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Stalking Punkie's Thoughts [May. 17th, 2008|09:38 pm]
My latest brain droppings
  • 09:19 The film "Ice Age" has jumped the shark #
  • 12:52 If you really want to meet angry DC people, visit a DC traffic circle sometime. #
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Today in Dupont circle [May. 17th, 2008|04:59 pm]
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So, today I went out to DC. Again. Which is good, because one of my goals over the next few years is to re-connect with DC since every time I go out, there's stuff that's all new and junk.

I went out with [info]shuttergal, a childhood friend from literally kindergarten. We spoke about art, high school, mental hospitals, and a former principal we all hated. We went to and hung out at "Teasim," a kind of combination teahouse and short-order grill that served gourmet stuff. I had a really good time, and had real chai for the first time (not the fake chai I have gotten at Starbucks and Duncan Donuts). This was good for my head cold, which had my ears so clogged up, I think I was shouting a lot.

The Metro ride to and back was completely uneventful. I only point that out because it's getting rarer these days where a Metro ride to and back is uneventful. I know they were doing work on the Green, Red, and Yellow lines, but it didn't affect me.

I finished "The Last Unicorn" last night. Since I hadn't read the book since I was 10, it was almost like reading a new book, but a book that you felt was already done by somebody once. The feel of the book was very ethereal, especially towards the end, when a lot of similes and metaphors kept sloshing about. I couldn't help but wonder if the Red Bull energy drink was named after the character. It was funny what parts I remembered and what parts I had forgotten. I remembered the end pretty well, but a lot of the middle seemed like a new book.
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Stalking Punkie's Thoughts [May. 16th, 2008|09:37 pm]
My latest brain droppings
  • 13:10 Signs of a quality meeting: when the management says, "We're just here for the free pizza." #
  • 15:37 I am grateful for a guy named "Metelhed" when I was a kid. He taught me the best way to defeat psychodrama was to turn into Teflon. #
  • 15:38 Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters! #
  • 19:38 I hab a cowd. [sniff] #
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Stalking Punkie's Thoughts [May. 15th, 2008|09:35 pm]
My latest brain droppings
  • 10:47 In class: The consultant teacher pronounces "Linux" as "LEE-nucks" [cringe] #
  • 10:48 In class: The consultant teacher pronounces "CentOS" as "sen-TOSS" [cringe] #
  • 10:49 In class: The consultant teacher pronounces "cron" as "krowhn" (as in "moan") [cringe] #
  • 11:21 In class: I have now decided to pronounce things, "Wine-DOHSS" and "Meh-CROW-soft" in retaliation. #
  • 13:26 In class: I shit you not, our teacher is describing his 12 year old lesbian daughter's woes and how he'd hide bodies on his property. #
  • 19:26 In class: The teacher tried to recruit me in some consulting referral group. What a banner day this has been. #
  • 19:27 When Douglas Adams died, I thought, "There goes my chance at being on a panel with him." I spoke too soon. See me at Balticon for details. #
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Stalking Punkie's Thoughts [May. 14th, 2008|09:35 pm]
My latest brain droppings

  • 11:39 Man, what a lot of crabby people on the Metro today! #

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007 as a Homeless guy [May. 14th, 2008|07:42 pm]

Homeless 007 - Watch more free videos

I am sure this is offensive on all kinds of levels, but I think it's a pretty funny and clever spoof. My favorite was the self-destruct button.
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Space Pirates vesus S.U.N.G.O.D. - Chapter 2 [May. 14th, 2008|04:20 pm]
I got curious to see where this was heading, so why not?
_________

Essar tried hard to calmly breathe through her nose as tears of fright dribbled down both cheeks, leaving a sticky and salty path. Two pieces of gray adhesive strips covered her mouth, and as she sat in the dark closet, she prayed that she could hold out until the pirates left them alone. But Eliza didn't have confidence that they'd left the ship go.

"When they are done with looting," she said, "I bet you they blow us all up."

Essar squeaked in resigned fear, her protests waining into futility as snot bubbles popped in her left nostril.

"Shut up before I tape your nose, too," Eliza said. "I can't hear them."

Essar's all tied up now... )
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Another fun day on the Metro [May. 14th, 2008|12:14 pm]
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Today was a terrible day on the Metro... for other people. I was okay, but feeling uncomfortable as this sunny weather and what I considered happy weather seemed to anger everyone on the way in this morning.

I am reading my book, when suddenly I hear a voice scrape across the air, "You know, other people don't want to hear your phone conversations." A quick glace showed a confrontation between two men. The man on the phone looked like a distinguished businessman with a very low voice; so low, I didn't even register he was on the phone even though he was maybe 3 feet away from me or less. That's the Metro for you. But sitting in a seat a foot away was the kind of guy you just want to punch on principle. An older guy with a bike helmet, a "Northern Face" jacket, shorts, and a messenger bag. But it wasn't how he looked that bothered me, but his patronizing tone to the businessman standing up in front of him.

The business man said something which sounded like a gracious apology, but the older man just kept talking like he was condemning an errant teenager who just said the F-bomb in front of his small children. "A lot of people have to share the Metro, you can make that call at some later time." I wanted to stand up and go, "What the FUCK? How would YOU know? He can use his damn phone all he likes, and I wasn't even aware he was talking until your irritating anal-control voice slithered into my ear like oily barbed wire." But I didn't. I am not sure what the man said next, because again, he had a quiet, low voice. But the old guy kept shaking his head, "No. NO. You can make that call outside the Metro. Now hang up that phone." The business man decided to do so rather than fight, but the old guy lectured him for another minute or so. It took me a while to calm down in sympathy. What a prick!

Then a little later, another guy started hassling this young woman sitting next to him. "Move your pointy elbows!" he said. The way he was sitting was seriously encroaching into her space because he had a rolling suitcase, a duffel bag, and was holding onto all of it instead of keeping it on the floor. The woman said something back, and his response sounded like, "Well, some of us weren't born rich and privileged." Finally, he moved to an empty seat, but when he made eye contact with me he shook his head and said, "Women can be so self-centered."

Yeah, so can asshats with luggage.

Then there was a really bratty private school kid with possibly his older sister. I see a lot of private school kids on the Red Line, and many of them are rambunctious and rude. In this case, the younger kid who looked about 7 or 8 was climbing all over the seats while he teenager sister was yelling at him to stop. All he did was mock her, laugh, and generally act monkey-like in his taunting. Finally, one of her attempts to grab him worked, and she pulled him across the seat, pulled down his pants, and spanked the hell out of him. The kid just said, "Oh yeah. Uh huh. I like dat! Smack my ass!" Her blows were weak and ineffective, and finally the kid wiggled away, even more hyper. He started doing a dance out of her reach, and then started jumping on the seats. Not two seconds after I thought, "God's going to take care of this one," the kid slipped and fell ON HIS THROAT over a handlebar on the back of the seat.

His tune changed quickly. He started to cough and then cry. His sister came over to look at him, but he jerked away, gasping. Then they got off at Fort Totten, so I am not sure how badly he was hurt. But as they left, she was saying, "I told you not to do that. I told you you'd get hurt, but you're such a stupid ass you don't even listen to anything!"

Fun day!
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Fiction: Space Pirates vesus S.U.N.G.O.D. [May. 13th, 2008|09:28 pm]
I am depressed, have a mild migraine, feel restless, and wanna write. Sorry, it will be a little rough, I don't have the patience to edit when I am like this.
____

In the darkness of the universe, a small ship slid through the spaces between the stars. Anyone scanning this section or space would have seen the ship as a cloud of space dust among the billions of similar clouds that drift like ghosts of long-forgotten collisions. The ship was surrounded by thousands of small nanobots, collectively acting like cloaking device, and at the same time, scanning for anything interesting they came across.

The captain of the ship was sitting behind her shuttered windows, lounging in her captains chair amid some dirty laundry, food wrappers, and piles of assorted brick-a-brack from other worlds. Behind her was a poster of "the model employee," distributed by the shipping company that owned the cargo freighter she piloted. She was not dressed in the snappy blue navy jump suit uniform pictured on the mannequin in the poster, but in a pair of loosely fitted sweat pants and a stained white tee-shirt. Her bare feet propped up on an instrument panel, the only piece of the official uniform Captain Eliza Chilihar wore was the company cap which kept her long strawberry blond hair slicked back in a loose and sloppy braid. It said, "S.U.N.G.O.D." which was the company name. It didn't stand for anything anymore, having been a logo bought out in a massive super-conglomerate buyout eons ago, but seemed like a good trademark for a long-distance shipping company that delivered into the outermost reaches of mapped space.

On pirates and shipping )
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Rereading Beagle [May. 13th, 2008|04:54 pm]
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You know, there's a chance I might get to Peter S. Beagle Balticon weekend on a less mass scale than I am used to meeting authors. I have been invited to the place he's staying at over that weekend, and maybe he'll be there, and I sort of felt bad if I hung out with him and I was all, "I only know one book you wrote, and I was 10 when I read it." So I bought a copy, and started reading it last night. I mean, sadly, he's not the REAL reason I am going, it's to see two dear friends who I haven't seen in ages, but if Peter is there, I'd like to at least know about him more than "You're the guy who got shafted by Bankin Rass, right?"

I am finding there's a certain... flavor, older fantasy has. I haven't quite nailed it down, but it reminds me of a more obscure time when fantasy books had watercolor front cover illustrations, or pen and ink over a watercolor background. It was written the year I was born, 1968, and so while it's a little younger than Madeleine L'Engle's "Wrinkle in Time," it has that same feel. Like a junior adult fiction on a spinner rack. Back when sci-fi and fantasy were pulp paperbacks, and riding that edge of being for adults and for children.

I only vaguely remembered the plot. I don't even remember the ending exactly, which is good, because it's like reading it for the first time, only invoking old, old memories of, "Oooohhhh... that's where I got that concept from." I vaguely recall it ends on a depressing note, but then again, I found so did "A Wrinkle in Time," and apparently I had a very bent way of looking at things because I don't think that has a depressing ending now. Meg lives! So does her dad!

We shall see.
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