Archive for Ventually
In which I consider the possibility of spending the rest of my days in a seated position. Not that I want to or anything, you may be sure.
Funny thing about that hourglass: if someone inverted it before the sand ran out, you’d never really know, would you?
I mean, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t.
A lot of names don’t mean what they used to mean. Like “Cadillac,” for instance. Or “Democrat” or “Republican.”
Some people think of this state as a laughingstock. Others cry over its failings. Me, I figure what goes around eventually comes around.
I was one of five children, my mother one of seven. A friend has eight, with a ninth on the way. Surely there’s room for someone who doesn’t wish to have any.
The Hour of Indecision presents: “There’s a dead squirrel on the curb!”
For comic relief:
Hope it works.
In the Battle of the Century, it’s Man vs. Bathroom Fixture!
Spoiler: See below.
To some, an architectural specialty; to others, a symbol of opportunity; to me, an adversary of long standing.
I’m just as amazed as you are: this Web site was actually founded on 9 April 1996, and at the time, all of it would fit on a 3.5-inch floppy. (Okay, not a 720k 3.5-inch floppy, but let’s not get technical here.) I’m declaring an open thread for the day; however, I am not actually going to take the day off, because, well, I just don’t do that sort of thing. I never figured this place would last this long. Then again, I never really figured I would last this long, and we know how well that worked out.
A lot can happen in 10.7 miles, especially if you’re sleepy in the morning or weary in the afternoon, or, in my case, both of the above.
This is the person to whom, Polonius said, we must be true. The tricky part is figuring out who that person really is.
I may ask myself, “How do I work this thing without having to learn something new?” And, in fact, I do ask myself that on a regular basis.
Why are some places better to live than others? Maybe it’s something in the soil. Or maybe not.
Today I get to fill out a ballot, and this is what’s been going through my head while I contemplate the matter.
There are, to be sure, certain expectations one must meet on the feast of St Valentine. And as always, I have failed to do so.
It began here:
Plunge taken. May the Gods of the Copybook Headings forgive me.
— Charles G Hill (@dustbury) June 27, 2009
Seventy thousand tweets later, where it stands.
An unfortunate incident on a Friday in the dead of winter.
(Yes, Friday. No, it’s not about whatshername.)
How is it I know all these people I don’t really know? I barely know the people I know, if you know what I mean.
It is of course inevitable that something will eventually kill me; this is the fate of all of us, and God knows there’s no reason I ought to be spared. But I have this unfortunate tendency to see my eventual demise as, well, imminent. And it’s not. (I think.)
No, not a rapper who’s fallen on hard times. Oddly enough, it’s a word we’re most likely to understand by contemplating its polar opposite.
It is de rigueur to sum up the previous year, and speculate on the new one, on this first day of January. I trust you won’t mind if I fail to comply with this cultural imperative except in the most superficial sense.
One week and one day with one low-end tablet. How does it work? Pretty well, actually, but it’s not exactly the answer to anyone’s prayers.
Okay, maybe the prayers of Jeff Bezos.
In which I contemplate two young adult females, both of whom are presumably forever out of my reach. Does this bother me? Maybe, maybe not.
What can we learn from the results of a hotly-hyped automotive Ownership Satisfaction Survey? If you ask me, there are a lot of things we’re assuming that we probably ought not to assume, and there are a lot of people who simply can’t get no satisfaction.
How do you deal with adversity? I don’t deal with it well. Fortunately for me, I have friends on my side — which, it occurs to me, might be something more than mere fortune.
It would be my sixty-third, assuming I get it, and for the moment, I’m assuming that I will.
An Open Thread is proclaimed for the day.
Fifty years ago, I got into the habit of reading the news at dinnertime. It’s a habit I am loath to give up no matter how many options I am offered.