It’s Friday, You ain’t got nothing to do..

You know, it’s true, look long enough, and you can find anything you heart desires on the internet. I’m not just talking car parts, porn, and cheap airline tickets either. For instance, I’ve been deeply searching my soul for an answer to a burning question that cuts to the core of my being.

Drew Barrymore, or Liv Tyler?

I mean, ever since the days of “Firestarter” I though Drew was cute (Oh stop it, she’s two years older then me, so yeah, in Firestarter she was like 8, but I was like six, so it’s not a perverted thing… sheesh). Not to mention that whole her growing up into a complete freak and then posing in Playboy (I think that issue is still at my dads someplace.. hmmrmmmmm).. anyway…

But then Liv came along… I donno, first it was her and Alicia Silverstone in the “Crazy” video… then she looked all sweet and cute in Armageddon… Then she played some crazy whacked out psycho she-bitch from hell named Jewel in that McCools movie… (a performance I can forgive, cause you know, there was sexins in that there movie…) But then there’s this whole Liv playing elven chick in the Lord Of The Rings series… rowr. So obviously, the guys in the audience here can understand my delima….

Well, after searching for months and months, I think I have the perfect solution to the question, Drew, or Liv… The answer my friends is easy, once you realize it’s an option:


That’s it. Problem Solved, I’m done. I can die a happy guy now.

So Long, Oolong.

Okay, eons ago I stumbled across a link to Oolong, also known as the Pancake Rabbit, for obvious reasons. The entire site was, well, cute. And for some reason I liked it. I mean, it was just a collection of photos that this guy took of his pet, but it was cute.


Oolong died today. (Hover over the pictures for english captions).

I think I’ll go mourn in solitude for a while.. then maybe buy myself a wabbit.

Last Night, On Fox

So last night was the premier of “Joe Millionaire”… yippie. I tried to watch it, really I did.. I lasted about 8 minutes into it before going back onto the computer to work on a project instead. The concept behind the show, for those of you who’ve been living under a rock, is simple: 20 girls fight over one bachelor dude who’s just inheritied $50Million in cash… of course, once he whittles the contestents down to just one girl, he has to tell her the truth.. the fifty G’s is a scam put on by Fox, atleast, that’s the secret as Fox has protrayed it so far. Some others out on the net seem to believe there’s something else up.

Now think about this.. 20 women…. slowly over the weeks there is only one left.. she’s involved with this guy, they fall madly in love… and oh yeah, there’s that little secret he’s got to tell her… Am I the only one who sees this ending badly for some reason? Tiff was the first to scream ‘Lawsuit!’… and although I’m sure Fox has more then enough slimy lawyers to cover their ass seven ways to Sunday, I’m not so sure Tiff isn’t onto something. Somebody (probably many somebody’s) will be plenty-o-pissed when all this hits the fan… Which it already has in real life remember, yet nobody’s gone public and bitched? Hmm.. I smell something fishy. I predict it ends up coming out the entire thing is one big scam, not on the 20 ladies, but on the people silly enough to think that Fox would air anything ‘REAL’ in the first place.

Anyway, this morning I hit the net and find Mr. Millionaire in his undies, which just seems to add even more fun to this entire twisted situation. I post this link for the ladies…

Shesh, yesterday was human on horse action, today it’s the usual tastelessness from Fox Broadcasting. The very same idiots who cancelled my lovely Dark Angel to replace it with that crap-fest Firefly.. Blargh, what is the world coming to.

Just a note…

I was sitting here this morning, putting together some nice little LTB graphics to stick up there in the upperleft corner of the screen, and believe me I now know how dangerous it is to put the phrase “lick the balls” into a google image search and turn off their filtering. Jeezus.

If I see one more image of human on horse action, I think I’ll puke.

And here I was worried that I was a sicko.


Another monday morning… glorious wonderous Monday morning…

No amount of caffienne seems to wake me from my weekend slumber. No amount of Digitally Imported hard house can rattle my brain into functioning. Nothing at all seems to help.

The weekend was fairly good, went out drinking and playing pool with Tiff, my cousin, and an old friend Saturday night, and all was good. Did find out some interesting gossip regarding an old… acquantince, but here is not the place nor time to spread some gossipy rumors, so I’ll keep them to myself for now. But other then that small amount of old-school drama, the night was fairly quiet and relaxed… all in all a good time.

The rest of the weekend was pretty much filled with Spinter Cell, Dead to Rights, and OZ. Have to make a mental note to go buy the second season now.. there’s just something about that series that I liked.. maybe because it wasn’t all flowers and niceness… maybe it was the fact it was mean, and rough, and people got whacked.. who knows, maybe I’m just a sick, sick man.

Still playing with the site here a bit, I’m still not entirely sure I like the layout just yet, so expect some moderate changes over the next few weeks as I find something I like… also need to add some of the other great folks I know to the links section… they’ll slowly take shape.

Also, on a totally bizarre and unrelated note. I was over at Dean’s and saw this entry on strangeness on Baltimore Roads and sure enough, I’d seen them on one of my trips up to NY… I remember vaguely noticing this strange little sign looking thing embedded in the street, but didn’t think much more of it after that, since I was hurrying by to get someplace, for something. Anyway, apparently these little buggers appear around downtown Baltimore as well. Interesting.. very interesting.

Welcome Back My Friends

“Welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends.
We’re so glad you could attend, come inside, come inside.”

So here we are once again. So many times in the last 3 years have I started a new website just for myself, always with the above lyrics, always stolen shamelessly from Emerson, Lake and Palmer.

Somehow of course every time it never felt right. Never felt like home, not since my original site was turned into a community project and became home to a collection of misfit souls besides myself, have I had a place that felt entirely right for me and me alone.

“There behind a glass is a real blade of grass, be careful as you pass.
Move alone! Move Along!”

I tried having my own little place as a subset of the community site, and it sat there for over a year, dank and untouched except some (then) pretty graphics. I just couldn’t get into it. I decided maybe what I needed was something bigger… so my place was reborn once again, but this time it turned into nothing more then an online photo gallery. I just wasn’t inspired by the idea of “My Place” anymore. I mean, what fun is that? Where’s the heart and soul that made having my own little place to discuess whatever I wanted fun long before all these other thousands of people decided blogging was the next big thing?

“Come inside, the show’s about to start, guaranteed to blow your head apart.
Rest assured you’ll get your money’s worth, The greatest show in Heaven, Hell or Earth.”

So last night I’m working on little coding project for my love’s site which caused me to need to install MoveableType for her. After playing around with it for a few moments, I start to think “You know, PHPNuke is really overkill for my own little site…. maybe MT is what I need.” And a moment later I decide that no, the problem isn’t the software I was using, it was the site itself. When my place was just a little part of a larger site, it was just that, part of something bigger. It wasn’t me. I needed a site all to myself, that felt like home, and more importantly, that was me.

“You’ve got to see the show, it’s a dynamo.
You’ve got to see the show, it’s rock and roll…”

So after a quick round of whois checks, I discovered a domain name I could have all to my self, to mold and shape into exactly what I wanted… and a domain that, lets face it…. just screams “Yeah Baby!!” at the top of it’s lungs. And so to you, my friends, my family, and of course, strangers who wander in that I don’t know at all, I can only welcome you to:


Oh yes, what fun we shall have.

“Performing on a stool, we’ve a sight to make you drool,
Seven virgins and a mule. Keep it Cool. Keep it Cool.
We would like it to be know the exhibits that were shown,
were exclusively our own, All our own, All our own.”

Getting Rid of Jehovah’s Witnesses

This update was copied over from my entries on E2 for preservation and protection from the vile hordes of egotistical people who seem to rule there these days.

The following is a true story, the names have been changed to protect the innocent

‘Twas the morning after a fairly successful quakefest, a night filled with much fraggin, cursing, and consumption of carbonated soda beverages. It was about this time that an idea not unlike ‘Yummmmm Donuts‘ was crossing into all our minds, and we prepared to send two of our friends, brave souls indeed, out into the world to bring back some sugarcoated goodness for us all to eat.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, which would have surprised us, as it was about 8am in the morning.. except, this was a quake-fest! There had been people coming and going from the party all night… so one of the guys who was going out for donuts, who was, among all of us, the most strictly religious person at the party, was closest to the door, he went to open it, and as he did so, exclaimed at the top of his voice:

“Oh goody! My door-to-door porn with pepperoni is here!”

He opened the door to find a family of Shocked and horrified door to door religious people (denomination I know not, but for this writeup, sure, they were Jehovah’s Witnesses)… mom, dad, and little daughter too (whom was no older then 7)… my friend tried to explain: “I’m soo sorry, you see, there’s been a quake-party here all night, you know, playing computer games against one another, killing each other in the wee hours of the morning… I’m really a religious guy, really.. I am…“… somehow I don’t think they bought it.. 😉 But I don’t think they’ve ever been back to that apartment since.. 😉

I was supposed to be somebody by 23

This update was copied over from my entries on E2 for preservation and protection from the vile hordes of egotistical people who seem to rule there these days.

I remember when I was a wee little one, I had dreams of becoming a fireman, or a policeman. Then as I got wiser, I realized neither of these paid enough to justify the significant risk of personal injury or death due to someone else’s stupidity or anger management dysfunction. Now, at the ripe old age of 23, I sometimes wonder if there’s something missing in my life. Sometimes I think maybe that’s missing is that ‘love of my life‘ to spend time cuddling with. Other times of course I think my life could use some more money. Then at other times I just look in the mirror, start thinking of that childhood dream, and how I wanted so much to help others, which of course causes me to get nasty with myself, and ask “What Do You Want ? A Cookie ?

Hey, Stop Distracting Me By Rubbing Lotion On Your Legs

This article was copied over from the my entries on E2 for preservation and protection from the vile hordes of egotistical people who seem to rule there these days.

It happens every so often, and I dread when it does, cause it pretty much blows my productivity for the day…

I’ll just be sitting here at the office, being a good little productive member of cubicle society, perhaps even going so far out on a limb as to node a few interesting tidbits of information, minding my own business in general… when suddenly, in the middle of an otherwise harmless ICQ message, a certain sexy female will drop in:

“I got distracted rubbing lotion on my legs.”
“Hey! Stop that!”” I say back, knowing full well that my productivity has just fallen from the sky like a ton of bricks.
“you mean images of me dispensing small droplets of creamy white lotion into my hands and rubbing them up and down my silky delicious inner thighs bothers you??? *innocent
Comes back her reply..

Bothers?! Bothers? Hell No, how about “induces insane amounts of intense sexual desire.” I’m trying to work here people… messages like this does NOT make it easy.

Now I’m stuck here, at the office, full of strange old ladies and clueless bosses, trying hopelessly to remain productive, while thoughts and mental images of the smoothest, most sensual, most delectable,most desirable thighs I know rampage my now dazed and confused hormone infested mind.

I’ll get no more work done this day, this much is certain. All I can do is sit here and contemplate some way of getting even for a deed this foul.