Well, today I was going to unleash my first installment in a series of rants that highmonkey suggested I should publish, but after spending several hours writing and refining it I figured that it just wasn't fit for general consumption. It was a bit too controversial for mixed company and you'll have to excuse me, but I value my time on this site too much to get bounced because someone misinterpreted something I said. I just enjoy my naked goth/punk girls too much for that. I figured the uneasy feeling in my stomach was a pretty good indicator that I probably shouldn't go ahead with it so I started working on something every bit as insightful, but slightly less compelling. I should have that up by early next week. If you're really all that curious about the first one, maybe I'll e-mail it to you. I don't imagine there will exactly be a ground swell of interest, though.

I realize that how I left off my last journal entry was just a tad bit...belligerent. I need to stop procrastinating and put up a picture in my profile. Laziness, reluctance and a large dose of technological incompetence make for lousy bedfellows.

On that note, I hope you have a nice Superbowl Weekend. I myself am not a big fan of the sport, but I'll at least take advantage of the food situation that commonly accompanies the occasion. If all the pieces come together I may end up watching the UFC pay-per-view on Saturday. The main event is Vitor Belfort against my home state homie Randy Couture. If Couture's last bout with reigning champ Tito Ortiz is any indication, this match is going to be brutal.

Right now, as I sit here writing this the sky outside my window is an ominous shade of yellow and overcast. I don't like the look of it one bit. I think I'm going to remove myself from anything with a current running to it.

Take Care,
Matt