Missing You

It's been ten years and a thousand beers...no it's just been several months and I miss you already, cult of the absurd. As much as I enjoy running around the tumblr realm, you are my very first blog and you'll always be special, cult. Don't ever forget that. Someday, I'll have time for you, but until then, I'll just have to post random nonsense to remind you of how much you mean to me.

Dear Reader

I would like to apologize to the one or three people who drunkenly peruse this blog occasionally, and those who looking for hemorrhoid relief or S & M who stumble across it, because I will be very light with my posting for a while. I just started school again, full time (emphasis on full time) and won't be able to commit nearly as much time as I desire to the fine art of blogging.

Be this as it may, Cult of the Absurd will continue on a limited basis, as will my more regular and poorly edited posts on life in code. Bear with me. Once I'm out of school in a couple of years, I'll likely be bound to an uninspiring "real" job and have plenty of time to bitch and moan through rants and so forth.

Thank you patient reader, you make life worth the unknown miles ahead. See you, out there in the blogosphere (*haghkk* I just threw up in my mouth for using that word).

My favorite Cult of the Absurd referrals

(I know this is blogging de rigueur, but it’s fun!):

besthelpforhemorrhoidsnow.com

www.google.com/search?q=tied+up+cum+shots

www.bodybuildingrx.com/products.html

Favorite Key words:

the song digestion boogaloo (Just gotta say huh?)

tied up cum shots (back for its second round!)

cult rabbit head (what cult is this? Sign me up!)

kierkegaard existentialism (now this just makes me happy)

Hey blog perusers from everywhere – keep reading the posts, I’ll keep writing them.

If you’re looking for higher quantity postings, you might want to check out my tumblr account as well, as I post there almost daily (nothing against this blog, I simply try to keep its quantity and quality more consistant) at http://lifeencoded.tumblr.com/

See ya in the (no, I can’t say it…) blogosphere. (Blech!)

Tweet This!

These are some of my rejected entrants in the NYC Midnight micro-fiction contest (hope you enjoy the losers):


An old story: boy meets girl, boy sleeps with girl, boy never calls. Worlds divided by empty words.

The words were dark, making his heart wrench. He drove his fist into the other man, driven by rage.

As they they lay there, he said many things. But in the end, his words were as empty as his heart.

Words, ties which bind us to forever. Clouds floating in Machiavellian glee. New concepts absorbed.

Born of sentences. Stung by words. Eviscerated by paragraphs. Reformed by phrases. Vaguely dubious.

As she walked home, the stars exploded with words. She couldn't believe she'd met a pleasant person.

Birthday (Fiction in 55)

The sun beat down as I marched up the hill. It was my girlfriend's birthday and I'd just been in a car accident. Her flowers were wilting, her card was smudged, but at least the bottle of wine wasn't broken, much like my spirit. I've never wanted to be home so much in my life.

Which best describes you? (like a non-job interview)

Several times a day...

1. I follow the leader.

2. I contemplate the existence of Jebus.

3. I fall down laughing from Existential Irony.

4. I attempt to decipher (on my own) the Rosetta Stone.

5. I meet with my superiors to determine the best way to assassinate world leaders.

6. I watch television.

7. I end my long career in journalism.

8. I await orgasm with baited breath.

9. I watch my neighbor's murder through the back window of my apartment.

10. I supplement my CCG collection on Ebay.

11. I find substance where there is none.

What qualifies as an unusual day?

1. A man (my second customer of the day) refuses to pay eighty-nine cents more than his assumption of an original, post-tax purchase of plastic, display flowers, and argues with me, a co-worker and a manager in Spanish for five minutes.

2. The night before, I have trouble sleeping on account of strange dreams involving sinister shadow-shapes trying to abduct Nicole and I. That and work until close (one am) and have to be at work at ten am the next morning. I've always had trouble calming down when I work late. I don't know why.

3. When the couple in front of her don't have enough food stamps to pay for their order, they walk off, never to return (this is not abnormal). After waiting for a considerable amount of time, enough to clear out and return their order - and upon finding her Chicken Salad sans any price or UPC code - she is still remarkably cordial.

4. A man, upon finding out he was accidentally charged for the next customer's soda, rather than making a stink or requesting a refund, simply gives the other fellow the soda.

5. I find out that my college transcript, which was supposed to be sent to a prospective college a month ago, is being held, pending my summer semester grades. Problem being: I'm not taking any summer courses.

6. I hit my elbow against a basket and rather than the old tingling, funny-bone action as per usual, an odd pain leaps up my arm, causing me to get really fucking dizzy.

7. Its not bad enough I'm running around pushing baskets in the blacktop at 103 degrees Fahrenheit, but on top of that, a bunch of cranky, just after nine-to-fivers keep nearly running me over in their quest for the perfect parking spot.

All things considered, yesterday was a fucked up day.

First Impression (Fiction in 55 or less)

I saw him coming out of a barber shop, walking down 15^th Street. He stared at me an unhealthy length of time, his gaze leering and inappropriate. I readied my "see anything you like," comment as he gawked interminably at me. As he got closer, I realized he was blind. I felt like an utter fool.

Waiting Game

Why are humans so very impatient these days? For that matter, why am I so impatient? I started wondering about this when I noticed myself tapping my fingers and toes anytime I had to wait for anything. When did I decide that life was taking too long? I wonder if it has something to do with being over thirty (or was I always this impatient?). Everywhere I go, I notice the same tell-tale signs: people rolling through stoplights, constantly checking their phones for time, texts or voice mails, rolling their eyes whenever somebody breaks out a checkbook. I mean, does it really take an interminable amount of time to scribble shit onto a tiny piece of paper?

Perhaps our everything-at-our-fingertips world taints our ability to persevere. Perhaps being able to flip through channels when commercials come on, or flip between windows when our movies are buffering, led us down this path. Is it really so bad to wait? Are we so insufferable when we're waiting because we smell the end at hand (and I don't mean all this 2012 nonsense)? And I'm certainly not suggesting I'm immune to this behavior. It's not that difficult to wait in line, or sit at traffic lights, but somehow it seems as though anything usurping our precious time ought to wind up before a tribunal on crimes against humanity. The rapid pacing of our lives seems to have eaten away at our ability to slow down, to take our time. To savor the universe around us, rather than spin ever faster down our paths. This is tragic. Perhaps we all need to sit back for a few seconds every day and watch the clouds marching across the sky (unless you live in Texas right now, then imagine them, like I do), enjoy the birds chatting up each other in the trees, or the accidental sculpture of hills and valleys. Because our internal clocks are right. We are running out of time. And the truly saddest people will be those who lived without enjoying themselves, because there are no guarantees as to what awaits us when life's over.

So I beg you (maybe not you in particular): savor the small things, slow down for just a second or two. You'll get where your going eventually, but will you be ready for what you don't find?

Vacation-Based Absence

Hello to the occasional browser or repeat viewer. I've been on a three week vacation and limited in my ability to access the internet. In any case, its been a while since I've updated Cult, but rest assured there is more material about my inane existence forthcoming.

We had a pleasant if strenuous (meaning both travel-time and alcohol intake) vacation, which brought us back into the tumultuous Midwest and its wildly vacillating climate - for example, when we arrived in Madison, it was in the upper fifties (at night, that is). That weekend, we climbed into the seventies, nearly to 80, but by the time we arrived up north (to the Lake Tomahawk area), temperatures were in the fifties during the day.

But the relaxation and the booze both flowed freely, and now its back to the daily grudge. Above is an assortment of imagery from the journey, with a high-speed tourist review of Memphis, TN forthcoming.

Pictures (from top):

Arkansas Rest-Stop Flag (I'd never been to Arkansas. We stopped in Bill Clinton's home town of Hope. The last president we had a stable economy under was from Hope. Hmm...)

Walking to Downtown Memphis, with our friends Aleks and Tyler.

Weird picture of a semi on the way out of Memphis.

Stormy rural Missouri.

Stormy Madison, Wisconsin.

Stormy Austin Morning

Initially, upon doing my climatological homework (something I now require before moving to a new location), I discovered that Austin had a fairly decent amount of stormy weather. This was good news. Of course, to my dismay, we moved here during La Nina, and the weather has been unseasonably hot and dry. So it came as a great relief (and comfort - as it reminded me of my home town, Madison, WI) to get a barnstorming severe storm tearing through Austin today. At one point, while driving through the east side of town, the wind patterns had an eerily cyclonic appearance - although upon further review, no tornadic activity was reported. In any case, following along both my amateur meteorological and amateur photographic bent, here are some pictures of my tempestuous morn. (By the way, the middle picture is of a pea-sized hail stone - in case you were wondering)

The War on Symbolism

I admit, I usually prefer to keep this a place of creativity before politics (mostly because its probably painfully obvious where I stand), but on occasion I feel the need to rant about current events, and this is one of those times. Bear with me please.

The recent "announcement" of Osama (Usama) Bin Laden's death comes as a continual reminder of the problem of scale within our modern society. Of course, the US populace's first reaction is one of flag-waving celebration. This I can understand, although it seems rather jingoistic and somewhat empty to me. Of course much of the country is relieved to find him dead - he did take credit for the most heinous attack on US soil in decades. But what perturbs me to no end are the implications surround the entire course of events.

In destroying Bin Laden, we've succeeded in what exactly? Killing the figurehead of terrorism across the world? In a biblical "eye for an eye" sense, I can certainly understand the adulation, but what has this accomplished in reality? The war on terror has, in essence, been a war on iconography - on symbolism. A war against ideology has a limited means of success from its very inception. This war may have been one of the Bush Regime's biggest successes. How can you win a war which can never be won? How can you kill an idea? I honestly wonder that if Bin Laden hadn't been ill - possibly dying already, as some sources report - if his reign of terror wouldn't have continued indefinitely.

Now, I'm not trying to drum up ire against the US government here. They can do that excessively well on their own. What I am concerned about are the underlying misconceptions, as well as what the magic mirror of self-examination mentions about our ideological battles. Sure, Bin Laden's dead, the head of Al Qaeda is no more. But what does that mean to us? An icon is dead. Unfortunately, icons have an annoying little habit of becoming martyrs to their causes. When the man dies, though, he doesn't take his ideas with him. Fanaticism is like a hydra - when you cut off its head, typically, it just smirks and sticks another head in your face.

But the underlying theme isn't "terrorism will live forever," because that's a given. As long as their are ideas, there will be counter-ideas, in lesser and greater extremes. The real issue is how did our world become so polarized? How did the United States alienate the fringes of one of the largest religious groups in the world? We're missing the larger image here.

The US has made a habit of stepping on, making shady backroom deals with, and installing politically friendly, if unpopular, leaders in countries where we see opportunities for resources. This is the nasty side of world diplomacy. It makes sense from a Machiavellian point of view. But while we were turning a lauded "freedom fighter" against Soviet forces into "Public Enemy Number One"; while we were supporting regimes who oppressed their peoples' democratic rights, but bowed before the almighty United States (or at least its money); while global corporations were exploiting the underdeveloped resources of impoverished nations - with a blinded US eye; the kindling of frustration erupted into an inferno of resistance. Our iron-fisted "diplomacy" poked the serpents nest and rather than diffusing the situation, we ignored it, or worse:

I try not this cynical, but sometimes I wonder if we didn't welcome it. I wonder, because this burgeoning terrorist network prompted several wars, helped keep US citizens distracted from their problems and focused bigotry into a sharply tuned Islamic point. And once again, much of the US populace missed that fact. We wanted the quick fix. We wanted to punish a previously US supported dictator for non-existent weapons of mass destruction. We wanted to trounce a regime which we once fed with arms and support against the Russians. Suddenly, taking out our former ally, Bin Laden, would solve all our problems - the little anti-terrorist anti-depressant which would make everything better.

We once again missed the forest for a few scraggly trees.

We continually fail to recognize the simple similarities to a childhood idiom - do unto others as you'd have done to you. Now, I'm not a bald-faced idealist like I once was. I recognize that there probably have always, and likely will always be conflict in our world. But if, for once, we acted to support developing nations, rather than taking advantage of their neediness and instability, perhaps we could bolster trust, rather than animosity. If rather than bullying people for resources, we helped them develop them in a non-invasive and ecologically viable fashion, maybe they'd be more likely to see us as thugs and more apt to call us allies. Perhaps if we didn't let our own one dimensional caricatures of other cultures and ideologies shadow our common sense, we could start to really view the world less as potential threats and more as potential cohorts.

Yeah, I know, I really do sound idealistic. But maybe for once we should let a different kind of mindset out in public. It's the 21st motherfucking century for fucks sake! Our planet's running out of space and resources. Our atmosphere may well be artificially warming. Its time we shook off the blinders and understood that killing a terrorist figurehead won't end our problems; that drilling for more oil won't make us economically more viable for much longer; that we're heading for important, potentially world-rending decisions in our lifetime. Its time to stop dicking around with quick fixes and trying to understand - much less solve - the real issues of our times.

Thanks for indulging me. I needed to get that off my chest.

Where are they going?

Have you ever just sat somewhere (preferably a porch or bar. Also preferably with beer in hand.) and watched people walking by? I have. I always wonder where they're going, why they're in such a hurry (is it the modern phenomenon of "bigger, faster, more" which drives us ever faster or is it simply that we're late to work). Sometimes I like to make up stories or destinations. That tall man on the bus is going to a conference on astrophysics with a brilliant paper tucked away in his tattered saddle-bag. That couple in the Subaru is trying to get to a hospital to see her sister's new baby, but their car is about to break down. They'll make it there eventually, but not without an aura of frustration and subtle hints of grease. That woman is a Brazilian tourist, on her way back to the Motel 6 - only to discover a couple fucking in her room by accident (the accident not being the fucking, but that they're in the wrong room). Will she join in or run screaming to the manager? That cop is about to arrest a flasher in Zilker Park, who'll turn out to be - insert tense fanfare - nothing but a pervy, old flasher.

I can't help being fascinated by people. As easy as it is to get thoroughly sick of humans (ask me about my anti-social binges), its also impossible not to find a sense of wonder, even in the most mundane of human activities (such as heading from point a to point b). I just hope that sense of wonder never fades. I think then, I truly will be a stodgy old man.

Everybody Walks in San Antone

Some recent candid shots of our trip to San Antonio. And yes, that is the outside of the Alamo. Yes, I am that cliche - for Nicole's mom's visit.

Hemorrhage

I awoke after the flurries had ended, and glanced out the window. Her footprints left a slushy trail from my apartment. She'd left that morning, after a night that proved more arctic inside than out. Her absence yanked more stitches from the sutured wound of my life. If I didn't hear from her soon, I'd probably hemorrhage completely by tomorrow.

A Moment to Ponder

I enjoy writing and I enjoy taking pictures, but I've always had a subtle problem with the phrase "A picture is worth a thousand words." While it is true that a picture is able to sum up a vast amount of information in a small space, the converse always struck me as more intensive. One word, can hold ten, a hundred, a thousand or more pictures within it.

Take a word such as plant. To most, it likely conjures various images - a tree, a rutabaga, a blade of grass, a flower, etc. ad nauseum. But it doesn't necessarily bring to mind the exact same image to the every person. Considering there is a bounteous array of flora in the world's numerous regions, and that the word "plant" is likely found in most, if not all languages - the number of images "plant" refers to make it a staggering amount of permutations per person per region per planet.

In that sense, a word has a nearly infinite number of pictures.

And this is what I think about when I can't sleep. Crikey.

Little Slices of Austin

Austin is a way-point for many migratory birds, but by far the greatest avian populace belongs the grackles.


The Frost building is one of Austin's tallest buildings, but it's not as majestic through an alley.
Austin has a number of nice parks and river set-ups which simply require further exploration.

I inquire, I respond #2 - answer key (for those playing along)

And now, the answers to those brain-boggling questions from Ir,Iq#2:

1. Do you file 0, 1, or 2, etc. on your W4s?

Shouldn't you buy me dinner before asking such personal questions? Whichever one lets the government have less of my money to start unjustified wars with.

2. Have you ever thought about leaping from a tall building - not to die, but to find out what falling that far feels like?

Every time I'm in a tall building.

3. Would you, if you could get away with it socially, tell people your unvarnished, abject opinions?

I'd like to say yes, but in reality, I'd still probably be too polite to smite someone like that.

4. What is your earliest childhood memory/how far back can you remember your formative years?

My earliest childhood memory is holding my baby sister when I was two. Otherwise, breaking my leg at 3-ish years old.

5. If you were forced to give up either the ability to read or the capacity to enjoy music, which would you choose and why?

In either scenario, hand me the pistol - I'm done!

6. What horror movie would you be in and why?

Dario Argento's Inferno - because its so surreal and it makes little sense. I'd be all right with dying for a chance to live in that wacky part of Italy.

7. Do you believe the term "racism" is valid? Why or why not?

Racism is an archaic and invalid expression. It refers to the bigoted notion that the human "race" is made up of subspecies, which is thoroughly and utterly ludicrous and scientifically unsound. It has as much credence to it as creationism. If the world was actually created several thousand years ago, then maybe various skin tones and ethnicities would actually have major physical and mental differences.

8. What would you choose to power your dream-car?

Bullshit - we've got an endless supply of it on this planet!

9. Where is your ideal place to live?

My dream residence is a little villa on the coast of Spain! Mas cervesa, mas margaritas y tapas vegetariana por favor!

10. Do you ever have brainstorms while going to the bathroom?

Sheesh, are you gonna ask me about my last physical next? Yes! The bathroom seems an oddly fertile place for creative ideas. Next best place: when I'm in bed, just about to fall asleep.

11. If you could get a hold of a time machine, but were only allowed one trip into the past or future (knowing you could not alter anything, merely observe), what would you do with your trip?

I want to say something profound, like watch the first man-fish take its initial steps from the water, or catch Gutenberg as he designed and built his printing press, but I'd probably just check out Otis Redding in his prime, or hop to a Stoodges/MC5 show circa '69.

Breakfast Tacos

I'm not much of a chef, but I whipped up some breakfast tacos that were pretty damn good today, and I thought I'd share the recipe because it turned out surprisingly delicious. Those fans of breakfast tacos will likely understand, and those new to the breakfast taco really out to acquaint themselves with this delicious breakfast (brunch or brinner) medium.

The recipe is simple for a single serving (increase quantities appropriately if more is desired):

2 eggs
1/4 cup fresh/frozen/canned corn
1/4 cup veggie crumbles/taco-seasoned textured vegetable protein (or real meat if preferred)
onion powder
ancho chile powder (or chipotle powder for a smokier flavor)
a pinch of cumin

beat the (thawed) corn and crumbles with the eggs until frothy
cook to desired texture (although I recommend a delicately golden-brown for maximum internal taco coherence)

Top with a medium salsa of preference
and (here's the odd key) ranch dressing (only in the southwest, right?)


Note: I have yet to experiment with a tofu scramble/vegan ranch base yet, as being a student/full-time employee primarily permits convenience foods. Someday perhaps.

I inquire, I respond #2

Do you really want to know more about me, or more about yourselves? Maybe not, but in the interest of further self-exploration and self-aggrandizement, I present the second installment of I inquire, I respond (or IiIr for laziness):

1. Do you file 0, 1, or 2, etc. on your W4s?

2. Have you ever thought about leaping from a tall building - not to die, but to find out what falling that far feels like?

3. Would you, if you could get away with it socially, tell people your unvarnished, abject opinions?

4. What is your earliest childhood memory/how far back can you remember your formative years?

5. If you were forced to give up either the ability to read or the capacity to enjoy music, which would you choose and why?

6. What horror movie would you be in and why?

7. Do you believe the term "racism" is valid? Why or why not?

8. What would you choose to power your dream-car?

9. Where is your ideal place to live?

10. Do you ever have brainstorms while going to the bathroom?

11. If you could get a hold of a time machine, but were only allowed one trip into the past or future (knowing you could not alter anything, merely observe), what would you do with your trip?

(answers forthcoming)

(sex)

Who Shot JR?

Several months ago, my girlfriend Nicole and I went to Dallas with our friends Lucy and Aleks. These are several alcohol-fueled snaps of the downtown ambiance.



Even in the midst of oil money's ostentatious excess, one cannot escape the indomitable ravages of Subway.


Technically, these were taken in Fort Worth, at the stockyards, but I feel these pictures somehow exemplify the cantankerous, rugged aspects of Texas.

Hicksville Hex (The Devonsville Terror)

Oh, ya hey der. How's it going? Oh, that's pretty darn good, ya know. Oh, me? Well, not so good ya know. Why's that? Oh, well ya see - I live in this small town in New England. Ya see, everything's supposed to be just hunky-dory, but we've got this little problem - ya see. We got these outsiders. What'ya mean, my accent is too mid-western? Oh well, Wisconsin is the new New England - at least according to this film's location shooting.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, so we had these three young ladies, ya know, move into our tightly-knit, CHRISTIAN community, and well, ya know, they don't seem so great. They been putting all these ideas, see, into our kid's head. Ideas like: women could function without man-folk, like God could be a woman, like maybe, just maybe, there might not be a proper, christian god. I don't know, but I don't like the cut of their jib.

Ya see, many years ago, this small New England town (not, I repeat, not Wisconsin, ya know) was infested with witches. Them witches ran around, messin' up the livestock, withering the crops and corruptin' the men-folk with their way-too-sexy bodies and way-too-radical ideas. Come to think of it, these women bear a peculiar resemblance to some a them? Hmm...

Anyhow, Ulli Lommel he come out here and shoots this film, not too disimilar from our small (ahem) New England lives. I think its supposed to be some allegory about how people oughtn't judge others for being different (think I read something about that somewhere), and how hysteria is never in short supply when superstition outweighs reason and ration, and how ugly truths are often better hidden underneath rhetoric and lies - but I don't know.

Its hard to get past this whole Wisconsin for New England thing. Plus, can't say the acting is da greatest in this little film, ya. I mean, aside from this Donald Pleasance character, its a little sparse in der. The plot takes a while to develop, but ya know, it gets pretty tense. I mean, I don't really see the connection in what we did to them ladies and what them New Englanders did to tha witches, but whatever brings da cows home. Crazy German filmmakers should be out tendin' the livestock, not making pseudo-artsy horror films.

So dats my story. Have a good day.

Oh So Many Guilty Pleasures...

Let's face it, we've all got cultural tastes which stretch well beyond the cool, the relevant - even the outro - and into the closet of denial. I am now laying bare this murky closet, airing the stinky sock music; the dingy, moldy plates of film; the dust-infested tomes stashed so far from the light that they're practically albino. Enjoy my bathos (in no particular order):

11. Smack by Melvin Burgess.
Now admittedly this book is rather dark and disturbing for young adult fare, but it's still a young adult novel. The subject matter hits a little close to home as well.

10. Oingo Boingo.
Some people tell me I shouldn't feel guilty (and in fact I don't) about liking - no - loving this band. But I seem to get an awfully large amount of odd stares when I start rocking out to "Weird Science." You know what - fuck it! I'm not guilty at all: I love Oingo Boingo!

9. Star Trek (pretty much anything aside from Enterprise - sorry Count Bakula).
I understand that this unquestionably places nerd brackets around me, but I can't help but enjoy their somewhat hackneyed and cloyingly optimistic messages about our society cum the future. Fine! Here's my lunch money - now leave me alone.

8. Third Wave Ska.
Goddamnit I know! It's rather lame! But I loved that sound in the 90s - that I can't make up my mind whether I'm a hardcore/punk band or ska band - and I can't seem to get over it.

7. Secret of N.I.M.H. by Robert C. O'brien.
Look, this book may be for kids but it has it all: action, drama, intrigue, science-fiction cautionary edge (technology vs. human spirit), hyper-evolved rats and it's an allegory to boot! Most adult fiction wishes it had this much going on.

6. Charmed.
I know I have an easy out - numerous sexy women in the cast. But I have to admit that I completely got sucked into this show. That the cast is easy on the eyes doesn't hurt either, but lets face it - this is the definition of guilty pleasure.

5. Dio.
There is no irony in my enjoyment of Dio. I understand how this makes me look. Meh.

4. Weather.
What do I mean by weather? I mean all of it. I love watching the weather channel. I enjoy reading about tornadoes and hail and lightning. I own a video narrated by Buzz Aldrin with nothing but footage of tornadoes. I would be a storm chaser (refer to I Inquire I respond). I would even be a weather watcher - ham radio and all. I'm a weather dork and I accept full responsibilities for all which that entails.

3. Son In Law.
I know - it's a Pauly Shore movie. No one is supposed to like Pauly Shore movies, except after his reinvention - and not even then. I saw it when I was young, and I liked it. I watched it several years ago on television and I still thought it was fun. "Inbreeders!"

2. Diablo II
I've never considered myself beholden to any one thing. I have spent many hours living through consoles or video-blind at a CRT monitor, but my shame comes not from my attachment to, but from my inability to escape from Diablo II. I can't even fathom the number of hours, drained away by that pixellated succubus. My greatest salvation comes from my inability to run Diablo III (upon its release), due to my antiquated computer.

1. "Walking on Sunshine" by Katrina and the Waves.
What can I say? The song just makes me happy. Is it wrong to feel happy? I think not.

Urban Spelunking.

As I pushed it onto the street, the sewer grate felt like hoisting a locomotive. It was right then and there I decided never to go urban spelunking again. At least it didn't rain and flash-flood all over us, I thought.

Why I thought crawling around in a sewer would be fun is beyond me.

Happy Roo Year!

Some years flip digits on the cosmic alarm clock without anything more than a requisite hang-over. Others begin with subtle delights which key you into the smells of a good year frying in the skillet. Others, such as this, begin with ominous overtones. By ominous overtones, I mean being roofied at a New Years Party and catching Malware on your computer.

But at least I got rid of the Malware.

I hope your new decade smells better than mine does.

On that cheery note: Happy 2011!