September 18, 2004

Done and Done


Five or six times a year I'll have some brilliant idea and think to myself: "That's a cool idea, someone could do something with that," but I don't feel like that 'someone' is me. Don't take that to mean I feel like I couldn't do it, I just am never interested enough, plus I'm at this stage where I know that though theoretically I could do many, many things, I have a hard time believing that, in practice, I can go off and do something totally without guidance and supervision, and that thing will not only be worthwhile, but will result in something new that no one else ever thought of before. And then a little while later, sometimes a year or so, someone else does it, and I see what they came up with and I think "damn, I could've done that."

Anyway, here's a shatteringly candid and truthful cartoon about why cats are non-fantastic animals.

Why I Hate Cats

September 14, 2004

Rumors of my Death
Have been tremendously exaggerated.

Alive, kickin, and fully accounted for not to mention stocked with stories.

Those'll have to wait, but here's a very basic sketch.

Wandering in Paris
Lost in Budapest
Dug in Hungary
Driving through Romania
Meeting Andra's Family
Mountain Climbing
Fog, No Fog, and one hell of a View
Mountain People Are Cool
Angry Fucking Hellhound
A Very Old Taxi
The Ice Storm


And that's only the first half. But I'm tired now. I started writing "rest assured" just now, but I stopped halfway through to look at something over there, and when I looked back it read "rest ass." Regardless, I got plenty to say and more stories a'coming in the coming days and months, but now it's time for sleep, with a bloodshot and ever-watchful eye on the evil red digits of my alarm clock that tick away the minutes between me and my wakeup call for the day.

I'm taking a poetry class; that sentence above consists mainly of trochaic feet, which is why it sounds kind of ugly.

Ug. That finishes me off for now.