Your cocktail sir,





2005-02-15 - 9:56 p.m.

I've had chili two nights in a row.

Something is rotten, and it's not in Denmark.

I seem to have sucked myself into a Lego cult. Where people build things that are related to sci-fi universes and there are all kinds of new terms to learn. ROTS means Revenge of the Sith, while OT means Original Trilogy. There's more, but I'm not that versed yet and wouldn't want to make any mistakes that could later come back to haunt me.

Much like this entry, I'm sure.

The big thing with all this newfound online fellowship is that I find myself participating on a bulletin board for the first time in my life. So far, I'm lurking, because I wouldn't want to make some retarded novice mistake, but we shall see.

All of this decent into dorkdom really means that I have finally given up on any chance of ever finding love/happiness in this world, and so, like many other 30 year old overweight white men, I will create some fictional persona who can blast a snargrak with his lazer pistol to save the Orion Slave Girl, assuming the die are with me. Oh yeah.

I suppose that this shift was inevitable, since my move back home. There is no real push to make myself look good. Even if I did, there really isn't anyplace to go be seen or to see. That doesn't involve wranglers or someone's boxer shorts. I don't have anyone or anyreason to dress up for. Which was always something that I cared about. But no longer. Pfit. It's gone. Like that alien I dispatched with my phazer. Instead of turning it onto myself. I will merely retreat more into my loft, and my Lego collection will start to take up most of my time. A plastic menagarie to amuse and entertain while the world goes on by.

Now, if I could only get a job in tech support......

previous - next

Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

- - 2007-07-11

Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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