Words I Nominate for Re-consideration: Prosaic

Why does the word prosaic have to mean "unimaginative" or even just "matter-of-fact"? It doesn't sound like it should mean that at all. It sounds flowery, maybe because in saying it you hint at the word "rose", and it ends in "-aic" which always makes me think of something Greek, curlicued, with a lot of parts to look at.

It sounds like it could be complimentary and insulting at the same time. This property is actually outside of the meaning of the word, as in my mind it should actually mean "overwrought, gaudy, or ostentatious". Like a baby blue moped covered in orange fleur de lis, or a gold bar which has been silver plated and covered with diamonds which spell out "GOLD BAR INSIDE".

I suggest everyone start using prosaic the way it was meant to be. Do it enough, especially around people who don't know the meaning anyway, and in time my meaning will become the meaning. Ahh yeah. I'm waiting.

Lever 6,000,000

So I was flipping through an old Flash Gordon comic book we have sitting around here, checking out the artwork and all, when I noticed the page of ads on the inside cover:



No biggie, right, just a bunch of ads for X-Ray specs, joy buzzers, and various other cheap tricks. But then I noticed this one, right at the bottom down by the order form:



Really? Hitler Soap? Seems a bit crass, and more than a little difficult to implement as a practical joke. It apparently relies heavily upon the assumption that you have a blonde friend with a Hitler moustache already in place. And if you have a friend like that, they'd probably welcome the soap.

But hey, who am I to doubt the marketing folks over at Honor House?

Splinter Cells

To begin with, I'm in the process of hanging a hammock. Never mind that "hanging a hammock" would be a sweet expression for taking a crap, it's serious business. So serious, in fact, that I got a splinter today.

I was hauling up these two 10' posts, sans work gloves because I'm that hardcore/lazy, when I got a nasty splinter in my pinky. It went in across the face of the finger, and exited about a quarter of an inch away from the entrance. Oh it hurt.

But, being the total man that I am, I pulled it straight on out, leaving behind only a sliver of wood which hurt like hell. Not only that, since it broke off inside my pinky, there was no easy way to get it out.

I kind of felt like Rambo in Rambo III where he has that bullet wound in his side and has to light it up with gunpowder to kill the infection. Except my wound was in my finger. Otherwise, basically the same.

So with an old sewing needle and a pair of nail clippers I went to work slowly clipping away tiny bits of skin where the splinter went in until I could push a tiny bit of the wood out. After about ten minutes I was able to extract it. Big whoop, happens all the time right? Wrong!

Well, I mean, yes right that people get splinters all the time, but not right what I ended up discovering later on this evening. You see, I now only have one wound in my pinky; the entrance wound. Where did the exit wound go? I'm looking, I don't see it, I don't feel it.

I was there, I saw the wood sticking out clear as day when it happened. But now it's as if nothing happened but the one little piercing. I'd like to think this was an indication that I have a power. A secret, fickle power. I don't see how magically healing exit wounds could possibly get me out of a jam, unless maybe I was pinned to a wall by a spear, but it's something.

Oh, it's something.

Time in a bottle

I have roughly four weeks left of full pay before I have to start going on the ol' unemployment, which is weird because the time seems to be going by quickly and yet slowly at the same time. I only lost my job about five weeks ago, yet when I read through earlier entries from around that time it seems like ages.

I wonder if I'll look back on the time I'm unemployed and wish I had done more. The last time I was out of work for any length of time it was for six months, and I don't recall getting a whole lot done. I mean, we were very industrious in doing things to make money; hitting thrift stores for stuff to sell on eBay, which worked out pretty well for a time.

We played a lot of The Sims and hung out and made some art and all, but the whole time in my mind is a bit of a blur. This time, I'd like to have something to show for all this time I have. I guess I do, I mean, I did a freelance website (clubwestmedspa.com), my cheapy portfolio site (portfolio.artsick.com), I'm drawing lots of comics (aintthisthelife.artsick.com), and I'm getting quite good at darts.

But I want something big. I don't know, maybe I'm selling myself short, but I know I could be doing more. Man, I tell ya, I need to get serious about this whoring myself thing.

Not actual whoring, of course, but selling myself as a business entity to other people. Though, if it comes down to it, actual whoring may enter the picture. Do it while you're young, they always say!

Unstuck from the mouth of my roof

So we had a windstorm the other night and it whipped a piece of siding nearly off the house. Right now it's hanging by a single nail right over the back door. To be fair I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, it had been kinda loose since the last windstorm we had. I was just hoping there would never be another windstorm. Ever.

It seems that my hopes sown in stupidity have now borne the fruit of forgone conclusion. So I can't really complain too much.

Anyways, I went down to the Home Depot today and got all the tools I needed to fix the thing, except for some kind of hover device which would offset the somewhat steep pitch of my roof. From the outside it doesn't look so bad I guess, but I think it's actually around 60° or something.

I don't have a ladder but I do have roof access through my upstairs window, so I gave it the ol' college try and nearly slipped to my death on the first attempt. Then I changed from my loafers into my tennis shoes and gave it another go. Fared slightly better, I got halfway out the window, but there was no getting past the fact that my shoes and high center of gravity just were not going to cut it.

So Rowan suggested I ask her brother, who's a handy dude, if he'd be able to help. I felt kind of weird though being like, "Oh hey I almost died trying this, but you wanna give it a shot?" But I imagine he has more experience than me, or at least better shoes.

Luckily there's not any rain in the forecast for a while, so I can be content with the further trashiness happening at the back of my house. Ahhh, feels good.

Darts, among other distractions

If I was really rich I'd be one of those people with the awesome stereo system that only plays FM radio. I realized this today while perusing a site about darts equipment. We got a dart board a few weeks ago and today, while practicing my triple 20s, I thought to myself, "My trouble is I don't have the best darts."

You see, my darts have a tendency to wobble in the air. In my head I'm sure it's something to do with my release or the fact that I'm not very good, but in my heart I know it's because those cheap plastic shafts, lame aluminum barrels, and shoddy lead points are nothing compared to the tungsten-powered hand missiles of glory I saw on the darts website.

Those things were awesome, and I mean that in the truest sense of the word. They didn't even look like my darts. They were all shiny and colorful, in a manly way, and I just knew if I had those darts I wouldn't have to practice anymore. I could just let them fly to their target on the power of thought.

You see that thing to the left? WTF? And you know what it's called? "SAVAGE". Come on, that's intense for a fucking dart. As soon as I get a job, oh man, you better believe it.

Anyways, that's what I was up to today.

I'm restless, but not without rest

Well January officially sucked in a lot of ways. Lost my job, power went out, furnace froze up, and I got a brick through my car window. I can only hope this is a month-to-month level of suck and not an indicator for the year as a whole.

Ah February, when the honeymoon of a job-free day begins to wear off and you start to run around like a mouse in a humane trap. Oh did I mention I caught a mouse in a humane trap? He kept coming into the conure room through a little gap by the heat vent to grab bits of food they had dropped/thrown onto the floor.

Finally got him by putting a trap right under the gap and I guess he just fell right into it. Drove him out to a field and let him run free. Though now we have another one (or the same one found his way back) in our bedroom, so he must be dealt with as well.

Well, at least it gives me something to do during the day. Not that I have nothing to do, there are tons of things to do around the house. Cleaning, laundry, dishes, tiling, all that exciting stuff. Yet at the end of the day, which is usually around 8 or 9pm, I still feel like I should be doing something. Which is why I'm doing this.

Don't feel like drawing or coding. I'd like to work on my 3D board game, but I need some plans for that, which I might work on tonight. Oh and we got a dart board, so that's been put to use as well. Man, this is pretty engaging.

If you're still reading this, I'm sorry, my fingers are kind of just typing everything that's running through my head at the moment. I need a shave. I like the jeans I'm wearing, glad I did laundry today. I taught myself to play the intro to "Down on the Corner" by CCR last night, so I'm pretty proud of that.

Also, it's really hard to play Hall & Oates songs recognizably on the guitar. I could only get "Your Kiss is on My List" to sound close. Hey, do you ever sniffle and it sounds just like the opening to "Insane in the Membrane", and then you try to replicate it and it just sounds like a sniffle again?

Wait a second...I just listened to both "Insane in the Membrane" and "Jump Around"...they both use that same sound, one's just higher than the other.