actionverb

Wow.

Almost a year later.

Well, I had planned to let this account scroll since I don't need anymore pinup porn, but, they helpfully re-signed me up for a whole fucking year, so, what the hell.

Of course, I do have other things keeping me away... gooood things.

I am, yet again, awaiting the pink poofiness of the cherry trees right around the conrer- but I am also awaiting moving to a different, bigger place with my girl. I guess I'll have to drive over to see the trees next year.

I'm thirty-fucking-seven.

I don't feel half dead, but man, when you stop and realize stuff like that- the average lifespan is somthing like 74. I'm halfway there.

What have I done that, within the bounds of a meager human life, is truly memorable?

and is that- memorable for me, or memorable for everyone else? or should I say, would it make people go "oh, good for him" or "oh, what a great person" - were they ever to make a movie about one of the billions of unique-like-everyone-else little snowflakes in the world, such as myself.

I suppose this is where I run out and buy a porsche, or get pectoral implants, or start chugging viagra.

nah.

Philosophically it's an interesting place to be, but the lure of new toys isn't there.

I do wish I was maybe not quite this heavy. 232 for a 5'9 guy makes me sound like a butterball, but really, I'm just getting a bit of a gut. I've always carried weight well (knocking on head) but you never know.

Crap it's hot in here. What's the heater on for?

Yeah.

So, I have an actual job, and for once a girlfriend I intend to keep, and I'm pretty goddamned happy.

I expect armageddon, the black plague, a terrorist attack (or homeland security, either way), to be struck by lightning, get the fatal incurable disease, fall down a manhole, and a metor to smoosh me flat just about any second now.

And here I am, at 1 am, clicking on the nothingnet, contributing to the vast squirreled-away word vault that will not exist the second the power goes out. I'm expecting that around the time I go to retire.

Global warming? Fossil fuel reserves run out? Let's see- I retire in roughly 20 years, so, 2027 is when all that crap will hit full force and the world will go all Mad Max. I'll be 57, and fucking pissed.

I really think that global warming deniers should be buried with a little placard when they die.

Then someday when we're all fucked thanks to them, we can dig up their corpse and thank it personally, possibly by letting someone's horny german shepherd mount it. Repeatedly.

Aw, crap. I got all serious an political, and even mean.

Screw it.