Justin got an invite to a warehouse type of party, and I tagged along. I stopped over at his place around 9:15, and we chatted a while. Before we left, we did a tea cup worth of whiskey to keep warm, then headed out. Here we are, WAY too early and only a few others…
I read over the card, and I go to sit down in the living room. I’m utterly fucking speechless. I’m looking over the card, all the names of the people who have contributed, and letting it slowly sink in. All this is from seven people I’ve met online. They heard about the break-in, and felt…
So I get home, and get my mail. Funny – there’s this strange card in an envelope. Not something I expected. Too late for my birthday, too early for Christmas. I go inside. When I open the envvelope (trying to figure out who sent me what) I pull out a card. I open the card,…
Left to right, Jon (schubee), me, Jeff (persist) and Matt (Tha.Riddla).
Jon (schubee) and Melissa were in town today, and a bunch of us Internet folks gathered together for a meal. Everyone met up outside of Monk’s for lunch, and we spent a pleasant (albeit crowded and noisy) hour plus there. In attendance: me, Justin, Ben, Jeff (persist), Matt (Tha.Riddla), schubee and Melissa (mrs. schubee). Lunch…
First, the bait. I stopped in at Artisan (where Ben, Justin and I all go to get our coffee fix most mornings). I picked up a delicious box of 16 chocolate truffles (each one is different), so as to sway people to sign my uh… "petition." The actual makers of the truffles are CocoRouge. And…
I’m super excited by Halloween. I really need to go to sleep, since I need to get up in a short amount of time so I can get my costume in order. The weekend’s going to be nutty. I’ve got a ton of work yet to do for one of our Austin stations, schubee is…
I am now a part of that prestigous group of people who have posted a picture of themselves on the Internet, with a blow-up sex doll. I thank you.
I spot this, in the Green Room:
by Felix Jung I should have been a sculptor, shaping stone until it feels as smooth as muscled flesh. What better work can possibly survive me? Poets have it wrong: all language changes, ink dissolves, all paper fades the instant sunlight finds its skin. A hammer, chisel, candlelight: I’ll carve a monument, a statue for…
Mr. Grumpy and I had a chat about work, after work. I had brought stuff home with me, and was planning on working from home this evening. When I explained to Grumpy what I had in store this evening, he asked me: why? I stopped to think about my answer. After more of his questions,…
Over the weekend, I helped Stu set up a newer version of his site. He’s getting a lot of attention this week, and the whole Flash-based mail form thing was something I had never done before. I may end up adding something like that on the blog soon. Check out his photographs. There’s a few…