Now that I have my new baby, I’ve been wandering around the web looking for things to hop it up with. I’ve already put my logo on as a start-up screen thanks to what I found here. If you’re interested, this is what does the logos.
Frighteningly, I also ran across this page. Now I’m being reeeeeeally careful.
Like everything in my life, this site is constantly being re-worked. Take a look at the recent site news before you start wondering about the various little oddities you find. This is my first little announcement to the “recently updated” sites, as I figured better late than never. Well, not never. Maybe “better late than at some later point in time which could still be varied to an even later or possibly earlier date.”
Read more
Well, I just picked up an advance screening pass for Punch-Drunk Love, and after reading the back of the pass, I’m a little worried. Ominous portents fill its backside, much like Al Roker at a chili cook-off.
Read more
Well, even though I haven’t done a lot of posting (today excluded), I’m getting a lot of work done behind the scenes. All of the various links work now (as far as I know), except the “About” link. I’m still trying to think of witty things to say.
I’m in the process of going back and editing the old Blogger posts, adding categories to them and deleting out the irrelevant stuff. I still need to re-work the error pages, so Astro’s still lurking out there if you try going in the wrong place. There are still many many improvements to come and I’m slowly getting into the swing of writing again, so keep checking back!
“Salisbury Peach Girl! How are you!”
– overheard while walking past a homeless person yesterday. I’m hoping he was talking to the gal in front of me.
So I’m walking to work today and I realize I’m following this girl wearing one of those fashions I have yet to understand – jeans with bleached out stripes. Granted, I wore my fair share of acid-wash back in the day. Never much got into the torn jeans thing, other than when I was really small, but then it was because I was tired of Mama Moondoggie putting rainbow patches on the rips.
Read more
Originally written while I was in the dentist’s office last week
You know, sometimes it’s strange how people often don’t think about their surroundings. For instance, I’m currently sitting here at the dentist’s office waiting for a cleaning (insert oral hygeine joke). They scheduled an 11:00 for me, but it was really an 11:30. Another Astro was here already, getting work done, then returning to the waiting room. They come back to call him in, just saying “Astro.” He goes back and I wonder what’s going on. This is when they finally tell me the time screw-up.
Read more
Got a few more things fixed last night. Now if my webhost will just stay up and running for 24 hours straight, I can do more things to the site. Just got back from the dentist, so I’m a little woozy from the massive amount of blood loss. More to come after I drink some juice.
Well, here it is, a month short of one year from the last time I’ve stood out here and talked to everyone. I don’t quite remember when I took the site down for a redesign, since it was so long ago, but I’m finally nearing completion. Today is a momentous day for me, another start to a new life. These things tend to happen often to me, but I’m hoping this new life is a good one and that it sticks. Yes, I know that’s pretty cryptic, but I’m trying to hurry up and write something so I can go home. Consider that comment the cliffhanger before the commercial.
Read more
Let’s talk about being scared. Well, again. It’s been a bit since I’ve written anything in here, so I should give a little background as to what’s been going on in your favorite Moondoggie’s life.
So I was out in Boston in mid-October, visiting the glorious Barb, love of my life. I come back home from a great almost-week to find the back door to my house open. Yes, my house had been broken into. Somehow, that doesn’t sound descriptive enough. Let’s try this: my house was broken into and my state of well-being had been anally raped. Yeah, that sounds a little closer.
The bastards didn’t get very much – looks like something scared them away in the process. The kind officer told me I’m more than likely not the one who did it, as this would probably have happened during the day as that’s when most residences are knocked over. Of course, a few minutes later as we’re walking the house, he gives me this worried look and asks if I’ve already looked through the house to see if they’re still here.
And oh, how I wanted them to still be here. Just a few prized moments with them before the police arrived, that’s all I asked. Alas, it was not to be as the cowards hightailed it out of there with a DVD player, a VCR, and half of my DVD collection. Like I said, they didn’t get very much, but it’s the violation that just kills you. Not to mention paying the insurance deductible. There’s no such thing as a victimless crime, kiddies.
So now I’m developing a nifty little obsessive-compulsive disorder to cope. Before I leave the house, every door inside must be shut. When I go to sleep, every door but the bedroom is shut, and I have a nice little Home Alone/Rube Goldberg alarm system going on. Not to mention my little arsenal next to my bed. No firearms or such – we’re talkin’ blunt instruments, baby – a gun’s too good for ’em. I find myself slipping into a specific routine to keep myself sane. To get back a little peace of mind.
Of course, since I’m exceedingly forgetful (my lawsuit against Memento is still pending), occasionally I don’t remember that I haven’t gone through all of the steps for whatever reason. This is why the habits must be formed. Last night I scared the bejeezus out of myself because I had forgotten to shut the door to the laundry room before going to sleep.
My latest fright was about an hour ago. I had left the door to my office open, since I was just going to take a short nap. It’s right around the corner from my bedroom, and since I left the monitor on, it lights up my bedroom door when darkness falls. Darkness dropped, and everything would’ve been fine. That is, if I didn’t have my hockey girdle (the big black shorts) hanging on the office door to dry. Imagine living alone, then waking up to find someone looming in the doorway, arms raised above their heads. If it helps, add in bad eyesight and no glasses. That’s what I thought too – “Holy FUCK!”
Latest interesting way my mind works: as soon as I saw the evil looming person, I realized it was the shadow of my hockey girdle being thrown onto the door. The part that realized this lives in .000001% of my brain, right by the ear. It told me I shouldn’t panic, but you know how mob scenes can get – it was more than a little overwhelmed.
So now I sit here, a couple more years removed from my life, though as Denis Leary says, they’re taken off of the bad part – the end. Here I had always thought it was the smell of my hockey gear that would kill me. Turns out it’s the shadows I have to watch out for.
Time to go watch some TV.