Overthunk

Lo, it is said that absolute power corrupts absolutely... and this is assuredly true with online radio. Not too long ago, I happened across something known as Launchcast (via SBC Yahoo DSL, and no, sadly, I'm not getting any kickback here). It may not be the only customizable radio type thingy online, or even the best, but I am having BOATloads of fun with it. "How does this miracle of technology/musical tyranny work?" you may be asking yourself. Well, it not only plays songs, but it allows you to give separate ratings to an artist, a song, or even an album. Ratings begin with "Can't get enough," going progressively down to "love it," "like it," "it's ok," and my personal overwhelming favorite, "Never Play Again!" With this lowest rating, I can guarantee that I will never sit through Marilyn Manson's tired, rehashed tripe, Michael Jackson's wackadoo woohoos, or Kenny G's shittical saxophonical st

In my semi-revered professional life, I get the dubious privilege of telling people what to do. A lot. It's the sort of thing that, even if one didn't desire it in the first place, becomes rather addicting, or at the least, customary. This is why pushy salesgirls pimping clothing store credit cards with 23% interest over and over after I've thrice refused and made it abundantly clear that I don't want the motherfucking 30% off my purchase today, goddammit, irritate me. It annoys me for several reasons, but perhaps the best and most important is that I SAID NO !

Agape at the selection of vodkas at the Centennial package store in a rather seedy part of town, I stood wavering between Grey Goose and Boru, when up sauntered a 6'5" Sam Elliot lookalike in a black fringed leather cowboy jacket, black boots and a grey Stetson. "Buy the cheap stuff, darlin'," he drawled. "It all works the same." And with that, he grabbed a bottle of Stoli off the middling shelf, paid, and for all I know, saddled up and rode away.

Last night at dusk, I was out for a walk in my bike shorts and t-shirt (I know, wearing bike shorts is a privilege, not a right, but they were all I had clean and it was getting dark.) Now, I didn't think these garments, nor my jiggling T and A beneath them, would be gauged as sexy by a passing hick rumbling past in a big ol' blue duallie, but by God, he screamed, "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" out the window, and I'm taking it as a compliment.

I'm starting to think that Pippin Peregrine Took (alias Pugpin) is secretly aware that his naughty behaviour is making him famous on the Interweb, because today, once again, he committed a heinous act. I decided to install some rocklike (i.e. plastic) borders around my front flower bed today. While I was doing that, I foolishly figured that the pup might like to get some sun. Because he can't be trusted to stay close in the front yard, I took him out and hitched him by his leash AND HARNESS to a bench I have out front, giving him the freedom to roam a bit, near me, but still safely secure. Or so I thought. While I was planting petunias, he was seemingly just kind of "playing" amongst the Japanese boxwoods, hibiscus and overgrown weeds. The next thing I know, the little Houdini has slipped his bonds and is trotting along the back fence towards the main road. On he goes, past all my neighbors' backyards, enjoying the sun, galloping along, and having a grand t

Plotting... 

The look of innocence perfected. 

Just look at those ears aflapping and that panicked look as the Puggin flees his latest venture!! 

It recently came to my awareness that the evil deeds of the resident representative of puggery extend far deeper than I previously knew (how was that for a cumbersome hell of a sentence??). You see, my house is small, and the kitchen and living room adjoin in such a way that you could watch TV, over the bar, while washing dishes. Because of this, I have a couch beneath the bar, in the living room. Atop the bar is my rock collection ('cause I wasn't enough of a dork without also being a geology enthusiast). For some unknown reason, the Puppin enjoys hurtling himself against the back of the couch repeatedly until he can kidnap some rocks to hurry off somewhere with and chew. Ours is not to reason why, but merely to defend the igneous, sedimentary and metamorphic from the advances of a slobbery mammalian. So, I hear tell from my roommate that the other day, he had chastised the Puppin Mineral Menace against self-hurtling, and then dozed off a little while watching TV. Well, af