Boring Weekend destress

On three poetry contest
3...
2...
1...
GO!!!

And so goes the bulk of the weekend. We bumble around looking for the right flowers on which to land. A slow drip defines the progression of time. The last drop as rich as the first. A long wait for the final oozings to peep out of the bottle. How does the time pass? Oh I'm so glad you asked.

New

Miss Blue message for you...

I make new post!

NEW POST!

I love me.


!OUT!

web 5.6

Web 2.0 is nice it's fancy, but it's out of date. Web 5.6 is coming. 5.6 is going to be much more intense then 2.0 because it has grangysling in it. Imagine all that grangysling, just bubbling up from inside, what a difference that will make.
!Out!

Bumper Cars

Sometimes I wish you could play bumper cars with real cars. In a desperate search for Q tips today, I found "hot peanuts" in the door compartment. I thought about throwing them out the window, and then I worried, that If I did they would hit the ground and bounce all over the road like happy skittles from the sky. Alas, I did not throw them and hope they will still be there when I return. Alas, so will the Q tips I found.
!OUT!

The Carnal nature of a push pin

Bulletin boards hate me, they are always full of disorganized layers of important information, most of which is lost on me, cause I like the pictures instead of the words. There is a collective subconscious pattern that we are all trying to follow when we put postings on bulletin boards. The pattern is based on this truth: the more important the information the more useless crap you should pile on top. This is why Google doesn't get better at its job over time.

The newest of new years

Greetings from a new year,
Something about my holiday was great this time around family friends and a steady helping of food. One thing that seems to permeate these experiences, a subtly haunting feeling always seems creeping. The clock seems determined: the passage of time like a background to the holidays, the presents are different, you no longer wait on Santa, and the feeling that yes there can in fact be something as too much food.

I couldn't tell what it was about time that persistently seemed to say, hey! time continues marching on keep up! Perhaps it was that New Years is a Holiday devoted entirely to counting down. Like we all are celebrating the steady march towards the end: prisoners doing the jail house rock. It's magical


!out!