looking over the popular interests page and discovered that swimming is more popular than sex

I live by the beach. Am I doing sometihng wrong? I was also surprised to find Tori Amos was more popular than food.

Science fiction beats out chocolate? what? nope, I deny that.

For what it’s worth, livejournal is apparently more interesting than money or religion. Why aren’t there more paid members? I think I’m sending brad my $$ this Friday, when I get paid, as this is easily the most frequent program I use or think about these days.

Sunday… lovely, and I still have another day off!

Didn’t make it to Norton today, mind/body fried from the last week’s exhausting schedule. Skipped everway too. I did, however get the first supers game with the Hunters in, and that was quite fun. 1930’s setting, Characters are – Hawkman clone, Prof Tick-Tock (makes clockwork doodads for assorted needs), Lucky Lil (occultist/probability manipulation), H. Wu (magic Sword, chi blast anti-tong), Noodles the Clown (cursed comedian with magic pants. Really.), and Piston (Cyborg [1930’s style- think robocop powered by pneumatics]). seems to be an occult theme running through it, at least this session.

Went to see (you guessed it!) Godzilla 2k with my little brother this evening, (Now that I’ve seen it more than 3 times, I can see where I would’ve edited it more, especially at the beginning, for tighter time.) after that, we went out to dinner at big pink, the tasty food source right next door. Yummy Hummus opener, and veggie-burger meal. Bro ate a carno-burger, and we gabbed for a while.

walked along los Olas, talked about stuff, and we looked at the boats and mocked the goofy rich people & drank orange slurpees. His apartment is small, and nicely Spartan, but no worse than my own shoebox. 🙂

Newton has been quite a good little guy these last couple of weeks, I think he’s preferring the bachelor life. (Nobody else in the apt to take my attention from him, I think)

some questions.

How does the guy who drives the snowplow get to work in the mornings?

If nothing ever sticks to Teflon, how do they make Teflon stick to the pan?

If you have your finger touching the rearview mirror that says — “objects in mirror are closer than they appear”, how can that be possible?

What really causes that thing we call ‘static cling’, and what do ‘fabric softener’ companies know that we don’t?

When they ship Styrofoam, what do they pack it in?

Why are there interstate highways in Hawaii?

Why did kamikaze pilots wear helmets?

Why is it so hard for me to remember how to spell MNEMONIC?

Why is there an expiration date on sour cream?

Why, after you hear see a new word, you then see it three or four times in the same week?

Scotto’s Empathy rating.


Lucky you — not only are you a caring person, but you are probably a very happy one! You find laughter and smiles to be contagious, and you get pleasure from other people’s joy. Being able to identify with someone else’s happiness is a wonderful skill to have. Most likely, you are very tuned in to the emotions of others, and their moods affect you profoundly. Chances are that someone else’s good fortune can always make your day a little brighter, and your support and compassion can always brighten someone else’s day.


You tend to be overly sensitive to the needs, feelings, and thoughts of other people. Chances are that , you are so tuned in to the emotions of others that you may have a hard time recognizing or identifying your OWN emotions. Moderation is the key here. You are probably so empathetic that people may take advantage of you, without your – or sometimes even their – ever knowing it. It is commendable to understand and help other people as much as possible, but it is equally important to take your own needs, emotions, and thoughts into account.


Ouch! Not only do you have to deal with your own pain, but you feel the pain of those around you as well. You identify so closely with other people’s feelings of discomfort that under some circumstances you probably have trouble distinguishing between their grief and your own. Most likely, you have a difficult time moving past the painful experiences of someone you care about or someone you have read about. Illness and suffering are topics that you cannot ignore, and you probably become overly involved in other people’s issues. Keep in mind that although it is noble to immerse yourself in other people’s experiences, it is imperative to acknowledge that their issues are not yours to solve.

Almost at the gate!

I’m just polishing off my evening stuff.. maybe another half hour-full hour to go. I think I’m going ot treat myself to some ice cream from mighty walgreens on the way home. They have phish food and cherry garcia now!! (Special interest note to Zoe…. still ony 5 varieties, but the choices are mucho better!!)

I’m feeling that it’s time to start my decompression… my headache is a dull throb, I think the migrane aspect never blossomed, although it seemed that it might for a while there.

it’s funny.

a kind word goes a long way in my book. I’m facing about another 8-10 hours of being here, and I really don’t mind because someone paid me a compliment. Not at work, mind you. no recognition here.

Thanks. I feel like I just bit into a york peppermint patty. (at least, how the the commercials make it seem.)


road trip

We were driving down a long lonely one of those deserted stretches of U.S. highway somewhere in the Midwest, the great breadbasket of these here United States, when Stan suddenly remarked, “Get a look at that, Scotto, up ahead!” I did the squints and saw, to my surprise, a very large pool of viscous black goo up ahead where a good portion of the highway ought to have been. “What do you suppose that is?” he asked, and I said, “Viscous black goo, Stan, ain’t you ever seen viscous black goo before?” As I recall, there was something light and airy on the AM dial as we continued relentlessly forward. I forget what I was thinking about at the time, it was certainly Important in that special way we all have around here, and Stan said, “Do you suppose we’ll glide over the top of it?” and I said, “Here’s a ring around the collar says we find out.”

The front end of the car traversed some distance across the top of the pool before ultimately becoming mired, and the back end soon followed suit. We found ourselves sinking incredibly slowly, and what’s worse, reception was becoming poor on the ol’ AM. Stan said, “We can’t open these doors, can we,” and I replied, “That’s some goo, huh.” As the car sank, the view of the goo slopping up over the hood was duly impressive; the dim neon of a distant street lamp gave the whole pool of goo a rather luminescent quality. Man and machine, soon to be enveloped like dinosaurs in the tar pits, only god knows the dino- saurs never drove Toyotas. As the goo rose (or as the car sank, depending on how full or empty your glass is), we watched it squirm and slosh against the windows, teasing us a bit, and Stan said, “That’s some goo all right,” and I could only mutter, “Enthusiastic, ain’t it?” Soon I had to flick on the dome light, because the goo was up over the roof of the car. It was getting awfully hot and hard to breathe. Then Stan said, “What do you suppose’ll happen if I crack the window a little bit?”

What can I say? We were curious.

Welcome to my wall scrawls.