King Kong Ain't Got Shit on Me

Ape, aping, aped. When will that metaphor turned verb finally go extinct? Personally, I was fine with mimic or imitate. How long must I suffer before it goes out of style altogether?

Cliché, claim your dead.

An Idea

Born of imagination, carved by knife, takes form before substance. Shape whittled from gold. Scraps drop to floor in rugged shavings. Fact falls from fiction.

Saved by watchful eye, The Wasted sparks and melts to new life. Resurrection lacking original.

there is a god

Devastation of the suicidal variety rock your soul after learning about the cancellation of Frisky Dingo?

The will to live strike you, at least briefly, while watching the season premiere of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia?

If you somehow found yourself in this lucky state, as I did this past Thursday night at 10:00pm, and were simultaneously attracted by the hilarious "sneak-peek" intro ads on FX, you may have found spiritual Nirvana.

Adam Reed, the creator of Frisky Dingo, has, like a cockroach, survived the nuclear holocaust that was the cancellation of his previous effort and hypnotized FX in to allowing him to air content that somehow escaped the clutches of Adult Swim. In the process, Reed's new show, Archer, manages to captivate this member of the 18-24 demographic for yet another 30 minutes.

Unfortunately, both FX and I have to wait until January to reap the benefits.

Changing the Layout

I'm tweaking colors mostly right now and the lime green has got to go. The original layout was giving me background colors in strange places, so my main focus is to make the actual posts more readable. This requires me to create quite a few new variables because the "layout" I picked shares too many of its variables across the board.

I'm also going to have to create a new header image, because the one there is too... generic? Easy on the eyes? I'm not sure what I want really, and I even thought about keeping the blurry-nature theme. We'll just have to see. I haven't played around with Photoshop in a while, so things could get ugly.

In the end, maybe I'll write more. Otherwise, I'm just killing time 'til time kills me.

writing about not writing

i would like to write
i could find enough to say
maybe it's over

A Bridge

From nothing to nowhere.

The White Board

As I sit here, loathing my temporary workstation, I notice that a dry-erase board is mounted on the wall in front of me. Drawn on this board are several rectangles with open bottoms, apparently serving as borders for each of the letters: C, S, T and N. “X’s” and “O’s” seem to be haphazardly scattered around these triangles and lines with pointed arrows seem to indicate their trajectory.

It resembles the type of diagram you would see scratched on a chalkboard by a football coach; not what you would expect to be mounted across from the conference table at a law firm. I can not help but wonder what they were discussing with the client before I dragged my laptop, pens, legal pads and notes into the room. The drawing itself lends little to the imagination, but the mind happens to wander.

Perhaps it is a scale representation of the Enola Gay as it began its fatal approach toward Hiroshima, used as an allusion in a closing statement to illustrate the insurance company’s approach to litigating wrongful death claims?

Perhaps it depicts the best entry routes for attorneys and witnesses with a prospective seating chart that will be used to ensure the most dramatic arrangement of interested parties?

Perhaps I should stop staring at this damn board and get back to work?