May 1, 2007
Ew, someone asked me if I was an acquired taste. That’s like kissing your sister is what it is. Of course I was offended, it doesn’t take much, and immediately returned fire rat-tat-tat: Me? An acquired taste? How posh! Then he said, See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t know if you’re being flip, funny, angry or what. You’re too obtuse. Obtuse! What a wanker! (I fully realized I was in the grips of a fake British accent thing, but decided to go with it rather than risk the fabulous momentum I had going at the time). Blimey, dude! I gasped. And that was about it. We weren’t going to be friends, I could see that.
May 3, 2007
Have to go out of town today, down the valley, up some hills, over a dale. It will be a beautiful drive, because British Columbia is beautiful, and I will notice this beauty because I am an artist, and a gourmand of the senses. Haw! Ta.
May 4, 2007
The office is flat. Some are just going through the motions. Entropy lurks. So we hired a company daredevil. That’s right, we put a daredevil on staff to get the place all jazzed up and a little bit excited, heck, maybe even get an office pool going to honor last month’s tragedy.
Meet Fred “I’ll jump off of anything” Archibald, seen here last week leaping from the infamous Tahitian Widowmaker. Fred will start work in eight months after the broken back thing gets fused, the artificial knees get installed, and the cranial plate “adjusts" (oh, and assuming he can find a spleen donor). He promises that his first leap back will be memorable and worth the wait. We’re betting on it, Fred!
May 6, 2007
I’m swearing out loud, typing away, when I hear these lovely low gerbling sounds outside my office window. There, under the bird feeder are pheasants and quail, hunting and pecking and talking to themselves. It was so beautifully rural. I turned away, ready to go back to my own hunting and pecking and talking to myself... Hey, wait a minute.
May 7, 2007
Exercising minimal discrimination, I took 308 pictures this morning, one of which I had hoped to post here, but nothing turned my crank. End of story.
May 8, 2007
Suddenly the planet is flooded with frustration! My e-mails cry foul! I’m actually called a tease by some guy named Brian from Edmonton. Why? Because I didn’t post a picture yesterday. Ok, I’m a fool. Here’s number 22 out of 308, a snap of our place in Spring.
May 9, 2007
Grrrr, telemarketing scum on my phone just now. If only someone would invent a phone where you can reach through the handset and throttle the jerk on the other end. I’d buy one of those.
May 10, 2007
To live a life of conscious intent, you must maintain an active inner dialogue. In other words, you must talk to yourself. It’s not a sign of being crazy (although it can be; use your discretion here), instead, ironically, it’s the source of sound mental health. You’re the one living inside your head. Who else are you going to listen to? Heck, I do it all the time. Talk to myself. Look how healthy I am.
May 11, 2007
-- Shark! 5 o’clock!
-- Look at that beast!
-- Oh why did we wear the red jumpsuits today! We probably look like 4 little shrimps to that monster!
-- I don’t want to be eaten!
-- Relax boys, I believe that’s a lone Balkan Circle shark. He can’t possibly create a vortex all by himself. I say we got nothin’ to worry about.
-- Yeah, then why you shaking so much?
-- Hey, you’re making the boat tippy!
-- As senior member of this group, I’m forced to point out that the easiest way to capsize a small craft is by standing up in it.
-- I don’t want to be eaten!
-- As senior member of this group-
-- Stuff it man, we’re about to be eaten!
In order to protect all the little children who come to this site, I'm afraid we're going to have to cut it off here, nor am I going to show you the next gruesome picture in this series where the whale dives under the boat and lifts it out of the sea, shaking all four tasty little shrimps into the water for a quick, happy meal. Since we’re not going to do that, I guess this is it.
May 12, 2007
My but you’re a twisted bunch. Ok, due to overwhelming demand and numerous abusive e-mails (do I really need Brian from Edmonton busting my chops?), I am going to show you the final picture of this sick photo essay. Remember, you asked for it.
May 13, 2007
In a tantrum of blustering babble, Bush “the decider” declares himself to now be Bush “the commander guy”. America, a child is running the country. An idiot child is running the country. Isn’t it only a matter of time before "commander guy" ups the delusion to "emperor guy"? What then? Wake up. Act now.
May 14, 2007
If today were a color it would be red.
May 16, 2007
The Internet used to be fun. Now it’s a morass of cease and desist orders, copyright infringement cases, and clueless politicians shilling for old media whores by enacting proprietary legislation against the Internet users’ best interest – which by the way, will be the entire world at some point. But I want to help. I want to inform those who don’t get it, where it’s all going. Ahem. For those who can’t see it, the digital future will include no copyright, complete open sharing of all data, and unfettered communication over the entire planet – a true World Wide Web. The Internet will be a pervasive, freely available, living thing waaaay bigger than ignorant politicians, corporate greediness, and old media models that will either adapt and join or wither and die. Heck, maybe it'll be fun again. Wouldn’t that be something.
May 17, 2007
Sofia was lounging around the pool at the villa on the Mediterranean, remembering her life before Rodrigo, her handsome Argentinean industrialist playboy who spoke not a word of English, but was fluent in the language of love, back when she was a hardworking Hooters girl in Albany, in the winter, when her white go go boots would get all yucky from the slush.
Back when she was known as Amber, before she invented Sofia.
May 18, 2007
Isn’t my head swelled! And to sandwich me in between such legends! Air kisses to everybody!
May 19, 2007
I’m mowing the lawn today. It might rain. I’m taking a big chance. I could get half way through and it could pour. Wouldn’t that look stupid, half the lawn mowed. Like I said, big chance. All right, here goes. Ta.
May 20, 2007
Only got half the lawn mowed, not because of rainfall, but because a friend came over with a case of Corona and we sat and talked about whether the lawn looked stupid half mowed. I believe we came to the conclusion that mowing haltage due to cerveza makes a partially mowed lawn look quite acceptable. After a few more, beautiful. Half a case later, it was an art protest against society’s dream of perfection in suburbia. It was only the next day that the lawn looked stupid again.
May 22, 2007
Somebody called me a cult-like figure, a shadowy cult-like figure. Can you believe that guy?! Like I would ever be so primitive as to urge any of my loyal and devoted, nay precious, followers into some sordid, juvenile, retributional payback thingy (Get him! All of you! Get him now! ) just because of a little criticism, you know? I can brush that stuff off (Now! All of you as one!). Oh, and while I’m at it, I want to address that other guy who said I was using subliminal messages in my posts (NOWWWWW!). That's crazy talk! I mean, really.
May 23, 2007
You know when you’re stressed silly and freaked out and running around like a possessed devil person trying to accomplish everything at once while alienating everybody and killing yourself in the process? Stop!
Take a deep breath.
Take a moment to stare.
May 24, 2007
Susan and I are contemplating a road trip with the dogs. Gas prices be damned. Literally.
May 25, 2007
“Then the mime said to the bartender, Make mine a double!”
May 26, 2007 Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
May 28, 2007 I’ve got a day jammed packed with things to do. As for our time together here, it’s much too short and not very sweet but I’ll think of you always and miss you forever. Will too. Ta.
May 29, 2007
P u b l i c S e r v i c e A n n o u n c e m e n t
Living a life of deliberate intention is the way to go. Doing it the opposite way is an accident waiting to happen.
This public service announcement has been brought to you by the concerned folkery at Keith Ryan Publishing, where we believe that your welfare is much too important to leave up to you, and should instead be left up to us, where we can be with you every step of the way, despite what that restraining order says.
May 31, 2007 I was asked in an interview what was so special about me. I thought it was a trick question. I told her that everything about me is special, as it is for all of us, because everyone is unique. Aren’t you full of yourself, she clucked. Because I love myself? Hey, I have a great life because I love myself. What's wrong with that? I suggested that if she loved herself as much as I love myself, she would know exactly what I’m talking about. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t. She clucked again. What do you think? Too over the top?