• Exhaustive review finds no link between Saddam, al Qaida - Yahoo! News
  Christopher Hitchens and Sean Hannity must be so depressed.

• The Daily Dish | By Andrew Sullivan
  “Saying that Hillary has Executive Branch experience is like saying Yoko Ono was a Beatle,”

I’m so disgusted by what I’ve just read that a post will actually have to wait until this evening. If I were to write the post now, it would be nothing but pure, unadulterated, vitriolic hate.

Texas House Bill 3678 .

• best of craigslist : to the guy doing my wife
  5.After doing my wife please use something disposable to wipe off with. The basket of clothes on the right is mine and the clothes are clean as my wife does not do my washing, Irun out of time rushing to work. Last week my sweatshirt was crusty(thanks).

Why, oh why, can’t our T.V. be as cool as the U.K.’s?

Several months ago, I bought what I thought was a twelve GB jump drive from Monstor. It looked like a Zippo lighter, and let me repeat, it held twelve GB of data. Total nerdgasam.

Here’s where the problem occurs: In reality it wasn’t a flash drive but an actual hard drive, complete with moving internal parts. Why should that matter? Well, it’s generally not a good idea to throw around a hard drive all willy-nilly. Or put it in a backpack and walk around with it bumping and colliding with pens and pencils and all the other shit I carry around. Hard drives have moving platters inside them, not to mention articulator arms and all kinds of little moving bits, all of which are susceptible to shock and damage.

I’m sure you can see where all this is going. That’s right, today my totally rad Zippo drive suddenly started making wacky little whirring noises, and even more maddening, the computer would not recognize it. Oh, sure, the little blue light would illuminate when I plugged it into the USB slot, but nothing would happen. Normally I save files on both the desktop hard drive and the flash drive, but since mid-term grades are coming up I haven’t had time to backup the Zippo drive.

Yeah. My grades and my grade reports suddenly refused to open. So I got pissed, and I took the stupid thing apart. Now remember, I thought I had a flash drive, so imagine my surprise when I saw this:

That ain’t a flash drive.

So now I have a day to come up with grades to turn in for mid-term.

On the bright side, I did find this nifty little service that syncs all your Microsoft Docs with Google Docs. I just got finished uploading almost five hundred documents from my local hard drive to Google Docs. Hopefully this shit won’t happen again.

• Uncle Dirty– A Photoessay
  Uncle Dirty: an 86 year old, former body builder who builds trains, sew and wear thongs, cut and paste penises onto magazine adverts, and grease-up his once majestic body with baby oil. There are some NSFW pics of an old man, but it’s….interesting?

It’s ten past eleven at night. I’m sitting in my recliner with the computer in my lap watching “Good Eats” (the Spinach Salad episode). Ellie’s sleeping soundly under her favorite down blanket on the couch. In a few minutes I’ll probably make myself a Nutella-sandwich and wash it down with a big glass of cold milk.

By all accounts I should feel pretty content.

But I don’t. I’m simultaneously anxious and depressed, and no matter how much Excedrin I take, my damn head just will not stop throbbing.

Since this blog isn’t a cyber-substitute for therapy, I shan’t elaborate further, but I will say that before I tuned in to A.B. I made the idiotically tragic mistake of watching some election coverage. Answer me this: Is Sean Hannity serious? Surely his show is a parody of some sort. And what the fuck is up with Larry King? I’m not sure he’s even paying attention to his guests anymore. Rosario Dawson was on his show tonight promoting her organization, “Voto Latino,” and while she was talking Larry abruptly and inexplicably cut to a promo. I think Larry forgot he was talking to someone. And if Paul Begala’s smile gets any wider the sides of his mouth will touch his freakin’ earlobes.

Leigh and I plan on voting tomorrow. Part of me is excited to participate in a primary where Texas, and my individual vote, actually matters.

But the Gen-Xer in me just knows that the system will never allow a candidate who actually cares about the American people to get into office. My generationally imbued-cynicism keeps whispering in my ear, “Forget hope…Forget change…Expect the same…Expect the same…”