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euismod dolor nec pretium. Nunc ut tristique massa.
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Good gravy, what a day. At work we racked six (6) large unix servers, which requires putting special slidey rails into big racks, then taking them out and doing it again, because we either put them in backwards or used the wrong screws, meaning that the server could fall out of the rails and crunch. Since each of them is worth more than my car by an order of magnitude, we thought it best to do the job right. Took about six hours.
It also meant that I didn’t get to work out, which is greatly annoying because I’m still fat. Tonight I may have to get on the exercise bike, but I may just skip it because I hiked and ran in the woods for 100 minutes yesterday to combat the effects of the 8 beers and 3 platters of sushi I ate afterwards.
In short, I’m exhausted, which along with the fact that I’m composing this on my iPhone while pushing Charles’s swing explains both the crappiness and brevity of this post.
Have a pimpslappinous weekend, allsayalls!
For those of you who are, like me, “Pro-Mo,” I need you to sign the petition to keep Lt. Dan Choi from being kicked out of the army for being gay. Particularly since the Obama administration has its collective thumb in its butt, waiting for some kind of magical fairy to give them permission to rescind discriminatory policies. And no fairies are likely to show up because they keep kicking them out of the military.
The scariest part of this picture is how much the baby looks like Josephine:
AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com
I’m thinking we need to reenact this shot with Josephine and one of her grandfathers, probably my dad, because Sarah’s dad has never worn and never will wear makeup of any kind.
I was never a huge Michael Jackson fan, but I freely admit that he was probably the greatest pop entertainer ever. My fondest memory: going somewhere on vacation with my wife, I don’t remember where, and I don’t remember if this was before kids or if Charles might have even been with us, but we listened to Sarah’s Best of Michael Jackson CD and sang every song at the top of our lungs. Even as casual MJ fans, we knew every word.
I dreamt about Thriller last night; it was the least scary nightmare ever.
Found this pretty field of clover whilst out on a hike yesterday. Not five minutes later I came upon a group of high-schoolers who asked if I had any rolling papers.
I keep hearing from people who “aren’t into” Facebook and Twitter. You know what those people are saying? “You know what I hate? Keeping in touch with my friends and family. I’d like to distance myself as far from them as possible.”
Facebook is what you make of it. Think it’s lame to be “friended” by someone you barely knew from 10th grade biology? Then don’t befriend her. Want to avoid old girlfriends and/or enemies? Don’t befriend them. Facebook has allowed my wife to rekindle old grudges by conspicuously denying friendships to people she hasn’t seen in 10 years. It’s fantastic!
The common complaint about Twitter is: “I don’t care about what my friends are doing at all hours of the day. ‘Cleaning the toilet! Lots of skidmarks!’ How silly!” You’re a putz. Twitter has a measure of that, to be sure, but it also has friends and celebrities sharing links and information, tossing off witty bon mots, and the occasional photoshopped horrible eye stabbing (WARNING: DO NOT CLICK THAT LINK UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES). If you have a friend who tweets nothing but Sartre quotes and poop stories, and you’re not into that, don’t follow him. Don’t want random people seeing your Godot quotes and hemorrhoids anecdotes? Protect your entries.
Not using Facebook and Twitter doesn’t make you cool any more than not using email does. Is your grandmother cool? Well, maybe she is, but that’s because she lets you drink from her flask and got you a bong for your 18th birthday.