Morning.
I sit here, slurping a 4-shot Americano, munching on a corned beef and onion sandwich, smearing my precious laptop with bits of oily onion and greasy salty sodium-laden "corned beef with no cereals" ejected gracelessly from my ever-moving piehole. And I'm wondering... "What shall I have for lunch?"
Oh, and also, "What do I do today?" I'm taking an official leave of absence this morning - woke up with Kura-Okami spitting pontoons of rain at my window. Nice day to sleep in, you'd think, except that the two boys are yowling and spitting and banging on the door with their clawed feet trying to disembowel each other. And yet, here they are, half an hour later, sleeping blissfully side by side on the sofa. Cats are nuts.
So I'm thinking that I should go register at a few job sites, get my job change plan going when I'm distracted by thoughts of visiting Mr Brown and his sometimes-wacky podcasts. And maybe I should go on a few unfinished quests in Oblivion... or download some mods... or think about lunch...
I either need more coffee, or I have the attention span of cat.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Virgin Mindfart
Whoa.
My first four-letter word on the Web! At least, the first that doesn't have anything to do with surveys or order forms...
Hey, if you're reading this, welcome to my little space. I've been thinking and comtemplating and brooding and angst-ing about blogging for years, but something, somehow kicked my butt off the sofa and pulled me by my coffee-stained un-pearly-whites to where I am now.
Confession: This blog, and my next few might be rather shakey. I have no clue where I'm going with this. I might turn it into a daily confessional diary, or I might start going off on a tangent about coffee, cats, Work (OMG, so much fodder there), relationships (the Wifey and the Father-in-Law)... you get the drift. Anyways, if you like what I'm doing, send me a note. If you don't, send me a note, but please be constructive. I have no patience for stupidity or intolerance, unless it's my own! 8-p
Thought for the day: Boy, am I fat. IMHO, I'm now closer than ever to resembling a charsiew pau on legs.[Charsiew pau: Red, sweetened BBQ pork bits in a fluffy white dough thing. Roughly oval shaped. For all you International readers]
Wifey though, is now more than ever, a babe. She spent some serious effort on getting slimmer and fitter. She went to the gym, joined a few mini-marathons and now, she's a beginner triathlete! She's tanned and fit, diametrically opposite me, corpulent slug couch potato hunched over a laptop. Being fit and staying fit is good for almost-middle aged folks like me - definitely don't want to be hobbling around suffering from heart-attacks when I reach 50. But like most unfit people, I'm just having trouble getting started. I'd rather spend my weekends vegging and drinking my personally-pulled espresso shots.
Wifey is starting to hang out with other triathletes from the local community, which is good, because she wants and needs guidance for training, and fitness supplies. Like her most recent acquisition - an Orbea bike - budget-class, but quite serviceable. She would have had a hard time finding it at that price if it weren't for helpful people in the local triathlete support club. She's out biking on 80 kilometer rides and training with buff Supermen.And I'm still a charsiew pau. (sigh)
My first four-letter word on the Web! At least, the first that doesn't have anything to do with surveys or order forms...
Hey, if you're reading this, welcome to my little space. I've been thinking and comtemplating and brooding and angst-ing about blogging for years, but something, somehow kicked my butt off the sofa and pulled me by my coffee-stained un-pearly-whites to where I am now.
Confession: This blog, and my next few might be rather shakey. I have no clue where I'm going with this. I might turn it into a daily confessional diary, or I might start going off on a tangent about coffee, cats, Work (OMG, so much fodder there), relationships (the Wifey and the Father-in-Law)... you get the drift. Anyways, if you like what I'm doing, send me a note. If you don't, send me a note, but please be constructive. I have no patience for stupidity or intolerance, unless it's my own! 8-p
Thought for the day: Boy, am I fat. IMHO, I'm now closer than ever to resembling a charsiew pau on legs.[Charsiew pau: Red, sweetened BBQ pork bits in a fluffy white dough thing. Roughly oval shaped. For all you International readers]
Wifey though, is now more than ever, a babe. She spent some serious effort on getting slimmer and fitter. She went to the gym, joined a few mini-marathons and now, she's a beginner triathlete! She's tanned and fit, diametrically opposite me, corpulent slug couch potato hunched over a laptop. Being fit and staying fit is good for almost-middle aged folks like me - definitely don't want to be hobbling around suffering from heart-attacks when I reach 50. But like most unfit people, I'm just having trouble getting started. I'd rather spend my weekends vegging and drinking my personally-pulled espresso shots.
Wifey is starting to hang out with other triathletes from the local community, which is good, because she wants and needs guidance for training, and fitness supplies. Like her most recent acquisition - an Orbea bike - budget-class, but quite serviceable. She would have had a hard time finding it at that price if it weren't for helpful people in the local triathlete support club. She's out biking on 80 kilometer rides and training with buff Supermen.And I'm still a charsiew pau. (sigh)
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