So I was unboxing and shelving catfood, and throwing the cardboard on the floor, when I heard a flurry of excited meowing.
“No sympathy for the devil; keep that in mind. Buy the ticket, take the ride…and if it occasionally gets a little heavier than what you had in mind, well…maybe chalk it up to forced consciousness expansion: Tune in, freak out, get beaten.”
“When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.”
— Hunter S. Thompson
Last night as Hannah and I were just falling asleep came a horrible squawking from the chicken coop. Unusual enough by itself, but it happened again. And again. “Shall I go check it out?” “Yes, please, right now.” Hannah replied. I grabbed the flashlight from my desk and held it to the back window, sweeping the yard. Just at the corner of the coop two amber eyes gleamed back at me. LARGE eyes.
“Hannah? I need a robe and my keys. Now please.”
Pulled on pants, robe, grabbed what turned out to be a cobweb duster, and ran barefoot to the back yard. The racoon had already mounted the wall and was ambling north. I waved blue bristles in his direction and made noises like a bear with bad diarrhea. He stared at me in what appeared to be contempt, either for the ridiculous noises I was making or for my lack of adequate armament I couldn’t be sure. Nevertheless I continued to push forward and he continued to avoid me. Eventually he threw me a final dirty look over his shoulder and disappeared into my neighbors yard.
This morning, I went and bought two things that I’d never had reason to own: A high-power BB rifle and slip-on boots.
I got no small amount of shade walking through the mall with my purchases. One older woman in overalls eyeballed me and sucked her teeth in disapproval. I made sure to give her a sunny smile and a V for victory. Now that I’m home and I have this strange thing next to my bed do I realize that I’ve one more trapping of being a farmer:
Recently I listed some furniture for sale on craigslist, including my address and the amount desired. This afternoon I got the following email:
Am still interested in the item, but the only delay i am having now is your mailing address so that i can be able to mail out the payment to you, please kindly get back to me with the following information such as….
The Mailing Address including your Zip code
Your cell Phone number as well.
Last Asking Price:
Please kindly get back to me as soon as possible so i will be able to forward the information to my secretary so the payment can be mail out to you.
I will be looking to read from you quickly.
Haha sure why not.
2600 Marble Ave NE
Albuquerque, NM, USA
I suspected that would be the end of it, until:
Your real name is
Delighted, I responded:
NO! Gosh, I always thought I was adopted! How did you know?!?
They weren’t so amused:
You will die i will stangel you with your mothers intestines fuck you
But I’m not letting them get away so easily.
YOU KNOW MY MOTHER?! This is the better news than I could’ve ever hoped for!
Is she pretty? Does she miss me? Does she need furniture too??
Stay tuned boys and girls on this developing family reunion!
A small excerpt from a guide I wrote this morning:
Setting Session-level credentials in a Browser Driven Script..
Doesn’t work. I opened a case with Vendor A, 12345, in which they said “Talk to Vendor B.” I opened a case with Vendor B, 54321, in which they said, “Talk to Vendor A.”
So don’t ask.
I’m a firm believer that documentation should reflect the character and attitudes of those who write it. I’m still trying to find a way to include “Pipe Wrench” in this morning’s work.
Kid comes to the door: “Ya wanna buy chocolate for a dollar?”
No ‘Hi my name is’, no ‘I’m doing bla for school’, no warmup at all. Just ‘Buy my candy, bitch.’
OK sure I’ll play along. I’ll buy one of your shitty candybars kid. What’s this for?
Nice. Whadya play?
BASS! Hell yes! You know who Les Claypool is?
[QUEUE DAVE HARRASSING A POOR MIDDLESCHOOLER WITH PRIMUS VIDEOS FOR 15 MINUTES]