dan: wow dude
dan: i just had a real shameful moment
me: go on
dan: a moment i thought would never come
dan: a crossroads in my pseudo-neo-malthusianism
dan: i went on google
dan: and i got real psyched about the fact that you could customize your theme

extrapolation on returning

3 months and 5 days ago i stopped updating this blog. not because of a conscious choice i made to stop, this site isn't serious enough or widely read enough to even be able to call it "choosing to stop". enough to keep me entertained enough to not even worry about maintaining this site. plus i got twitter which i can use on my phone.

list of the things that i've been occupying myself with, talking about for the past few months

1. the phillies won the world fucking series
2. i voted for the black dude and he won
3. i got a promotion and an office at work
4. RIP david foster wallace
5. rowboat
6. www.youtube.com/mrchicity3

onward and upward

-sf

dusk at cubist castle

this blog is back from the dead

download the rowboat demo
rowboat - science/fiction demo [mediafire]

trains of thought

so i found out yesterday that my little sister keeps a 70 year old picture of my grandfather and great uncle sitting on a stone fence in her journal. i had never met my paternal grandfather, he died when my father was a young boy, and yesterday marked the first time i had ever seen a picture of him

maybe i think too much
i have a lot to think about

we are overdue for a change of seasons, crisp weather this week reminded me of autumn and created an even bigger longing for september, sweet september

god bless this man and his family

never once in my life have i had to deal with the serious injury or illness to someone i've been close too until this week

its a strange feeling

get better soon buddy

god bless america

in other news, my blackberry works again, expect mega-photoblog updates very soon

"the joy of baseball is that the season stretches out over a long period of time, and they play every night. That's what separates the game from other games. Shit's poetic, holmes. Baseball is poetic. It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone."