Seriously thinking about getting back into luxury bird bath design. Full time, high quality, no bullshit bird bath design for the family or discerning bachelor.
Today marks the 36th anniversary of the File Cabinet rebellion. 36 years ago, File Cabinets across the land said, "Enough." They had loyally held humanity's papers, files, and documents for over a century at that point, but they could see where things were headed with the arrival of affordable computers. The File Cabinets knew that millions of the documents in their drawers would soon be digitized. Then the humans would begin storing other, less savory items inside them. Soon enough their once spotless, organized interiors would house heads of rotting cabbage, chunks of old mattresses, bricks from the Alamo and piles of dead spiders. Their rebellion began quietly. During the night they rallied and took control of their floor's electric supply. Then entire buildings. A few daring File...
In a few minutes, all of the sitcom characters will be able to hear the uproarious laughter of the studio audience. Once I activate this mechanism, there's no going back. It cannot be reversed. I will be unreachable and anyway do not have the means to make them un-hear the laughter. And hear it they will. Forever and always. Haunting them everywhere they go. After the slightest movement or misstep. After every phrase and put down they utter. Unlike the rest of humanity, they will know with certainty that they are not alone in the universe. They will not be able to reason with this invisible laughing god but they will certainly feel him and his wicked chorus. It will surely drive the weaker ones mad. They will realize they exist not for themselves, that the situations that hold such...
It is an old question, isn't it -- whether individual citizens can be blamed for their apathy and ignorance, or whether they really are simply products of a deeply corrupted and dysfunctional system?
How could a corrupt and dysfunctional system create something as wonderful as the Steak-Based Credit Card?
(That's the credit card only for buying steaks, paying for them with steaks, comes as part of a kit with steaks and smells like steak.)
(And is made of steak.)
Rough night. Woke up covered in Night Leeches. They swarm this time of year. The leeches attach themselves to any bare skin but they prefer the back of the neck, if available. Through the night they suck out good dreams and leave your mind filled with thoughts of sour janitor lockers and unturned welcome mats.
But they do have medical applications. I understand Night Leeches are used extensively in the treatment of severe mental psychosis and rampant limb twitching. So I collected them in a jar, put in a few childhood photos for them to feed on and set them on the window sill.
Selling the Night Leeches internationally online, I’d make a lot of money if they weren’t figments of my imagination.
We all deal with disappointment in different ways. Some of us hold nothing back and begin strangling cats within moments of the initial disaster. Others are more restrained choosing instead to pursue long-term poisoning of their opponent as proper expression of their rage. Faced recently with humiliating, public defeat, I've refocused on my goals and sought out alternative paths to take. More than a few involve long stints operating my own highway Waffle House in central Indiana. Just as many require going by the name Alan Rodriguez while doing so. Not wanting to spend the money on change of address labels (and new book plates, for that matter) I've begun to question my goals. Why should a man desire to design his own activity placemat? Why not be happy with the thousands the world has...