What a lovely day...

Just went out to lunch with Brian. We were ruminating on the weather and how nice it would be to be sitting outside eating ice cream looking at Puget Sound. Or stitting at a bar with a patio. Granted, this weather is bad for the power crunch that we apparently are in, but I figger, how often does Seattle get nice weather in January? Nice meaning 55 degrees nice. I was in New York in December '98, and it was in the upper 70s. That was odd. Suited me fine though.

Anyway, work isn't as shite-y as I thought it might be. I suppose I should be working and not LiveJournaling. What a novel idea.

Haiku of the day:

Spectacular sun
You be the baddest star here
Shine on, muh'fucker

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All the paper and files on my desk look a hell of a lot more interesting when I cross my eyes. Everything becomes fuller and richer, if not a little blurry.

Don't Break My Back, My Achy-Breaky Back...

My lower back is killing me right now. I must not be sitting correctly. Then again I never really do. My hands and wrists have been giving me problems too. All this typing is taking it's toll on me. I suppose that's what I get for being a desk jockey. I could go back to moving office furniture, but my back would just hurt from lifing heavy shit all day. And I'd get paid half of what I do now. That doesn't seem like a good enough trade-off.

I'm too young to feel this old. Fetch me my walker.

Oh yeah - one other thing. I apologize for paraphrasing Billy Ray Cyrus. It seemed like it was appropriate at the moment.

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FUCK!

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Fucking piece of shit fucking computers and fucking programs and fuckinf passwords and fucking security clearances and ajiogjioagrjggj oaag j


Grrr. All I want to do is copy from one place and paste it into another. But I can't. And it sucks. And I'm mad. Stupid fucking piece of fucking shit.

Wow. I just swore a lot.

Calling all indie rock geeks, hipsters, Romulans, heshers, et al.

You must see The Indiequirer.

Think a punk Onion.

Thank you, Stacy.

Imyr, Marshmallow

Mellow night. My back still hurts. Anna got her CD burner working. We're in trouble.

Stacy: I talked to Anna after she talked to you. I hope you're doing OK. I would have called but it's getting sorta late and I didn't want to wake Cece up or anything. Email me tomorrow if you're still in Seattle.