naughty newtie on the counter… he’s not allowed where knives or fire can get him. he knows better.
newt stalking my toes
Monthly Archives: January 2002
Never know how much I love you, never know how much I care
When you put your arms around me, I get a fever that’s so hard to bear
You give me fever – when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight
Fever – in the the morning, fever all through the night
Sun lights up the daytime, moon lights up the night
I light up when you call my name, and you know I’m gonna treat you right
You give me fever – when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight
Fever – in the the morning, fever all through the night
Everybody’s got the fever, that is something you all know
Fever isn’t such a new thing, fever started long ago
Romeo loved Juliet, Juliet she felt the same
When he put his arms around her, he said “Julie baby you’re my flame”
Thou givest fever, when we kisseth, fever with thy flaming youth
Fever – I’m afire, fever yea I burn forsooth
Captain Smith and Pocahontas had a very mad affair
When her Daddy tried to kill him, she said “Daddy-O don’t you dare”
Give me fever – with his kisses, fever when he holds me tight
Fever – I’m his Missus, Oh daddy won’t you treat him right
Now you’ve listened to my story, here’s the point I have made:
Chicks were born to give you fever, be it Fahrenheit or Centigrade
They give you fever – when you kiss them, fever if you live and learn
Fever – till you sizzle, what a lovely way to burn
What a lovely way to burn
What a lovely way to burn
Goooood to be home. I *really* didn’t want to be there today… nap and wrap urge was very strong. Speaking of very strong, there was something stinky outside my door… what was that?
Note to self, make sure my backup knows how to do certs and some more of the misc stuff before I go home tomorrow.
Pleasantly surprised that Diana didn’t really get uppity with me beyond her normal range. I was on alert status and didn’t have to deal with any real trouble.
also, via
no, it has nothing to do with eating meat. it’s a people thing.
Next time you go to McDonalds – reflect on this.
$5.75 ain’t much. $5.75/hour X 40 hours/week X 52 weeks/year = $11,960. that’s before taxes are taken out. some people said it was disrespectful for me to take a job at mcdonalds — i didn’t need the money, and they thought that i was making fun of people that work there. the opposite is true: i gained a bucket of respect for people that bust their butt for such low pay. it’s one thing to scan past stats about americans that make $12,000 per year — or read about them in the paper. but, to actually work a tough fry-heaving, mcnugget-wielding 6-hour shift — and get home smelling like those fries and mcnuggets — and realize that you only made about $30 that day… that’s a serious eye-opener. interpret as you see fit.
no, it has nothing to do with eating meat. it's a people thing.
Next time you go to McDonalds – reflect on this.
$5.75 ain’t much. $5.75/hour X 40 hours/week X 52 weeks/year = $11,960. that’s before taxes are taken out. some people said it was disrespectful for me to take a job at mcdonalds — i didn’t need the money, and they thought that i was making fun of people that work there. the opposite is true: i gained a bucket of respect for people that bust their butt for such low pay. it’s one thing to scan past stats about americans that make $12,000 per year — or read about them in the paper. but, to actually work a tough fry-heaving, mcnugget-wielding 6-hour shift — and get home smelling like those fries and mcnuggets — and realize that you only made about $30 that day… that’s a serious eye-opener. interpret as you see fit.
Protected: Seeya, Alvin… Hello, Cranky Di.
Hey neato! Snap Club! a place for folks to post little piccies here and there. very interesting to snoopy scotto.
Thanks to
Ok, back to some text.
Next Monday is officially Danny Day. We’re going to get together for breakfast, and just have fun tooling around for a bit. It will be my job to keep the spirits chipper, as he’s suffering from teacher burnout. I think a visit to Dave & Buster’s, and maybe a long conversation over coffee at Barnie’s is in order. Maybe some more wargaming. It’ll be a nice fun day to start the week off. I still don’t know which day little brother has off next week. I hope it’s not Monday.
Heh… there was a time when I would become actively engaged by the Dave Sim/Alan Moore debate, but now, it’s just sort of silly. fascinating reading from a nostalgic point of view, though. The sniping is sharp.
found object of the day
found on my walk… it’s a little large, so I’m lj-cutting it. It’s an air-freshener, I think. It made me feel really good.
Guess whose Digicam came?
Newt, after moving food to his fave playzone… what a slobby boy. his dino-toys and chew thingies, and a stolen pick. (thanks to
He likes the water I splash myself with in the morning.
My super hearing is a mixed blessing. I can again hear all 17 fans, every scrap of static and clack of keyboard. The overhead lights hum. I wouldn’t trade it for what I had before. sharp, solid focus, I can even hear to a slight degree the people talking in regular voices in the hall behind the door.
I thank what powers that be… be it yawning, chewing, or the magical auditory pixies that retuned my eardrum to play more than white noise and pressure.
I’ve never heard Newt go “ngeong”.
International Animal Noises How to translate “moo,” “oink,” “bzzz,” and so on into major world languages. Caution again, some of the translation pages have autoplay on the animal sounds.
In other news, I’m back on the writing bandwagon. (I have figured out how to bypass the evils of a laptop keyboard… plug in a full-sized one! I can write reclined with the board in my lap and still pivot and turn… an ergonomic design that I really work more comfortably with.) And my ear cleared again… waugh. by way of chewing lunch. Now, I have super hearing again.
It’s a shame I don’t see more of
Thinking about the poetry of Azru Jehu, and it’s warming me, bringing me thoughts of pleasure and good memories. It’s funny, the chain reaction of thoughts that can take you from one point to another.
You know, I’m a fairly happy guy… (Why ‘e’s hardly gloomy, ‘e’s barely depressed, ‘e’s scarcely maudlin, ‘e is.) but I’ve always had a fascination for what’s on the other side of the curtain.
We met them at the gate though we usually wait inside. Preoccupied with their own thoughts, impatient, like so many children, they didn’t see who we really were. They never noticed our crowns, our pain, the fire in our eyes.
Like all others they think the house was made for them; actually, it is the other way around. They think we are poets who will lead them through the symbols and spaces of this underworld. They think we will teach them lessons. We are the lesson.
The monstrous walls rise up and run away as far as the human eye can see, circling and dividing. Which half is the Maze?
Even we get lost. It changes – sometimes slowly, imperceptibly…sometimes suddenly. This house is not only made of stone and mortar, wood and paint; it is made of time and mystery, hope and fear.
Construction never stops. We take some pride in our role as architects.
They think we will guide them to the center. Perhaps we will.
I've never heard Newt go "ngeong".
International Animal Noises How to translate “moo,” “oink,” “bzzz,” and so on into major world languages. Caution again, some of the translation pages have autoplay on the animal sounds.
In other news, I’m back on the writing bandwagon. (I have figured out how to bypass the evils of a laptop keyboard… plug in a full-sized one! I can write reclined with the board in my lap and still pivot and turn… an ergonomic design that I really work more comfortably with.) And my ear cleared again… waugh. by way of chewing lunch. Now, I have super hearing again.
It’s a shame I don’t see more of
Thinking about the poetry of Azru Jehu, and it’s warming me, bringing me thoughts of pleasure and good memories. It’s funny, the chain reaction of thoughts that can take you from one point to another.
You know, I’m a fairly happy guy… (Why ‘e’s hardly gloomy, ‘e’s barely depressed, ‘e’s scarcely maudlin, ‘e is.) but I’ve always had a fascination for what’s on the other side of the curtain.
We met them at the gate though we usually wait inside. Preoccupied with their own thoughts, impatient, like so many children, they didn’t see who we really were. They never noticed our crowns, our pain, the fire in our eyes.
Like all others they think the house was made for them; actually, it is the other way around. They think we are poets who will lead them through the symbols and spaces of this underworld. They think we will teach them lessons. We are the lesson.
The monstrous walls rise up and run away as far as the human eye can see, circling and dividing. Which half is the Maze?
Even we get lost. It changes – sometimes slowly, imperceptibly…sometimes suddenly. This house is not only made of stone and mortar, wood and paint; it is made of time and mystery, hope and fear.
Construction never stops. We take some pride in our role as architects.
They think we will guide them to the center. Perhaps we will.
http://www.midol.com/mightymidol/mightymidol2.cfm
The mighty midols! Fight the evil of Monsteration…
This is a hoot.. the game’s fun too.. warning, the page has sound.