t-give goals 2k9

Because it's still good to have goals, even goals like these:

bake bread rolls
watch eps 1, 3, 9 and 10 of BOB
do not arrive late to epic copley family t-give day hike
finish a burnt-out case
make spoon bread
make something pumpkin
sleep 9+ hours each night
put bread sauce on everything
beat each 0f my family members in 1-on-1 cribbage
write two letters
drag something down from the attic

Realistically: Last chunk of time spent at home for two years. <3 t-give 2k9.

my boy's wicked smaht

ben in all his glory

Today is a big day for me. Day One of Year Three on the outside.

If you're reading this, there's a good chance that I'm grateful for you, that I love you, even though I probably wouldn't say it to your face more than once a year, and I'd have to be a little drunk.

I'll try to be less cynical this year. I have no real reason to be cynical anymore with mates like you around.

Here's to the terrible twos! I will raise a little hell and I won't forget how good I have it.

things one might write after spending six hours thinking about harm reduction

Regarding Pulp Fiction and its possible influence on the decisions of someone administering Narcan, Pauli says:

Don't stab anyone in the heart ever with fucking anything.

Wise words kids! Thank you Pauli.

Will I ever be in a situation where I'm lying on the street, unconscious, with someone screaming in my ear "I'm taking all your dope", and will I be unresponsive, and will they see that I'm breathing fewer than nine times per minute, and will they give me a couple of rescue breaths and then shoot me in the northwest quadrant of my ass with Narcan? And if I never get to that point, is that because I was born to Pat and Kev, or because I've never been offered a drug, or because I went to college, or because my train came late one time, or because Ross asked me to remember the number 9?

Is it any weirder to imagine, given life eight years ago, that I am right now sitting in this bay window looking at this street corner, with a rumpled bed and Thao playing on these speakers, making the acquaintance of multiple people named Morgan, with varying degrees of success?

Bring your hips to me, oh bring your hips to me, oh oh. To me!

this is why the people hate the blogs

This song is undefeated in making me cry! Well done, NMH. Something to be said for consistency, I guess.

remember remember

Time for my now-annual Guy Fawkes posting. I love this holiday for nothing more than its general what-the-fuckery.

Remember, remember the fifth of November
The gunpowder treason and plot.
I know of no reason
Why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.

Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent
To blow up the King and the parliament.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow.

By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys holloa boys let the bells ring
Holloa boys holloa boys God save the King!

And what should we do with him? Burn him!

(...what?)