Reuse/Recycle Blog Material

So cleaning up old musings involves some good finds, such as this letter I wrote 17 years ago:

March 5, 1991

Dear smiling lady,

My Problem is that Reading I’m always reading and my mom says to stop reading and work. at I do it rarly. I try and stop but there are such good books. Like a a Milne Books and well there are to many good books. What can I do.Please at least try and put an answer.

Yours Hopfully

Ps you were always a good writer

[the spacing is siiiiiic]


Also, on a political front, I just got an email entitled: Babies: The Next Generation of Environmentalists.

Well, duh. I mean, look at this face:
This is the face of a carbon-conscious, locally growing-and-eating drool fool.
photo courtesy of Flickr and hellosputnik


Oh, one last thing before doomsday. Does anyone else have mundanely apocalyptic thoughts when sleep-deprived? Just me? K.


Lastly but should have been firstly, I just rediscovered this sharp piece of wit written by comic cohort, Seaton Smith. Cash this reading check with your eyes! You’ll be laughing all the way to and from the bank.

Just What the Witch Doctor Ordered…

last night, i woke up in a dark place, physically and mentally.

it’s a disorienting feeling when your eyes open…the ceiling is 2 feet in front of your face. and you’re a backstabbing adulterer.

then i realized how i got there.

1) i was in my car.
2) i woke up in the middle of an indiestyle (heavy on the emo) no-friend-of-mine adulterous dream (details spared).

we’re nappin’!

photo courtesy of Flickr and basykes

a nip nap

photo courtesy of Flickr and billsaturno

nippy to the nappy

photo courtesy of Flickr and scragz

izza nip nap skibbely dee

photo courtesy of Flickr and foxypar4

anyone can nap it up

photo courtesy of Flickr and Aaron_M

includin’ you an’ me!

photo courtesy of Flickr and wili_hybrid

so nap it

photo courtesy of Flickr and Timothy Lloyd

jus’ nap it

photo courtesy of Flickr and samoyedfriend

turn my mic up

photo courtesy of Flickr and DEMOSH

drop a zzzzz

photo courtesy of Flickr and banna123456

i was so sleepy yesterday that i barely rolled into my driveway before stepping full throttle on the seatback recliner and going from 0 to 60 rem with rapid ninja precision, babystyle.

as my lurid subsconscious worked its voodoo freudian ballyhoo and hours passed, the sun set, my stomach protested and the car raised an eyebrow at my latest stationary exploits.

coming to felt like the end of a narcoleptic bender, lasting for days, weeks even. i barely knew who i was, let alone where, why, or how. rip van winkle, i feel your pain, man.

finally, i stumbled into the house zombieish, murmuring “i jus woke up? i jus woke up?”, bleary-eyed, unable to walk a straight line…to the utter concern-quickly-transforming-into-giddy-delight of my father figure.


(the only thing holding up this still shot is magic.)

today’s 9-to-5-friendly tip: don’t start small-talk conversations with coworkers that you don’t know how to finish (short of trailing off and abruptly walking away). yes, it happened. no, i don’t want to talk about it.