Thursday, January 31, 2008

Ahem. An Intro.

No time like the present...

Sitting in this meeting cavern, within a Tullys, I am venturing into something that is waaay overdue. Blogging. I've stood at the threshold of this world of free thought and internet submission many times. Poking around, but not too hard (as is my usual means of prodding), my aspirations of writing something consistently, in a public forum, have never come to fruition.

Why is that?

Long story, short: because.

Do blogs need to have a consistent theme to be compelling? Oh, how about snide commentary on celebrity happenings, or maybe just pop-culture? A direct portal to inner happenings and thoughts of an individual, a public diary? I suppose you could post stories, or articles, pictures, links, a conglomeration of all that an individual finds interesting.

Musings?! Gotta have those.

The audience, do they have to be accounted for? At this stage, I think not.

(rac)coons n 'crete

Here's a situation, for thought:


You awake to find yourself in the confinements of a drained pool. It looks clean and aside from a well used push-broom, you're definitely the only resident of the deep end. 10 feet of sloped concrete does not make for an easy exit. In fact, without rope or a minimum 40" vertical (and a running start), shit's impossible. The only exit is to go from deep to shallow and climb the ladder to steady ground. It's dark, with a dash of light and from your spot below the surface dawn vs. dusk isn't exactly distinguishable. What IS (at least) semi-distinguishable, in your line of sight, is a stirring group of critters. Milling about, the unidentified creatures's territory lies just before the point of the pool you've decided you could climb out at. Vision adjusted, the unidentified have been identified as a pack of not-so-happy-to-be-in-the-empty-pool raccoons. Two look to be the size of well fed housecats, three others look as if they've dined on the finest of fine trash for the better part of their lives and could register 30 pounds, if a scale were on hand. Rounding out the group are what you presume are young ones, maybe adolescents; three of them.

Snarl, snarl, gnash, gnash.

They're angry, hell maybe even thirsty for man blood (fuck if you know). Point is… this group of 8 raccoons will not allow you passage.

How do you escape and how long will it take?

My man cBase, when in this situation, quoted a raccoon massacre that took no longer than 7 seconds, thanks to the expert like wielding of a skewerin' pole that had once been a push-broom. Not to mention a good deal of fortune. My personal approach includes a brutal dispatching of the raccoon I've deemed the biggest and nastiest bugger of the bunch… followed by intimidation and finger pointing. Depending on the effectiveness of this plan, I'd say I need no longer than 3 minutes.

Moving along...

In other news:

- Do yourself a favor and get wrapped up in the 4th season of Lost, it starts tonight. There should be a recap show that will paint a nice, neat picture of what you need to know.

- If I'm not watching it live, it will because I'm at Key Arena being a witness of King James for the first time.

- Mull this over, maybe I'm out of line, but I don't think that two grown men should both order hot chocolates from the coffee merchant, at 1:30 in the afternoon. Whipped cream included? You sure as hell betcha.