Read 'em and weep.

Congratulations to...myself! I have two official followers now. MCK and Sir Bettencourt of Packardham. Additionally, two Dame's (Ms. Zimmermann and Ms. Cerrone of Fairfaxshire) have caught on to my rambling postings and also found them to be at least a little bit entertaining, or perhaps just a good way to kill time.

I do not mean to discount anyone else who has been reading about my gallavanting, or lack thereof, as evidenced by how much I post and also the mere fact that I have a blog, but those mentioned are the most recent readers (except for Mike, so really more like just Greg, Emily, and Lisa, to be to the point).

Read 'em and weep to Mike, I wonder how many people have been reading his posts? This finger pointing and bashing will undoubtedly backfire soon when he gets like 400 people following his great stories (evidence: (abridged and maybe partially misquoted) "No, they had to end early, some autistic kids had to use the pool." And, anything starting with, "Are you Mike Kinsella," and ending with something including the words, "brought," and "townies"). I don't expect any sort of reign over this realm to exist for more than a few weeks unless sir raggamuffin (oh, double burn) of Manhattanwood really slips up. Don't say I didn't call it ahead of time.

(Note: I added the previous paragraph and two lines above it after I wrote the following paragraph in reference to "killing time" (obviously derrrr...) so that's why this may seem a little randomly placed. However, I did say "call it ahead of time" at the end of the last paragraph, so even though it still doesn't fit at all, check me out, feigning continuity!).

Imagine that for a second, what if you could actually kill time to make it pass more quickly, what would we even do? This is like thinking about how telescopes can see galaxies that are 10,000 light years away, so that when we see it it's actually a 10,000 light year old image, and that galaxy may not even exist anymore by the time the light bouncing off it hits the telescope lens, smacks onto our retinas, gets flipped right side up and left to right (translation over the Y-axis, yeahhhhh bitches!), and the message gets sent on over to our visual cortices. Then perhaps if we think for a second, we'll use that visual association cortex when we try to remember that image from the NYtimes showing that galaxy, and try to come to terms with the ridiculousness of this both the last 5 or so sentences, and also the fact that we can see that galaxy as it was that long ago, it may not exist 'currently,' and also they (if there is life there) may not even be able to see US yet in our current state, they'll be seeing us as we were 10,000 light years ago. And for the final mind trashing, how old's the earth? Is there a situation where we can see them but they cannot see us yet because we haven't been around long enough? Or something along these lines? Feel free to discuss/comment, and then put a bowl over your head to keep your brains from going everywhere.

Nerd check...affirmative ("In the future we do not say yes...we say...affirmative"--kudos to anyone that can figure out where that came from. Clue: Murray, Jermaine, Brit, Daft Punk).

My freakazoid tendencies have been outted! Did anyone know I had that, yes, I'm sure someone did, and now it becomes apparent yet again. Let's just be brief here and say, I am crazy. But, I like to think at least, only when something really matters to me.

My mom told me to take things one step at a time to get through, totally works if you can compartmentalize everything and go through things bit by bit, and also, something along the lines of think before you act and don't make assumptions--she is right, but I'm not so good at the latter two quite yet. Or maybe I am doing okay and...I'm going to stop this for the time being before my head 'splodes. That was not brief. Let's be brief here and say, when it really matters to me I may take things too seriously too quickly, but only because I care so much.

I am tired, but my roommate, who could possibly be the "ticketmaster" himself, found tickets to tomorrow's Celtics game (as previously mentioned and bonkerified already), and asked if I wanted to go. Poll: Do I go to game, or do I go to trivia? You know what, truthfully, even if people did comment and make this poll meaningful, I'll probably make up my mind on my own anyway, sorry. But more importantly, HOLY CRAP HOW DID HE GET TICKETS. Man after my own heart I swear to Mike Bibby bricking every shot tomorrow and then Kevin Garnett making what he did with José Calderon's head look like child's play in a Fisher Price and Playskool commercial combined into one big, smushy (not smushy babies), babyfest. If Bibby just broke down and cried (see: Sasha 'you can call me the machine (go fuck yourself)' Vujacic (spelling? Simply do not care enough to quickly google that) after getting ruined, absolutely ruined, in the paint by an aging yet still 'he got game' Ray Allen in the playoffs last year), because the fans at the garden (maybe me too!!) boo him every. single. time. he touches the ball (which is what will happen, I guarantee it, even though it is not the playoffs yet), the world will not simply just be a better place, but--remember how the Grinch's heart shrinks and cracks or whatever in "How the Grinch Stole Christmas"? and then how later when he becomes good, it grows and explodes the little case it's in?--yeah, picture the latter happening to my heart if what I just talked about happens to Bibby. Okay that was a little evil, but you get my drift, I'm not that mean, I just don't want him to have any confidence to run an offense, play defense, handle the ball, or continue to date Eddie House's...cousin? Sister in law I think.

Anyone else think this last guy just looks like Mike Myers (the Halloween kind) if he spent too much time blowing up balloons while wearing red pj's?

I'd also really like to put a picture up of Mike Bibby where I draw tears all over his face, but I'm not sure if that's allowed ("Custard's last stand!!"...I mean..."Custar's last stand!!"...it was like the trail of tears...). That'll never get old. Apologies all around to those of you that were smart enough to a) not paint yourself blue and white, b) not go to a soccer game shirtless in November, c) not be the only fans with with vocal abilities asking/proclaiming that Kraft field is NOT, in fact, Tisch Library.

We actually have "Go" and "Tufts" written on our chests, and I have a picture where you can see that more clearly, but I decided to use this picture so you can see how lame Deeg is in this one on the the left. Note the use of sweatshirt and hood, lack of number one holding uppage, and utter lack of paint on face.

12:46am, time for bed. Actually, now that I've added all those pictures and extra goodies, it's 1:04am, welcome to the suck, oh well this is more fun than being fully awake at work. So, bed, and I leave you with these items:

♫ http://www.27bslash6.com/overdue.html and http://ismccainpresident.com/

Yeah, I'm going to have to find out how to insert links into these things. Good morrow to ye'all.