BIG IDEAS: Imogen Heap's Floating Houses

Stoner idea! But what the heck! Let's all float people ala- alapaap! Wahoo!

My skin is covered with sharp spikes

And the rattlesnake said,

"I wish I had hands -- so

I could hug you like a man."

And then the cactus said,

"Don't you understand,

My skin is covered with sharp spikes

That'll stab you like a thousand knives.

A hug would be nice,

But hug -- my flower with your eyes."

- Tree Hugger, Kimya Dawson

I wish I had more time to write.

As it is, it's already 1:11 a.m. I have to update all my blogs, or all my online self-publishing endeavors. One day, I'm gonna sit down all night, all day, all week to do just that and then some. One day.

Project 2010

It's clean slate day and I'm unveiling my 2010 daily photo project (among others!).

I was thinking of inserting it here, but since this blog is a bit topsy-turvy and I couldn't make it otherwise, since I got to have all these baggage like links, causes, rss feeds and what-not, so it's probably best to have a dedicated blog just for it: 2010 Daily Me.

I drink your milkshake 2010!

Clean slates. Don't we all just love them?

2010. I claim thee.

Mangaun Ta

Seafood Pasta.

Mangagda na ko ron. Kay naay masuko ug dili agdahun. Haha. Basta ajaw lang ka tando. Haha.

I'm rich, bitch

I'm not sure about this. I'm rich, apparently. So says The Global Rich List.

One thing I'm sure though, is that there are way more people way more worse off than I am. That doesn't make me grateful. It makes me sad. Sad that I couldn't help. I'm not helping. Because I know I'd rather do that.

Happy Holidays!

Creation - Official Trailer [HD]

I'd like to see this. I'm a Darwinian. His works are some of my favorite subjects back in school. Still is. Evolution rocks.

I know how I got here.

To a year more of crap!

This is day 365 of marooning myself in a desert-island, a self-exile of sorts, and not with any one of my top-five-all-time-desert-island favorites - allow me to be offensive. Imma spatter my gut-shit outwardly, this could be bloody.

A year has gone. One more to go. I'm still here because I have to. Hello no, I don't have to be here. But it just might be. Or I die. But I'm dying here anyway, little by little, in tiny, tiny increments.

What the fuck was I thinking? What the fuck was I thinking?

I'm here because of the job, and that need to get away, but for the work mostly, but what the fuck, I'm getting nothing, gaining nothing. Let's not even talk about the dough. No sense of gratification, fulfillment and what-not. Not even some sort of upgraded knowledge. Nada. Worse, it's probably dumbing me down, too, Mother Earth forbid.

This is exactly why I don't say much about the work, because everything's rubbish. And I just get all upset. And just spew vile all over the place. You don't need this. People don't need this. Fuck.

And I get stuck with the lamest gaggle of whatnots, too. Damn it, it would've made a huuge difference otherwise. Like whooot? Just freakin shoot me. Or I'll shoot me myself. Puhlease.

Please don't ask me how I'm doing. I'm not doing anything. No news from me, means there really is no news from me. Yes, for a freakin whole year. Merde.

A year ago today, I said goodbye to life. I didn't die. I'm in a brain-only cryonic suspension. Only they put me in the oven, not the freezer.

People like me are soo full of crap, soo darn hopeless. Seriously. We languish in misery. I know I do. And that's wretched. Damn.