I'm not sick, but I'm not well
although my wife is off work today, it is still a bit of the ol' after the ball is over, today.
cleaning the house, unwinding from the fun of the holiday. funny, how a day that is intended to be a holiday is often busier than your average run-of-the-mill day.
j and i were chatting the other day, and in the ill-advised way that i sometimes do, i attempted to make a joke relating to my father being murdered. it was funny in my head, really it was. of course, j had no idea, and felt bad immediately, which, naturally (as you, the beloved non-existants like to point out in comments, i really am a big softie, though with the occasional core of raw fuck-off steel) made me feel horrible and like a complete ass.
i wish everyone shared my same twisted and bizarre sense of humor, things would be so much simpler.
i just want to say here, in my inimitable fashion, that i am always doing my part to keep alberta rat-free.
am i the only one that can't wait until we have teleport machines? drop the kids off at school, pop into the teleport to grab some tea in morrocco, and i am sure that the rest of you would be welcome as well. we will be discussing the string theory and miracles versus choices, or some such thing. not really sure. but the big key is teleport machines.
i have been putting together a guitar for my friend, g. except for strings, and the fine-tuning i will need to do to the neck and bridge, it is all done. i kicked it into high gear after we found out we were gonna be moving. the cool thing about this guitar is instead of a painted finish, it is completely covered in pictures from playboy, and penthouse. at the same time i started putting the guitar together, i also acquired a rather large-ish stack of porno mags, and had the crazy idea to cut out naked chicks and glue them to the guitar's surface. not a speck of the original finish remains visible. i was quite proud of the outcome, but want another shot at a similar kind of thing, to apply valuable lessons i learned from this one.
none of this was really going anywhere.
and that being the case, i am going to just drop it like a hot piece of lead, he he.
thanks for playing along.
darth sardonic
cleaning the house, unwinding from the fun of the holiday. funny, how a day that is intended to be a holiday is often busier than your average run-of-the-mill day.
j and i were chatting the other day, and in the ill-advised way that i sometimes do, i attempted to make a joke relating to my father being murdered. it was funny in my head, really it was. of course, j had no idea, and felt bad immediately, which, naturally (as you, the beloved non-existants like to point out in comments, i really am a big softie, though with the occasional core of raw fuck-off steel) made me feel horrible and like a complete ass.
i wish everyone shared my same twisted and bizarre sense of humor, things would be so much simpler.
i just want to say here, in my inimitable fashion, that i am always doing my part to keep alberta rat-free.
am i the only one that can't wait until we have teleport machines? drop the kids off at school, pop into the teleport to grab some tea in morrocco, and i am sure that the rest of you would be welcome as well. we will be discussing the string theory and miracles versus choices, or some such thing. not really sure. but the big key is teleport machines.
i have been putting together a guitar for my friend, g. except for strings, and the fine-tuning i will need to do to the neck and bridge, it is all done. i kicked it into high gear after we found out we were gonna be moving. the cool thing about this guitar is instead of a painted finish, it is completely covered in pictures from playboy, and penthouse. at the same time i started putting the guitar together, i also acquired a rather large-ish stack of porno mags, and had the crazy idea to cut out naked chicks and glue them to the guitar's surface. not a speck of the original finish remains visible. i was quite proud of the outcome, but want another shot at a similar kind of thing, to apply valuable lessons i learned from this one.
none of this was really going anywhere.
and that being the case, i am going to just drop it like a hot piece of lead, he he.
thanks for playing along.
darth sardonic
Labels: harvey danger, randomness
posted by darth sardonic at 2:57 PM
6 Comments:
I would love teleporting. It would mean I could sleep till 7 instead of getting up at 6 every morning. Not to mention I wouldn't freeze my patootie off warming up the car or walking from here to there....
I like the way the guitar sounds. I need new strings on mine.
yes, teleporting would be handy indeed.
i like the guitar, but have to admit that i am partial to the bass, and always will be.
Teleporting... Until then, MSN is the next best thing, at least when it comes to discussing the string theory and miracles versus choices with people on the other side of the globe. And I suppose you have to make your own tea, whether the said tea is English, Moroccan, Croatian, Tibetan...
...or argentine, my favorite is yerba mate. or technically, it would be mate cosido. i don't have msn either, i am such a loser, lol.
Hey - where are you? I thought you were in the US - are you in Alberta? Sign me confused!
i am in the us sparx. but in my inimitable manner, i threw in something random and nonsequitor from my surroundings. the kids were watching a pixar short on ratatouille about rats, and it appears alberta has been rat-free since the fifties. just the kind of crazy thing i like to toss in once in awhile. now let me see... (selects a pen, signs sparx as "confused")
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