Friday, August 11, 2006

Swimming with the angels.

Biggie passed away peacefully this morning from complications of a turtle attack two weeks prior. He was two years old. He is survived by his tankmate and best friend, Buster, and his owner, Andrew McCash. An extraordinary fish and friend, he will be sorely missed. May he find peace in the aquarium up above.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Convention rejection.

The comic convention was this past Sunday, and for the first time in nine years of attending them, a girl was going to come along with. Unfortunately, like most girls I make plans with, she decided to bail on me. So, same as last year and the year before, the only person who came along was Deanry.

I’d call it a sausage-fest, but two wangs hardly constitute a fest.

I remember back in the day, I could get four or five guys to come along with me. We’d all pile in the van and jam to Jimmy Eat World all the way to Rosemont. All day, we’d raid booths for free stuff, take pictures with models, and make fun of the weirdos in tights and that midget who played R2-D2.

Nowadays all the people I know are always too poor or too cool to go. Deanry’s the only one who’ll ever come with me, but I’m pretty sure it’s only because I always pay for his ticket as a birthday gift. This year he even took off early to go to Lollapalooza. At this rate, I have a feeling I’ll be attending next year’s con all by myself.

There’s nothing sadder than a geek that no one wants to be geeky with. 

Tuesday, August 8, 2006

Under destruction.

My room used to look like this.

Now it looks like this.

My parents are renovating the north side of the house, which means the demolition of my once great room. When it’s finished, I’ll be getting an additional 30 square fee, a walk-in closet, and be rid of that weird diagonoal wall/ceiling thing I’ve been stuck with for the past two decades.

In the meantime, I have to live in my brother’s old room. His room may be bigger than my old one, but it’s quite a tight fit having to cram all of my stuff into a space that was already crammed with a roomful of stuff to begin with.

For me, my room has always been like a good pair of underwear – a secure place to house my private things. Moving into my brother’s room is kind of like switching from briefs to boxers, but having to deal with another set of balls. It may be a roomier space, but not roomy enough for two sets of sacks.

It’s at least a month away until my new, improved room is finished, but I don’t know if I can handle that long. My boys need to breathe.

Tuesday, August 1, 2006

Hot beyond measure.

The temperature topped over 100 degrees today, but I’m not sure how far over. The temperature sign at work only goes up to 2 digits, so it was blinking two dashes instead of an actual temperature. Hit a hundred and the system crashes. I guess it’s kind of like Y2K, except with thermometers.