I have nothing of substance to write… though that is not the point of a blog, I am suddenly reminded. To that end:
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This weekend I hosted a BBQ in which my new to me grill was fired up for the first time. There is something awesome about having a gas grill. The whole BBQ process becomes much less about the actual setting up and lighting of anything, and much more about the hanging out (where “hanging out” refers to yelling at each other while playing Halo 2… and yes, there was at least one girl there).

I also got a new to me table saw this weekend, which will greatly facilitate the building of my own furniture. I built a self-admittedly awesome bed two weeks ago out of the necessity of the bed I was sleeping in leaving with the person who owned it, and I will be making a dresser for similar reasons. This isn’t actually true, as I’ve not had or needed a dresser somehow for years, but one must have their hobbies. Plus, I’ve been informed that making your own furniture is apparently a sexy thing for a guy to do. I highly suspect that this is largely dependent on the results, so the college-level planks on cinder blocks I had been planning are probably not going to cut it as far as design.

Truthfully, being a product designer, I have always had a nebulous dream of going into business designing furniture and selling the designs to high-end manufacturers. I have dozens of ideas sketched in various places, and I have only recently started implementing them in any way other than ephemeral thoughts. If you, The Reader, happen to be the CEO of Herman Miller, do let me know…

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Effective March 15, we will no longer carry pillows on flights within the 48 contiguous states or flights between the U.S. and Canada, Mexico, Central America or the Caribbean.

My Silver Medallion status just got a lot more valuable to me. The e-mail went on to say:

Those passengers requiring oxygen will have the option to purchase small quantities while in flight. Oxygen services, however, will not be offered at the gate, or by some of our code-share partners. Please see your travel agent for further details between the minutes of 3:17PM and 3:23PM.
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It’s all part of the Southwestation of the airline industry.

.: Russel Crowe targeted by al Qaeda as part of a cultural destabilization plot. Just for the record, if Master and Commander had never been made my stomach would actually have been more stable.

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Keep on truckin'This picture is a metaphor for Life.
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Even if you’re smiling on the outside, the pain you feel within will always shine right through.
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Or it could just be a picture of a clown crossing the 26th mile of the L.A. Marathon. You tell me.
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The funny thing about cheering on your friend at the marathon, is hearing the armchair quarterbacking of the crowd around you:

“It’s not really finishing that’s hard, it’s racing. Anyone could finish a Marathon.”
>”Oooh, I wouldn’t run like that if I were that guy. I learned better doing that 10k last weekend.”

>And the like.

You do feel strangely motivated watching an event like that, though… Usually in the “From now on, I will run 3 miles a night” variety, to which I fell victim to as well. I thought, to myself that I should be able to get myself in shape for at least one marathon in my life. After all, what could be easier?

Then I remembered how much I absolutely abhor running in distances longer than a basketball court. Details, details.

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Motorola PEBL V6

DroooolMy old phone, though a classic, is definitely in need of a replacement.

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No man, Dave’s not here

I’ve been pretty busy with Real Life which, as it turns out, is much more harsh and crushing than Online Life. I don’t want to talk about it.

>In 1974 I was born in St. Louis, Missouri, a town I have never been to before or since. I bet you didn’t know that. But now you do. I realize using the phrase “before or since” doesn’t really make that much sense, as there was no before in my reality that preluded my birth. “Before or since” sounds better than just the “since”, though. It sounds more confident yet mysterious. I should know, I tried them both before writing this sentence.

Does any of this make me a Mid-Western boy? It does not.

I have vowed to see the Gateway to the West before I die, just as I have vowed to see a certain grave of certain familial significance within the same time period. The problem is motivation. I don’t really have any compelling reason to make this visit other than to check it off my list; and, baby, my list is long and filled with things of actual pressing priority. That arch I’ve heard so much about will always be there, just as the grave, and I’ll get to it some day.

I’ve already, at a mere 30, begun to realize that “someday” is really no day at all. From all casual accounts, St. Louis is a murderous ghetto that is best seen from a speeding jet, or maybe space. And then there’s (apparently) East St. Louis, the visiting of which is roughly akin to suicide.

Which may be why I seem to be rserving it for The End.

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Amero-centric
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While listening to KCRW just now, the host launched into a story about how the president of Togo, Faure Gnassingbe, was stepping down. I, in my ignorant Americanism thought to myself, “The President of Togo’s is stepping down? I wonder if the president of Subway is celebrating?”
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I hate myself.

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Sometimes (all of the time) Life throws you a curveball; even if in retrospect you should have seen it coming… even if everyone in the stands saw it long ago.

>.: This Canadian couples' last photos of The Tsunami before it killed them, are some of the most chilling I've ever seen. Not because they are in any way graphic, but because of what they represent.
>.: This headline:
Los Angeles Seeks to be Declared Disaster Area is true on so many levels

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I was all set to write a post asking why the hell someone would use the search box on my site to find information on St. Quadragesimus; until I realized that I was actually No. 5 on Google’s search list after mentioning it here almost a year ago.
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The depth and breadth of my inane posting amazes even me.
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Dave Eggers interviewed by The Onion (via kottke)
Tiger shot and killed in L.A.

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Big Brother says, Watch the RoadBig Brother sends another message
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You may remember my post from a while back, in which I expressed disdain for this sign hanging over Venice Blvd. For the last 6 months, I’ve been waiting for it’s message to change to something relevant, like, 10 East Blocked at La Brea or Amber Alert: White Honda Civic Lic Plt: E733t; and, for the last 6 months, I’ve been disappointed. “They really put this stupid sign up to tell us to watch the road,” I’ve been thinking to myself.

But then, over the last couple of weeks, there’s been a change. The sign has been off, either given up on or, as I know now, apparently being reprogrammed for it’s new, better use. Now, you see, the sign proudly says something that we all actually need to know. It’s message, in all its glory now reads:

LIFE IS IMPORTANT
DRIVE RESPONSIBLY

sigh…

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Did I say it was sunny? I meant it was raining record amounts constantly and consistently. My stupid fat fingers and their never-ending typos.
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I’m sure in INSERT TOWN NAME, where you live, there is the familiar adage that whenever it starts raining everyone forgets how to drive. I’m sure also in INSERT TOWN NAME there is the fairly prevalent feeling that Those People in LA are all wannabe actors that complain too much about the weather; and, if they knew what real weather was all about they’d really have something to cry about.
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This, generally, is true.

This week, however, we have the kind of real weather that would make Texas, Kansas, and perhaps even Florida, look at California with some measure of respect. We’ve had the hail, the tornadoes, the power outages, the flooding, the landslides, and the sinkholes. We’ve had more than one person killed by rivers of mud and the honest to god Falling Rocks that the mountain passes have signs warning us about. We’ve lost a few to drowning. We’ll certainly lose a few more. It is not a fun time in Tinsel Town.
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It is, in fact, rather tragic.
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I had intended to post links to LA Times articles illustrating my point, but power outages in Los Anglese have rendered The Times unable to update their site. Nature, she be a cruel mistress indeed.
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Legendary gonzo journalist, Hunter S. Thompson kills himself
Taiwan hates it when Mommy and Daddy fight

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