Monkeys on Wiener Dogs

Saturday, January 11 2003

I just found out about Andrew

 through Matt and spent a good time laughing. Longing for a pet miniature horse, swallowing flys, unzipped flys, getting sick from hot dogs – it’s all an eerie reminder of the things that happen to me that I always say “there’s one for the blog” but never get around to writing.

Lately I’ve been on this “gotta write smart sounding stuff” kick. I’m usually trying to convince people I’m smart, which I guess I don’t really need to do. First of all, I know I’m smart, and they probably do also, so why put on the smart guy show. And truth be told, I’m not as smart as a lot of people. I just catch on quick.

So, resolution number twenty-one – cut the crap. Talk about the time a seagull dropped a burrito on some dude’s head more often. Reminisce about the beloved Datsun 510. Talk about my heart twisting desire to have a halfpipe of my very own. Talk about the Fry’s dork who was convinced I’d lost my tan from being in Oregon too long by just looking at my California drivers license (as if I ever was tan in California).

Techie and political talk is fine and good, and I’ll do more of it, but I need to balance it more with what usually takes center stage in my mind – monkeys on wiener dogs and things of that nature.