If Jordan screws that reporter guy I'll never watch that show again.

This one kind of blows, but it's better than the one it replaces.

(I put this up on my JS blog last night. I've had one response, and it was wrong. I told those JS people that I'd get a half-dozen correct responses if I posted it here. So here's your chance to prove your stalking supremacy.)

I guess I'm supposed to write something here.

That's what people do, right? They write stuff. Sometimes other people read the stuff. Hell, sometimes they even respond.

Well I have nothing to say right now, but I'd still like to appear normal, so I'll fake it.

And you can help.

I'll write this entry, and you read it, and maybe even respond.

I know, let's have a pop quiz:

1. I recently picked up some keys. What were they for?
__ __    __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __

2. What did I hope for?
__ __ __    __ __ __ __ __ __ __

3. What was the tsunami?
__ __ __ __ __  by  __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __

And, since I'm such a nice guy, here are the answers:

a a c d e e g h i i i i l l m n n o o o p p p p r s s s s s t t t v w y

Apparently I've broken my pinkie toe and the one next to it. Either that or I've just jammed the fuck out of them.

They are both a lovely brown-purple-black color.

So, ouch!

I rarely drink at home, believe it or not, but tonight I decided to try a bottle of this stuff:

Bells Batch 7000 Ale (12)

(bottle) Very intense aroma as soon as the cap was removed. No head to speak of. After the first few sips that were nothing but alcohol burn, the rest of this went down quite nicely. Too much coffee and too little chocolate for it to ever be a real favorite. I got some cola from this too, especially in the aroma.

I don't know why I even bothered to try.

There was no way that I was ever going to be able to handle this.

So I'll deal with it the same way I've dealt with everything else since early September. I'll bottle it up.

By an odd coincidence, all of the labels on the bottles start with the same letter. Loss, Longing, Lust, and Love are now joined by a fifth bottle: Liability.

Guilt would have been better for this last one, but I wanted to stick with the L-words because I like that TV show. Jennifer Beals is hot.

It started last night.

I was typing an email, and a door in my head opened up. And I remembered something.

But that was just the beginning. Similar memories have been bombarding me ever since.

This dam has burst.

I don't think I slept at all.

I am such an idiot.

I am such an asshole.

I can feel myself shutting down now.

Well I've gone and rearranged most of the files in this site today, putting things into subdirectories and such.

I don't think that any of the internal links are broken, but if you find any please let me know.

External links to this site, such as those from google, will probably be messed up for a while.

Most of the time, the water simply exists, lapping at my feet. I hardly notice it anymore. But for the last few days, every now and then, there have been larger waves. Every now and then a rogue wave will just wash over me, and knock me off my feet, and soak me to the bone.

And then there's nothing, and I'll stand up and I'll wonder, "Where did that come from?"

Was it one of the last remnants of the storm that's passed, or one of the first hints of a new and more powerful tempest, forming out beyond the horizon?

Yes, I really said this. And yes, I really thought it was a compliment at the time. What with horses being her favorite animal and all.