I've been patiently waiting for my friend(s) to post some Halloween pictures of me in my monkey costume and standing around and jumping on a trampoline and the like. But apparently when you reach your late 20s, putting pictures on facebook loses priority.
But that's okay, because I don't need those friends anymore anyway because I have my new metal/plastic friend. I just realized I haven't named my Motorola Droid yet. Maybe something like "Droid". Yeah, that's catchy.
The life changing effects of the new phone are already tangible, as I can listen to Pandora.com at work and my rage is lessened by 50% or more with this added glee.
Listening to music at work really increases my productivity to the nth power. I don't want to say I have some distracting people in nearby cubes who are loud on speakerphone all the time, so I won't.
I added some new decoration to the old cell cube recently too...
Some people might say something like "Oooh, big mistake. There's no way a toy monkey that can be used as a screaming/flying slingshot can look professional in an office."
But it's times like that I remember what may be one of my favorite quotes ever, from The Fountainhead:
"But you see, I have, let's say, sixty years to live. Most of that time will be spent working. I've chosen the work I want to do. If I find no joy in it, then I'm only condemning myself to sixty years of torture. And I can find the joy only if I do my work in the best way possible to me. But the best is a matter of standards--and I set my own standards. I inherit nothing. I stand at the end of no tradition. I may, perhaps, stand at the beginning of one."
Truer words, Ayn. Truer words.
In other Droid events, I saw this guy with a Longhorn tattoo on his head:
Good to see Morgan Freeman at the Verizon store too.
The funny thing is, I'm willing to bet my soul that this tool didn't attend UT. And if he did, I know for a fact he didn't graduate. So, I don't know his story. But I do like the guy standing there obviously knowing I'm taking a picture of the guy with the tattooed head.
But, the reason I wasn't scared is that I was actually wearing UT shorts at the time. So I knew the guy with the ink on his dome would like me and not fight me for taking a stealth pic.
After 11 straight days of work, it's good to be on a 2 day and counting break. Cleaned the lair a bit, worked out, the usual.
Oh, and I got to watch this horse race yesterday. It was the biggest goosebump moment I've had in years.
Summary: Zenyatta is this undefeated mare racing "the boys" for the first time. One of the greatest 2 minutes I've ever seen.
I'll never forget it. For a few weeks anyway. It's inspirational, with the "it's not how you start, it's how you finish" metaphor at play, etc.
I'm finally reaping what I sew, what with all the buying of stuff I'm doing. Like how I bought myself a Motorola Droid. Love it. It will change my life.
DROID.
If you haven't read in the tabloids, my fantasy team is still 7-1 and well on the way to the $800 prize (knock on a giant tree), which would allow me to buy more buzzing magnets and flying, screaming, slingshot monkeys.
Oh, and also donating to charity, like over at kiva.org. Earned me a mention on the howstuffworks.com podcast.
Usually I count any day as a success if I find something weird and funny and new to laugh at. The weird thing is, even after 1000s of days, I still do.
You'd think I would have run out of funny things to think about at work, but I never do. Whether it's pondering if I could kill an old man with a single blow, or figuring out the logic behind eating multiple donuts, I love it.
At home is no exception, where tonight I find myself laughing at the thought of people buying toupees online.
If someone was going to buy a toupee, why get one with ratty grey hair? So you could look like an old stoner?
There used to be this classic old stoner that worked where I did, but he disappeared one day.
Why buy a toupee online anyway? Or ever. Maybe if I was bald, and then I was going to move to another continent and start life anew.
Normal Happy Old Dude
Old Pedophile Blitzed Out Of His Mind On The Hippy Lettuce
If you want to have cool hair, try something like this:
It's cool. Romantic. Intelligent design. I think I will get that sort of sensual design shaved into my dome when I get married. But, then I couldn't wear a grey wig. Too many decisions.
I've managed to acquire even more extra overtime at work! Hooray for $$$$$$$$ This will help cover all my spontaneous purchases from woot.com.
The bad news is that I'll have to work Saturday and probably Sunday, so I can't go totally mental for Halloween Saturday Night. But, if history is any guide, that could actually be good news.
And so everyone not my friend and not with me Saturday night knows what they're gonna be missing...
If harnessed properly, rage is one of the most effective emotions you can have.
Feel apathetic? Think of something you don't like, and get enraged! Need to get something done? Rage! Not sure if you should exercise or not? Think of someone you want to get even with and... RAGE!
I use it all the time, powered mainly by the permanent chip on my shoulder.
But then, the universe occasionally decides to use my life as its urinal and adds extra fuel to my fire.
Like, I wake up Monday morning, and obviously am obviously already in usual Monday morning depression/anger. No harm, no foul. But I go out to my car and it's like all hell has broken loose. To summarize, a firetruck parked near my car blocking me in.
Apparently someone in my complex bit the dust or something. So, I go to the fireman standing there and tell him I need to go to work and his firetruck is being annoying but he just stares at me, utterly gormless. Then I reassess the situation and realize there's a small enough lane next to the fire truck where I should be able to finagle my way through.
So, I get inside my car, aka the Black Beast (of Exmoor), and start reversing my way out. When, as if on cue, an ambulance pulls up next to the firetruck and totally blocks my way.
I get out and take a picture to document my curse, then I look at the fireman with my extra-powerful mega mean stare. He nods in recognition of my ever-growing fury and gets the ambulance to move. Then I had to pull a 8-point turn to make my way out.
They weren't running around or being frantic, so I doubt it was a serious emergency anyway. Just the fates out to get me. No one dies at 6AM on a Monday. Everyone is too busy wishing they were dead.
True
Lifetime
