Deep Fried Puppies

Been drinking the Green Monster for a few hours now. That shit’s ridiculous. Makes you feel like the world’s on fire and you’re bathing in diesel. Tasty, though. Very tasty. By this point I’m not even twisted. My world view is simply skewed sideways. Soon I will be seeing the gremlins.

Anyway, I’m sitting back and going through my pictures directory. Honestly, the vast majority of it is boring as all get out. I’ve got some really awesome shots of ski runs with clouds at the base of the mountain, but unless you know the scene you won’t care. Yes, Mia. That’s an amazing picture of white. I see there’s a bit of green to the left. Fascinating. End Sarcasm. But they’re awesome to me. I remember a lot of runs. Some black and white shots remind me of riding across ten feet of base and seeing the tops of stubby pines protruding from the snow to be skied over or around. Over is more fun, but a little scary. I mean, if that pine is more resilient then it looks or taller then a brief guess implies, straddling it at high rates of speed may lead to a class four catastrophe. You all know what I’m talking about.

Anyway, I’ve been viewing the Xbox Achievement Generator which is stupid but fun. “You have won fifty gold!” “You have picked up a hundred rocks!” “You have changed your oil!” “You are hungry!” The one I want to get but can’t is, “You’ve sat through your entire playlist!” meaning I’ve listened to every song on my HD. Oh, I’ve done it, but never continuously. I think by this point it would take me a month or so.

A while ago I read a book called A Secret History. (by Donna Tartt) Perhaps one of the most tense books I’ve ever read. The best part of it was the way the action was driven by an extremely low body count. It showed an amazing level of finesse. Been thinking about that a lot recently.

Anyway, off and about. Things to do.

Okay, you want to know what not to do? Mix absinthe and champagne. It’s not even so much bad as just straight weird. You will, however, have some of the most interesting dreams you can’t imagine awake.

On the subject of dreams, I spent most of the last evening not feeling terribly well. I doubt I’m coming down with anything, but I was in no mood to go out, and I missed another day on the mountain today. Hopefully I’ll make it out tomorrow. Not that a couple wasted days relaxing are a bad thing. They let the brain decompress in a way that doesn’t bother grad students.

In the mean time I’ve been polishing off some stuff I had lying around undone and surfing the web. My uploads directory is almost full now, so I’m going to dump it all here. Make a fresh start, or something like that. Here we go.

I like to write stories with a twist. Most of the time it isn’t terribly hard to see it coming. The twist can be unsettling, unnecessary, or simply incomprehensible without some prior warning. But I try to make it cool. Sometimes I succeed. And sometimes some twisted devil stops me.

There’s this thing on the web where I swear people have been traveling through time to capture images of my future progeny. But then, did not Stubborne describe me as the evil one? Even though I’m just trying to spread holiday cheer to one and all. See, I’ve always thought that my plans really weren’t so much evil as unique. Yes, by the way, that was exactly what you thought it was. You’re welcome. I hope I made you this happy.

If that doesn’t work for you, let’s talk history. Basically, history started with the vikings. After the vikings came the dinosaurs. Now don’t listen to any of that carbon dating crap. Some large headed scientists have pointed out that previously unanticipated fluctuations in solar radiation have rendered carbon dating unreliable. (This is true, by the way. The carbon dating thing. Google it.) Clearly, if you compare technology, you will see dinosaurs had to come after vikings.

But while we’re on the topic of the wonders of the natural world, we can answer another question. Why do elk have such big antlers? The answer suddenly becomes clear. It’s a wonder no one’s started hunting them or any other creature for their ornaments. Come on, people. You know I speak the truth. I would never lower myself to the level of international politics and lie.

You wanna talk vehicles? Because Xzibit couldn’t pimp my ride. He doesn’t have the cojones. Not like those guys at Lehman Brothers. Those guys know how to play the system, and do it with style. But I’m trying to keep politics out of this, so I’ll let that ride. Get it? Get it?

God, I kill me.

Anyway, I’m going to go run. Later.

I drink a lot of Absinthe. It’s fantastic.

Fuckit. I’m going drinking.

Now this is how to advertise a beer.