make the music with your mouth, biz
That headline's probably going to stretch the sidebar. Oh well.
I found some time to write, so congratulations to you, the reader, who gets to experience my pithy greatness.
I've been tweaking the template for the past two days, subtly and not-so-subtly. A couple of links have changed (damn you Live Audio Wrestling), and I took out a few things that were slowing load times down past where they should be. I should be making this template XHTML compliant, but I'm really lazy and hate needling through source to simply make things "official" when they work correctly anyway. My motto has always been "if it ain't broke, don't fix it, even if ISO9000 says you have to."
I drove up to Wal-Mart today to get the oil changed and the tires rotated on the Honda. Anyone want to guess how long it took? Two hours and forty-five minutes. I had to spend two hours and forty-five minutes in close quarters with the populace of Barrow County, and if you know Barrow County, you're already sympathizing.
(As an aside, I saw possibly the coolest hairstyle ever today. A black guy, wearing a white dress shirt, black tie, and black dress pants, with a six inch mohawk. And, as a plus, he looked exactly like Teddy Long, but a little darker and twenty-five years younger.)
Anyways, while I was there I saw Sam King, Patrick O'Neal, and Bryan O'Neal. Not together. Well, the O'Neals were together, but they weren't with Sam. You know what I'm saying.
Since I had so much time to kill (murder, maim, injure at the very least), I shopped for groceries, and despite not spending more than four dollars on any one item, and not more than two on most of it, ended up with over a hundred dollars worth of food. Shows what three hours in a Wal-Mart will do to your food budget.
I just realized that Bryan O'Neal looks eerily like Bryan Fury from Tekken. Strange.
I've been doing more and more on the guitar, partially to get better, and partially to keep my mind off of upcoming stressful events. So far, it's working, as I've got my calluses back. Makes typing a little slower, but I'll survive. What's weird is, out of my six stringed instruments, I'm going back to the first guitar of my dad's, a Sears Silvertone from the late Sixties.
Well, that's enough for now. I'm going to go find some old Mad Magazine scans and appreciate real humor.