Ok, so I’m up early and I’m going over some notes and files and seeing what I haven’t posted in the recent past that I fully meant to and I came across a few things. I know, I will have the finale to my long-winded and perhaps wrong-headed article on stupid ideas for healthcare reform posted as promised, just consider the last 10 days a gimme and get over it. Besides, I bet if you read that post again, as I have just now, you’ll find that I seem to actually make sense. So you know you’re going nuts, too.
Anyway, here are two things that I wanted to post. First, a clipping of a conversation that I was having with my friend Casper. It’s pretty self-explanatory:
I figure that should generate some lovely hatemail, and I can only hope it includes curses from the Biblical Curse Generator which has been thoroughly wonderful at helping me describe how I feel without using the word ‘fuck’ over and over this past week.
Now the second is a bit more disturbing, at least to me, as it would seem to hold the key to my soul. I was up waaaaaay too late and couldn’t get to sleep so I was catching up on reading several of the blogs that I enjoy. I had gotten to Blurbomat, home to the husband-like-appliance in the dooce household, and Jon is a pretty amazing writer, artist, random-word-of-the-day-with-sprinkles kinda blogger, kinda like his wife. So anyway, he had written something that I felt the need to comment on – but apparently it was about time for me to sleep, so in mid-sentence I crashed. I awoke nearly 2 hours later, laptop on my face, only to find that I hadn’t finished my comment, and had instead typed a bit of, um, well, you decide:
No for real, read it again.
Um, yeah. I have no idea either. The fact that I can pronounce “bhabitatae” is the chocolate frosting on this one.