The Group W Bench

It just needs to be mentioned.

2008-03-21T18:14:00.002-05:00

Today is supposedly the first day of spring.

And it is snowing in Chicago.

Meh.

2008-03-21T12:10:00.003-05:00

I am posting early today, as I have the day off from work, and because I need to run errands tomorrow.

My current plan for this spring is to get my apartment in order, to allow my cousin 'Backer to move in with me if his current housing situation deteriorates.

Last Sunday I actually brought him over briefly. He was astounded, and unpleasantly so. I specifically told him not to look at the bathroom, and he was smart enough to follow my advice.

However, I have let him know that if his current housing situation deteriorates, he has the possibility of moving into the bedroom, after I have divested it of all my crap. He says he'll keep it in mind. If he needs to take me up on it, we'll work out details then.

Cleaning progress is slow, but still better than I have done for the past four years.

I have been amazed at the amount of back issues of the Chicago Reader I have had to chuck. I found issues dating back to 2003. These papers have all been ferried to the Chicago-Tribune-maintained newsprint recycling bin at my local Red Line station - I can only assume that the employees picking these up have been wondering when the flow of crap will end.

I have been making trips with newspapers crammed into three tote bags and two of the three sections of my backpack. I have been missing morning trains whilst I dump the papers.

In addition, I have been winnowing the back issues of various magazines - I've been on a roll going through four years of Entertainment Weekly and scattered copies of Premiere and Movieline. The New Yorker and Discover and Harper's and Atlantic will take a little more time, but I'll get through them.

Also, this past Tuesday night, I took a vaccuum cleaner to the pile of crap in and on the poster display., so that section of the room is less filth-ridden than before, although still not aesthetically-pleasing.

Other than this project, I've done little. Since the last post, the only quasi-social thing I've done was an all-night venture at the Admiral Theater on 4-5 March. I'll post some notes, but nothing happened that would lend itself to narrative flow.

However, I was openly smiling for two days afterward.

Yes, I am a bad man.

Okay, the next post will be in SEVEN weeks, not three, since I'm puting even less effort into scribbling things than usual. So you needn't bother checking this site again until 10 May. During that time, we'll see how these living arrangement changes happen, and I'll visit my mom for a weekend, and I'll be at the wedding of MetroCake and ITArtist, and quite possibly my cousin will have walloped me upside the head with a two-by-four.

Until then, take care of yourselves as best as you can.

Eyeeesh! Make it stop!

2008-03-21T12:02:00.001-05:00

Thanks to the information source classified as "British lad mags", I know now that someone has even built a site dedicated to pictures of women sneezing.

And no, the site was NOT built by Metrocake or by me.

Previously-Used Bench Slogans

2008-03-21T12:01:00.000-05:00

Tugging fretfully at your colon strings.

Exacerbating the unnecessary.

Producing waste gases in a convenient web format.

Better than broken kneecaps, severed tendons, or Christmas albums.

Ill-tempered, regretful, lazy, shy - yet inexplicably single.

100% of your recommended daily allowance of bile and shame.

A blistering whirlwind of inactivity.

Providing public amusement through personal abasement.

Like a vicious cyberweasel on poppers.

An unpalatable blend of bizarre herbs and spices.

Animating the corpses of arguments and relationships since 2001.

Gleefully blowtorching other people's igloos of comfort.

Unlikely to cause fun swelling.

Just another weasel in the wrong henhouse.

If he’s not complaining, check his pulse.

If music be the food of love... I seem to be e. coli.

Twisted charred valentines of regret, in bulk packaging.

Not forward; not backward; just awkward.

Yes, I am a bad man. (Coda)

2008-03-05T06:30:00.000-06:00

I stumble in my apartment, shuck out of my clothes, consider calling the Ops Room to taunt Jedi RobMo with the fact that I am just getting home, and sanely decide to go to sleep.

Yes, I am a bad man. (Ending.)

2008-03-05T05:40:00.000-06:00

This is the moment I stagger out of the Admiral Theater, blinking in the sunlight, and head to the McDonald's two blocks east, to get two Egg McMuffins. If I didn't take the day off, I'd have to be on train to work shortly.

Gratitude to "Miss Kitty", "Dani", "Kylie", the waitstaff, and the bouncers. And much gratitude to "Athena" for being a great talker, a great listener, and extremely cuddly.

---

Athena: (pointing out the dancer on stage) "She's gorgeous."
UIM: "I'm not quite so dumb that I'm going to compliment some other woman to the woman with whom I'm sitting."
Athena: "I won't be offended."
UIM: "All of the dancers here look good. Of course, most of your colleagues, I feel like I should tip them in Subway sandwich coupons."
Athena: (Loud burst of genuine-seeming surprised laughter)

Yes, I am a bad man. (Beginning)

2008-03-04T21:57:00.005-06:00

After hurriedly washing laundry, hitting up the bank, showering, shaving, and getting out the door onto transit, this is the moment when I walk into the Admiral Theater, hoping that the featured dancer, Vivid Video star Briana Banks, has not canceled.

A minute later, as a bouncer shows me to my seat, I glance at the half-dozen guys and twenty-five regular dancers, and immediately intuit that Briana Banks has canceled her scheduled appearance.

Nonetheless, I stay.

If it's too loud...

2008-03-01T19:15:00.000-06:00

(Four or five new posts for the past three weeks, and a couple of back-dated posts from July 1995. )

---

I feel about as twice as old as I look this morning. And I look about ten years older than my age. Bleaugh.

I wish I could claim that any interesting debauchery was the cause.

I went to an all-ages concert last night, The Donnas and the Hives, and afterward, had some dinner with friends, and got in around 1 am.

At no point did I engage in any sort of behavior that would raise anyone's eyebrows. (No one offered.)

But with the ringing in my ears, the aching in my muscles, and the slowness of my brain this morning, I feel like I'm three days short of checking into the Retirement Home for Geeks Who Are Amazed to Have Survived This Long.

Right, enough complaining - other folks have real crap they are coping with.

Of course, if you take away my complaining, my conversational topics dwindle to nothing.

I spent every night of the past three weeks saying, "I know I should write posts for the blog, but it's too much like work."

So, yes, I am still reconsidering how worthwhile this endeavor is. Quite possibly, by the end of the year, I will have folded this carnival's tents again. The readership of this blog could be easily kept informed with a five-minute phone call every month - "Nope, I'm still doing nothing outside of work, and unhappy at work. Yes, the apartment is still a disaster area. No, I haven't made any effort to try to find a woman. Yes, my cholesterol number is still higher than my weight in pounds."

And that would be a fine plan, if I didn't paralyze myself from calling people. "They're probably having dinner. They're probably out. They probably have caller ID, and may fake their own deaths to avoid my call."

As DBAChief keeps saying, "It's whatever, man."

Of course, she also constantly tells me to man up and do something and quit being a whiny bitch. And half her conversation is usually "Of course you don't get what I'm saying. You're a man. You just don't get it."

I'm not saying she's wrong, of course.

I'll get around to it.

Look, the next post should be on 22 March. I may have made a couple of life-altering (but not-innately-serious) decisions by then. (Nothing involving a change of job or marital status, obviously.) I might have actually written some of the Three Weeks of Lists bullet-point essays that I have been meaning to scribble for almost two months now.

Or, the next post could just be a rambling mockery of rational thought, like this one.

Take care of yourself. We'll talk soon.

No, I shouldn't own this.

2008-03-01T18:59:00.003-06:00

It would only be inappropriately used at work.

But... I WAAAANNNNA!

NY Metro Area Nostalgia

2008-03-01T18:48:00.004-06:00

Crazy Eddie commericals.

YouTube is dangerous. Not only does it lead seemingly normal people to upload commercials videotaped over twenty years ago, even for horrible TV movies, but it leads people like me to watch them.

Hey, kids, remember when the broadcast networks would show theatrical movies on Saturday nights?

What do you mean, 'What's 'broadcast'?"

Get off my lawn, you snot-nosed punks.

It can't be nostalgia. I'm laughing too hard.

2008-03-01T18:35:00.003-06:00

I'm trying to not laugh.

I can't even remember all the names that club had before the shopping center got razed to make another shopping center. I know that when it was Hammerhead's, Blue Oyster Cult and Twisted Sister would have gigs there. I know that it was Key Largo for a time. And I don't think I was even paying attention to it when it was the Bel Air Cafe.

I have been rendered speechless, because they have rendered "Thunderstruck"

2008-03-01T12:55:00.002-06:00

Lullabye versions of AC/DC.

http://www.amazon.com/Rockabye-Baby-Lullaby-Renditions-AC/dp/B0011V7OO2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1204395710&sr=1-1

http://www.jr.com/JRProductPage.process?Product_Id=4219077&JRSource=googlebase.datafeed.1015944_CD

http://www.bestprices.com/cgi-bin/vlink/027297963122?source=GBase

Words fail me.

I was eventually going to listen some of the samples. I didn't even look at the songs reperesented, yet. I wanted to finish my rambling posts first.

I shot this off to certain folks in an e-mail first. I got a response from Taoiseach soon enough: "These are unrecognizable. They might as well claim they are lullaby versions of a Winston Churchill speech."

Actually, that has to wait for the lullabye version of Iron Maiden, doesn't it?.

Taking the SCA aesthetic a bit too far.

2008-03-01T12:05:00.003-06:00

Pitbull Armory

You know, I understand that regular human SCA people aren't a high-volume business, so you have to branch out.

However, this seems like a wrong direction.

And this just tempts me to make jokes about the Redwall books.

A rare moment of technophilia

2008-03-01T11:56:00.004-06:00

For a few moments, I am so tempted.... I could watch Hudson Hawk every morning on the train...

MyVu

The iWear line by Vuzix

A sentiment I appreciate

2008-02-29T23:30:00.000-06:00

Howlin' Pelle Almqvist: "I will take your English language, and do with it as I please."

Save me from another good time.

2008-02-29T19:30:00.005-06:00

As I mentioned back on 9 Feb, I had been thinking about going to a rock concert.

You all know me. Large groups of strangers irritate me.

But the Riviera Theater (roughly a mile and a half from my apartment) had a show tonight - main act was The Hives, whom I find entertaining enough on cd. (Whoever writes the lyrics has an odd understanding of English language concepts - but nothing intrinsically weirder than Phil Lynott lyrics.) And the opening act was The Donnas. The Donnas cds got me through a lot of crappy times this decade. (Sems like every decade, there's one band that gets me through - 80's was Jimmy Buffett, 90's was Aerosmith, 00's is the Donnas.) And I like the current album, Bitchin', very much. (Yes, it's 80's hair metal rock in a blender, and you can play "Spot the reference" with the guitar riffs and vocal tics - but I believe it is done with honest affection.)

After I bought the tickets, I made sure to have Bitchin' and the latest Hives release, The Black and White Album, playing most days at work. (Headphones have been helping me stay calm and focused at work the past couple of months.) If I'm going to a concert, I want to be sure of most of the lyrics.

Also, the Donnas have recently set up a channel on YouTube, thedonnastv, so a couple of nights after work, I have come to Screenz and watched music videos on YouTube - both the items they posted, and items posted by fans. Not just watching the Donnas' videos, either - I have found guilty pleasure in playing some videos which I have not seen since puberty - Midler/Jagger's "Beast of Burden", Aerosmith's "Chip Away the Stone", and, lord help us, the Fred Schneider solo single "Monster".

So, last time I posted, I checked Ticketmaster, and bought a few general admission tickets. Because I figured that going alone to a rock concert required a little more bravery than I could muster.

I roped a bunch of folks into accepting tickets - DBAChief and LowRider, FierceLocalQueen, Flee and his beloved.

Of course, the plan did not work out quite like I had hoped. I hadn't known that General Admission meant "Pay to stand in line for an hour so that you can get in and stand for four hours." I had thought that cheap and uncomfortable seating would be available.

So, yeah, some of my enthusiasm dampened. I accept that I am just not the target audience for rock concerts, and assign blame to no one.

Also, since various people had various work times and various things to do after work, I was actually standing in line alone at 5:11 PM, listening to the underage girls complain bitterly about the cold. This amused me, because I am evil.

"I love how cute our outfits are."
(Huge gust of wind.)
"Arrrrgh!!!"
(UIM smiles evilly to himself, happy for wearing numerous layers of clothing.)

DBAChief was feeling poorly after work, and LowRider came back uptown after getting her home, but when he called me that he was in the theater, the phone transmission was cracking up, so I couldn't tell him where I was. I didn't get to talk to him until after the show (I called while waiting in the coat check morass) and he claimed to have a good time - he saw the 40 minutes that the Donnas were on, and about seven or eight of the Hives songs, before he decided to leave and beat the traffic.

FierceLocalQueen found me about midway through the Donnas' set, and was stuck down on the first tier throughout. Flee and his beloved cuaght up with us during the intermission.

Another mistake of mine was checking my puffy outer coat. Mind you, it seemed like a great idea at 6:10 PM, when I was thinking, "I don't want to have to hold this for the next four or five hours." After the concert at 10:15 PM, smashed in a crowd of twits all trying to occupy the front of the line, twisting down to the basement, the coat check seemed like another in the long line of bad choices I have made. The truly annoying part is that after 45 minutes of waiting, I finally hand the ticket to the clerk. He takes three steps over, grabs my coat, takes three steps back, and hands it to me. (Eloquent UIM eyeball rolling.)

I met up with FierceLocalQueen, Flee, and Flee's beloved (a cute pale-skinned redhead for whom I have no nickname) at the sushi restaurant down the block. I hadn't been there before, so I was pleased at how calm and relaxed and not-cramped it was. They were in a big corner booth. I broke into a huge dreamy grin as soon as I was able to sit down.

The concert itself was fine. Since both bands had their equipment on the stage, and the stage isn't huge to start with (I think the term is 'intimate venue'), the Donnas were pretty restricted in their movements. The vocalist, Brett Anderson, certainly did what she could to pump the crowd up. But (speaking from my own very limited experience) there's only so much stage business a vocalist can do, anyway. Pout and/or strut - even if people compare you unfavorably to Mick Jagger. Various arm-waving gestures - pumping the fist in the air, guitar-fretting motions with the left hand, full-on air guitar, motioning to the crowd for more noise, goofing around with the microphone stand - the repertoire is there, but it runs out. Leaning against the guitarist or bassist. Headbanging. Dramatically crouching. After fifteen minutes, it's tough for any vocalist to not feel like a Robert Plant imitator.

Okay, after the first verse of "Like an Animal," Brett turns to the guitarist, Alison, and makes a mock panther-snarl, with her hands up like claws. I chuckled.

The Hives, going on after the Donnas' gear was cleared, had a lot more room to pace around. And the vocalist was able to now climb on the speaker stacks flanking the stage.

Also, both Brett Anderson and the Hives' vocalist, Howlin' Pelle Almqvist, said "Chicago" a lot. I think part of it that "Chicago" is a moderately fun word to say. (It's not "bulbous bouffant", but it's still somewhat fun.) And part of it is undoubtedly because they do need to remind themselves where they are, as well as incite some hometown feeling in the crowd.

Brett Anderson: "We were in Minneapolis last night. I'm not sure how you feel about those guys up there. They were pretty good at singing along. They weren't as loud as you guys, but at singing, they were spot on..."

Howlin' Pelle Almqvist - "The Hives love Chicago, because it reminds us of home." (Pause) "Cold. Wet. And miserable."

Of course, I find the name "Howlin' Pelle Almqvist" pretty entertaining to say, myself.

In the end, I was happy enough, up against the railing on the second tier, screaming along at parts of the songs, clapping as loud as I could sometimes, and just watching the Donnas play. There's entertainment enough watching competent musicians lose themselves in the music. And watching the vocalist be goofy.

6 Bad Ideas I Did Not Carry Out for the Donnas Concert

2008-02-28T19:29:00.002-06:00

Now, keep in mind, I'm not really the groupie type, being socially incompetent and all, but it's not like the idea of hitting on Maya Ford from the audience at the edge of the stage while she played bass guitar seemed innately wrong. (The age difference is only nine years.)

So, yes, all of the following occurred to me, and fortunately, my apathy and my procrastination have kept my diginity at its current low level (measurable in millimeters), instead of eroding it even further.

Ranked in order from lamest to only lame.

1) Wearing a t-shirt reading, "But there's no cute boys in Decatur...."
Yes, quoting a lyric from the song "40 Boys in 40 Nights" from the Turn 21 album. But it's a bit obscure, and the letters would have to be a small size. I'm not sure how visible it would be from five or more feet away.

2) Wearing a t-shirt reading, "Maya. Call Me:" followed by my phone number.
Yeah. Direct and abysmal.

3) A poster with the band name in different fonts used by other bands.
It's not totally out there. The current band logo is using the Iron Maiden font. And I used to be able to do the spiky Judas Priest lettering in the margins of my notebooks. But it's "meh."

4) Wearing a t-shirt reading, "Save me from another good time."
Quoting "Save Me" from the current album. Less lame, but still too indirect.

5) Throwing a pair of boxer shorts on the stage.
I have a few extra pairs, and I think the set with a frowning Snoopy face and the sentence "I feel like I've got to bite some one on the leg." is charmingly aggro.
For the second to last song, the vocalist, Brett Anderson, joked that guys taking off their clothes was just appropriate at thi moment, and launched into "Take It Off" from Spend the Night. That would have been a good moment to throw the boxers on stage.

6) Wearing a t-shirt reading, "Maya Ford kicks ass!"
When shameless ass-kissing is the best possible plan, it's time to ditch the entire idea.

---
During another talking bit of the concert:

Brett: "It's great that every time I'm looking at the audience, I'm seeing more familiar Chicago faces."
Maya: (pointing) "I think the cheesecake guy is over there."
Brett: "T-shirt?"
Maya: "No, the guy who gave us the mini-cheesecakes."
Brett: "Oh yeah. If you want to make us smile, mini-cheesecakes are a good way to do it. T-shirts aren't bad either."

However, I think the image of a forty-year-old UIM with a cooler chest full of individual Eli's servings and a hopeful grin on his face is still more pathetic than I'm willing to be. (And probably more organized - let's be honest.)

A brief moment of gratitude

2008-02-27T20:30:00.001-06:00

Thanks to FierceLocalQueen and Flee for the lunchtime companionship.

Yes, I am an evil-hearted loser.

2008-02-12T20:30:00.003-06:00

PermitQueen is getting married in late May, and she sent an e-mail around in mid-January to get some rough head-count idea of who was bringing someone. (Invitation should be sent soon.)

I, of course, indicated I would be flying solo.

She wrote back, expressing enthusiam for my attendance.

And then wrote back again, because of a nibbling little worry at the back of her mind.

"In the interest of full dicslosure, I have to warn you that a certain former colleague of ours will also be attending."

I wrote back something flippant, followed by a serious statement that I was not going to cause trouble.

And after I sent the e-mail, I double-taked.

I checked the company e-mail address book - yup, NawlinsBelle is no longer on there.

This means that after PermitQueen's wedding, I will never likely have to see the short marathoner again. No chance of accidentally encountering her in the office and keeping my grimacing and eye-rolling internal while my stomach flip-flops and a chorus of small demons mock me for being so unattractive to women.

Here's the evil part - I walked around the rest of the day with a bop in my step, and at various times humming or whistling or outright singing, "Walking on Sunshine". (It's a PvP reference.)

I recognize how pathetic I am, by how much this cheered me up for about six hours.

Answer: An inert lump of rock whines considerably less

2008-02-09T10:05:00.000-06:00

Few blizzards, no bronchitis. Well enough.

Yes, technically this is a new post announcement. However, this and the two posts below it will be the only posts this session.

I have done little, written nothing, and can produce no evidence that my presence confers any benefit on any living thing.

(Yes, I am making certain presidential references in my mind, but let's not start the first ever Bench flamewar.)

Okay, I've done a couple of things:
- an insanely uncharacteristic social activity on the 2nd of Feb - going to LowRider's house to watch the Super Bowl. I of course gave not a rodent gluteus who won the damn thing. But it was something to do, LowRider and DBAChief had actually expressed interest in my company, and there was food. My couin 'Backer went with me, and I met briefly a bunch of LowRider's friends and cousins. I was entertained enough.

- dinner with TriAthlete at Moody's on the 5th of Feb. He called, we harassed each other, he said we had to go hang out at some point, I said my schedule was incredibly free at that moment, and it happened. We were going to hang out longer, and drive around, but the sleet-ice-rain combo that started up made that a craptastically bad idea.

Other than these small bursts of quasi-gregarious action, most of my time outside of work has been sitting around feeling old.

(Yes, I know the dirty looks I should be getting from Purge and EvilG, at the least.)

In the past month and a half, several things have underscored how little I have done by this point.

A) On the cover of the Chicago Reader a few weeks back, the cover story was about and independent progressive journalist who had written a well-acclaimed book about republicans a few years back. Said journalist has written another book being acclaimed by many people, across th3 political spectrum.
Said journalist, of course, lived just down the hall from me during our freshman year of college. That would 1988-89, just to underscore the point. I actually knew him a little at the time.
Let me be absolutely clear - I am not jealous. He has spent time in the past two decades traveling, writing, and broadening his perspective. I have spent that same time moving very little, scribbling nonsense in fitful bursts, and broadening my butt. Since he has put forth actual effort, I feel no jealousy.

B) Pondering this of course led to the realization that this year marks 20 years since high school graduation. It has occurred to me that this was happening, but it just hit me hard this month. Of course, I wouldn't actually go to a reunion - I am vaguely curious if some of the young women whom I lusted after (that would be most of them) are still lust-worthy. Outside of a couple of quick Google searches (apparently, Ellar is still a runner and a swimmer), I have mostly been putting this out of my mind.
I talked with Rack about it a little. He thought my idea of sending my younger brother Stringer to a reunion as me, with the excuse that I had been in a car accident, lost my memory, and had reconstructive facial surgery, was a lame idea. I thought that with enough prep time and suitable cash bribes to NightSkye and Stringer, we could put one over. However, Rack wisely recognizes that all my plans requiring more than a day's worth of concentration on my part are abandoned through inertia, so he's simply waiting me out.

C) While scrounging around for some old e-mails, I found the doc file for some old snail mail I wrote in 93 and 94 to various folks. And I mentioned occurrences in those letters that have dropped out of my mind in the years since. Like helping TMBG break back into his own house when he was locked out, one night while all other family members were away.

D) While visiting Mom for Christnas, she showed me a recent picture of the old Homestead taken by the across the street neighbor. The new owner had the wherewithal to add another story. of course, with all the construction, new siding was covering the house now. The only clues that this are the same house are the bay window in the front, and the same old ugly white garage door with the address in black metal cursive. It looks really nice, but it points out that a) everything changes with time and b) that was the sort of project Mom always wanted to have accomplished, but it was not going to happen on a single mother's salary in the 1980's.

E) A new one, just today - I opened an e-mail from Taoiseach, and amongst other things, he mentions that Bianca, just barely eleven, is five feet tall. I cannot imagine that the small bundle of rationality and dignity is now the same height as my mother.

Other changes, while not immediately sparking negative personal feelings, have underscored the relentless trod of time upon us all.

The Fullerton tracks are all fully open again; while the CTA's re-roofing project at my stop, running from November to December, seems to have simply re-located the leaks to less covenient locations - the front doors of the station, for example.

Stores which I like keep closing, although they are usually the ones to which I do not often go. The Rice Box restuarant, which had cheap good sushi platters and teriyaki platters shuttered this fall, although the location has now been filled up with a trendier-looking independent Asian food provider. And the Selected Works bookstore closed at some point this summer, but I haven't been inside it since CooGWuh still lived out here, so I stifled whatever pangs I felt at no longer having the choice of a cool rambling basement bookstore in the Wrigleyville area.

Yeah, it's whatever. The whinging is too much for me to endure, myself, so I will close this out.

I do actually have plans for the next posts, on 1 March, involving not only sustained writing and thought on my part over the next twenty-one days, but just possibly reporting on a low-key social evening out being entertained by a rock group. (I still have to see if the tickets are available.) This being such a radical departure from my normal behavior, I figure I should warn you half-dozen loyal readers, as the unexpected shock may kill some of you.

In the meantime, be safe, be happy, and be kind. (Batting 0 for 3 on that, myself, of course.)

Weird Crap I Learn About Through British Lad Mags

2008-02-09T10:00:00.000-06:00

CrabFu SteamWorks - Steampunk Radio-Control toys.

SpookyPop - The Pac Gentleman steampunk Arcade game gets me grinning every time. What Would Agatha Heterodyne Play?

The SkipCar - a vehicle made out of a skip. (What we call in the States, a dumpster.)

Last Exit to Nowhere - tourist t-shirts for places appearing in movies.

Rubie's Masquerade UK - the pet costume section. I am seriously unsure which costume disturbs me the most - the Princess-Leia-as-Jabba's-prisoner and the generic harem girl costumes are tied for first, with the Wonder woman costume and the Robin costume tying for third. Although, in fairness, the idea of sending out a dog as Ace, the Bat-Hound amuses me slightly.

Tube Lamp at Manhattan Loft.

the HomerSapien

Fast Food Freestyle - Freestyle rap your order at the drive-thru.

Brutal Legend - an upcoming video game about Eddie Riggs, a roadie (voiced by Jack Black, natch) who gets lost in an alternate diminsion and has to fight monsters, "armed with a broadaxe, a guitar, and a big block V8". Yes, there's supposed to be an umlaut over the 'u' in 'Brutal'.

UIM SOCIAL INDEX update

2008-02-09T09:55:00.000-06:00

20 Jan - Sun - 275
21 Jan - Mon - 60
22 Jan - Tue - 6
23 Jan - Wed - 6
24 Jan - Thu - 20
25 Jan - Fri - 130
26 Jan - Sat - 0
27 Jan - Sun - 362
28 Jan - Mon - 0
29 Jan - Tue - 20
30 Jan - Wed - 6
31 Jan - Thu - 10
01 Feb - Fri - 140
02 Feb - Sat - 1
03 Feb - Sun - 346
04 Feb - Mon - 1
05 Feb - Tue - 90
06 Feb - Wed - 2
07 Feb - Thu - 0
08 Feb - Fri - 1
09 Feb - Sat - 0

Yeah, we got a little out of synch over here on the bench.

2008-01-19T10:24:00.000-06:00

Yes, I apologize to the half-dozen maniacal Bench fans who note that I missed all manner of target dates, and also note that I cannot even reliably add three weeks to any given date.

The Bench has been quiet for most of six weeks. About one-eighth of a year. I feel bad, but I think I would have felt worse actually schlepping here while coughing and hacking and choking on phlegm.

The header lists the next four posting dates. I've triple checked them for accuracy.

The excuses are about what you'd expect: weather and health. Both sapped my willingness to trudge down to Screenz and post; both sapped my minimal willingness to construct coherent sentences, even at work.

Again, I consider shutting down this hollow sham of a mockery. But I'll give it until the end of 2008.

Next post: 9 February 2008 (barring blizzards or bronchitis).

Heh. Snicker. Mwahahaha

2008-01-19T10:13:00.000-06:00

http://planetkaren.girl-wonder.org/index.php?strip_id=511

There's really only one question to ask:

2008-01-19T10:12:00.000-06:00

Will It Blend?