Thursday, June 14, 2007

Hey all. Well, daughter #2 could be born as soon as next week. We breathed a sigh of relief as my mom arrived on the island last night and will be on hand to watch daughter #1 and help out Mrs. P on the homefront as that day of days creeps up in its not so petty pace from day to day, out out brief flashlight, etcetera.

Recommendation #1: Totally Insane, Straight from the Backstreets. Early 90’s Palo Alto rap. Just trust me.

We had a minor heat wave which seems to have broken, but it’s still pretty hot, if that makes any sense.

Recommendation #2: Watch the Firefly Complete Series DVD set. Just trust me. I’m about halfway through. The movie (Serenity), while OK, pales in comparison with the whole tapestry that is the show, not to mention (although I will go ahead and mention it) that it has to be set in an alternate timeline or dimension or something, because, well, they just can’t coexist. You’ll know if you watch both. The show’s better, this story was tailored for the tube. Too bad network execs destroyed it then murdered it and then took a bath in its blood on a moonlit night in Memphis. (That last bit may be unsubstantiated.)

And suddenly I’m out of time.

Ah here we are it’s the next day. I’m now in the process of doing a writing exercise. 7 minutes, according to this comic book lady (gratzi hurting malone). His name’s not really malone, well, maybe it is, I don’t know. He didn’t like the new silver surfer book, written by straczynski, which I didn’t even know existed.

Stop. That’s not what’s to be penned. Now, this is what’s to be penned. Start over again. Jeez, you already blew a minute and a half on that? No, that, no, this.

So, work, I’m working, I’m at work. I’m looking out into a warehouse with a Mercedes and a jaguar in it, neither of which is mine. There is, however, an 87 honda rebel motorcycle out there, and that IS mine. I have to go pick up a front brake master cylinder kit for it, either this afternoon/evening or maybe tomorrow? Then my brakes will be good to stop, er, go, er, stop.

I watched an episode of medium with my wife and mother last night. We hid baby girl’s eyes for the scary parts and yippered pleasant sounds and happy smiles and I bounced her on my knee and cuddled and squeezed her to distract from a frightening storyline involving a man who would commit horrible crimes in 7 years time.

Is it not amazing that one simple idea, like Dilbert, can end up making you millions of dollars? All you need is one idea, then execution, then proper business management, then consistency, and a formula, and a way to keep things fresh within the framework of said formula, and you’re set for life, and your children’s lives, and your grandchildren’s lives, unless you buy 83 diamond encrusted platinum chains every week on Tuesday, going down to the Tacoma gold shop with Sir Mix-a-Lot and Kid Sensation, but even then, you’ll probably have a little scrilla left over to set up a college fund. I think the motto here is that jewelry is evil unless it’s a pinky ring, and you’re gonna definitely need that for respect down at the cigar club.

What would we do without air conditioning? It would be a bit hotter, wouldn’t it? Well, I lived without it for eons. I guess you just open the nearest window and enjoy the weather. What a novel concept. It’s actually pretty nice & breezy out right now. But it is dusty here down the hill from the quarry and up the hill from the swamp. There’s a sophisticated word for what kind of swamp it is, but that widget of knowledge escapes me.

Ok, it’s 10:23.