Monthly Archives: October 2003

Mis-matching memories

I've been living in Seattle now for just over a year, and in the past few weeks especially, I've started having strange deja-vu about streets, people, and places from Providence. Three times in the past week I've wanted to refer to the location of something as, “just down at the end of the street where it hits Wickendon.” There is no Wickendon St. here.

Two nights ago, I dreamt that Alex and I were riding STP again. The differences this time were that Mim was riding with us, and the course was twice as long.

Last night I dreamt I was starting to work here again, just outside Providence. I moved into my cubicle and started organizing things, when all of the important people in the company got together and had a big meeting around me, trying to decide exactly what my job was and which department I was working for. Thankfully the lunch bell rang (no, we didn't really have lunch bells there, but we did in my dream) and we all rushed off. The Admiral went out with me for lunch. We found my car in the parking lot, under 3 feet of snow, even though it was sunny and in the 80's that day. We drove up the hill (it all began resembling Seattle now) and accidentally drove into a large tent where the University of Washington marching band was practicing. We left. Found a quick bite to eat and headed back. When I got back to my desk, I gathered up my things, walked over to my manager and quit.

Cycling then drunk then cycling

Good luck to Alex as he sets out on the Ride for the Roses in Austin. Glad to hear he's sticking with the established monathletic rules of a two-drink minimum before participating.

Yesterday was an exciting day on the Burke-Gilman. In my haze returning late last night, I wrote a short comment about it on Alex's page here. It was the first major bicycle wreckage I've witnessed ever, I think. As I passed the paramedics tending to the rider, I glanced back and saw the left half of his face looked way too much like Admiral Ackbar.

Of course, Saturday was game day at the UW, so for a 2-3 mile section of the trail, it was mobbed with football fans, students, drunkards, and cheerleaders. Or all of the above, plus a lot of idiots. I guess it was good agility and reflex training on the bike. The highlight were the cheeleaders on skateboards on our ride back. Um, yeah.

As if the safety lesson and the long ride weren't enough, I still decided to hop on my cheap beater-bike, fixed-gear conversion and ride around town bar-hopping as I got more and more inebriated. When the pedals keep moving, it becomes incredibly hard to get your feet in the toe-clips… while drunk.

Thoughts we thunk while drunk

(the below snippets were remembered after a night of drinking and are entirely out of context)

S: “Has Jeb Bush stuck his tube in that girl's mouth yet?”

Feeding tube resources. Most common are G-tubes which enter straight into the stomach. There are also J-tubes which feed into the jejunum at the top of the small intestine. Another type is the NJ-tube, which enters the nose, down the throat, through the stomach and into the intestine. For people whose entire gastrointestinal systems no longer work, an IV is used and nutrients are pumped directly into an artery.

If I had my druthers I would have found a more interesting origin for the word.

Free download of the font made up of all corporate logo letters.

Shelley Jackson's Skin project. The first idea for a tattoo I've seriously considered.

C: “Bikes are really efficient”
L: “For a gas-powered vehicle a scooter ain't bad.”
S: “A scooter is like Chinese food and a bike is like the fortune cookie.”
C: “Because Chinese food gives you gas and fortune cookies are really efficient?”


C: “Forget hogging, tonight we're going coma-ing.”
C: “Ick, I just remembered that scene from Kill Bill.”

Jed, do you know the lyrics, or can you sing all of Snow – Informer? If so, please make a recording and send it to me.

All of the lyrics to Outkast's Hey Ya!

Some recent questions answered

Bicycles are incredibly efficient and in car terms are the equivalent of a 900 mile per gallon vehicle. These statistics do a nice job of illustrating many more bike/car comparisons around the world.

Many people know that seppuku or hari-kiri is the ritualistic act of suicide amongst Japanese samurai. Yeah, it has a few different forms and it's really complicated.

And yeah, you guys were right about Daylight Savings having nothing to do with farmers.

Curse Schmurse

When it comes to both the Cubs and the Sox now, it's sad to say, but they can't be blaming anyone but themselves. Sucks to say it, but yeah, they had their (multiple) chances and couldn't capitalize (this year). You put on a great show boys, and it was an amazing week of baseball. If nothing else, you brought a ton of unlikely baseball fans out of the woodwork to cheer for a game they hardly understood. To quote the drunken girls at the bar last night, “Derek Jeter has a small peeter! Yankees suck!”

Like many others I'll be boycotting the World Series, not just because I dislike the two teams there, but because it's got to be the most uninteresting matchup ever. It's like if Bill Gates played Ted Turner in a high-stakes poker match. It just DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER.

Cycle Messenger Worlds Video Teaser

Finally did a little something with the 3 1/2 hours of video footage I have from Cycle Messenger Worlds. I spent 2 hours, half-marvelling, half-grumbling over iMovie's simplicity, tossed some pieces together over the theme from the Kill Bill trailer and I give you a teaser: Take a look (7.5mb Quicktime).

Weblog spamming is cute

About six months ago a friend predicted that weblog comment spamming would be the next big thing, and here it has arrived. I've now gotten a total of 3 spammed comments on my site. One for a penis enlargement product (of course, they're always the ones leading the spam evolution), one for zip code maps and another for a foreign preteen site that appears to be offline now. Sorry, spammers, I deleted your comments, but I went and linked to your sites here instead. Hope you don't mind. That's probably the best part about the comments, is the names they enter as the author of the comment. With the Movabletype comment engine, the name is turned into the link to the website, so it works sort of like a Google bomb. So when I see I have comments by 'zip code maps' and 'preteen', I think, “hey, I haven't heard from 'zip code maps' in ages, I'm glad he found my site.” But again, I did the spammers a favor and linked to their sites in this post, using their own keywords. Just helping out where I can. I also like that they come with with silly little messages in the comment field like, “Hey folks, nice site you're running!” or, “Just another fan of your blog!” As if to disguise themselves as genuine comments. Thanks preteen! I didn't know you read my weblog! I could always start spamming the e-mail addresses they left in their info ( and C'mere little spambots, find those two addresses and harvest away.


The Movable type author posted some words about comment spamming yesterday, and some ideas at how to stop it. There are tons of Trackbacks (heh, and Trackback is causing some uproar as well) on the post, with people upset about the comment spamming they've received, and also plenty of people wishing their blog was more popular so they were spammed too.

And just so I don't give the spammers everything they're after (free links with their keywords), I think I'll link to their sites with a few more interesting keywords: FBI most wanted, George Bush, Fox News, preteen zip code, fair and balanced, Britney Spears, homeland security, Christian Coalition, RIAA, Verisign

Local late-night craziness

Three nights ago I went down to my local bar only to find that the entire intersection is swarming with people. Apparently a small gallery space was having it's opening across the street and it managed to attract all of the hipsters in town. Much of this crowd spilled over into the bar across the street, making it less of quiet hangout and more of a battle for elbow room. And then the band started… Playing on the the sidewalk, full volume, with the crowd spilling onto the streets. People standing on cars (not their own), climbing trees, and all of the neighbors out on the balconies. Halfway through the set, the police showed up. First it was one, who kept his distance about a block away. Then another, and another, and 5 more after that. 8 cop cars total. They let the band finish, and slowly and quietly dispersed the crowd. Very easy and quick crowd control. This unexpected excitement reminded me to always take my camera with me when I go out.

Two nights later, I head down to the same local bar to find the typical Thursday night crowd. Two of the owner/bartender dogs are wadering around, playing and begging for food. Someone tells me that the dogs had just shared half a pitcher of beer. One of the dogs manages to climb onto someones table, their playing gets more intense, and indeed they are drunk.

One of the owner's shared this quote from a couple years back, when an old friend came to visit his bar: “Man, this place is serious, even their dogs are drunk.”

Dreaming Nostalgia and Summer Camp

For the past 4 or 5 nights now I've had dreams of home, old friends and places I visited when I was younger. The longest and most vivid was a dream of the summer camp I used to visit during the summer. I had mixed feelings about the camp experience as a whole, and the kids I met there, but this dream managed to paint it all in the perfect light. The lake, the boathouse, the old cabins, dining hall, playing fields and the four-square courts.

The camp was broken up into 4 villages (by age), and each village had about 8 cabins, with 8 kids and 2 counselors in each. Each village had it's own four-square court and each court fit into an overall hierarchy of popularity and social prowess at the camp. The lowest rung was the oldest village's court, probably because it was quite a trek to get to, and besides, the majority of the camp was intimidated by all the big kids. Next was the youngest village court. It was slightly smaller than the others and on a wooden platform. Many people returned to it for a trip down memory lane. The second-tier court was the second youngest village, and the top tier court was the second oldest (Frontier Village) court. This was a large, concrete court, in a prime location. It was right along the main road through the camp, and it was close to the swim area and boat house. During lunch breaks and free time, the waiting line to get a chance at square one would wrap around the court and even past some of the cabins. Boys would feel like superheros if they could make it to the fourth square and hold the position for an entire length of the line.

Still searching

Some people still haven't found what they're looking for. Especially, those “eskimos in antarctica”.

46 total hits related to “elephant drawings” or “drawing elephants“. I really should set up a page that is the definitive internet resource on elephant drawing. Apparently there are people out there that demand it. There are also people that demand Nude Max Payne.

The month of September also yielded:

* le parkour deaths
* obey giant hoodie
* unblocked sexy pictures
* stp tacks
* bicycle hemmoroids
* guinness world record blowjob
* hipsters trust fund
* i want to see girl kissing girl
* marshmellow shoes
* love my alcoholic rage
* passivism
* pierced my ears wife
* pussy collections