The new laptop

My mom got a new laptop, (what I'm using now), which compared to mine, is like a supercomputer. I discovered a program on it that allows one to make movies.

Like this short thing I put together.

Mathoms

Remember, gentle readers,

When it is late on Christmas Eve.
And all the stockings are hung by the electric heaters with care.
And all the stores are closed.
Let the reader be aware.

That mathoms make excellent Christmas presents.

The Neuter Scooter

I got caught in traffic beside a large truck with paintings of multi-colored cats and dogs the other day. The truck was called 'The Neuter Scooter.' Probably the brain child of some depraved veterinarian.

The animals were smiling and laughing, and having a good ole time being unable to reproduce after their own kind, then again, this might have been what the furry creatures looked like before the vet showed up.

I like vets. It might even be said I have a bit of a crush on one un-named female vet with blond hair who lives in a neighboring state, but I'll not go into details lest she read this post.

Working eighty hours a week is not conducive to good blog updating. Nor is it conducive to non-blog dating. I have a hunch it's not even good for blog-dating, dating blogs, or debating something that rhymes with og. . .frogs, logs, dogs, clogs???

But I can assure you Jason will be writing more in the future.

Oui Ski

It's all in how you look at it.

If you're from Kentucky, you drink it or need spelling practice.
If you're from France, you head for the Alps.

Earlier today, my sister was robbed at gunpoint and told to celebrate the season for giving by emptying her cash register.

Alas, some people do not celebrate Christmas. Thursday, a short, squat, hump-backed little fellow with long pointy beard, little hair, and beady eyes. . .one may have been a marble-I'm not certain. . .came to fix one of our office computers. The little dwarf-like creature said he did not celebrate Christmas, instead, he and his wiccan wife celebrate Yule, which occurs on December 21st.

"We're pagans," he said

I truly felt sorry for the guy. Imagine being married to a witch who doesn't celebrate Christmas, but Yule. . .reminds me of mule.

Because I felt the need to do so, I changed the subject and said,

"I know a man."
"You do?"
"What man?"
"The man with the power?"
"What power"
"The power of hoodoo."
"Hoodoo?"
"I do."
"You do?"
"I do. . .know a man. . .with the power of hoodoo."
"Hoodoo?"
"I do."
"You do?"
"I do."
"You know a man with the power of Hoodoo?
"I really do."

It was a really long conversation and this is just a paraphrase. Or rather, many phrases. My favorite phrase comes from the book of Proverbs. The one that says,

"Arise from your bed of sloth o' thou sluggard, and consider the ways of the ant."

I mentioned this to an un-named co-worker who does not know the meaning of the word 'diligence,' yet considers himself or herself to be a paragon of virtue.

I wish I had a camera then.

And no, the little pagan never could fix the computer.

Waxing Crescent

This is what the moon is doing now-waxing crescentlike. Which reminds me, I should wax my car. Do people wax cresecently if they stand out in the sun too long, or is this a phenomenon strictly limited to heavenly orbs? I should like to know. The current writer's strike is a good thing. Most of what has been written was not worth writing, or hearing, or seeing, so perhaps all these striking writers can practice writing-or at least read something worth reading. Something like The Watchers, by Dean Koontz-what I'm reading now. A most bizaar book involving a super-intelligent golden retriever and a mutant baboon, also with great intelligence. Intelligence is the mark of an high society, a smart society, a cultured society. When asked what he thought of Western Society, Ghandi said, "I think it's a great idea. Somebody should start one." I went to CostCo this morning in a western society-one on the east coast. I saw a woman there who was skinnier than Ghandi. . .anorexic embodied and personified. Most freaky seeing a human that skinny.

Blogging on 4 hours sleep. . .

can be rather difficult, especially as the current time is 3:17 AM EST.

But press on I shall in the hopes that something coherent will come from these purple hands of mine. Yes, they really are purple. I'm wearing purple nitrile gloves and typing from a chemistry lab. The store only sold purple gloves in my size, so I really had no choice, except white. And who wears white gloves anymore?

Dumbness and Stupidiousity

Let the records show I an completely insane and drug-free, Your Honor.


I'm not complaining about Society, merely observing. But has anybody else noticed how incredibly stupid most people have become over the past decade?

Anybody?

I think the average national I.Q. in this country must be about . . .87. And I'm being generous. If you are a 47-year-old man and make $7.50/hour digging ditches, and you have a college degree in chemistry, somewhere along the line you've made a wrong career choice.

If you eat Big Macs everyday for lunch and wonder why you're sick all the time, not to mention being clinically obese, and try to give me 'health advice,' please do not take it personally if I take what you say with a grain of salt.

Somebody is messing with the water supply. Perhaps it's all that sucralose in the drinks we consume. Could be people have rejected God and now live in a constant state of repression, where what they're repressing is common sense and logic.

A hundred years ago, the literacy rate in the US of A was near 100%. Today, if you find somebody who can spell 'receive' correctly, consider yourself fortunate.

(No Mikey, the Himalayas are NOT in Oregon. I've told you that before. Sheesh.)

Sacks and Ashes

Attention world:

Jason will not be blogging today. He has a migraine and is still in mourning over WVU's loss to Pitt. Currently, he can be found sleeping in sackcloth and ashes and weeping uncontrollably. If you still wish to contact His Royal Highness, call or e-mail and send him gifts of food. He prefers Papa Johns over Dominoes and anything Chinese that does not resemble large chunks of phlegm in chicken broth.

Thank you for your support.

Me

The Mourning After

Last night was one of sadness for WVU fans.

(I cannot believe Pitt won.)

The only thing we had to do was beat that Pittsburgh team with the ugly uniforms to go to the national championship.

(I simply cannot believe Pitt won.)

I'm not one for conspiracy theories, but I think that Pittsburgh team might have snuck in a few Pittsburgh Steelers into their defense.

(That game didn't really happen last night.)

13-9 was the final score, ESPN tells me. It was like 60,000 guys had just broken up with their supermodel girlfriends. . .simultaneously.

(I'll just close my eyes, and wake up. . .)

According to my previous post, 13% of adult conversation involves cursing.

(Pitt won? Surely you jest.)

I just discovered a new curse word. It has 4 letters.

It starts with a P, and ends in a T. . .I'll let somebody else finish this one.