HAUL ASS, LANCE!!!

If I had a horse, I would ride it to work every day. I would get it special shoes and be aware of the frog. I don’t have a horse though, so I may just start riding the bike and give the baby Jeep (aka short bus) a rest. I tested the commute Friday night and it was only 20 minutes or so to get to the downtown office…not bad. Sweat is a whole different issue though.

I like that kids start smoking at 13 to the 1st power. It’s provacative. That item was handed to me by Steve-O while at Padriac’s last Saturday for drinks to celebrate Kyle’s birthday. Like most things, it’s probably funnier in my head.

Listening to:

Lance is back in the yellow, baby. Bring on the mountains, think happy thoughts and anticipate history!

Inspired by those who do more with less and compelled by insanity, I’ll be running another 5k this Saturday morning…giddy up.

Tech complaint for the day: I don’t like the way Google summarizes my site since I’ve converted to Blogger.

Most importantly, don’t forget to vote today, fellow Atlantans!

Two things I don’t like about the newer model BB’s:

~ Keyboard shift - the keyboard on the older models was exactly that of a standard keyboard. For some reason on the newer ones they moved the number keys off the top row and lumped them on the left. Keyboard redesign blows.

~ The screen also makes the device top-heavy (and not in a way most of us like, nudge-nudge-wink-wink) so I’m considering getting some lead adhesive strips to put on the back to balance the weight for ease of typing. Of course then it probably won’t fit in its cute leather case, but whatever.

Next is this great yellow band a friend gave me - read more about it here .

Lastly is a great bar trick a very punchy and overly clever man showed me last night where you turn the lid of an empty box of cigarettes into a “football” jersey. Kinda coo’.

I leisurely ingest my grande mocha, and I bring it to my lips after it’s been resting for 45 minutes or so, and I find there is some nasty shit happening in that psudeo insulated bleached paper container. My beverage is all coagulated and bits of ~something~ slip through the drinky hole, land on the surface of my official tasting mechanism and prompt a near gag reflex.

I’ve encountered a few people recently that I find equally wretched and somewhat toxic. 

You hope for the best from mankind and you try to see the good. You embrace others with your own open hearted enthusiasm and voiced observations of the traits you admire. This, you think, is encouraging them to exhibit more of the same, to press their positive energy out into the universe and passively but proactively help extract evil from society. Besides, it’s good karma for your to be kind to others and help them help themselves towards the greater good. But still you flinch when you catch glimpses of the bad parts. You hope it was your imagination or an isolated incident brought on by a neurological mishap or acid rain or a herd of lemmings crashing to the earth and upsetting the basics of nature that keep us here, but just the same you begin to withdrawal.  

Like the mocha, time passed reveals the true ingredients and peering in, your eyes train on the shady contents. The goo at the bottom of the cup, once sweet, is now repulsive. The lid is dirty, you’re not even sure you want to put your lips back on it. “Its, ok” you say to your mental hostess. “I’m done”.

So far so good, with the exception of the fact that I spent too much time slowly copying and pasting from my old site into this handy-dandy webform deal and somehow a few months just up and disappeared on me. 
 
So I’ve got that goin’ for me, which is nice.
 
I’ll get back to you with some real content as soon as I figure out what little gremlin ate my blog. (think “the dingo stole my baby!” vs “the gremlins ate my blog!”) 
  
On a loosly related note, everytime some jackass sends me a virus Thunderbird and my virus detection sw get in a pissing contest and Thunderbird gets its ass kicked.  No, I don’t view via preview pane, no I don’t open the message.  All it has to do is hit my inbox and the bitch-slapping begins.  Thunderbird becomes unresponsive, I close, I reopen and is there ANYTHING in my inbox?  Nope.  Good bye history.
 
Well, that’s one way of cleaning out your closets.
 

So far so good, with the exception of the fact that I spent too much time slowly copying and pasting from my old site into this handy-dandy webform deal and somehow a few months just up and disappeared on me. 
 
So I’ve got that goin’ for me, which is nice.
 
I’ll get back to you with some real content as soon as I figure out what little gremlin ate my blog. (think “the dingo stole my baby!” vs “the gremlins ate my blog!”) 
  
On a loosly related note, everytime some jackass sends me a virus Thunderbird and my virus detection sw get in a pissing contest and Thunderbird gets its ass kicked.  No, I don’t view via preview pane, no I don’t open the message.  All it has to do is hit my inbox and the bitch-slapping begins.  Thunderbird becomes unresponsive, I close, I reopen and is there ANYTHING in my inbox?  Nope.  Good bye history.
 
Well, that’s one way of cleaning out your closets.
 

So far so good, with the exception of the fact that I spent too much time slowly copying and pasting from my old site into this handy-dandy webform deal and somehow a few months just up and disappeared on me. 
 
So I’ve got that goin’ for me, which is nice.
 
I’ll get back to you with some real content as soon as I figure out what little gremlin ate my blog. (think “the dingo stole my baby!” vs “the gremlins ate my blog!”) 
  
On a loosly related note, everytime some jackass sends me a virus Thunderbird and my virus detection sw get in a pissing contest and Thunderbird gets its ass kicked.  No, I don’t view via preview pane, no I don’t open the message.  All it has to do is hit my inbox and the bitch-slapping begins.  Thunderbird becomes unresponsive, I close, I reopen and is there ANYTHING in my inbox?  Nope.  Good bye history.
 
Well, that’s one way of cleaning out your closets.