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Saturday, June 26, 2004



Hey, y'all-

Just a pic of some street art that I noticed popping up around work (corner of Westlake & Republican for this one). Very cool shit; tiles of goneaway street scenes, fractured, slightly rebuilt, embedded in concrete, worked into the sidewalk in a more or less permanent kinda way. A very Jet City kinda grafitti; a little artsy, a little arrogant, a bit too precious, but fundamentally cool regardless.

How's everyone been?

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Monday, June 21, 2004

Okay, so, yeah, okay, it's been a few days. Sorry 'bout that.

See, I got this bike:



(MUCH better catalog pic can be found here)

And I've been blowing tires on it ever since (3 at this point, although one of them was Joe Young's fault as he managed to poke a hole in the tube on a test ride after adjusting the derailuer), which, really, has been keeping me busy as all hell. I shouldn't have had the tires off a new bike quite this many times, in my opinion.

Anyway, so here's a cool pic of south Lake Union as a storm front's rolling in (part of my walk from the bus stop to work):



And one of the fucking parking garage Paul Allen's building up the block from work. This one scares me, 'cause right now there's plenty of parking on Westlake Ave. N, and that he's putting up such a big structure makes me wonder what else he's got planned for the neighborhood. Oy:



Yeah, so between popped tires and storm fronts and parking garages, I've had a little too much going to worry about blogging. And then, just to nail it down, me n' Buttons took this car:



(Can you believe that thing's a Kia?)

...and headed South to her Dad's joint for Pappa's Day, where I ate fish and she ate pork and we played with the new puppy, Maggie:



...who is a helluva lot cuter than this pic might indicate. But she's squirmy and manic and nearly fucking impossible to get a picture of when you're A.)using a cameraphone & B.) trying to keep her from biting your nose off.

Yeah, okay, a cutesy post. There'll be something of substance next time, swear.

Have I mentioned that it's 90 trillion degrees in Seattle the last couple days? Yup. And nobody in this town's got a/c...

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MOJAVE, Calif. — SpaceShipOne hurtled into space this morning, marking the first time a private, manned rocketship has left the Earth's atmosphere.

The short flight, which rocketed the craft an estimated 62 miles above the Earth, took place before 11,000 people who arrived in the desert before sunrise to watch the event.


Okay, I've said it before, but...

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...


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File under About Goddamned Time:

HARTFORD, Conn. - Connecticut Gov. John G. Rowland, the subject of investigations into alleged corruption and facing possible impeachment, will announce his resignation Monday night, an administration source told The Associated Press.

The governor was planning to announce his resignation on a live television address to the state at 6 p.m., the source said Monday, speaking on condition of anonymity.


Suck my sweaty white ass and die, you squarehead bitch.

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Monday, June 07, 2004

Okay, since I work for a dedicated Scientologist I receive roughly 8 billion pieces of Church of Scientology propaganda each week, so as a treat for y'all, I'll be occasionally posting choice quotes from what shows up in ye olde mailbox.

Today, we've got a passage from "The Criminal College" by ye olde money-grubber, L. Ron Hubbard, describing a young hoodlum facing the bench for a small-time crime:

Society does not want him. He was right!

In a most lofty fashion, a judge on a bench, wondering what his wife will have for dinner, has completed the metamorphosis of the youth's ideals.

He is a rpe freshman for the Crime College. No professor of hooeyology was ever confronted with such an ardent student.


This passage was included for the term "hooeyology." Goddamn. The man had a way with words, no?

The essay "The Criminal College" was included with a letter requesting $40 to help get one of 1000 inmates at Corcoran State Prison in Cali into (and one supposes, through) the Criminon program and, in the words of "W.N" (an inmate graduate of the program, I have to guess), "With time and practice I will become stonger and survive, flourish and prosper as a decent individual conscious of a better me, hopeful of happiness." Also, I find it odd that the mailing lacks any actual details about what the fuck the Criminon program does to turn criminals into happy, well adjusted people. I guess if you're a Scientologist you just know, and if you're not, you're just a fucking moron who's gonna work for the Scientologists as a cabin boy for the next billion years.

And, y'know, helping career criminals start being something else is something I can totally get behind, but LRH wrote with great intensity about "infiltrating" damn near every organization on the planet, and the Scientologists have already been kicked out of public schools on the West Coast (although I've got to imagine that Clearwater, FL, Ground Zero for the American Scientologist movement, is fulla kids who know Dianetics better than geometry), so I'd worry about the ulterior motives here. Seriously, do the Scientologists really need an army of ex-cons desperate for the $250,000 or so they'll require to "get up the Bridge"? For real, man. I don't want to meet up with a felon with multiple assaults on his record looking for the $1500 he needs for his Purif...

Right. Enough cult bashing for the evening. Y'all have some fun, and I'll talk to you soon.


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Sunday, June 06, 2004

Hey, y'all-

Yeah, haven't had much to write about, the last few days. Picked up my new bike (Diamondback Topanga, for those who know the bicycles) on Thursday and then had to walk it home from the U Village with a flat front tire. Immense pain in the ass, and not the greatest of all possible omens, but we'll see.

Also, went and saw the recut of DONNIE DARKO last night, and I must recommend it. More complete, I think, than the original. Perhaps a bit more convoluted, but more clear for that. Yeah, just go see it.

Also, found some funky, funky shit about the Church of Scientology at Operation Clambake. Now, this is of some concern for myself, as I work for and with a number of Scientologists, but, really, it's some pretty fucking scary reading for just about anybody out there who's got a thing about cults.

Plus, I have to admit, Scientologists apparently like to threaten people who say bad shit about their stuff, and, really, I could use the excitement. Somehow, I've got the feeling I could wipe the floor with any number of cultists, eerie mind powers or no...

Have fun, y'all, and I'll be back soon.

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Wednesday, June 02, 2004

This:

It's a classic movie scenario — two sexy stars rip each other's clothes off, get busy and then later light up a couple of cigarettes in bed.

Such a charged cinematic scene could earn a film an R-rating — because of the smoking.

Films in which actors light up may soon receive the same branding as nipple flashes and cursing: Lawmakers are looking to extinguish, or at least regulate, smoking on the big screen.

Anti-smoking activists want films with smoking in them to be given an R-rating. Most lawmakers have said they'd be satisfied if movie ratings included advisory information about smoking in films like they do for foul language, sexual content and violence.


and this:

OXFORD TWP. -- Parents are outraged that six Oxford Central School teachers who were chaperones on an overnight field trip consumed alcoholic beverages.

The teachers chaperoned a three-day eighth-grade trip to Washington, D.C., and Gettysburg, Pa., during the week of May 17. In a letter sent home with students dated May 27, the teachers admitted to consuming alcohol in the presence of some students.

..."We each had one drink during this time, some in plain sight of students. Some teachers had also had a glass of wine at the dinner theater the night before. At no time were your children left without adult supervision, nor was their safety jeopardized in any way."


prove that America is now, officially, the most hypocritical, candyass place on the goddamned planet.

Get over yer shit, folks. It's just not worth it.

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