Eavesdropping on those zany conversations.

"Anyway, the fence guys left these little chunks of Sakrete all over the yard. Damn near ruined the mower blade. Took me an hour to clean it all up."
"What's 'Sakrete'?"
"It's this sugar-free concrete they came out with in the early 70s. Turned out it caused vaginal warts, though -- even on men -- so they had to take it off the market."
"Nice. Hey, park right there."
"No, let's drive around another half hour to find a space ten steps closer to the entrance."
"Yeah, I agree. I get enough exercise already. I was out doing yard work yesterday, too."
"Wow, you must be exhausted. A whole hour sitting on a riding lawn mower."
"Hey, eat me; I was also doing twelve-ounce curls."
"My sincerest apologies. I've misjudged you."
"OK. I'll accept your apology in lieu of eating me.
"Good. I'm not much of a cannibal."

Random thoughts

(10/20/2004 11:00am)
I decided against posting further cleaning updates and highlights; it was just too sad.

Instead, I'm going to use this post as a notepad for my thoughts during the day. It's a kind of experiment, see. Here goes . . .

(11:03am)
I need to see another political ad like I need another crack in my ass.

(5:52pm)
Wow, I actually found work to do (translation: reading someone else's posts between mind-numbing sessions of code-diffing (you don't need or want to know what that is)). I'm going home now. I'll see if I'm able to continue this from there.

(5:57pm)
Oh, one thing before I leave: I don't own a "ride" or a "crib;" nor do I wear "bling"; I don't have "peeps", I never "keep it real"; and I don't ever want you to "peace out."

(Next day, 7:13am)
As you can see, I wasn't able to continue this from home. Let's try it again at work.

(1:37pm)
Twenty-three minutes until the meeting . . . nothing useful can be accomplished in that time, so . . . hm, the fabric covering this cube panel would be perfect for a meditation room; that is, it encourages the eradication of all conceptual thought. Excellent for the workplace! I can tell you from experience that the last thing a computer programmer needs is conceptual thought.

(10/21/2004 02:52pm)
Just start typing. Write something, anything to get the brain going, the pulses flowing, the fungus growing. "Kanga-back, jute-back, and monkey-back!" Guy's name was ... Dave something? No, it was Mike something.

jute
n.

1. Either of two Asian plants (Corchorus capsularis or C. olitorius) yielding a fiber used for sacking and cordage.
2. The fiber obtained from these plants.

Is this like hemp? In that case, they left out "doobage".

(10/22/2004 02:07pm)
I may just have to wrap this up and call it a post. Jeez, is any of it worth reading? Who cares, it's a diary. To my knowledge, only one person has ever read it (other than me). I'll give myself until the end of today to finish this with something "totally boss".

(4:02pm)
Forget it. I'm working on a separate post now. This one is done. Bye.

This is a sample of the results of last weekend's cleaning. "That's clean?" you say? You haven't seen the "before" pictures. And you never will, because I didn't take any. So there.

But these will be the pictures for this weekend's cleaning, so you have something to live for.

You're welcome.

Good lord . . . my first post in almost 2 months and I decide that my cleaning adventures are interesting?? Has it really come to this? Apparently so.

I'd be more of a hoot if I was sleep-deprived and delirious. Sorry, this is all I've got right now. I promise it will get better.