Brown Ring
“I’m afraid of finding a brown ring stamped upon the torso of my jacket after he gets up.”
“I’m afraid of finding a brown ring stamped upon the torso of my jacket after he gets up.”

My personal view on blogging right now is similar to the way Ben Fry conceives his Processing files, as a “sketch”. A quick, testable environment for little internet-y ideas, where I can learn and mess around with html, and later javascript/php/ajax/sketches/etc.
I was looking at Google Trends and began writing an inane story based on the most popular search terms (with the goal of increasing traffic AND create a meaningful story), but quickly realized the story would be full of horrible celebrity (?) names and boringly incomprehensible. Now I’m just trying to write enough, so the THIS IS A TEST font will cover the right amount of text.
Today is a really hot day. I went to Target after work with Colleen and got some cheap boy sized flannel shirts. On display was a beautiful brassy number, shining mellowly at me. All fans were sold out. I’m fanning myself with a piece of a cardboard box now. I’ve been fanning myself with paper, postcard, etc for most of the summer. Before that I had a cat hair covered fan left over from the guy who moved out when I first moved in. I ran it under the sink until all the cat hair melted off. It kept me cool in the beginning of summer, but one day sputtered caustic profanity, screaming to be turned off. Now I sweat profusely. Once, I came home and my sheets smelled horribly sour. I blamed the cat for pissing on my sheets but now I think it was me. How embarrassing.
I’m fanning myself with a postcard from the Navatar Group, a cloud computing consulting firm I learned about when I went to a Salesforce conference in the Sheraton Hotel. It was a strange event with ruffled-dressed trashcans, enthusiasm for software touting itself as anti-software, and a xylophone player who chimed the start of the conference. I remember a good amount of swag, like mints with the anti-smoking cross around the word “Software” and a nerf foam stretchy rubber propelled rocket that later ended up stuck on one of the ceiling columns of my office. I also remember there was free booze. I love free booze.
I love free food too. I think when I become wealthy, I’ll still love free food. There something wonderfully gluttonous about the concept of being free. You eat and drink because it exist, because it is offered, not because you are hungry. At least I do. I think the giver wants to give. It’s comforting knowing someone wants something you offer. Thus I will most likely take, when you offer.
Okay, this is now long enough.
Update: Haha. Just realized the image is on top of the text, making the links UNCLICKABLE!

There have been many articles and reports on the construction halt, but around my Williamsburg neighborhood, I’ve seen continuing work. This one is on Havermeyer and South 2nd. Real estate is fascinating to me now that I’ve become such a greedy bastard. It might also be related to my architecture background, where I enjoy the practicality of architecture to make a buck (the vernacular) versus the architecture of big “A” Architecture.
On a side note, I bought 180 shares of SOL at 5.42 because it dropped enough compared to the price I bought it at other times (this is my “strategy”/god I’m gonna lose money/I love gambling). I hope it goes up or down today (it’s the early AMs) so I can get more or sell off. Flatness makes the day unexciting. I’m gonna post a weekly recap of my stock movements using SnagIt screen shots because I am unadvanced like that.
I love my mom, and I’m glad I still get to talk with her like when I was younger.
But the problem with spirits and cell phones is you never know when they’re in the room watching to see if you pick up.
Or if they are going to give you the advice they remember from when you were in high school.
“I told you that you should have taken auto shop. Did jazz piano teach you to change a tire?…
and you really shouldn’t be smoking, you want to die of cancer before your kids are grown?”
Teale Fristoe, 2006, Girdwood, AK
- Chris Lee
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“It’s gonna take an airplane
To get me off the ground.
I don’t blame anyone who isn’t sticking around,
Cause when you stick around (when you stick around!)
People like to put things in the ground.
Now, in my
Evil empire I
Am going to be a star in the night sky
Above. “So you think this is love?”
Yes, I guess so,
At least something to make it from…
Dressed like a dream dreamt by Lola magazine,
Baby you were born to be seen.
And art’s just the start!
Now step inside the Widowmaker
And listen to your heart!
Always ‘the play’, never ‘the thing’…
(Submarines don’t mind spending their time in the ocean…)”