National Novel Month. I see this is my golden opportunity to fulfill my life-long dream of writing a novel about a sass-talking mail-boy for an intergalactic insurance company.


To be honest, I was kidding at first, but I'm really starting to like the idea...

Thus, I do decree that this novel-writing shall be "On like Megatron," as the kids are saying these days...and by these days I mean the late 1980's.

* * * * *

Despite the best advice of the finest online-quizzes from across the internets, I was not The Cheat for Halloween.

No, I dressed up as Strongbad.

The costume was fairly easy to put together. I bought a pair of big, red boxing gloves and Agent Mulk graciously provided the luchadora mask. I sewed a blue jewel on the forehead of the mask, put it on, donned my boxing gloves, tried to take off my shirt, took off the gloves, took off my shirt, grabbed a six-pack of cold ones and I was on my way.

I don't know how Strongbad does it. I had to ask people to get my cold ones out of the fridge for me, open them up, and then tuck them into one of my boxing gloves. Also, I had a really hard time opening doors. Oh, and I couldn't answer my cell phone. But I realized that none of these things were that bad when, after a few cold ones, I was frantically trying to figure out a way to get into the bathroom and urinate.

I had a great time.

There are some pictures somewhere, but I don't have any myself. If I come across any, I will post them.

Much love,

Guillermo

Kermit wins the prize for uncovering my gluttonous side! While I greatly admire Ol' Franklin (I'm reading his autobiography right now) and I do understand the benefits of healthy eating, I don't think he or I put that maxim to action very often.

Now for the promised prize.

The prize is...another quote! This one comes to us from a source far less removed in time and space, if perhaps not reality.

Luis, Beth, and I went to the Phoenix Zoo this Saturday. After a fun-filled afternoon of kettle korn eating, paddle-boat paddling, and careening madly about on a two-person passenger bike with Luis screaming in the back, we all made our weary way home. In the car I asked Luis, "So what was your favorite animal?"

"The elephant," Luis said.

"Why is the elephant your favorite?"

"Because he wouldn't tell us where the zebras were."


The Cheat. You are evil and you are constantly
causing trouble. Strangely, you never get
blamed for it and you're very popular, probably
cuz you're so gosh darn cute. Rules were meant
to be broken, right?


What HomeStarRunner Character are you? (pictures)
brought to you by Quizilla

Monday's Quiz:

I model my life using two out of three of the following quotes:

"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night." —Edgar Allan Poe "You cannot be mad at somebody who makes you laugh—it's as simple as that. —Jay Leno "To lengthen thy life, lessen thy meals." —Benjamin Franklin Guess which quote doesn't belong and win a prize!

The other night I pulled into my neighborhood around 2 am and I saw four
young adults attempting to break into a vehicle.  Thefts from automobiles
are not uncommon around here.  I called the police.

I spoke to the dispatcher and answered all her questions.  I told her that
none of them had seemed to care that I had driven right by them, which is
unusual for people caught in the act.  She assured me that thieves are
"very bold."

I thought back to Rogue and Vagabond Training School...

"If you do not act like you're doing anything wrong," my old, grizzled,
ninja/pirate instructor had said to me,  "People will not think you're
doing anything wrong."

The dispatcher informed me that two police cars and a helicopter were on
their way.

Ten minutes later, she called me back to tell me that, in fact, the car had
belonged to one of the four guys.

Now I know how the Patriot Act must feel...