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Electoral Vote Predictor Cartoons and Strips Pictures for Sad Children Goodbye, Foom Freak Angels Making Fiends Get Your War On Order of the Stick HomeStarRunner American Elf The Superest Penny Arcade Doonesbury Diesel Sweeties Scary Go Round Gunnerkrigg Court Alpha Shade xkcd Edwich orneryboy Questionable Content North World A Lesson is Learned Joy of Tech Stuff Sucks VG Cats Ctrl+Alt+Del Dr. McNinja Dresden Codak Sam and Fuzzy Cat and Girl White Ninja Comics Unshelved The Perry Bible Fellowship Archive 2008 July 2008 June 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2007 December 2007 November 2007 October 2007 August December 2000 to Now	.....	Twitter Updates follow me on Twitter Wednesday, October 29, 2003 11:11 PM The day I can never spell right There is an evil god of tires, he doesn't like the front right tire. Never has, never will. Rear left tire thinks its cause Ford loved the right front more. Steering wheel is just happy that he doesn't have all that weight on his back, and the radio isn't talking to me anymore. Well this evil god, we'll call him Flavius Luminus Atrop Tire, he doesn't like those pesky right fronts. Which is why he keeps puncturing mine. Whether in LA, the Grand Canyon or here in beautiful rainy Boston, this evil deity places objects in the right place at the right time to cause as much damage as he possibly can to my front right tire, even if it is a curb. I did an impromptu survey while waiting in the greasy corner of the third or fourth tire shop today and every fake plastic tree agreed with me, that is except the silver Christmas tree an NTB, that Flavius hates the right front or front right tire. Jim thinks that Flavius is all in my imagination, but did think that maybe an evil god would like the donut spare better. The silver x-mas tree thought that perhaps I should drive more carefully. 1:21 AM New Order "I hope you understand, it's part of my action plan, to bury you in the sand." Tuesday, October 28, 2003 12:53 AM late night musings I want to write right now but just can't think of anything that seems even remotely intelligent. A few thoughts in my head, but when I want to bring them out the type fades to white and becomes lost in the background. They aren't magnificent thoughts, tidbits of stories and half forgotten equations of flight. Is this where you want to be? I have deleted more words and characters then I have ever written. Others have been lost, paper misplaced, files on disks that were never labeled, most though sit in unorganized piles on my desk, on my floor, and in my file cabinet. I find myself, right now, wondering if they have ever been found by someone else. If they blew onto someone's front porch, or pasted themselves onto a car window. Used as a piece of scrap to jot down a number or a books Dewey decimal. When I was young I used to think that, one day after I was famous, cause when you are young it is all you think about, being famous, I used to think that every scribble and ink drawing that I had ever done would be studied and scrutinized and treasured. When I was young I wanted to be an artist. I wanted to paint, to sketch, but I never did. Oh a few things were done for art class, but nothing that was my own. Nothing that was incredibly interesting. I never practiced this craft. I have always been lazy. As time went on, as school progressed, I never had the time or space in my schedule for an art class, I didn't even have a lunch for 2 years. I took more and more math and physics classes, art started to fade from my life. Then I went to college. Looking back, it only recently came to me that maybe I should have tried to combine the two talents. Math and sketching, engineering and art. Saturday, October 25, 2003 9:31 PM It came in the mail Thursday, October 23, 2003 10:30 PM I hate Madden My team is attempting to return a kick, because once again my brother has scored another touchdown. He does this with a regularity that depresses me. I think that the score is around 43 to 14, and its only the second quarter. Just 5 minutes a quarter. I can't stop his drives, he just keeps going. Now he, once again, is kicking it off and hopefully I can pull off a few downs, without turning over the ball, and score. That anyway, is the plan. Reality and Madden have other plans. 5 seconds after my player catches the ball he fumbles it straight into Christopher's waiting player's hands, he is now on the 15 yard line and will without a doubt score a touchdown and then get the 2 extra. Now as I can't challenge the play, we are inside 2 minutes, Madden decides to grace me with his "wisdom". "That is all the centers fault. He has to make sure that the ball is dry before he snaps it." This just stops me dead. My brother starts to laugh and it is really contagious. The center. On a kickoff. Idiot computer Madden. 12:09 AM Friends, family and fellow albino elephants. I have been thinking, and playing. Sleeping and working would be more to the point but its sounds better the first way. So I have been thinking then. Thinking about turkey and swiss cheese sandwiches, about the perfect deal in a game of 5 card draw. I might make some changes, but I don't know when. I signed up, once again, for NaNoWriMo which will hopefully run smoother then last year. I plan a few other things with other names and plan to call all them aloud in threes. I have been playing, but just at work when I am being paid for this is America and one should be rewarded when having fun. I need some things. A woman, a suit, a tomb and maybe a gimlet. We'll work on them as we see fit. Tuesday, October 14, 2003 5:59 PM Gramma She made the best meatball. Eating at her house was some of the best experiences with food that I will ever have. She outlived her Husband but made sure that her 4 boys grew to be good men and loving fathers. She outlived one son, and that is something that no parent should have to endure. She had treats for all of her 13 grandchildren and a squeeze on your cheeks before she kissed you hello. I took my drivers test in her car, and later on that car was given to me for my own. Her home was a place that I loved to visit and play in the yard or sit in front of the fireplace on a cold day. She knit wonderful afghans that she gave to everyone and that kept us warm when she wasn't around. She lived a good and long life, may she rest in peace. I'll miss you grandma. Jean Cutillo 1918-2003 Front Page for 14 October to 22 October

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