• 12:30 A.M.
  Dang, still no pictures.

Well okay so today I went into "the office", if you can call a hive of hundreds of cubicles and offices "the office". I sat out in the common area signing up for crap and reading the safety guidelines for work. I am advised to "remember to blink". I suppose if I didn't blink for several days, I might lose my sight, so, that's not bad advice. Except that I don't EVER consciously think, "oh yeah, blink!" I'm told they hand out different safety guidelines for different positions. So, a guy who works in a warehouse or garage wouldn't have to blink so much.

I forget if I mentioned this already, but I sure am getting a lot of colon-cleansing oriented spam. I'm not sure how I made it onto these email lists. Was it just some international colon-cleansing mogul who spent a bunch of money on spam campaigns? How many people see that in their email and think, "aw hell yeah, I'm gonna have the shiniest colon this side of the Pecos!!"? Less than five people, maybe. Two? Zero?

It was music night. Kris and I recorded lots of crap, and then he left for togetherness with his girlfriend and her grandparents. I stayed home to clean up and make preliminary tracks for a song written by Mr. Speicus. Tomorrow, if I have time during the day, I imagine I'll be yelling into a live mic about hugs in my living room. Can't beat that. Unless I'm yelling about saving mice from a scary cat [parental advisory: explicit lyrics].

Oh yeah! I did an experiment in the kitchen: I wondered what happens if you try and deep fry chocolate chip cookie dough. I could maybe say this is a result of my trying to anticipate the zeitgeist, knowing that deep fried twinkies and snickerses are the hot pseudo-food at fairs. That's not true, though. The truth is, I am a young man who has recently learned how to fry things in fat, and I still think it's the neatest way to cook things, ever. Plus, I had great results with the fried dough from the other day. The result of the experiment is that chocolate chip cookie dough dissolves in boiling oil. I am not discouraged, though. I now have some in the freezer, which I will flour and attempt another batch of frying with tomorrow.

In the meantime, I made chocolate-covered chocolate chip cookies. These things are so sugary it makes my head spin. I am right now brushing my teeth for the fourth time today, primarily because of chocolate covered chocolate chip cookies. I'm going to take the rest to Helen's house to try and fend off diabetes. Oh yeah, note that Helen's old web host lost a disk, so she's gotten her own domain: rapt.org, which I think is about as cool a domain name you can get (especially since either.org is taken).

I ate at subway, but wanted a small sandwich, so I got the "deli-style" one on a 3" round bun. The only way to get some kind of "meal deal" with these is to get them with a drink, cookie, and TOY, in a paper bag that says KIDS FUN PAK or something close to that. I haven't bought a pak of anything since I was much younger, so I tried to tell the cashier I didn't really want a toy or a crazy bag, just a bargain. Well, after a couple of tries I decided it was easier just to take everything and say thanks. So - subway has adopted the Magic 8-ball as their mascot. I'm not sure if kids think this thing is compelling. It's a ball, it's filled with purple gunk, and you ask it questions. All the toys given with the paks are variations on the 8-ball theme (black, bulbous, "8" motif, full of vague answers). I have a "wrist" 8-ball. I can wear it like a wristwatch, but it's slightly less useful. "Hey Andrew... what time is it?" "uh..(fwizz).. signs point to yes." I am trying to distill as much amusement from this thing as I can before I toss it, but mostly I just refuse to ask it yes or no questions. "8ball.. what the hell?" "don't count on it"