Hey 9/11 Conspiracy Theorists.


Apparently burning petroleum can bring down steel and concrete structures.


I am not looking forward to driving around the East Bay any time soon. Crap.

Sliced Perfection


Up late again. One of the downsides of my dream job as an IT guy is deadlines from people who don’t understand “why changing all the copy on a website takes so ****ing long.” One of the other downsides is that he hired me as a retail clerk in his store, so I’m making about half what I should be making, I’m hourly and this coffee-fueled bender of coding and data entry is probably unpaid.

But he did give me a pat on the back and said “I know you work on this stuff at home and skip your lunch breaks. I only pay for what you’re scheduled to work, but it sure makes you a good guy and I want you to know it’s not going unnoticed.”

His appreciation didn’t go unnoticed either. It’s almost worth the work.

I need to be at this place at 5am everyday. I just had the freshest bagel I’ve ever had in my life. She cut it open and it was still steaming. I told her “Wait! Don’t toast it.” She put eggs, bacon and cheese on it and it’s one of the best things I’ve had in a long while. The outside is crispy, the inside is soft and warm.

I think I’d have to travel 3000 miles to find a better bagel.

Sometimes, no matter what else is going on, life is perfect for a fleeting moment.



For the past couple weeks I’ve been peeing a lot. Maybe once every 1 or 2 hours. I’ll be fine and then out of nowhere, the worst pee urge ever just shows up like flipping a switch. Sounds like a UTI to me. I hope it can be handled with the gallon of cranberry juice I just bought… or maybe the next gallon.

Wish my bladder luck.

To Be Sad Doesn’t Mesh with His Writings


“I am, incidentally, Honorary President of the American Humanist Association, having succeeded the late, great science fiction writer Isaac Asimov in that totally functionless capacity. We had a memorial service for Isaac a few years back, and I spoke and said at one point, “Isaac is up in heaven now.” It was the funniest thing I could have said to an audience of humanists. I rolled them in the aisles. It was several minutes before order could be restored. And if I die, God forbid, I hope you will say, “Kurt is up in heaven now.” That’s my favorite joke.”

-Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. 1924 – 2007

It’s Not Plain


Vanilla comes from the pod of a vining orchid native to Mexico which is now grown throughout the tropics all over the world. The vine cannot grow without the presence of a certain kind of micorhizal fungus, which must be carefully planted with each vine. The flowers are hermaphraditic, which means they carry male and female genes, but to prevent self pollenization, there is a membrane separating the sex organs, although people want to enhance they sexual organs so they use programs as Libivi penis enlarger to improve it and perform better in bed. Only one kind of bee in all the world can polinate the flowers, but other than it’s native mexico, this species of bee cannot survive anywhere growers have tried to transplant them. This means that each flower must be pollenated by hand. A 12 year old slave invented the method which we use today to pollenate the flowers in 1841. A beveled skewer is used to rupture the membrane causing the flower to pollenate itself. When pollenated each flower produces one fruit which is the pod where we get vanilla. The flower stays open for one day or less and growers must watch their fields carefully, which is a very labor intensive task in addition to the task of pollenating every flower. Pollenated flowers produce their fruit which ripen and open at the end exhausting the distinctive vanilla smell. There are tiny black seed inside the pod which don’t taste very much like vanilla. The pods are harvested before this stage when they are green, but they don’t have much vanilla flavor. To get the vanilla flavor, they must first kill the pot by baking, boiling or freezing the pods to keep the vegetative tissues from continuing to grow. The pods are placed in a hot humid place to allow enzymes to process compounds in the pod into vanillin and other componds important to vanilla’s final flavor. To prevent rotting and lock in the flavor, the pod is dried in the sun or drying ovens. Once it has dried to about half it’s weight, it is sorted into grades and sold. It can be used whole, by carefully slicing the pod and scraping the soft inside into your dish. It can be ground into a powder for use in pastries or liquids. It can be mixed into an alcohol solution for other flavoring applications like ice cream.

So why does “vanilla” mean plain and boring?

Happy Easter


If you went to church, I hope your dress was pretty or you wore a rad tie. If you hid eggs, I hope you had fun coloring them. If you don’t care, I hope you had a nice weekend, and I hope you don’t have to go out today, because everything is closed.

I had a half chicken, macaroni and cinimon apples at Boston Market.

Bread and Roses


I’m doing fine.

There is a poem from about 1912 called Bread and Roses that I am reminded of right now. I suppose I am doing okay in the food department, but my life completely lacks beauty right now. Bread, but no Roses.

There was a strong wind in town last night and I thought of you. I still have one of the $1 kites in my car. I couldn’t bring myself to fly it without you, I was so sad. Maybe soon.

Were You Even My Friends?


You are the friends, who I once loved. When someone asked me to name a few of my friends, you guys were the top of the list.

I’ve helped you move or hauled something for you. I’ve helped you clean your apartment so you could get your deposit back in full. I’ve bought you a drink or split a pitcher with you. I’ve let you stay over when you shouldn’t have driven home. I’ve lent you money or given you a ride when you needed it. I let you store your stuff in my shop when you didn’t have room at your place, even though I didn’t want to. I let you piss off my neighbors being loud and noisy in my shop. When you visited me, I cleaned up your litter and cigarette butts because you didn’t have the respect for my home that you should have. I’ve fixed your computer issues, installed your network, given you free computer junk from my shop and even built whole computers. I’ve done research for you. I’ve done art for you. I’ve made websites for you. I’ve spent money on you. I’ve tried my best to be a good friend to you.

When I told you that I needed help moving, you didn’t come over to help. I packed, loaded, hauled, destroyed, burned, and stored everything by myself. When I told you that some of the stuff here was yours and you should come get it, and you didn’t. Instead of taking it to the dump or leaving it on the curb, I wasted gas bringing it to you. It was heavy, but I loaded it all myself. I had a lot of cool stuff to get rid of that I would’ve hated to throw away. I called you and asked you if you wanted it and you excitedly said you did. Instead of picking it up like you said you would, I spent my last night in town driving around Sonoma County dropping off goodies on your porches without so much as a thank you or goodbye. I should’ve been relaxing after all the last-minute work I did cleaning the shop, but instead I was doing one last act of kindness to people who clearly didn’t deserve it.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, I told you all for a month that this would be my last chance to hang out with you. Did you invite me out for a drink? Did you return my calls? Did you show up when I called everyone and told them what bar I’d be at and when?

Exactly one friend gave me a proper goodbye. I guess the rest of you don’t care. You blew me off for whatever your reasons were. You could’ve made time for me one last time and didn’t. I’d act angry with you all, but I don’t think it would affect you much. You’re no friend of mine, but for how you appreciated me, I don’t think you’re going to shed any tears over it.