Archive for Ventually

Grass

From yesterday’s tweetstream:

If that suggests mixed emotions to you, welcome to the club.

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A song to remember me by

Not that I’m going anywhere anytime soon, but I wanted all this on the record.

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Upon further examination

Did you ever go back and reread something you wrote several years ago? And if so, did you feel compelled to make excuses for so doing?

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Discontent providers

The vast quantity of (relatively) low-priced downloadable music available these days is truly a boon to civilization.

Except, of course, when it sucks.

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Night passages in treacherous waters

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More minor irritants

Aren’t there always more minor irritants?

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We got your destiny right here

How much of what we are is predetermined, and how much is actually up to us? Some pony-oriented speculation ensues.

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Purely theoretical

That’s the answer. One possible question: “How’s your love life?”

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Small frustrations

There are things which will make you tear your hair out, and then there are things which will merely make you drop your comb.

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You are so beautiful

All I ask is that you simply accept it and let it go.

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Sleeper awakes

A look at some of some of the stuff my dreams are made of, and also some ingredients that were left out of the mix.

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On the road to Ponyville

Not quite the same as being on the road to Damascus — but perhaps more similar than you might think.

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Under pressure

It “splits a family in two, puts people on streets.” You don’t want to know what it does to me.

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Down here on the ground

Have you ever wanted to scream “You’re not helping!” at someone? It’s like that.

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Return to Lackanooky Valley

It’s one thing to bewail the perceived emptiness of your life; it is quite another to demand a fucking subsidy.

Literally.

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Forever and a day

This forgotten (though not by me) Lesley Gore track from the middle 1970s is perfect for the subject at hand:

Our days are numbered. Must they be?

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Sort of centered

“Computer, define the universe.”

“The universe is a circle approximately 800 miles in diameter.”

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Get off the road

Some people simply should not be allowed near motor vehicles — even innocuous models like the 1999 Toyota Corolla.

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Sickening news

More often than not, it’s literally so.

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At seventeen

Surprisingly, this Web site is still not old enough to drink.

(This being a blogiversary of sorts, an Open Thread is proclaimed.)

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Future pony

Dear Princess Celestia:

Is the possibility of unemployment tormenting you?

Don’t worry about it.

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Povertymongers

They’ve devoted their lives to Changing The World — but not, of course, to the extent that the change would put them out of work or anything.

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Roll it and throw it

That was how I, a carrier for the Charleston Evening Post, made money off newspapers in the 1960s. Simple, right? Let’s see how Warren Buffett makes money off newspapers (including his most recent acquisition, the Tulsa World) today.

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Behind the quill

On this, the shortest day of the year — a mere twenty-three hours, going faster than they have any right to — I find the story of an erstwhile kindred spirit, shifting regularly between formal seriousness (serious formality?) and sheer fun.

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Plot complications

If this is supposed to be the story of my life, it needs a better editor or something.

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Silence speaks a thousand words

And maybe a whole lot more, if it turns out that you weren’t listening in the first place.

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On the far side of the hill

So when you were younger, you were all that and a bag of chips. What are you now?

(Hint: Probably happier.)

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Impractical hearts

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One up and one down

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The years my voice broke

The first time was in the middle 1960s. Why is it happening again?

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