9622.net

ColdChef brought it up, so I guess all the cool kids are doing it.

Mine has the basics - wallet, checkbook, business cards. Four lipstick products even though I wear lipstick very rarely. A fold-up hairbrush that was a Clinique gift-with-purchase circa 1980. The schedule for my upcoming restaurant reviews, on top of a note to myself and my car insurance card. A tiny Maglite, just out of frame on the right. Two pens. That forlorn little piece of chain? That was attached to the Tofu Keychain that Vidiot sent me, and I haven't gotten over losing it yet. The licorice tin in the center is empty, too, but I am saving it so I remember what kind they were. They were awesome. Glide floss. Two Day-Quil, even though I don't have a cold.

Not pictured is my cellphone camera, that I used to take this really bad picture.

Well, I should hope not.

A replacement will be coming forthwith, Tizzie! No one should go tofu-less! (Or at least tofu-key-chain-less...)

I don't carry a purse, obviously. My wallet however, contains a few bucks, various forms of ID and a thick wad of register reciepts that I review periodically to see where I've been. Apparently, I've been to Chipotle, Key Food, The Strand Book Store and Eckerd recently.

I hope I had fun.

In my bookbag;

Copies of Mojo, Uncut, and Harp magazines.
Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey (Haven’t cracked it in twenty-some years, but I might give it a shot)
Various CDs, including: High Life, High Volume by The Forty-Fives; The Who Sell Out; Petra Haden Sings The Who Sell Out; End of Love by Clem Snide; and a whole bunch of Dylan left over from a recent trip.
The press kit that came with the Forty-Fives CD
The Red Cross Guide to First Aid (because you never know)
A corkscrew (because you never know)
My appointment calendar
A notebook
Visine
Blistex
A half-empty bag of Ricola and some Tylenol Daytime allergy pills from the last cold I had, back in January
The stub from what my employers laughably call a paycheck

Other than about three inchess of work paperwork my bag has:

-3 Moleskines (agenda book, notebook, and sketchpad)
-small mesh bag with several markers and water brush pens for drawing
-the March issue of the Believer
-new issue of Time Out Chicago
-about a dozen longer articles printed off the internet that I hope to read at some point
-a folder with cut out or printed pictures for when I can't find anything in the real world I want to draw
-travelers first aid kit and Tylenol
-Eclipse gum and Altoids
-Hand Healer & lip balm
-post it notes
-extra pens and Sharpies (that I never use but keep just in case)
-several highlighters

Good God, no wonder my bag is damn heavy. And that might explain why my back always hurts.

Everything you ever wanted to know (but were afraid to ask) about Seasons In The Sun.

The enduring appeal of an abominable pop song...

Abominable? Proof that the author of the peice has no soul.

In my bag right now:

--camera (with extra CF card + batteries + ZipLinq cable);
--umbrella;
--two issues of the Atlantic Monthly (I usually have the New Yorker in here until the current issue is read, but I haven't gotten this week's yet);
--cell phone charger;
--extra pens, highlighters, Sharpies;
--random mail and paper junk;
--the disc of a crummy movie that I lent to one of the reporters at work;
--eyeglass repair kit with lens cleaner;
--discman and headphones;
--CDs by Tift Merritt (Tambourine), the Pixies (Live in NYC 12/13/04), Matthew Sweet (Time Capsule), Peter Gabriel (Up), and New Pornographers (Mass Romantic);
--travel sewing kit;
--hand sanitizer goop;
--assorted buttons, matchbooks, and other junk I've picked up;
--work ID;
--checkbook;
--expired passport (to remind me to get a new one);
--ibuprofen and cold tablets.

You'll be hearing from my chiropractor shortly, I fear.

By the way, I had to say "disc" above instead of deeveedee, because the comment was "rejected for questionable content." WTF?

I guess I have no soul then, because I would describe "Seasons in the Sun" as loathsome.

It has not one, but three of the worst truck driver's gear changes I've ever heard.

Also, I'm, generally speaking, against doing the bag thing when it comes to us guys, once we're out of school. If you can't carry it in your pocket, leave it at home.

I have, in my laptop bag:
a laptop
three PG Tips tea bags (in case of teamergency)
iPod
Ginger Altoids
sunglasses
cellphone

I also should probably let you know that I just had my hair cut by a Nepalese monk. How cool is that?

TESTING, TESTING

Hey! Anyone want to buy a [questionable content removed]?
How about some porn?
Or an IPOD?
Would you like to try a Pepsi Blue?
Or perhaps replenish your printer ink?

This has been a test of the emergency comment system. Had this been a real comment, it would have been humorous.

So the only verboten item was the deeveedee. Good lord, people, where are our priorites?

I know, I know, they're probably in the priory.

priorities

I also should probably let you know that I just had my hair cut by a Nepalese monk.

Did he use scissors or merely some kind of shao-lin follicle death grip?

And I now see I could have skipped the iPod, as kaf covered that one.

Kaf, have you ever tried Lifeboat Tea?

Next to NAAFI tea, which is almost impossible to find (but sometimes shows up at Jungle Jim's, Lifeboat is my favorite.

Seasons in the Sun? Jon, you have got to be kidding.

And if that keeps running through my head all afternoon, I will hunt you down and make you listen to Wilco until you die.

I'm working on the deeveedee problem, peoples. It will be fixed by the time this blind kung fu master is done cutting my hair.

I like Wilco (up until Summerteeth at least, they started to lose me with that one), tizzie, so that's not a threat. "Seasons In The Sun," is a nice peice of sentimental 70's AM radio pop. For what it is, it's just fine. So, no I'm not kidding. Feel free to revoke my indie cred, since I never believed such a thing existed in the first place.

OK, I think I fixed it.

DVD!

There we go.

Though I stand by my assertion that DVDs are the devil's coasters!

Hey, the devil needs a place to put his drink too, just like the rest of us.

And have you seen how much drinks sweat in hell?

And Jon, no one brought up "indie cred" but you.

What, he's too good for one of these?

Also, just to share and not derail, in my manly pursebag:

- Canon Powershot A70 Camera (with extra batteries, no cord);
- Two notebooks, one spiralbound for songs and general jotting-down of shit, the other a smaller moleskine-type thing I use for novel ideas;
- Where Dead Voices Gather by Nick Tosches, which I'm a little past halfway through and am digging quite nicely;
- A cassette tape with last week's audio round of trivia on it (category: "Star" Power: Ringo Starr, Kay Starr, Starland Vocal Band, Ziggy Stardust, We're Stars by Hear'n Aid, etc.);
- An I [heart] ERNIE hat from the Borgnine Festival Vidiot & I went to last month (I have no idea why that's there, but there you go);
- Assorted bills, many of them paid; and
- A tube of Krazy Glue (your guess is as good as mine).

If the devil wants to drink, he already has SoHo. What more does he want?

(I meant to imply that the Devil, not Vidiot, was snubbing the beer hat.)

Dana: Yes. The Dark Lord might not be a redneck.

vidiot: I was kidding around. self-effacement and all that shit.

Far be it from me to disparage the Beer Bong Helmet.

(and no worries, Jon. Just saying, is all.)

That reminds me. I have a hat for one of you, I just don't know which one.

Remember when my closet fell down? In among the stripper costumes, I found a cap with a picture of a monkey on it, and the brim is personally autographed by Penn & Teller.

I have a vague memory that my sister's first husband, her practice husband, who used to make people fly, got this hat from Penn & Teller and gave it to one of my kids who was too young to appreciate it and left it laying around until I put it in the closet. As fate would have it.

I have it sitting on my dresser now, with a mental note that says, give this to someone from 9622.

Who? Any Penn & Teller fans among us?

Wow. I'm a Penn & Teller fan, but if it's autographed it's too cool to wear.

eBay, perhaps?

E-Bay? What fun is that? I like to give things to people I love.

OMG A PENN AND TELLER HAT?

*prostrates self, genuflects, cartwheels*

Hey, maybe I need some sort of ass shout-outs for this treasure!

*getting greedy*

Ass shoutout, as requested.

If it's got Penn and Teller's autograph it's most likely not just any monkey. It's Mofo, their psychic monkey.

No bag, but here's what's in my coat pockets:

- iPod w/Monster FM transmitter & charger
- Olympus Camedia camera & 2 extra batteries
- house keys
- car keys
- sunglasses
- 4 tickets to upcoming Paul Westerberg show
- receipt for same
- $22.36 (mostly in singles. Looks like I robbed a stripper.)
- electronic security card for work
- pen
- Burt's Bees lip balm
- receipt from latest haircut
- little plastic Guinness bottle opener
- Umbra card case (in red), containing: driver's license, ATM card, credit card, library card, coffee shop & restaurant punch cards, biz card for my orthopaedic doc and a biz card from the pro shop at the local ice rink
- 1 English penny
- 1 Czech Koruna
- lip gloss
- Jump drive

Gawd. No wonder my coat weighs 10 pounds. Leather jackets are good for holding the stuff.

In other news: My cast came off today -- a week earlier than expected. My wrist is free!!

Oh, sure, it's not terribly flexible at the moment. but it's no longer imprisoned in a fiberglass shell.

Aine, that's great news about the cast coming off early - liberation is a wonderful thing.

- 4 tickets to upcoming Paul Westerberg show

I hate you.

I just switched bags, so there isn't as much weird stuff in there as there once was, but:
-several key rings with assorted keys, handy in case of ninja attacks.
-a pen, handy for emergency tracheotomies.
-groovy orange wallet with usual wallet stuff (no condoms though; only 48% slutty)
-lots and lots of ibuprofen.
-a collection of arcane diagrams for plumbing, electrical and carpentry jobs and random lists of things to get from the hardware store, which I no longer need but seem unable to part with.
-Russell Hoban's 'Angelica's Grotto', with a cover that makes me a blush when reading in public.
-Burt's Bees hand salve.
-tissues and allergy pills.
-Swiss army knife.
-agenda with scary fluffy kitten on the cover.
-bungee cords.

Sorry, Jon. He's s'pose to add more April dates. Maybe he'll add NYC.

Slack-a-go-go, you are right! The hat in question says "MOFO KNOWS" across the crown.

And Vidiot, nice ass.

wow. has anyone seen today's wsj? there's a front page article on the art of yelling "freebird!" at concerts.

really.

Happy St. Paddy's Day, ye feckin' apes!
Anyone care to join me for a wee dram after work?

Paul Westerberg is fine, but Dead Can Dance tickets go on sale this weekend. Yip!

I cannot imagine my esteemed colleague from the East, Senator MC, being forced to sit through a Dead Can Dance show.

I am unfamiliar with the work of Mr. Can Dance, but I'll take your word for it. Although heavy sedation and strong rope would probably do the trick.

well, jon, murphy's law is playing at the continental, if you want to go.

With my back pain, I'm in no shape to slam around, even though I'll probably be in that neighborhood. But thanks for the invite.

Murphy's Law? Tonight? whoa.

I saw them in 1999 in Ithaca. Great show, and Jimmy was hilarious.

And I would loooove to see Mr. MC at a Dead Can Dance show. Heck, I'd buy tickets to that, and I doubt I'd get tickets to Dead Can Dance.

On the other hand, my Elvis Costello tickets arrived in the mail the other day. RAWK!

come, oh vidiot, come!

i heart murphy's law. have been seeing them since i was 14. jimmy is a funny mofo.

No bands for me tonight, but we've still got hockey, so that's where I'll be.

I'll raise one for you monkeys.

And throw in another who'd pay to see Jon at a Dead Can Dance show.

My primary briefcase is pretty empty, compared to you all's...

Main Pocket:
-laptop (Dell Latitude "Smokin' C800") with extra battery (dead);
-click umbrella ("London Fog", swag but nice)
-glasses case ("Lenscrafters", black, velcro closure)
-cheapass digicam and connecto-cord (a Concord "Eye-Q" Mini)
-emergency backup lunch (two breakfast bars, "banana bread" and "cinnamon", and five Jolly Ranchers - three apple, one watermelon, one "blue", not sure what that is but I'm fairly certain it ain't blueberry)

File pocket
-Files: "Current," "Vegas," "Outgoing Info" and "Intranet Ref."
-Latest "Smarthome" catalog, printed off from pdf in black and white and bound with comb binding
-latest expense check ("$545.75")

Side pocket:
-David Liss' "A Spectacle of Corruption" (historical fiction set in 1700's London)

Crap pocket
-two pens (corporate issue, blue and gold, twist barrell, black ink, nice)
-two AAA size batteries (could be dead, could be new, very mysterious)
-business cards (three, mine, wrinkled, been there a while)
-toothbrush (new, in case, leftover from dentist visit two weeks ago)
-half-gallon size ziploc bag (empty, not sure why I had this)

I have an invite to some swanky art gala tonight and am trying really hard to pull together the energy to clean myself up and head out. Sad to say but I literaly can't remember the last time I got dressed up to go out... unless it was when my friend and I got kitted up like debutants and went bowling, months ago.

Currently in my briefcase (actually, a black Levenger Messengerbag/laptop case from their old Airpacks line):
-Current "Entertainment Weekly" Magazine
-Current "New Yorker" Magazine
-Current "Mental_Floss" Magazine
-"God's Politics" by Jim Wallis (Just started)
-"How We Are Hungry" by Dave Eggers (read first two stories, got bored with it.)
-Empty water bottle
-Cough drops (persistant nagging cough for three weeks now...ick.)
-Small Mead Five Star Notebook: the cool new ones with the fabric around the spiral rings (for notes on above reading material)
-Loan Book for Car payments (five more payments and that bitch is MINE!)
-Checkbook (unbalanced...like me.)
-iPod full of "This American Life" and Broadway musicals
-extra headphones
-iTrip
-Pens: One "Old School"-type Bic pen (to give away), One Sanford Liquid Expresso (not bad for a felt-tip, but the ink can be spotty), One Bic Z4, One Pentel Sunburst Gel Fine (I hate fine tips, but this one isn't so bad), Two Uniball Fusions (with the cool "clear" ink), One Pilot Razor Point (Great cheap pen), 3 Sharpies (One Mini-Fine Point on a key chain!!, One Metallic Silver (Store tip down!), One Ultra Fine Point (for writing on CDS), One Caran d'Ache 849 Ballpoint, One Montblanc from an old girlfriend I'm not supposed to think about every time I use it, but I do.
-Two Dixon-Ticonderoga "My First Pencil"s.
-One small photo album containing only pictures of my 8 month old little girl.
-Levenger Pocket Briefcase
-Three packs of 3x5 cards: One blank, one yellow and lined horizontally, and THE HOLY GRAIL: one pack of VERTICALLY lined Oxford 3x5s.
-Extra Laptop mouse
-iBook G4
-Pump for the bag's shoulder strap
-Folder from yesterday's seminar: "Staying Abreast of Electronic Filing & Security Issues in the Funeral Service Industry" (zzzzZZZZzzzz)
-Peanut M&Ms
-Bill from "Utne" Magazine (I'm not renewing)
-Oooh. Found more pens! One Pilot Spotliter Supreme (Pink), Two Uniball Gel Grips, One Uniball Vision (Blue)
-Paperclips
-And one free giveaway from the seminar: Compliments of the Dodge Company, small ziploc bag containing four Multi-closure buttons ("The Clear and Only Choice": Use it to close 1. Trocar Incisions 2. Hypodermic Incisions 3. IV Punctures) and one four-inch long clear A/V Closure ("Close ALL Orifices[sic]" Use it to close 1. A nal Orifices 2. Vaginal Orifices 3. Colostomy Openings)

This last item looks like a long, clear screw that's ribbed, apparently not for pleasure.

Do I win?

Hey! How come "AY-Nul" was questionable, but Vaginal wasn't?! Discrimination!

And, despite the volume of crap in it, my bag is not all that heavy.

Oh, and a pack of Ronald Reagan Stamps.

I was just out drinking with a British guy and a dude from Australia. They bought a few rounds then took me to their hostel. They told me not to speak there, since my accent eould give me away as a non-guest. They wanted me to take them to CBGB's but I figured pips would be worried about me, so I went home.

I just heard The Who's "I'm Free," in a fucking Saab commercial. Depressing.

What the fuck, ColdChef? How many pens does one dude need?? I don't have that many in my entire desk. Even if I had two desks.

They bought a few rounds then took me to their hostel.

Oh, boy :)

I have several hundred pens at home to choose from.

I have a problem.

I also have a crazy, out-of-control collection of abandoned pens in my place. There are pens everywhere - I have no idea why I keep buying them. Sharpies, bics, highlighters, papermates, and markers - I just can't stop. I've slowed down now that I mostly use a cheap Cross pen - but I'm ready for the great pen shortage to hit. Based on my pen addiction, I'm really glad I've never tried crack.

And at the risk of sounding like an even bigger nerd for even caring: Coldchef - where the hell did you find vertically lined 3x5 cards?!? I didn't even know such a thing existed.

AhHA! The greatest question of our time. Vertical lined 3x5s.

Levenger and Cranes make RIDICULOUSLY expensive vertically lined cards to put in their pocket briefcases, and they're nice and all personalized and crap, but not really worth it for the work I do. I need something that's about a penny a piece.

Well, I looked everywhere for other vertically lined cards and I couldn't find them anywhere. For some reason, nobody made them. Even though, if you're using the cards to take notes, vertical RULZ horizontal (don't believe me? Try it!) I found a printer locally that would make them for me, but they couldn't understand why it was important for me for the cards to actually be CARDSTOCK (hello?) and it was going to be expensive, so I just gave it up.

So, a few weeks ago, I was in the LSU college bookstore and I found the vertically lined cards (glued together to make a pad, but easy to pull off) and I bought all the store had (at $2.50 a piece, more than twice what I wanted to pay, but...

After I found out who made them (Oxford), I tried to buy them straight from the company...no deal. So, I hopped on to Froogle.com and found a college bookstore in Ohio that had the cards for $1.09 for a pack of a hundred and low shipping rates, so I bought everything they had.

If I use at least one or two cards a day, I should run out in about 10 or 12 years. By that time, I will have hopefully found a new distributor.

Here's where I found them, by the way.

If anyone knows of a cheaper supplier, let me know.

Vidiot, this review of Elvis Costello at SXSW makes me want to kick you in the shins for having tickets. Except for the tofu keychain, which absolves you.

Wow, I remember reading about the anal screws in Stiff. I wish I had some to carry around in my bag, just because it would be more fun to have one of those fly out onto the counter while I'm scrounging for change (rather than a tampon, which seems to materialize only when I don't need it).

Thanks for the link, Tizzie! The two times I've seen Elvis in concert, he was downright electrifying both times.

I hope it's the kind of performance that'll make you want to be on your feet all night. Because the only tickets I was able to get were standing-room ones.

Tell Elvis that Bonnie Bramlett says hello. ;)

Pfui.

Elvis has more talent in his left little finger than Bonnie Bramlett ever did.

(And I actually don't mind D&B.)

True.

But Bonnie has a better hook to the jaw.

for the 91-92 season, Bonnie found herself in a recurring role in the #1 rated television show in the nation, Roseanne

I think I may be in love!

Bonnie's lovely and more than a little talented. But I'm with Vidiot on this one. McManus is on his own level.

And Dana, I now know what I'm getting you for Christmas.

Oh, I agree on Elvis superior talent, (although I'm a Delaney & Bonnie fan as well). I'm just amazed at how many people have forgotten about the infamous incident of their meeting.

Maybe they could do a duet. Perhaps the B-side would be a duet between Jayne County and Handsome Dick Manitoba. Proceeds to be split between Stop The Violence and The Golden Gloves.

Yeah, I wonder if Elvis has ever come back to Columbus. (Though he probably doesn't stay at Holiday Inns anymore.)

Vaginal screws for everyone!

Man, it sucks when you're internet activity goes from 6 hours a day to like 6 hours a month. But screw it, I'm doing an overnight for a cat* and they told me I could use their comp. Suckers.

So, to catch up on what I've read off and on here lately:

I'm 39% slut.

Swap CD's will go out soonish. Like, hopefully I'll write down addys tonight and ship 'em off early next week.

Oh, and I have no murse/briefcase (now that I'm not in an office job) but currently in my pockets are:

- the wallet I've had since roughly 1992, complete with my Sierra Club member card, library card, and two dollars, amongst other things
- keys to my car, apt., mailbox, and parents house
- also keys to house I'm sleeping in tonight and house that I have to go let dogs out of in the morning, which is roughly three blocks or a bottle of water and smoke from here
- six quarters, as I got out of paying for any games of pool earlier....w00t
- 14 cigarettes and 2 lighters
- one dogipotbaggie...for emergencies

and since my car is like a roadsack for me now, it also has:

- cd's by: Crooked Fingers (x2), DeVotchKa, the Business, aine42(mixy), Flogging Molly (for st. pat's), and, um, me (mixy)
- countless other dogipot bags and other receptacles for dogshit
- another lighter

No, I'm not going Billy Madison on you all...yet.

Oh and pertinent to other things, I haven't seen Murphy's Law in ~ 6 years either, but they're opening for the Rev. here in about six weeks and yes'm, I intend to go and slammy about.

*I'd say I'm kidding, but I'm not. A cat. Overnight. Like they even care if you're here or not.

An overnight sitter for a cat? Sheesh, Ufez, was the job of "taste testing at the liquor factory" already taken?

Speaking of w00t, I got a swap disc from ColdChef!!
*dancing*

Overnight cat sitter? Is this some kind of euphemism for something dirty? Like "shaking hands with abraham lincoln"?

I'm not even sure my cats would notice if there was no one here for a night. By day 2 they might notice the absence of the food lady and the lack of anyone for them to wake up in the middle of the night, but day 1? No way.

ufez -- does the cat you're sitting for wear a little crown?

OK, you apes, we've been through a lot together, right? Years. I love you all. And I am gonna tell you right now.

If I am ever in a persistent vegetative state, pull my fucking plug. SERIOUSLY. You're all younger than me, except Miguel, who's on hiatus, and I have no children who are able to do this.

NEVER, never, never let me become a pawn in a game with players like Tom Fucking DeLay, Bo Gritz, and Randall motherfucking Terry!

I cannot believe the travesty of injustice being played out in Florida over this poor woman's body. I think the fact that the only option is to starve her to death is barbaric and oh so ironic - a hideous cosmic joke. But dear god in heaven above, google this post and take it to court.

I, Anne Mitchell, being of sound mind and body, do not want my life prolonged by artificial or extraneous means ever, under any circumstances, no matter what god damn idiot is in the White House, and what his religion is, so help me god. Amen.

And in heaven I will get my own blog, I promise.

Sorry, I had to.

I'm with you on that one, sweetheart.

* pulls tizzie's plug *

* pulls her feeding tube too, because they're not the same thing, you know *

* reminds everyone to fill out a health care proxy, or whatever they're called in the state you live in *

By the way, admins, I had to delete a reference in that last comment along the lines of "or an @dvance care d1rective" because the posting script said "@dvance" and "d1rect" were questionable content.

If I am ever in a persistent vegetative state, pull my fucking plug.

Who knows, maybe a vegetative state is incredibly relaxing, like lying in bed drunk. I think I'd enjoy it.

Jon, I know you're just being funny, but I don't think having your entire skull filled with nothing but spinal fluid could feel like much of anything, not to mention "incredibly relaxing". I don't profess to know where the soul resides, but I'm certain that if you were in that situation I would say that the body before me was not Jon, and that he were elsewhere.

/has a good friend currently in the hospital in a coma; masive head injuries from a car accident.
//no, he wasn't drunk.

Jon, I know you're just being funny,

No disrespect to your freind, commish, but I was only half being funny. On a certain level acheiving complete oblivion while still remaining alive holds appeal. But, of course, I haven't been there, so I don't really know.

I guess it depends on the definition of "alive". I don't think oblivion on the Schiavo level is, and thats what I meant when I said that if you (or anyone I knew) were in that state I wouldn't consider them alive any more.

On the other hand (and to lighten up the conversation a bit) my friend did "wake up" a bit today for the first time in four days - his first words were to his dear mother, sitting lovingly by his bedside, as follows: "Get me OUT of here, you FUCK!"

We're not really sure what to make of that.

May I just say, in case anyone out there is keeping score, that last night's Saturday Night Live opening monologue (dialogue?) with Ashton Kutchner and Demi Moore was just about the funniest thing I've seen on the TV in ages.

ColdChef - Was it all that braindead coma talk above that reminded you of Ashton Kutchner?

I don't have a bag, man-purse or backpack. There's nothing in my pockets.

I need more stuff.

Overnight cat sitter? Is this some kind of euphemism for something dirty? Like "shaking hands with abraham lincoln"?

Oh. Oh dear. *bites tongue really hard*

I'm always thinking of the "Kutch".

"What's in my bag" reminds me of the hippie saying; What's your bag?
Think someone would be dumb enough photographing their drugs?
Oh! ..“what’s in my bag?” groceries

I'm not exactly sure what it means, but I just heard from my father, saying that he has recently come into possession of a brand new bag.

My father used to be a progressing rock of some kind. Whatever, just so long as he dosen't preach.

That's odd. I just asked my father if he was able to perceive my voice, visually recognize me, discover me in the evening time, if he was close to me physically, or if he could assist me in tempering my fears.

My father has expressed an intense appreciation for mambo. Likewise, my mother has also spoken of her esteem for mambo. They disdain the rhumba and the samba, preferring, as I noted, mambo. Especially this evening.

I've also expressed concern with my father's pedestrian speeding.

Every year, I request that, just this one yuletide season, Father does not become inebriated. And yet, every yuletide season, Father does become inebriated.

I will kill him one day.

Father, why have you forsaken my post?

Also, just incidentally, if any of you morally bankrupt reprobates have tried to email me in the last, say, 3 months or so, I won't have gotten it. Use the Gmail from now on.

Also, Father sang in a very low tibre, while Mother cried out in a somewhat higher register.

Timbre. I meant timbre.

You know, I've just posted 5 comments into the void. The void!

Well, kaf, mother was recently informed that we are all currently insane. But she did say there'd be day's like this.

But Jon, it's okay. Because my mother urged me to eschew social gatherings of this sort. She informed me that our present activities are not the optimal pursuits in the recreational or entertainment arenas.

At more or less the same time, my mother also saw fit to instruct me not to cast my gaze upwards, toward the zenith, and look upon Sol, the closest star to Terra (at approximately 93 million miles or one astronomical unit (1 AU) from our current position.) I replied that the truly top-notch divertissements and merriment could be found there, however.

Yes, but Mother was advised not to allow her offspring to pursue cattle-herd maintenance as a career, and advised to encourage them at law or medicine.

But a hirsuite Englishman with an apetite for the craniums of winged rodents, has served mother notice that he's returning to his primary domicile.

Looking at the recent comments, who stole my bag?

My father, who disdained the settled life, considered any place he reclined as his primary domicile.
Sadly, when he passed away, our only inheritance was his permanent absence.

Is it true, towerbrave, that during that brief interlude where he set aside his chapeau, not by custom but by chance, would become his dwelling?

Mother has an accordion, and father is an insomniac.

well, mother, I am most impressed by your command of motion, but I'd highly desire seeing you perspire and contemplate.

However, I'm also pleased by your pelvic gyrations, I'd like you to combust and perform welt-inducing bites.

I'm also curious about mother's position on the impending nuclear holocaust, and also whether people will enjoy this musical composition.

Alas, I fear my tale is more forlorn than any of yours, for, you see, while my mother delivered me in the usual manner, she was absent from my life to such a degree that she did not know my true nature. Even though I desired a bond with her, she did not reciprocate in kind; accordingly, I was compelled to bid her adieu.

Similarly, my father abandoned me at an early age, although I did not depart from him in any like fashion. I fully required his presence in my life, but he had no such requirement of me; therefore, I was likewise obliged to offer him my farewells.

These parallel occurrences in my youth have led me to the inescapable conclusion that one should not allow their offspring to emulate me or follow in my (metaphorical) footsteps, for I attempted to move at a sprightly gait before I could properly perambulate.

This realization led to quite a bit of yelling and screaming on my part, let me tell you.

Mother apparently was adept in the black arts, and was barbecued while still cognizant. A consort of Beelzebub, but was I seen to weep?

Mother experienced partruition during an anomalous mega-weather pattern improbably constituted of gunfire exchanged by participants in a heated battle. I ululated at her amidst the incessant downpour, but now everything is copacetic.

I should have mentioned that I am Bounding John Scintillation; it's an effluvium, miasma, vapor.

Well, your mother eschews terpischore and your father disdains rhythm & blues based popular music.

The past twenty or so comments left me more confused than enlightened, but it's all worth it for jonmc's comment above which killed! It's like a Loggins and Messina dada hootenany - but less obvious. And I leanred another word (terpsichore) that I'll most likely never have a practical need for.

Sweet Mother of Pearl!!! As I hit post above I suddenly realized the concept in those previously confusing as hell non-sequiter posts. I love this place.

Eschewing terpischore never leads to good things. [See Also 'Footlose']

[See Also 'Footlose']

That should be a footnote on just about everything. Especially long, complex presentations at your place of employment. After the graphs and visual aids, when you've stunned your coworkers and CEO with your concise analysis of just what problems face SPUMCO in the twenty-first century, say quietly "See also "Footloose".

It's not a bad idea to hum a little of that crazy guitar riff and mumble "everybody cut, everybody cut." You may get the entire accounting department to chime in, singalong style.

Before you know it, you're dancing on that table with Geoff the sys admin, teaching your coworkers how to love again, like it was the very first time.

My mother has been becoming more childlike over the years, which has not significantly improved our ability to communicate. She believes in ghosts and ghostly things and all things ghost-like and mean. When she was growing up she often had to sleep on the haunted bed, which none of her older sisters would sleep on, because it would vibrate and shake at night. For her the spirits were only there to scare, and it makes me sad she never tried to speak with them. They might have listened more than I once did.

Doesn't anybody have a nice crucifixion .jpg to post in a new thread? C'mon! Get with the season!

Marmots!

Kelp!

Industrial espionage!

Smackle!

Olive pits!

Blurf!

Mucilage!

Waterpick!

Otis!

My Man!

Do you all mind if we dance with your dates?

Mastodon!

Buh-buh-buh-foosh!

Ikki ikki ikki, p'tang zoopshah biscuit-barrel!

Now you're just being silly.

Right! This has gone too far!

Don't make me close this blog...

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