PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> A Blindfolded Chimp With a Pencil in His Teeth: January 2005

Monday, January 31, 2005

It's not a tumor.

I realize I've let my blog languish for over a week. This post is just to tell you that I know its been a while, and I'm sorry. My life, despite my best efforts, has become rather busy lately. My employers want me to work, my girlfriend wants me to spend time with her, my teacher wants me to go to class, my friends want me to hang, my family wants me to visit, and my body wants me to work out three nights a week. The nerve of all of them. Really.

Anyway, I have not been without creative effort, okay? I've been hard at work building the online store. It's taken a lot of hard work and even a basic knowledge of html, which I don't have. But I've been working hard creating designs and posting witty descriptions. Go read my witty descriptions. They are witty. And descriptive. Also, buy something. Perhaps a thong, ladies?

A least get a snappin' button or a sticker. It'll help pay the bills and trust me, you'll be a lot cooler if you do.

peese owt.

Love is a battlefield.


They've just installed a 24 oz. mountain dew vending machine on the bottom floor of my office.

Note the sleepy demeanor and the hint of pleasure coming to my face. See the light of hope come to my eyes.

Next step is an intravenous delivery system. That would rule. Posted by Hello

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

I drink from the keg of glory, Donna. Bring me the finest muffins and bagels in all the land.

Thank you for the comments, those who decided to placate me. You've earned yourself another full page of wonder. Congratulations on knowing me, by the way.

Stephen's post reminded me what I am about to discuss, so I commented on his blog. Then I thought I'd cheat a little and just transfer the comment over to my own blog as a post. Huzza for laziness!

I have a painful pain that suddenly pains me out of nowhere. I have a shoulder injury from high school that comes from a bad slide tackle in a soccer game that flipped me upside down and then later in the year, a vicious suplex in a wrestling match. Both of these hurt. Super bad.

But neither of them hurt nearly as bad as it does when, completely randomly and of its own accord, my shoulder gives this loud popping noise and tries to kill me. I don't know what I ever did to make my shoulder angry, but it seems to hate me with all the fire of a thousand hells.

This is not a chronic pain. It's just this thing that happens ever so randomly and seldomly, less than every six months. You would think this would be a relief, but in fact it just makes it all the worse. If it were a chronic continuous pain, I would have either gone to the doctor or died by now. In either case the problem would be solved. But as it is now, there is always this fear in the back of my mind that my shoulder could strike at any moment. How would you like knowing that you have a sworn enemy with only your misery at heart stalking you your every waking moment?

I might be standing somewhere like the mall and raise my arm above my head to give someone a wave hello and the next minute you'd think I'd been shot because I am on the ground howling in pain. This is an all-consuming, life-ending type of pain that sends shockwaves throughout my body from my eyelids to my pinky toes. I mean it actually makes me cry. I am not exagerrating for humor. This is the worse pain I've anyone has ever felt except for Jesus.

Then in about forty-five seconds it stops hurting. This is, I admit, odd. Nevertheless, during those forty-five seconds, if someone offered to end my life, I think I might accept with gratitude.

Just thought I'd share.


Hi Corinne!! Thanks for reading. Unsolicited readership is awesomeness incarnate, which makes you awesomeness incarnate. I do still owe you dinner and I haven't forgotten -- I just suck is all.
 Posted by Hello

Monday, January 17, 2005

You lost today kid... but that doesn't mean you have to like it.

Everybody that has a blog wants other people to read it and give their opinions on it. At the bottom of each post is a convenient link that allows readers to do so. It says "comments." I have used this link several times on the blogs of others. They seem to be ungrateful. I will post no more comments without reciprocation.
I spent entirely too much time on my last blog for it to be ignored. It came with pictures. That was hard to do.

It took hours to take them with my phone, send them to my email, save them to my computer, import them to picasso, send them to my bloggerbot, add the witty captions, and the use the bloggerbot to post them on the blog. Don't forget I had to post the pictures and captions before the post itself in order for the post to appear above the pictures and captions, since the most recent posts appear on the top of the page. But in order to know what to put in the captions I had to write the post, but not post it yet, only save it as a draft. Then I posted the pictures and captions in the aforementioned manner. Thing is, the blog remembers when you saved the draft, and once you post it, it posts according to when you composed it. So I had to copy the draft onto another document, then to the post template, then post it, then go back and delete the original.

Hmmmm....I see now that below the posting template I am writing in at this moment, I mean right below it, in clear sight, there is an area where I can change the time and date of the posting, so I could have easily avoided a great deal of that trouble.

But me being a moron is not the point. The point is there was a certain amount of effort put into my last post.

If you are reading this right now, you are doing so because you find me at least a mildy more entertaining than your screensaver. I demand validation. Leave me comments or I might as well be talking to myself. And I will talk to myself and not you. You don't have to create your own blog to comment on my blog. You just hit comment, post anonymously, tell me how great I am, and sign it within the body of the comment.

Do this or I will quite blogging and go sit in the corner and pout like a baby. Man can I be a baby sometimes.

Thursday, January 06, 2005

You are a dirty pirate whore.

I know its been quite a while since I last posted, and I'm sure there have been grumblings. But let me just say that is after six o'clock in the PM and I am still hanging at work with plenty left to do. The extensive task list I have been given is both deep and wide. It does not, however, include updating my blog with any regularity. I'm at a loss as to why my superiors (*scoff* only in the professional hierarchy) failed to include this item when they were barking their orders. Apparently they just don't understand how much you people depend on me and my daily nuggets of wisdom.

Having said that I will say this: I have nothing to talk about today besides my lack of recent postings. Christmas was wonderful and very filling to my tummy. New Years was much fun in Charlotte with Laura and her family. But I assume you really don't care about that any more than I care about the details of your holiday, so I won't bore you.

Now I am back at work and have once again been banished to the tiny little workspace that is my cube, so lets talk about that today. Let me try to describe just how small this "cube" is: When I sit at my desk and work on my computer, my booty hangs out into the aisle. I'll be the first to admit that this may be exacerbated by my prodigious posterior, but I find it nonetheless a stifling environment in which to spend eight to ten hours of my day. Especially since I was told I would be getting my own office when I came to work here. Now I spend my days in a position not unlike a child with his nose in the corner. Come to think of it my mindset is not to far from that either. At least I have a window to gaze longingly out of.

I've even taken some pictures to illustrate my point. So, if you ever feel like your day sucked because you are, for instance attending college surrounded by beautiful women or say sleepily smacking your lips as you get up for your 1 p.m. shift, or too many people walked up to your big desk that may or may not be in your own private office, just remember who I hate...


YOU. Posted by Hello


Sigh. We were meant to live for so much more. Posted by Hello


This is an overhead view of my cube...cube...cube...(That's an echo. Get the subtle irony?) Posted by Hello


The chair in the back right is where my booty sticks out. This is where my chair sits while I type. Posted by Hello

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