Today's News 21 January 1999

1:19 PM: Heh.

(from the front door of Wired News)
Mr. Potatoe Head
"I am uniquely positioned and prepared to be president." With that declaration to the Indianapolis Star News, former Vice President Dan Quayle set the stage for his announcement that he'll be making a run for the White House next year. Quayle, that notoriously poor speller and master of the malaprop, told the paper that he'll announce his candidacy for the Republican nomination on Thursday's edition of The Larry King Show. "I can assure you I am serious," he said. "I am committed." Well, he should be.

6:40: Hmm. Zu: Warriors From The Magic Mountain is playing tonight, and that's silly. But on the other pseudopod I'm so [un]sleep-blitzed that, um .....

Oh! Hi. What? Oh yes. Spacedness. I tried, you know, I did try. I set the alarm and everything. But this scheduled activity, it is not familiar to me. I managed to remember to set the alarm for AM and not PM, but then forgot to check that the clock was set up correctly as well. But if it wasn't before how come it didn't work? Well, the past is reruns. What did not happen was the alarm going off on time this morning, after me waking up 3 times prior, "Is it time yet? Oh, good, more sleep." I got a whole, touch fingers, 7 hours sleep even. So I don't know what my problem is.

There was a point to all of this.

7:51 I think the point was that I wasn't going to the movies. Which I didn't.

There's this weird trend in Web journalism, or else just in my mind: If something is being written by a woman under a certain age, 95% sure there will be a reference to "my boyfriend" in it. No matter what the topic is. "I asked my boyfriend what he thought about Kosovo and he just grunted. This is typical of the reactions of most Americans."

Is this a defense mechanism? Is it just what being properly socialized is like? Or is it like waving an engagement ring in the general direction of your audience's faces?

8:45: Money. I need yours. Give it to me.

Damn I'm tired of waiting for this paycheck. I can tell I'm getting BuyBuyNow! Fever, and if I don't get some cash to go on a (relatively) harmless spree at Borders or Tower, I'm going to end up buying a $3000 laptop or something. Well, presuming I find someone foolish enough to give me credit. How do you people manage to buy cars all the time?

One of these days I'm going to have to try to track down that $10,000 IRA that I kind of, um, lost. Well, I didn't lose it. My bank sold it to some other bank in fucking Massachusetts, they didn't ask me about it. Then someone else bought my bank and closed all the branches, and probably had a wienie roast with the old records. Lucky I'm such a solid citizen, otherwise they might not believe me. "No, honest, I had $10,000 right here, and now it's gone! Couldn't you just give me the money now and then you guys could find it later?"

9:51: I'm watching scripts run again and I got bored, so I lemminged my way through that survey that everyone is doing. (That's a link to it.) (I was going to just include it here but it's too long.)

10:25: Oh, Jesus:

Conservatives Attack Pat Robertson's Clinton Remark

"If Pat Robertson said, in fact, it's time for the Republicans to give up -- and give in -- to Clinton, my membership in the Christian Coalition is over," said Hazel Staloff, a computer worker from Brooklyn. "I don't think the party can be hurt when it stands for what is right. It can only be hurt when it compromises with evil."

[...]

Across the river at the Capitol, Rep. Henry Hyde, R-Ill., the lead prosecutor, said Robertson's comments "shows that we're not tools of the Christian Right. We don't necessarily always agree with everything that Pat Robertson says."

Hah. Great, that's just great, Henry. It makes all feel better to know that you're more insane than Pat Robertson. But, I suppose, you wouldn't want to compromise with evil or anything. At least, not until it's fund-raising time again.

Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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