Update time, HO! Hey, that motivated the Thundercats. I might as well try it.
The last time we saw our hero--yes, me--he was preparing for or just returning from Las Vegas, tired, dejected and also giddy. If you can tell me how all those things are supposed to work, let me know. I just called the feeling "pukey".
I don't actually remember when I last wrote and I'm too lazy to maneuver my mouse over the blogger link all the way up in my bookmarks toolbar to find out. I know it was in December, right after two advertisers had paid me, because I distinctly remember yelling "YOINK!" after getting paid and cashing out. I'd say they got their money's worth.
I'm typing this from my brand new Acer Aspire One 8'9" netbook. I'd attempt to throw a link in there, but since I can't do anything using our speedy T-1 line at work(except for Startribune.com, oh woe is me), I'm tethering my Pearl and using that as a modem, which is only slightly quicker than stapling my post to a crippled chicken and hoping it winds up on the internet somehow. Slightly. With any luck, you may read this in the year 2012.
I didn't really need a new computer, but as I'm getting older and my manual dexterity is decreasing, and my eyesight ain't what she used to be, I thought, why not? Why not buy the damn thing when I have to press my nose against the screen to see the font, and it takes 15 hours to type 1000 words because I'm constantly mistyping with the small keys, and when I go to backspace, I'm actually just hitting \\\\\ more than I should, and that means I have to hit backspace that much more.
Not functional, but by golly it is cute.
Is anyone else ready for Spring? Myself, I'm ready for Sprummer--that time in Minneapolis where all the patios open, but it's not so hot that you sweat balls just sitting there. And coming from someone that has overactive sweat glands, not sweating balls is an important determination in what I do.
Summer really can't get here soon enough, because you know what, people? I'm turning into fleshy, gooey outline of my former self. I used to laugh at people that blamed beer for their weight gain, and to some extent I still do; when those people are drinking light beer. I could drinking liters upon liters of light beer and not gain a damn pound, but ever since I decided to become an elitist beer prick and drink "good beer", I totally understand the weight gain thing. 8 beers at 200+ calories a piece? Lard-oh is me.
Give me another two years and I'll be the fat guy that shows up in Vegas and goes buffet hopping instead of bar hopping. Wheeeeeze.
Molly and I are currently in the slow, slow process of finding another place to live, and that's always fun and not stressful in the least. She might tell you differently, but the only redeeming factors in our place now is that the rent (for a decently sized 2 bedroom) is less than I paid in my downtown 1 bedroom, and the location. Other than that it's a complete and utter shit hole.
I'd like to be able to brew, but after many failed attempts at stovetop brewing, even though I'd want to brew outside, I've learned that our stove can't boil one fucking gallon of water, let alone the 6 gallons I want to brew. I went so far as to take apart a burner, but I got water inside the damn thing and it took two days of worrying and "Don't use that burner!" with not explanation the the girlfriend as to why, before the damn thing finally fired up. Yeah, fun times.
So, yeah, moving. Great. If any of my friendly readers, or just people reading this, want to help me lift a couch with two recliners in it, I've got plenty of beer.
(My god, is this what my blog really was? Lame updates on my life that nobody will, or should, care about? Amazing that I didn't quit sooner!)
The last time we saw our hero--yes, me--he was preparing for or just returning from Las Vegas, tired, dejected and also giddy. If you can tell me how all those things are supposed to work, let me know. I just called the feeling "pukey".
I don't actually remember when I last wrote and I'm too lazy to maneuver my mouse over the blogger link all the way up in my bookmarks toolbar to find out. I know it was in December, right after two advertisers had paid me, because I distinctly remember yelling "YOINK!" after getting paid and cashing out. I'd say they got their money's worth.
I'm typing this from my brand new Acer Aspire One 8'9" netbook. I'd attempt to throw a link in there, but since I can't do anything using our speedy T-1 line at work(except for Startribune.com, oh woe is me), I'm tethering my Pearl and using that as a modem, which is only slightly quicker than stapling my post to a crippled chicken and hoping it winds up on the internet somehow. Slightly. With any luck, you may read this in the year 2012.
I didn't really need a new computer, but as I'm getting older and my manual dexterity is decreasing, and my eyesight ain't what she used to be, I thought, why not? Why not buy the damn thing when I have to press my nose against the screen to see the font, and it takes 15 hours to type 1000 words because I'm constantly mistyping with the small keys, and when I go to backspace, I'm actually just hitting \\\\\ more than I should, and that means I have to hit backspace that much more.
Not functional, but by golly it is cute.
Is anyone else ready for Spring? Myself, I'm ready for Sprummer--that time in Minneapolis where all the patios open, but it's not so hot that you sweat balls just sitting there. And coming from someone that has overactive sweat glands, not sweating balls is an important determination in what I do.
Summer really can't get here soon enough, because you know what, people? I'm turning into fleshy, gooey outline of my former self. I used to laugh at people that blamed beer for their weight gain, and to some extent I still do; when those people are drinking light beer. I could drinking liters upon liters of light beer and not gain a damn pound, but ever since I decided to become an elitist beer prick and drink "good beer", I totally understand the weight gain thing. 8 beers at 200+ calories a piece? Lard-oh is me.
Give me another two years and I'll be the fat guy that shows up in Vegas and goes buffet hopping instead of bar hopping. Wheeeeeze.
Molly and I are currently in the slow, slow process of finding another place to live, and that's always fun and not stressful in the least. She might tell you differently, but the only redeeming factors in our place now is that the rent (for a decently sized 2 bedroom) is less than I paid in my downtown 1 bedroom, and the location. Other than that it's a complete and utter shit hole.
I'd like to be able to brew, but after many failed attempts at stovetop brewing, even though I'd want to brew outside, I've learned that our stove can't boil one fucking gallon of water, let alone the 6 gallons I want to brew. I went so far as to take apart a burner, but I got water inside the damn thing and it took two days of worrying and "Don't use that burner!" with not explanation the the girlfriend as to why, before the damn thing finally fired up. Yeah, fun times.
So, yeah, moving. Great. If any of my friendly readers, or just people reading this, want to help me lift a couch with two recliners in it, I've got plenty of beer.
(My god, is this what my blog really was? Lame updates on my life that nobody will, or should, care about? Amazing that I didn't quit sooner!)
