Sturtle.com has moved to another hosting service. And I did the transfer all by my little ol’ shrinkin’ violet self–bully for me!
Yeah, I know, for some of you, it’s just another DNS transfer, big friggin’ deal, but for a techno idiot like myself, it’s a real triumph. Humor me a little.
It’s always the same thing: I tell myself, “If I can just make it through this week…” But of course, I never seem to catch up. There’s always something holding me back–another press release, another unexpected bill, another pile of paperwork through which I have to sort.
For the longest time, I’ve maintained a degree of optimism about this, convincing myself that it’s actually possible to get ahead of the game. That mindset, however, is wearing thin. I’m beginning to understand that being two steps behind is simply a way of life…
…Still, I wonder what would happen if I actually managed to pull it all together. What would I do with all that time?
Note to the person in search of gay nylon football shorts: we should talk.
Okay, so, like, two unrelated thoughts: (a) please notice the time stamp on this one–Hello? Insomnia calling, will you accept the charges?–and (b) does anyone remember seeing little cartoons on PBS–like filler when the station had a minute or two to spare? They were usually pretty creepy, kind of adult-themed. One of ’em I quoted below (“The masked man’s a fag!”). It’s a Lenny Bruce skit that was eventually animated–startlingly vulgar for Mississippi public television, now that I think about it. There also was a cartoon version of I Had a Hippopotamus. But my favorite was a sort of generic one about a kid who’s having a very bad, no good dream and wakes up to realize that everything’s fine, then walks out the front door of his house and plummets immediately to his death.
I only ask because, (a) these things make pretty strong impressions on young minds–kids expect Tex Avery, not Poppy Z. Brite, to be the guiding ideology behind their cartoons–and (b) these cartoons were typically so very out there that I can’t help feeling I never saw them, that I made them up. Know what I mean?
These are the inane babblings of a lunatic at 4:41 AM.
Because I use frames, my site stats are wonky. When I check my referrals, for example, by and large the only one I get is the “index2.html” frameset page. But the few true refs I do get make it all worthwhile. Like the one I got via Google/Yahoo today–what I wouldn’t give to know what was going on in that freak’s mind:
“Man, those pics of Lucy Liu picking her nose got me revved up! Now all I need’s a shot or two of Anna Kournikova smoking cigarettes, and I’m gonna spooge all over this crappy little eMachine…. Hmm, what’s “sturtle.com”? I wonder if it’s got any–hey, wait a minute! This guy’s a ‘mo! The masked man’s a fag! The masked man’s a fag! I’ve been lookin’ at cakeboy porn! Dude, I am so outta here.”
Three Haikus for a Monday
I am surrounded
by people who have never heard
the word “deadline.”
Shockwave makes me angry–another wall between me
and kitty porn.
These are the words
that describe me today:
tense, wired, dull, insincere.
Mr. Schardt said he made two phone calls from the school after the shooting began. The first was to 911, the second to the CBS news affiliate in San Diego, KFMB. ‘I wanted to let the news know,” he said.
“I’m like, hey, there’s a shooting at school. I’m watching right now.”
He wasn’t scared, he recalled later. “I wasn’t thinking of anybody or anything. I was taking pictures.”
I don’t want to be all touchy-feely and Helen Lovejoy-“What’s happening to our children?!”, but does the tone of this article seem strange to anyone else? I mean, given the subject matter, you might think Ms. Rimer would have interviewed a few more students, maybe some of the parents–just to put the piece in context, give it some depth and resonance. But no.
Frankly, I’d like to know what the boy’s classmates think of him. His comments about wanting to respect the feelings of the victims’ families seem remarkably hollow. Why is the kid even interesting? ‘Cause he had the presence of mind to pick up a camera? Okay, maybe that’s worth something, but a full write-up in the Times–a write-up that seems completely ignorant of the ironies of the situation?
Sloppy journalism, slow news day.
Bad news: The biggest grant proposal I’ve ever submitted–327 pages with a $975,000 ask–was just turned down. We made a very strong case, and the foundation reps came down for two–count ’em, two–site visits. I’ve been on pins and needles for the past month awaiting the decision. It came today while I was at lunch.
Good news: I just conceived the most fabulous drag number in the known universe. I’ve been hearing this song from this album twice a day, every day, for the past month. Suddenly, as I was driving back from picking up glossies from the worst photo shoot ever, an image fell into place. Now all I need are two kimonos, one large inner tube, five overripe watermelons, and a very large dropcloth. Oh, and a place to perform it.
Amazing how little it takes to cheer me up.
The words of Lucia keep ringing in my head: “It is only busy people who have time for everything.”
Small solace as I find myself in a constant state of multi-tasking.
sturtle [dot] com 