For The Record

I don't hate James Taylor. I never said that I did. In fact, I find his mellow blend of folk-rock very pleasant. I simply was saying that when Tiddlefitz plays James Taylor, it is such a contrast to the awful music he usually plays that I forget to get mad at him. He's failing, though, I'm managed to cultivate to a steady grumpiness regarding him that should protect me from future James Taylor episodes.

Sinister!

I fell asleep on the couch earlier and woke up later to find James Taylor songs running through my head. I don't know why this is so, but I suspect foul play. While I was napping, none of my roommates came home. They were all out either hot tubbing or broadcasting the news. As for me, I hadn't thought of James Taylor at all in a good long while, so I don't think my subconscious is to blame. So what I believe to be true is that a mysterious neighbor, who we call "Tiddlefitz" is trying to win in a deadly game of annoying music. Usually, he plays really loud techno music at all hours, prompting me to become very upset. But I've been gradually learning to block out the bad techno. But I think he's upped the ante and started playing James Taylor songs while I'm asleep to throw me off. So that when the techno comes back, I'll unprepared for it and he will destroy me. But I see through your little game, Tiddlefitz. You won't take me down easily!

This Is Not Me

This is a picture of a sleeping cat. I put this here because the cat is in a state that I would very much like to be in. That state being sleep. Alas, I am not asleep, nor will I get to sleep for many, many hours. Also, unlike the cat, I am not fuzzy.

The Not So New Roommate

So, I've had time now to really get to know my new roommate. Alas, many of the things that I thought about him have turned out to be wrong. He is, in fact, funny. I retract that I ever said that he wasn't. He also doesn't listen to Journey. He's more of a Foreigner type. He was born in a pumpkin patch though.

The Frozen

Most people who know will eventually see that I don't do well in hot weather. In fact, once it gets over 80 degrees, I start complaining and sweating. And then complaining about the sweating. Why am I talking about this in January, you ask? Good question. Normally, I like cold weather. Cold? Fine Snow? Better. Ice? Well... normally I don't have a problem with ice. I respect the ice, and the ice seems to respect me. (It doesn't make me slip on it like some people) But now, something sinister is happening. I've started slipping on ice much more. Yesterday, walking home, I must have slipped and almost fallen about a dozen times. This is not good. Have I lost my powers of cold weather mastery? Or is it just the ice? Is the ice betraying me? After all we've shared? The forecast does not look good, friends. No, it does not.

It's Technology, Jerk!

So, to go along with my occasional theme of devices breaking or being surly when I try to use them, this week I've had to deal with two. First, my car battery died and was unable to be resuscitated. I had to buy a new battery and then buy a socket wrench with which to install said battery. Secondly, my computer suddenly decided that it no longer believes that it is a computer. It seems to feel that it would better serve me as a standard lump of inert matter. Like a rock. Or a paperweight. Or a dead rat. Stupid computer.

New Roommate

I have a new roommate. He moved in the other day. I shook his hand and since then we've exchanged maybe 5 words. Here are the arbitrary things that I have decided about him based on absolutely no evidence.

1. He is not funny. How could he be?

2. He really likes Journey.

3. He was born in a pumpkin patch.

4. He has all the makings of a classic late 19th century anarchist.

5. If he were to fight a clone of Lenin, the clone would win.

6. He once glued his hand to a 1994 Buick LeSabre.