Back in my first year of college someone busted out a ouija board at a party and I jumped in to help channel whatever lost spirit might be in the old house we were at.

Things were going well until the spirit spelled out C...U...N...T... at which point everyone around the board just glared at me.

Four posts without comments in a row.

It seems I have become culturally irrelevant already.

This is the second best thing I've seen all week!

Today is National High Five Day.

You know what must be done.

Having dinner with my parents monday night, my mother felt it her duty to complain about both her sons still being single. That I'm now 27 and my brother is 30, it's starting to seem pretty reasonable to her to complain about there being no sign of grandchildren on the horizon whatsoever though our response to her whining is usually that of shrugging our shoulders and changing the topic.

Even my aunt is in on it, going so far as talking up strangers to find out if they're single so that she can try and introduce them to us despite our complete lack of interest in such a hook up.

I should have realized that some women's biological clocks tick loudly enough for everyone around them.

Took a horse out for a spin this weekend just outside the city and learned how they totally own your ass when they break into a trot. That and my brilliant idea of having my camera bag on me made for a much more complicated than necessary first ride, but I learned enough to consider patrick stewart's advice that you wear pantyhose under your jeans to reduce chafing and friction.

See, if you've got them you might as well wear them.

I must say, I've never been more excited about celebrating jesus' death.

Even so, I suppose the idea of making a jesus pinata stuffed with a bag of wine would be in poor taste.

Seeing how I'm a stupid asshole, I thought it wise of me to share some advice with everyone.

• Do something nice for somebody today, even if it's just mentioning that their ass doesn't look as fat as usual in those pants. You don't even have to be sincere as long as they believe you.
• Stop your bitching and do something about it. Unless you're really lazy, then just bitching is ok.
• Buy some nice underwear. When your boys feel good, you'll feel good. (girls, this also applies to you except for the comfy balls part)
• Eat something simple and good and think about where it came from. 7-11 big bites do not count.
• Hug someone like you mean it. Not the bullshit nicety hug you're used to everyday; a real "I'm really close to humping you" hug.
• Paypal me some money. I can never get enough of the shit.
• Tell your parents that you're gay, even if you're not. That way you can find out whether they really love you or if they're just assholes.

Obviously some of these are better ideas than others. I'd start with the money sending and work up from there.

Upon arriving at the intersection of Granville and W. Georgia I witnessed, sitting crosslegged beside the hot dog cart a panhandler with his hands in his pockets and a cardboard sign in front of him asking for money.

Across the intersection, there's a legless panhandler with only stumps for arms totally given'r on an electronic keyboard sitting on a plastic milkcrate and managing to pull off some pretty respectable covers despite his lack of fingers while rocking a smile on his face.

One of these two motherfuckers needs to get a job.

Adventures around the world

eb: how's india so far?
ty: dood... I'm dying for meat
eb: are they all vegetarians in that area?
ty: they give me this curry veggie burger for lunch...
ty: and veggie sandwiches
eb: I am not fucking going to india
ty: Just bring beef jerky
ty: a whole suitcase full of it.
ty: pack a cow
ty: I'm sure they'll let it on the plane

Best.

Weekend.

Evar.