I smacked the shit out of my right kneecap on The Foof’s doorjamb at work this morning. Karma didn’t want me to sneak into her sister’s office and yell “COCK!”, and Karma smote me appropriately… if not preemptively.
Why can you order an Atto Ultra320 SCSI PCI card at point-of-sale when ordering a new XServe, yet cannot buy the same card after-the-fact from Apple… either online or at Tysons? Fuckers.
“Re-Birth”, the last song on Ill Niño’s “Confession” is the best one on the CD. Runner-up: “Numb”. Which brings us to la pregunta de pollo o huevo (chicken or egg question): Was the Spanish language explicitly modified from Latin so that the words amor (love) and dolor (pain) rhyme? Or, did those involved in the modification choose to preserve the inseparable nature of love and pain?
After starting off dreary and oddly chilly, today turned out to be downright beautiful.
“The Shining” is supposed to be the scariest movie ever, according to some crazy scientist types who have nothing better to do like, say, cure cancer. On a related note, I made Erin watch “House of 1000 Corpses” last night. She hated it, and found it “very disturbing”. I thought that was the whole point behind an over-the-top, what-fucked-up-shit-can-we-do-next kind of horror flick made by Rob Zombie? More disturbing, IMHO: Vulgar, 28 Days Later, American History X, The Exorcist. What’s the most disturbing movie that you’ve ever seen (crazy porn shit excluded)?
Speaking of… Erin’s phone number has “666” in it. That’s fuckin’ metal. That I get to dial the Number of the Beast almost daily–honestly–I find it really fuckin’ cool in a weird sort of way… the same weird sort of way that I will always find farts, fart gags and fart jokes completely hilarious.
I took photos of the new place last night. Closing is still scheduled for Aug. 12. Only things left to do are to wire shit from Schwab to Wachovia, and get a cashiers’ check. Or, cheque if you’re Hispanic or at all European… or Satan. I always pictured Satan as someone who would spell it “cheque”.
Lastly, I love my brother. He was on the way to the head when I called him, suffered through the bladder-pain for an entire 30 minutes, and… get this… did not pee while on the phone with me. I’m a simple man with simple pleasures which make me happy. There are certain simple things you can do to make me happy. Don’t take a piss or drop a rat when I’m on the phone with you, and we’ll be forever friends.
That was my day. How was yours?