Photo Friday: Rest.

For this week's Photo Friday challenge, Rest. It's a kitty on an old bench outside of the Makanda Country Store from last summer. I know, after the last post, who'd think I post a photo of a kitty? Don't worry, it's not Mr. Kittensmootch or any of his offspring. It's really a re-posted photo from another post. Sorry to be lazy. I need to hit the post office and fast. I suppose you know why. My secret is to hit the tiny one in Makanda, rather than the riot in Carbondale. It's too nice of a day (and Friday to boot) for that mess.

Selfish blogging.

Check out this post from Frozen Toothepaste. He has got some good points there about the selfishness of personal blogs. They can get pretty me me me sometimes. Too often. Like the Kitty Bloggers and the Baby Bloggers. Who really cares what Mr. Kittensmootch or Baby does every single day? Publishing a post about something really cute Mr. Kittensmootch did or about a milestone in Baby's life is one thing. Even I can appreciate that. But recording the life of a feline or archiving a public list of every little outfit Baby wears is madness. No one really gives a shit if Baby wore purple pants today or if Mr. Kittensmootch took a shit in your underwear drawer. If you love Baby so much, pay Baby some more attention. Baby might put his little finger in the socket while you're fucking about on the internet. I though raising children was a full-time job, which is why I don't ever want any progeny. Seriously, though, sometimes I prefer the selfishness of personal blogs. Sometimes I think it's almost lazy when people have blogs that are totally politics/reviews/etc. Maybe not lazy, but not all that interesting. None of the author in there, and that's why we read blogs. At least why I do. I'm not saying that no one has a right to blog about Baby, Mr. Kittensmootch, Mrs. Woofcakes or anything else they want to. I am guilty of blogging about some pretty useless and uninteresting shit. I'm sure. Don't tell me, though. I'm deluding myself. Maybe we bloggers should consider whether the events and photos that we publish for the world to see are really interesting to other people. I know, there is someone somewhere who can find anything interesting. But come on. You know what I mean. I don't hate babies, though I'm not fond of cats and how they make my eyes swell shut if I touch them. Maybe we should show some restaint or common sense or something before we bare the boring parts of our lives for people to be burdened with. But then again, such considerations or rules would damage the spirit of blogging, i.e., the freedom to put whatever you want to on your blog. We forget that sometimes, and we want people to post what we feel comfortable with on their blogs, such as this instance of people forgetting that a blog is not a free-speech forum for anyone but the creator (props to A for not deleting the post; he is an awesome guy). What right do I have to tell someone to stop blogging about their baby or kitty or car or god or sexual disfunction? No one forces any of us to read anything that someone writes. I just like be an asshole sometimes. There are some great bloggers out there,* and there are a thousands pages of shit from not-so-good bloggers for each of them. Here's to another page of total shit. [*Including dozens that I link to and that didn't get randomly selected from my blogroll to paste in those there fancy coding acrobatics.]

Russian Space Pen, a gag.

This is extremely funny, though incorrect, along with the rumor that NASA paid for the development of the Fisher Space Pen and the rumor that the Russians – being more pragmatik – than the Americans, simply used pencils in space rather than spending millions of dollars trying to develop a pen that could write in space. I think the implication is that we were not far enough ahead of the Russians because of things like spending money on a pen that could write upside down. Mr. Fisher spent his own money on developing the Space Pen, and NASA never asked for it. He is a neat guy who likes to tinker with things, and that’s it. Same goes with the rumor about Russian space pencils. It’s simply not true. The Russians use Space Pens in space just like we do. The metal graphite in pencils poses a threat to equipment, and the Russians know that as well as we do. Now you know. But still, those space pencils are really funny.

Bandwagon from space.

Cause I know you wanna know where I live. (Click to enlarge the photo.) It seems that everyone is posting the image of where they live from space from Google's newest gear. So I will, too, lest I be a web-wall-flower, too, like I tend to be in real life. Real life. That's what this is a photo of. It is, after all, where I sleep and poop. Thing is, the red arrow points across the street from the little lane of tiny apartment buildings where I live. The yellow box is where I actually am when I am typing this. My little home. Green around here, huh?

Photo Friday: Plastic.

For Photo Friday: Plastic. I'm used to seeing trails on the East Coast marked with a blob of a certain color spray paint on trees. When I was a Boy Scout, the trails at our camp where called by their colors, not by where they led or began or meandered. The Blue Trail was where we went to smoke, so-called because of the color on the trees. It was not called the Behind the Pool Trail by anyone. I have not been there since my last year of college, but I believe that the C & O Canal trail in the Maryland mountains is marked with stumpy foot-high mile-markers that are colored a sort of dirty sangria red. Don't walk into one of those. Or try to sit on one. Some of the trails at Giant City State Park here in Illinois have these high-tech and flexible plastic trail markers, thus the photo. Do they have the elasticity to, say, throw a rock like a catapult at your old college roommate who is town for a visit? No, I tried. They are soft on the recoil. I suppose that's so that they won't knock you in your fellas if the person in front of you pulls it down on their way by, like a thorn bush to the groin. Safety first and all that. (Enlarge the photo to see a nice couple in the background.)

Template props.

I swear that I have never ever seen any blog anywhere on any server etc. that changes its look more than this one does. This time, I was inspired by Gary's Flow. I began with the Blogger Minima template, tweaked the code beyond recognition, and here it is, sans banner image. I like the trim, unsullied look of white for now. For now. You know I'll go nuts on something else before the summer hits. You know it. Expect it.

Leaving my mark.

People really like to leave their marks at Giant City State Park, from Civil War soldiers to rednecks, tourists and bored frat boys. While I am not brave enough, stupid enough, callous enough or strong enough to carve my name into the rocks of the Giant City, I did leave a mark in the park this weekend on one of the over-looks above the bluffs. To the "Mark Loves Ashley" and "Fuck Bush" tagging, I added my name with a Space Pen, lightly and in shakey capital letters. Honestly, my handwriting is better than that on paper, when my low blood-sugar is not making my hands shake. Promise.

Beer buzzed blandness.

I know. The template is horrible. It's a modified version of a very generic template. But I needed to get rid of the black. It's too nice and sunny around here now for that darkness. Hell, it's in the mid-70s. But I'm a little too...loose now to really mess with concocting a better template. Sam Adams Boston Ale (not the usual Lager) is a very nice treat today. I got up at 5:30 in the morning, to see my parents off before their long trip back to Maryland, and being awake before dawn like that it is not like me. If I see dawn, it's always before bed, with the growing trouble sleeping I've been experiencing lately. I was actually falling asleep trying to work. That's tired, man. And the beer doesn't help, I know. Anyway, maybe Wednesday, when I am hiding in the room where the computer is while my wife has her little women's group over, I'll come up with something better. Maybe then. We'll see.

More on Starbucks.

Again, from the INeedCoffee.com newsletter. Only this piece is short and interesting and not likely to piss anyone off. I pass up allegedly-organic sludge for good coffee from Starbucks at the university everytime I need a fix. Let [s]he who likes not a nice cafe' au lait made with Verona throw the first non-corporate coffee stone. If [s]he can find one anywhere.

Photo Friday: Hot.

For this week's Photo Friday challenge, Hot. I know what you're thinking: What is so hot about pencil shavings? Well, do you know how hot manually sharpening that many pencils makes a person who has a full French press of coffee in them? If not, do this. Get yourself a Bodum pot (8-cup model) full of French roast. Quickly, sharpen 24 Prismacolor pencils with a nice little KUM sharpener. You'll know, and you'll appreciate it and the smells and tastes and textures. And you'll sweat. Because you will get hot.