This Blog Was Written in Front of a Live Audience

Ok, this is creepy. I’m here at a friend’s house, surrounded by my wife, my “running buddy”, Junior, and his mom. As I write this, they’re passing around comments about multi-legged functions (whatever that may mean) and dinner.

Appetizing thought, now ain’t it?

And, of course, I was just informed that “ain’t’s not a word”. Hmm… lemme see about that… Ah! here we go.

Edit might think ain’t’s a word, but OpenOffice sure doesn’t.

“You know, nobody likes a show off,” says Junior. “It’s just not nice sometimes — I’m not sure I like being quoted like this.”

And now, he’s trying to get back at me for this with his own blog — which he keeps on a sheet of paper. “I just pass it around to everybody. I’m sure it’ll come back to me in one piece.” That Junior… *in best “Triumph the Dog” voice* “What an imagination.” (See the Triumph/StarWars 2 video for more.)

Ok, I can’t type anywhere near fast enough to get what they’re saying. But the fact that you don’t have to cook Pop Tarts just came up in conversation. Wait… Junior just scribbled some crud on a piece of paper and exclaimed, “I just disproved the Internet.” *sigh*

Ok, the conversation is now moving to toaster strudels (sp?) and — hell, I’m just not listening to any of that. Instead, I’ll wonder about whether I should use Ubuntu instead of Mandrake for this computer. I have a DWL-650 B4 network card (PCMCIA/Wireless) and, for some reason, I can’t get the card to work on Mandrake 10.1. No word on whether it’ll work on Mandriva, but this version of 10.1 is running kernel version 2.4.27…

Wait, the conversation just subsided. Now they’re just looking at me. Except for Junior, because he’s being hypnotized by a “shiny, clicky thing.” The pen makers of the world are apparently in league with the status bar programmers in a plot to take over the world. Those sneaky little punks!

Ok, I’m being threatened by Junior. Deletion is imminent. With that — over and out. (I’ll spell check later.)

After looking at the site, Junior exclaimed, “Well, at least I’m not playing second banana to the rat,” although now he’s again been hypnotized by the shiny, clicky thing.

“Feel free to describe me as having Fabio-like hair and a chiseled body while you’re at it.” Said Jr.

“Is pudding chiseled?” I asked.

“It’s more like Jell-O.”

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