Way Off

Living in Florida offers several advantages, most having to do with the weather. Unfortunately, like the flip side of a coin, the weather can go from "idyllic" to something out of a disaster movie: As I type this we are expecting Hurricane Ernesto to affect us right here in beautiful, idyllic Tampa Bay.
So....I gassed up (like everyone else) and got multi-bottles of water (like everyone else) and even got some spiced rum (like everyone else, hopefully).
I even got a multi-pack of Bumble-Bee tuna and chewy granola bars--in case the power goes out for more than a week.
This is "living"?
I can only hope the meterologists are way off in their forecast--that Ernesto fizzles out harmlessly in the Gulf of Mexico.
My greatest worry is that I am going to be without my favorite game, Battlefield 1942, for more than a week. God forbid.

Edit: Alberto was more hype than hurricane.
But it was good for conversation.

Least

Bouts of thinking. I go through bouts of thinking where anything is possible. Even the least likely events...
The most strikingly beautiful woman walked through the doors at work today and, predictably, did not want to flirt with me. She was much more interested in the Thermax ® brand of carpet cleaner we rent, so I obligingly gave her a tutorial on the fine art of suction and release. She seemed genuinely excited about getting her cleaner home after that, so I think my mission was successful.
In Patrick's world, this beautiful, Audrey-Hepburn-type girl would have marched right up to the counter and asked me to bed. Nevermind any small talk about the Thermax. Nevermind the "sign here/initial there" crap either. She would have jumped across the counter at the first sight of me. We'd be in each others' arms in seconds. Forty-five seconds later we'd be completely naked and no longer in each others' arms because we'd be arm-to-arm, making love.
The word 'naked' is such a goddamned sexy word. Especially describing someone like her. I think the word 'naked' is about as raw and candid and real as you can ever hope for in a word. It should only be used on someone like her! I realize I'm going overboard--but you only get to touch angels once or twice in your life, so back off.
Way off.

Good

I think we should only name hurricanes after celebrites.

The "good" ones at least.

EASY

A Texas man was watching a webcam based in England when he saw a crime unfold. He then contacted English police, who rushed to the scene and arrested three people. You can check out the story here.

Surreal. Unreal. The world is getting amazingly smaller.

It used to be somewhat easy committing crimes; now emerging technology is making it harder.

Good.

Salsa
(and lots of needless quotation marks)

I love salsa and I especially love that new specialty salsa with the black beans and corn. Mmm-mmm.
And I like it hot. Way hot. Too often supermarkets only carry the silly 'medium'--or worse--'mild' variety. Puh-leeze. Hand me a bowl of 'medium' salsa and you might as well call it 'mild,' since I can't tell the difference. Anyhoo....
If it ain't "hot," it's not up to my standards. Or at least my snuff. And my 'snuff' is that noise I make when I inhale, snottily, with both nostrils. Snuffffff.

SNOT

It's not a subject that I like to dwell on. Nevertheless, I referenced "snot" (abstractly) in the above argument so I want to prove that I'm not a complete slob by using the word in a completely different context right now. It must "transition" me out of here.

Snot what you're thinking.

Snot supposed to be easy.


Easy

Today my body is sore and stiff and achy and it's all due to a) the miserable summer heat in Florida and b) digging dozens of post holes in solid ground. (I put up signs for a commercial real estate company part-time.)
So I gave fair warning to my co-workers that I would be doing little more than shuffling around today and muttering about 'lack of sleep.' I need a gigantic bathtub to ooze into; then a bed with cool clean sheets to fall into.
Either that or start making the coffee right now. I feel a 10-cup'er coming on.

I don't know if there's ever been a more strange collection of stories on the Drudge Report than tonight. I love visiting the Drudge Report, I must admit. Some of these are mind-benders:
1. Hawaii UFO looked like a wayward missile...
2. MONKS BRAWL AT PEACE PROTEST...
3. Volcano Wipes Out 3 Villages in Ecuador...
4. 'Hybrid Mutant' Found Dead in Maine...
5. ABCNEWS 20/20 to air 'Last Days on Earth' special...
6. Illegal Immigrant Takes Refuge in Chicago Church...

The tone is definitely apocalyptical. Why are there so many apocalptic 'subscribers'? That's a topic for another post.

John Lennon was responsible for at least 2 people cracking up and murdering someone. The most notorious is Charles Manson, followed by Mark David Chapman.
John Lennon was a god. He was murdered by one of his subjects. Lennon could write songs that were unspeakably good. Some people were so taken aback with Lennon's genius that they used it as an excuse to go on rampages.
Lennon was not responsible for his greatness. He could not help how he connected to people. His job was to let it all out.

Two years ago we watched Justin Timberlake give tribute to Janet Jackson's breasts on national TV, and ever since then we can barely tolerate the word 'breasts,' especially in newsprint. So amazing was the crackdown that I sit here today and think back those floppy breasts and wonder if my half-wood was responsible for the stammering done by those media suits when asked to "come clean" by the House and Senate. We got to see these gentlemen attempt to explain why Jackson's breasts got them supoenaed all the way to Washington D.C.
These breasts (the left one in particular) also nearly ruined the careers of Howard Stern and Bubba The Love Sponge, two radio jocks who had famously declared their love for breasts and were blindsided by panicky numbers-crunchers who slid dense legal documents across mahogany desks to prove to station managers that outrageous legal battles and hefty fines were not in the interest of any station--least of those with managers who wanted to move up in the conglomerate.
So this left breast helped push at least two citizens in a new direction. Bubba The Love Sponge and Howard Stern are now free of that (particular) breast and can talk all they want, carefree, about all manner of breasts on satellite radio.

If your life was impacted by Janet Jackson's breasts, feel free to comment.