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Blah for 2005.04


What movie am I more excited about than any silly Star Wars? One word: Serenity.

Now excuse me while I go change my underwear.


Here’s just a sample of what I’ve put together for my Burn It Spring 2005 group (,,,, and our leader

  • I’m just a white guy from the future, I’m completely out of touch.
  • I got my head checked, by a jumbo jet.
  • Everyone’s gonna be a big star, everyone’s gonna drive a fast car.
  • One flash’ll get you anything you want.
  • Please baby, please baby, please.
  • I’ll be the switch she turns on.
  • Ring dry the salty tears of sailors and their lovers.
  • See I woke up frail and perfect.
  • And everything just feels like rain.
  • Follow me, don’t follow me.
  • I’m just a fool waiting on the wrong block.
  • It’s raining stones, it’s raining bile.
  • Is it bright where you are, have the people changed?

I hope the group members will enjoy my selections (and especially enjoy them while driving), and that they help support their favorite artists as I do.

... Then again, maybe not. In fact, I’ve noticed a trend recently where my favorite artists either break up (1, 2, 3) or fade into obscurity (not that there’s really anything wrong with obscurity). Who knows, maybe it’s just my taste in music. I just hope I’m not a curse to my favorite artists.


It seems like every three days or some we’re talking about Las Vegas.
What’s this “we”?
OK, me.
Sure, we’ll go live in Las Vegas, and then in a few years, every three days, you’ll be talking about New York.
And then, when we’re living in New York, you’ll talk about San Fransisco every few days. Then, by the time we’re 60 and living in San Fransisco, you’ll talk about how much you miss South Florida, and we’ll wind up retiring back where we started from.
OK, just checking.


Ahhh yeahhhh! I am ready for Episode III.

Joe wearing new t-shirt.

(Hurry and get your own t-shirt.)


This morning was just one of those mornings. In fact it was one of these mornings:

  • I woke up with the same headache I went to bed with.
  • I woke up early with the alarm clock, turned it off thinking I was getting up, but then decided I needed just a minute more of rest... and woke up about half an hour later to my wife’s alarm.
  • I found out after I had gotten dressed (and was running too late to change) that the extra large shirt I purchased online (and now wanted to show off) was smaller and tighter than most extra large shirts.
  • I had to scrape with a knife to get the last mustard for my sandwich out of the bottle since there wasn’t enough left to squeeze out.
  • I realized only after I was already running really late that I still needed to get gas for my car.

Yup, it was one of those mornings.


By the way... did I mention that we already got our tickets to the midnight premiere of Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith? No? Well, now I did.


A comment from the other day during a discussion of trying to clean up some code in a badly designed and built web site:

It’s like trying to put lipstick on Frankenstein’s Monster... it’s not really going to make much of a difference.


There’s nothing like the prospect of guests coming over to create the impetus to clean.


Today I successfully invested half an hour of my time to discover that I couldn’t get a picture of today’s partial solar eclipse by placing an old telescope solar filter over my digital camera lens.

Partial solar eclipse as seen through a solar filter.

Aw &#!*@%!


In Memory

Photo of our parents’s beloved cat.

??? - April 6, 2005


Now that Google Maps also has satellite views, it makes you realize that the tops of big buildings are really boring. As technology advances, and satellite views become more popular, I think it would be cool for builders to put some decoration on the tops of their buildings. Maybe something like the Nazca Lines. Although, if this ever does happen, eventually the advertisers will step in and the only things we’ll see on the tops of buildings will be banner ads.


Wo-hoo! We won the lottery!...

Aw, fuck it... you can’t April Fool’s yourself.