chemoboy
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
K00l
If only I smoked I'd be getting this for my computer. I suppose I could plug my CD player into it.
Sunday, July 20, 2003
Friday, July 18, 2003
Thursday, July 17, 2003
Asciimatrix
I like ascii art. Probably because I'm such a big geek I even dream in ascii sometimes (not really). Turning real pictures into ascii is cool, but turning a movie into ascii is even cooler. Especially if it is The Matrix.
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
Google WMD
A few months back I had a joke 404 error page on this blog. Now it has become the top result when searching for Weapons of Mass Destruction on Google. So much so, that the big Google antagonist The Guardian is even talking about it. Thanks to everyone for bringing the irony of our situation to such a humorous point. Now when most people think of WMDs nowadays, they think of the incompetance of our government.
Tuesday, July 15, 2003
The Lords of the Rhymes
If Adam Yauch and Mike Diamond had been slightly more into Tolkien, they probably would have made songs that sounded a little more like this. Be sure to check out the video from these two mad rappers from hobbiton. I'm still waiting for the CD. Rivendell in the muthafuckin' house!
Monday, July 14, 2003
Going to Harvard would have been worth this
Will Ferrell is a complete nutjob. He either does too many drugs or not enough, but the verdict is still out on that. Still, it may have been worth 4 (or 5, or 6, whatever) years at Harvard just to see his commencement speech.
Saturday, July 12, 2003
hsuB Bush
I always have to check out a BlogSpot blog whenever I see one. Is turningtables really a US soldier? Not sure it matters, it's still an interesting read.
Friday, July 11, 2003
What the hell
I don't really read my own blog, but has it really been two months between my last post and the one prior? Perhaps I need an explanation.
I have been working, and not on Blogger. There has always been something to do, and it's not having to do with Blogger. Try as I might to push the blogging, it is barely sticking on my comrades. Sticking like a wet spaghetti strand to the ceiling. Just waiting for it to fall so you know how long it took to cook the damn spaghetti in the first place.
So pfff to you.
Wednesday, July 09, 2003
It's been a while, right
Outside, the sun is bright but waning. The patchouli-chicks and shaggy-guys are shambling, stoned, towards their Mecca. Their Phish show. The breeze is still and the sky is clear. The smell of pot wafts over the hills like an invisible, stinky fog.
Inside, the toddlers are wailing and tugging at my sleeves. The lava lamp pulses and moves, mocking my stillness silently. Dancing like a hippy to a jam. The florescent lights hum the only song they know. The only smell that has made it through the powerful air filters that constantly clean spent breath is the cleaning solution slopped on the bathroom floor by a man who I see every day but who's name I do not know.


