Stuart Pearson (“Hurdy Gurdy Guy”) played again tonight. He segued “Ghost Riders” into “Smells Like Teen Spirit”, did “White Punks on Dope” again, only screwed up a couple of times, and of course performed the fine version he does of “Baby Got Back” accompanied with a slinky. Go Stuart.

Quote of the evening, from genericus: I HAVE PAID SUBSCRIBERS WATCHING RIGHT NOW AND YOU ARE KILLING THE MAGIC!!

I think graduate school is basically a disease. In just the last week I’ve heard four horror stories, including one serious neurological ailment caused essentially by Ph.D. anxiety, one abandonment of the dissertation, and two people who dropped out after four and six years of pain and expense, respectively. All of a sudden I don’t feel so bad about never finishing my bachelor’s. I really knew this already because I grew up with a graduate school around me, and A’s experience at USC was instructive to see too. Friends don’t let friends pursue academic careers, folks.

For gentlemen: Very clean blue jeans, a bit baggy with turned up cuffs. Dark leather shoes of some kind, shiny. The “club shirt”, meaning a button-down collared shirt that is long enough that it cannot be tucked in, and drapes comfortably over a slight potbelly, giving the appearance of a large chest and shoulders and a flat abdomen. Slightly spiked hair with goop in it. Smirk..

For ladies: Very clean blue jeans, either hip hugging or secured with a black leather belt with a shiny buckle. Black leather shoes with heels. Lacy or diaphanously silky top that reveals the shoulders. Options here are spaghetti strap, tube top, off one shoulder (Flashdance look), etc. Shoulder length hair in some type of ponytail.

These rules are very strict. Out of maybe fifty dating couples I saw tonight, only five or six people total weren’t wearing this exact uniform.

In theory I can see my friends list with protected entries and everything in my news reader (NetNewsWire), when I pass it a magic incantation that passes the cookie to Livejournal that I set in my web browser.

In theory.

In practice, it fails silently. Anyone else got this to work?

I’ve been using this little Mac program that does things with Flickr. You can give it some tags and restrictions and it will periodically pull pics from Flickr and preview them from you in a tiny window, and then you can do stuff with the images. It’s a much better uploader than Flickr’s own. It’s nice having a slow flow of interesting pictures coming to me throughout the day, especially nature images. Brain-soothing for me.

You may prefer goatse or transgressive sexual violence streaming into your eyeballs, it’s your call.

http://1001.kung-foo.tv/

Hey kids! Die in an industrial accident, and the government will put you on a cool website and make you a CUSTOM COMIC!

Courtesy the Tofu Hut, we have OSHA’s “Fatal Facts” site, including but not limited to: Crushed by Dump Truck Body, Struck by Nail, Fire/Explosion and of course, Struck By/Caught Between. There is no number 63; there is no number 65; this is not a Monty Python sketch. Struck By/Caught Between sounds like a Pavement album from the 90s.

Two employees were making final adjustments to a large machine in a new paper mill facility. They were using two hydraulic jacks and two 4″ × 4″ uprights under one end of the 6,000 lb. piece of equipment which was suspended by four ¾ threaded rods. First, the employees would jack up one end of the piece about an inch. Then, one employee would climb a set of temporary steps to hand tighten the nuts on the threaded rods. Thus, the 6,000 lb. piece was supported solely by the two vertical timbers on the heads of the hydraulic jacks. The timbers were set under a 5/8″ side rail without any block or other devices between them. No cribbing, blocking, shoring or other stabilizing methods were used to secure the load after it was raised. When the end of the piece was jacked up, it fell, crushing one employee and narrowly missing the other.

Until I found this on the Internet tonight, I hadn’t realized what I am, and always have been, and always will be: A Glitter Graver Gothic Beauty. Why didn’t you all tell me years ago? I’m off to danse in the darque, now.

Glitter – Graver: With your cheeky grin and
outgoing personality its apparent that you are
the go-getter of the scene. When you dance
people watch in awe, even though youre good and
your friends keep telling you, it hasnt turned
you into a stuck up bitch. You dont mind
lending people clothes, money or hearing them
out. You are a night personbut only if its
punctuated by strobe lights! You have that easy
going nature which sometimes leads people to
take advantage of you, but you know how to deal
with scum, short, sharp and to the point. You
wear your tight pants and fluoro accents well
with black and you are damn sexy in them too.
Your motto is Friends are Forever

What is your style of Gothic Beauty?
brought to you by Quizilla

1. Just to make this perfectly clear: I am not a cowboy, and this thing on which I am riding is not a steel horse.
2. Have my Californian emigré friends managed to wreck Portland yet? They’re all buying real estate, it’ll only be a few years. Let me know!
3. I’m an awkward creature when I’m trying to be friendly. I should stick with sarcasto-bastard.
4. sprol_feed is a nice view of the Apocalypse.
5. Everything is better left unsaid (Rule #6)
6. If you like you can marry me, and if you like you can buy the ring.

I was blathering about ADD tonight, and about a generic problem with health and particularly psychological issues. When you go to find out about the problem and learn things, the books are either very technical $75 manuals for clinical practitioners and researchers, or large-type Little Golden Books for morons with lots of comforting case histories and “resources” and not much science.

And there’s one for each subculture. After genericus wondered if religious groups had their own approach, I found http://www.christianadhd.com/ in about 30 seconds. No doubt there’s Goth A.D.D., 12-Step Atheist Approaches to A.D.D., and Otherkin A.D.D. to be found.

So here’s your challenge. Find two subcultures that never, ever meet on the web. There’s fundamentalist furries out there, objectivist punk rockers, Mormon D&Ders. It’s impossible to prove the negative, but what two subcultures never, ever, ever meet? That’s a goal. The second goal is a googlewhack: two subcultures meet exactly once on the internet.

Go to it. Fly, fly, my monkeys.

East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet
Because if they did there’d be a huge fucking twain weck

This man was in the patio the other day. His Harley leather jacket was immaculate, his jeans were pressed, his cowboy boots were shiny and clean, and his hair was… …perfect.

Due to the cleanliness, lack of smoking, and the rest of his appearance we pegged him as the roadie for a Christian rock band.

My friend D, who is 16 and in high school, had a grammatical question for her teachers the other day.

She wanted to know the difference between “who” and “whom”. She asked multiple (more than two) English teachers, none of whom gave her an answer. None of them knew or remembered. My favorite answer was (paraphrased): “No one uses whom any more. It doesn’t matter.”

This is going to be best colony of the Chinese Empire ever!