Month: September 2004

The Submarine

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This is another story about My Aunt Penny.

This is another story about My Aunt Penny.

I don’t know when the argument started. It seems like it was always there; it seems like a beginning of time thing.

It defined, in many ways, my father, my family, the relationship between my parents and Penny who-is-not-really-my-aunt. It represents intellectual games, stubbornness, and a profound silliness; it also represents people who have trouble ever admitting they’re wrong.

What is it, the argument goes, that makes a submarine a submarine?

Sandwiches, we’re talking. Not undersea vessels.

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Spanking Blog, or, I Love the Internet

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Here’s how the story goes. I pick up a new reader and start up a conversation. This new reader confesses how they found my blog. Evidently this entry caught the attention of someone named “Spank Boss” at Spanking Blog. Yes, Spanking Blog. How cool is that? Warning – the above-linked blog has some dirty pictures. […]

Here’s how the story goes.

I pick up a new reader and start up a conversation.

This new reader confesses how they found my blog.

Evidently this entry caught the attention of someone named “Spank Boss” at Spanking Blog. Yes, Spanking Blog.

How cool is that?

Warning – the above-linked blog has some dirty pictures. Click at your own risk.

Overcoming Normality

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“You’re so weird” the little girl said to me. And stealing a line from Lion King, which I think stole it from Reversal of Fortune, I replied; “You have no idea.”

“You’re so weird” the little girl said to me.

And stealing a line from Lion King, which I think stole it from Reversal of Fortune, I replied;

“You have no idea.”

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Ecto 2

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Ok, I’m a convert. My first question when my partner in blogitude (who hosts this blog for me) broached moving away from Movable Type to some other platofrm was “does it support Ecto?” I can’t blog without Ecto anymore. Hell, I just wrote something else in Ecto that wasn’t even for a blog because it […]

Ok, I’m a convert. My first question when my partner in blogitude (who hosts this blog for me) broached moving away from Movable Type to some other platofrm was “does it support Ecto?”

I can’t blog without Ecto anymore. Hell, I just wrote something else in Ecto that wasn’t even for a blog because it was the first thing that came to mind that could do simple html tags in a posting.

Ecto, my friends, kicks major ass. As Cory over at BoingBoing.

So the beta version of Ecto 2 is out. And it’s looking damned good. Adriaan has a WYSIWYAG interface using Rich Text for people who don’t wanna do HTML, he has the same HTML tag interface I’m used to, he has better support for multiple blogs, he has a better formating interface, a more intuitive interface for main entries and continuations, and I’m guessing some other features that I have not found yet.

Ecto 1 was great. This one looks like a major leap forward in usability.

If you’re an ecto user already, I’d suggest gettng it. If you’re not an ecto user, but you’re a blogger using any of the major platforms, take a look. It’s a big improvement over the web-based interfaces that most platforms provide.

I’m happy to insert this tag:

Because Ecto rules.

Choose your disaster

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Someplace like here n California?”No, you have earthquakes there, I’m scared of earthquakes”Huh?It’s funny…. My house, built in 1933, didn’t sustain more than a few cosmetic cracks and some water damage from fish-tanks that slopped but didn’t fall…. Compare it to the death toll from hurricanes in the Caribbean this year; again, not that much…. But it was just so weird to me today to describe this little, nothing quake, interesting only because it made a weird sound, and to have people respond with fear…. Still, I have a hard time imagining choosing this train of hurricanes that are lined up like an arrow pointed to FLA over a little rock and roll.

You are just a dreamer,
and I am just a dream.
You could have been
anyone to me.
Before that moment
you touched my lips
That perfect feeling
when time just slips
Away between us
on our foggy trip.

You are like a hurricane
There’s calm in your eye.
And I’m getting’ blown away
To somewhere safer
where the feeling stays.
I want to love you but
I’m getting blown away.

    –Neil Young, ‘Like a Hurricane’

Something woke me up last night at 3:30 am. I’m not sure what. Some premonition, some fore-shock.

At 3:32 am a small earthquake struck. Small as in 3.4 on the Richter scale. Nothing really. A few seconds later there was another, the same magnitude.

These were interesting because they were loud. The first sounded like a car being slammed into the side of my house twice – BOOM! — BOOM!. The second started with a quick-swelling rumble and the a side-to-side shaking. I’ve never heard such a loud quake.

I got up and looked on the USGS web site and found they already had info; these guys are good. And then I understood why this seemed different; the epicenter was less than a mile from my house. This baby was close.

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Kilt Inspectors

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I should remember, when I say “I don’t feel like working the kilt booth“. I should remember that I always have a great time. Always. Screwing with people. “You’re not wearing a kilt today, sir! We can hep you with that problem – we can liberate you from those trousers!” “This is a kilted event, […]

I should remember, when I say “I don’t feel like working the kilt booth“. I should remember that I always have a great time. Always.

Screwing with people.

“You’re not wearing a kilt today, sir! We can hep you with that problem – we can liberate you from those trousers!”

“This is a kilted event, sir!, Why are you not kilted?”

Or when the guy’s ignoring me and his female companion is not:

“You see, she understands, Sir! She wants you in a kilt!” (I turn and speak to her) “Oh, yes, she understands all right.”

“You’re walking away sir! Tell me, where did my pitch go wrong?”

I could do this all day. It’s like being a carnival barker, you need a good spiel, and you need to be able to think fast and do the verbal spar with people.

But then the day turned more interesting.

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She Comes when She’s Ready

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I can’t figure out why I have so little will to write. I’ve tried to work on some erotica I wanted to get down – a piece based on real people I know that I started a while back. But I stared at the page and nothing happened. I tried to get back to the […]

I can’t figure out why I have so little will to write.

I’ve tried to work on some erotica I wanted to get down – a piece based on real people I know that I started a while back. But I stared at the page and nothing happened.

I tried to get back to the Wanton sequel I have partly done but it again defies me. I know it’s gone in the wrong direction, but I can’t figure out if I need to toss the whole thing or if I can find where it goes wrong.

I feel like, the effort I put into all this, re-building and upgrading, that I should now be typing out great reams of creative work; somehow though the sheer amount of brain-power I put into that technological project last week seemed to leave me spent. It’s frustrating. The muse, as usual, won’t be commanded but comes when she’s ready. A though that reminds me of a story, but it’s someone else’s story.

Today, I am off to work at a Highland Games, selling Utilikilts. Normally something I love doing, but for some reason today I’m not that into it. I’d rather be doing nothing, or writing, or doing stupid shit around the house, or drinking and hanging out with friends. I’m sure that will change when I’m there and doing the sales thing, but now — I’d rather be sleeping.

But maybe I’ll go buy a new kilt today. You can’t have too many kilts.