Well, lookie here. My blog was under this chair the whole time. Imagine that.

Hey, where have you been? I never went anywhere; the ground under my feet changed. Seismically and without remorse. I’ll have to write about it sometime.

If only they would invent a machine that could transmit your thoughts out to the world instantly. Small enough to hold in one’s hand, perhaps. Or maybe it just sits on a desk.

Meh, let me sketch it out and see what I can have by lunch tomorrow. You can take me out to eat, we’ll talk about it, and you can just write off the whole meal. Then we’ll grab a Starbucks.

Awesome!

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Deathcab for Toddie

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Hello, sir. Welcome to my cab.

Only because the public transportation system is so unreliable and you will miss your appointment.

It is summer in the city. Allow me to continue to leave the windows up for you. No, sir. The heat is not stuck on. I have turned it on.

Please to be relaxed during this ride. I do this all day everyday. I am not afraid for my safety at all.

Perhaps I can put your mind at ease. Should there be an accident, you will not be thrown about the backseat, as there is no room for inertia to throw you.

There is barely an inch for your precious knees!

There is also an exposed bolt for to insert into your knee on impact if necessary. Yes, adjacent to the Complaints sign, yes sir.

Or if you prefer, you may split open your head on the credit card reader directly in front of your face.

There are many choices for you here in my cab, so welcome to my cab, sir.

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Thus Spoke Zara-bike-o-mine-aroun’-here?

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So this is my first time taking the train since getting liberated from my downtown dayjob. I was taking the train for quite a while and it provided much daily enjoyment (so much so that it inspired a friend to suggest the name for this blog).

There is a bike rack there at the suburban station, but it’s more of a ditching post than a hitching post. I think to myself, “Where are these people who arrived on these bikes, but never came back for them?”

Time has passed, but for these misbegotten-n-forgotten companions, time has frozen, trapping them like bugs in amber for we denizens of the future to gaze at, to hypothesize about, and to leave for future generations to forget.

Somewhere Neil Young is muttering, “Rust never sleeps.” But today found me saying, “Hey, come and get your &#$! bike or they’re gonna put another sticker on it!”

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All juiced up

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For entertainment value, little compares to a stroll through a Big Lots store.

But something tells me some poor bastards are thirsty for dunk in the originality tank.

Energy drink + 2 TV shows shot in Hawaii = Lost 5-0.

As far as naming a drink “Crayons”, color me perplexed.

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The drownward spiral

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Picked up a twelver of Amillerca’s Favorite Pastime, the lite version. Always interesting to keep abreast of new trends in technology coming out of the Consumerdrome. But what to think? Does it swirl backwards Down Under? Is this the way lonely drunks can finally get screwed all night?

There is a Questions hotline printed on the box, and I’d like to drunkdial them and ask if it’s meant to reduce backwash or to better propel the suds down your gullet?

Todd is watching, and asking the eternal question, “What is The Vortex?”

And don’t even let me ask how they’ve improved the humble bottlecap. (Update: The bottlecap is really a more worthwhile advancement than the twisted neck.)

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All set in that department. As in I don’t need no “macho”.

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This is all kinds of overboard. Luckily the ladies like me just how I am. Sensitive and nonsportswatching.

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Your house is on my car.

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Everyday I destroy your dwelling, yet every night, you plot to mock me. I concede, as you need to eat, and you’re very talented at what you do.

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