윤

Game biz claims another “winner”. We’ll always have screenshots:

Funny how things turn out: the Stargate MMO never makes it, and STO lies unopened in my drawer. Story reminds me of Earth 2 (again), and I wonder how effective it’ll be in a persistent world, but I’m sold on Amazon’s pre-order bonus.

Was inspired by this amusing (though trite) post to steal the artwork and repeat my observations about life in the 35-mph lane:

What’s the message here, folks, that the only way to go is with the flow?

The times they certainly are a-plenty of them, and I thought I might use the opportunity to implement one here, too, transferring everything to X’s beta site, but even that undertaking, involving a WordPress reinstall and possible theme re-tool, proved too much for my diminishing drive.

Oh, I’d been tempted to update, especially with developments like these——not to mention some trademark quips about the Lost finale, but forums sufficed. So let’s fire her up again, and hope that my brain doesn’t go the way of my car battery (which I wrestled with for an hour last night before giving up trying to get past the starter and left crud under my fingernails I couldn’t completely wash out to burp and change the baby; other parents want theirs to be doctors, lawyers, President, and I’d be happy with an auto mechanic).

Very un-Larry David of me not to continue my fight against a ticket I got in Laguna Beach because, after all, driving down there for the hearing, much less parking, would’ve cost me almost the same amount of money as paying the fucking fine. No wonder he owns a Prius. And has nothing better to do.

This guy also reminds me of that CYE episode with the ass photo.

House has felt lacking this season, maybe because of the haste with which they’ve been dispensing with character developments—his breakup with Wilson lasted only a few weeks, and he shows as much remorse for his dead ex as George did for Susan; the romance with Cuddy, Cameron taking over, all wrapped up in under one—and an unmemorable episode sought to entertain during the usual life-or-death storyline with only a demonstration of his petulance when the plumbing went out at home. Anyway, turned out he caused the damage himself, and in a moment as close as I’d like to enter his world (wish for it, and I’m sure to be diagnosed with lupus), I racked up a $250 bill myself today for a house call of my own. Run the shower and the novelty head, installed as my first act of home ownership, leaks calcium onto the shiny new tub faucet …just like it did the old one.

Only me. My hoodie’s pockets aren’t very deep, and can’t be relied upon for the securest support of their contents, but as it’s become my trademark garment lately (much as my surplus store pea coat was in my senior year of high school), I’ve taken to removing it only in the two places you’d expect a cartoon character to divest—the shower and the marriage bed, as the zipper might disfigure 老婆—and the tight office bathroom stalls are certainly no exception. The likely result of the combination of these factors is, of course, an aquatic disaster the kind which struck me this afternoon and may have been worse if not for the intervention of two more coincidences: that I had just finished reading up on the latest in Apps on the iPhone and returned it, instinctively with firmer placement, into the opposite side, loosening the BlackBerry’s position; and my meal-and-a-half at Chipotle had produced such a stink that I re-flushed to respect the afternoon traffic and the water was fresh. Not that it even crossed my mind as I plunged my hand in for the rescue and rested the wet case on my lap as I swabbed off every accessible surface with all the paper off the roll. There wasn’t any power loss, at least until I pulled the battery, and although the red X’s on its moisture-indicating sticker do seem to have bled slightly, thank goodness for the excuse that rainy season makes. And an abundant supply of extras from downsizing.

If the economy’s shit, then Rhode Island must be one of the last stops in the plumbing. My inquisitive substitute hygienist mentioned her visit there, and I couldn’t help but interrupt her scraping with my dismal outlook for the Ocean State. (Well, it worked. For me.) Seems I might’ve used this once-proud freeway ziggurat as evidence, too. Was a time when their aisles were full of desirable merchandise, and in the back was a Newport Creamery where I was introduced to the delicacies of vinegar on hot french fries and chocolate jimmies on vanilla ice cream, respectively. None of which, by the way, is available at Wal-Mart.

…unless I bump my “IMAGES” one again, which’ll make it one less. No wait, that was last updated in December. And since I tire of restricting entries to single topics, here’s the month-end wrap-up:

Cartoon Network’s The Brave and the Bold, which doesn’t make me forgive them for cancelling Justice League, but almost does, as long as they keep ’em coming with scenes like last night’s “Brain vs. brawn” that must have been inspired by Doom Patrol’s; beats Battlestar Galactica’s season-filling politics, that’s for sure
Two months into my fitness program, I’m 13,782 calories behind and my Nike+ sensor just died
That awesome giant shoe (really, Reuters, an “Oddly Enough”?), like something out of Monty Python or Hitchhiker’s Guide, went up then came down, quickly dashing the chicken hawks’ predictions of monuments to Bush in Iraq
Grant Morrison’s crisis is finalized; Batman may be the shit, but Superman is God. Again
Fuck the $100 wireless adapter, I got sharing to work, and the Xbox 360 lives again—well, for as long as people supply me with codes for free months of Live
윤대섭 is a septuagenarian today

I wish I knew how to quit you, because it doesn’t look like it’ll be by running. As of yesterday, I’m 2656.5 calories down. (What can I say, it’s been cold and rainy the past few mornings.) Maybe an obesity tax is in order?