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...when we do the Bristol Stomp


My stomach is clenched up like a fist, making me think I'm either not going to be able to stop thinking about it, or I'm going to throw up.
In fact, it's feeling so bad, I'm thinking of forcing myself to throw up just to get some relief.
The mental masturbation that goes on so frequently in debate disturbs me a little.
Everyone has their points to prove and it's rare that anyone concedes a point, changes their mind, or lets themself learn something. It's just getting weirder over the last couple days.
I mean ... a post that started out asking why all societies seem to be so male dominated throughout history, and if that means anything ended up devolving into 200 posts about wether or not an opinion can be wrong.
It's boggling.

I just downloaded a huge critical updates package yesterday and IE 6 (which annoys the hell out of me with it's cookie blocker popping up over and over no matter how many times I tell it to not tell me this again) and now there's another critical update.
Bleh.

Does anyone actually read service agreements?

Lawnmower Man is on. Chad loves that movie. I think it's an interesting update of Flowers for Algernon. But of course... the play is a hell of a lot more innocent.


My mom was telling me about a comic she had when she was younger. It was called Mary Jane and Sniffle, and it was about a little girl and her pet mouse, Sniffle.
Whenever she wanted to play with the mouse, she would say the magic words:

"Poof Poof Piffle
Make Me Just As Small As Sniffle"

And then she would shrink down to his size and they'd go off and have adventures together.
I can't find any information on it, but I haven't looked too deeply yet. All I really want is a picture or something....
I have a feeling that my kids will someday look at me the way I look at my mom sometimes with the bizarre things she remembers. Because, well, I remember things... like dialogue from movies I've only seen once. Or plots to books I only read parts of. And I've read A LOT of books. Most of them not really relevant to any larger pop culture thing.
Hell, the number of people who don't remember the Great Space Coaster already baffles me.
HOW CAN YOU NOT REMEMBER THAT?

Hmmm.. the only reference to it I can find online is here, and that really isn't very heartening as those are just random quotes pulled from some sort of RPG session which anyone who knows me knows my opinion on because, chances are, I've ranted about it at you before.

And about 300 places online claim to be an authority on EnglishToAmerican language. ALL of them think it's the juciest lil tidbit of info they could tell you that "poof" is a UK idiom for flouny guy.

My father tells jokes... laughs... walks away like that's all.. but then looks over his shoulder for about 20 feet to check to see if you're laughing as heartily as he thinks you should be. It's an unfortunate truth that this is part of the genetic pool from which I was spawned.

Wouldn't it be nice if we all had Mister Brady for a dad?
I mean ... look at him.



He wouldn't care if you called him Mike instead of dad. He'd understand when you came home, reeking of beer and weed. He'd give you a dissapointed shake of the head and let you know that you'd let him down instead of stripping off his belt and beating you with the buckle for half an hour. He'd let you know that we all make mistakes and the plate is replaceable instead of telling you what a moronic fuck up you are if you broke a dish.

He'd be a stand up guy.
You can just see it in his face.

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