Worst holiday article ever. Ordinarily I wouldn’t have posted it, but it looks like the only thing I’m gonna have time to write over the next few days–especially since I’ve got a new roomie to prepare for.
Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn. Jeanne Tripplehorn.
That’s the name of the woman who stars in Office Killer. For some reason, I have this mental block, and I can never remember her friggin’ name. Oy.
On the radar this morning:
>>> From Lebanese news source Cyberia: “Is Washington doing too much to defeat Osama bin Laden?”
>>> Slutboy’s account of last night’s encounter.
>>> A casual survey of Amazon’s top-sellers:
1. Germs: Biological Weapons and America’s Secret War
4. Taliban: Militant Islam, Oil and Fundamentalism in Central Asia
8. Beyond Belief : Islamic Excursions Among the Converted Peoples
And although # 9 isn’t directly related to terrorism or Islam or anything, its author was gravely affected by The Events.
Who says Americans aren’t curious?
And yes, I’m aware that “on the radar” employs a military metaphor. What can I say: it’s contagious. Unlike certain poorly distributed biological weapons currently enjoying popularity in our fair United States.
Okay, I never liked George Bush to begin with, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He all but admitted he was mentally handicapped and surrounded himself with smart, experienced folks to compensate. Between September 11 and last Sunday, I was also impressed with his patience, his apparent level-headedness, his efforts to investigate, survey, plan.
Then bombs started dropping. I guess I knew they would–if for no other reason than that he had to save face in a dramatic, televisible way. It’s not ideal, but if he’d waited any longer, Afghanis would have begun returning to the cities, and it would have been an even greater PR nightmare. So again, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
But then I read articles like this, and I start thinking to myself, “Damn, that man must have a really small penis.”
Unfocused campaign. Too many fronts. Winter approaching. I smell Waterloo.
It’s also nice to be the son of a pharmacist.
All I’m sayin’ is that it’s nice to be a homo in the US of A–comparatively speaking. I mean, growing up as a boy-kisser in Mississippi wasn’t exactly fun and games, but it could have been considerably worse..
Ironic, isn’t it, that if I hadn’t been given up for adoption, I could have been in the same predicament.
Due to circumstances beyond my control, I haven’t been reading much lately. That may sound like an idle complaint, but trust me, it’s a very serious problem. As far as aesthetics are concerned, my desk and my half of the bedroom are a wreck, buried under delicately balanced towers of unread anthologies, plays, and the occasional periodical. Much more troubling, however, is the general effect on my productivity: I haven’t read or responded to emails for over two weeks. My apologies if you’re one of the unfortunate ones who’s foolishly chosen to write.
I have, however, taken time to read my boyfriend‘s always-amusing weblog. It may seem silly, but because of our divergent schedules–I like the sun, he likes the moon–it’s often the best way to keep up with one another. Ergo, since I have nothing else upon which to comment right now, I’ll respond to/expand on his blog:
1) Yes, boyfriend, I’m growing a little weary of CNN et al. myself. If you really wanna get your info-freak on, though, why not try a couple of sites I came across while searching for my biological father–notably TerraNet and Cyberia (especially this article)? It’s interesting to see what a vaguely Westernized Middle-Eastern state has to say about the matters at hand.
2) Of the many palindromes to be found in the English language, here are a few of my personal faves (via J-no’s linkage):
A slut nixes sex in Tulsa.
Go hang a salami, I’m a lasagna hog.
Kay, a red nude, peeped under a yak.
Lepers repel.
Llama mall.
Oh, cameras are macho.
P.S. I cut my hair again. Yikes. Pics to follow.
P.P.S. Funny how for a week or two after 9/11, all I could think/talk about was The Events. Now that we’re actually at war, things seem so distant… Am I the only one feeling this way?
Did I mention the fact that I finally spoke with mom before I left for the land of KY?
I am still alive, despite having been trapped for many long days at a conference in the Bluegrass State.
Not that I have a problem with bluegrass itself. In fact, some of the conference’s musical offerings were particularly good–much better than the other crap I was forced to endure–so the trip wasn’t a total loss. And the natives were generally nice, I guess. And it was good to have some face-to-face with colleagues…. But lemme tell ya’, darlin’: there’s nothing to do in Louisville and the food is Bel Ami-bland. Someone should introduce those folks to the wonders of salt. Apologies to any Kentuckians, but I don’t think I’ll be visiting your state again anytime soon. Thank goddess the conference moves back to Atlanta next year.
I am alive.
I am in Louisville, Kentucky.
Like tapioca, being alive in Louisville, Kentucky is neither good nor bad.
I don’t have access to email. That’s definitely bad.
This screen resolution is set to 800×600. Bad.
The food here is also–without exception–agressively bad. Like, working at it, you know.
I come home on Sunday. Which is most definitely good.
‘Till then.
sturtle [dot] com 