celebrating new turf at PGE

The artificial aurora rippleblossomed, arcing silently across the twilight sky. Along the entrenchment, I didn't hear much chatter - instead, a rising chorus of metallic clicks and dull thunks echoed in the cold air as weapons were made ready.

Tip gave me a look through the scratched plastic of his visor, I responded with my own smirk - nothing left to say at that point. He turned for me to check his status indicators, which I barely glanced at, wiping a gloved thumb over the red dust caked LEDs. "Green" I tapped his shoulder, and he returned the favour.

On the horizon the headtakers were massing, still spilling wildly from their white-fire-rimmed rezgates. I chambered a round, whispered a prayer.

It's a rare day that Overcompensating or Dinosaur Comics don't make me giggle.

What: Timbers Army 2008 Season Kickoff Party

When: Saturday March 29 @ 9:00 PM

Where: Bitter End Pub, 1981 W. Burnside St.

Cover $6 (so show up early)

Stinky is no more - but her legacy lives on, in the sundries that remain from any office firing: empty cublicle, suddenly lifeless computer, keyboard, mouse et al.

While that had happened, Loud Co-Worker LCW was on vacation.  Previous to this we'd put our bare feet on her desk and took pictures of it, as she hates 'smelly man toe'.  We then sent her the pics a week later and lol'd.

With Stinky gone, we suddenly had a wealth of mischief equipment to put to use.  As LCW is so... vociferous in her dislike of smelly things, we swapped out her chair, keyboard, mouse and other equipment with the items that Stinky had left abandoned.  The keyboard and mouse have a glossy sheen from Stinky's greasy paws.  TCW1 also went over stinky's cubicle CSI-style and snagged some long blonde hairs, which we taped to various parts of LCW's desk.

We're about 4 hours in.  LCW found a hair, and has expressed disappointment that 'you guys didn't do more', which produced barely stifled schoolgirl giggles twixt me an TCW1.

Logan's reaction to daylight savings this morning.

the lovely Stephen Fry!  Sounds like he's doing an anti Louis Theroux (A lovable documentary maker specialising in odd American topics - plastic surgery, legal brothels, evangelicals etc.) documentary on America. (and to my colonial chums, have a quick listen to Mr Fry's podcast for the most warm, honeyed and unctious  English accent imaginable (Stephen was the comedic partner of Hugh Laurie (House) for many years))

Calling his language a 'way with words' is a disservice, he's a wordsmith of the highest caliber:

"Incidentally, forgive a detour here, but if there is one misapprehension about Americans that annoys me more than any other, it is the lofty claim, usually made by the most dim-witted and wit-free Britons, that America is an — ho-ho — “irony free zone”. Let it be established here, this day, that no one, on pain of being designated fifty types of watery twat, ever dare repeat that feeble, ignorant, self-satisfied canard ever ever again. Americans are no more irony illiterate than Britons or anyone else and the repeated assertion (and it is no more than an assertion not a demonstrable provable fact) is no more than a pathetic symbol of a certain kind of Briton’s flabby need to convince themselves of their sophisticated superiority over the average American."

Now I'm in better shape than I have been for years, I thought I'd take a pill break and see if wholesomeish living and all that is really all that one needs to combat depression, rather than sucking at the SSRI-trickling teat of big pharma.

What an amusing mistake!

Texted her indoors on my way home yesterday "waiting for bus.  in bad mood.  warning"

There's no specific crux to my funk: house could be tidier, I could be watching less telly and doing more exciting things outdoors.  Liverpool could be playing more consistently, Timbers season could have started yesterday.  Work could be less niggly and complicated (I've to do a presentation on the 'week of discontent' next Wednesday -  I might just remote desktop in and stick the relevant LJ entries up.) (no not really).
If I can't handle such pathetically mild issues without turning into a grumpy asshole - perhaps medicationville IS where I should be.

*wanders off to call walgreens*

Boss to UCW2, after UCW2 gets off a lecherous sounding phone call:
"Who were you chatting up?"

UCW2:
"my mom"

I take a lot of photos on my sidekick.  Some don't suck.  Some do, but have stories anyway.



Laurelhurst park, a couple of weeks back on my walk home.  Note the flyer on the lamppost - missing woman.  Unbeknownst to all of us in the park that day, she was already sleeping in the still-icy-waters of the duckpond.  Rest well, Heidi.



Duck pond in happier times.