Diablevert

Violets in the Hizzzou...

This is only amusing to me and three other people, but...

That's Bono in a purple Glucksman Ireland House/NYU letter jacket.

This only convinces me more that I really need to get on the stick with that T-shirt.*

Well, I've made three people chuckle. Possibly four. That's me done for the day.

Image is copyrighted by The Ireland Funds. Do not aks wherefore I browse.

*The one that says "Fucking Bono!" Becasue really, isn't that what you think every time you see the guy? Possibly to include a picture on the back of him and the U.S. Treasury Secreaty in dashikis. Because really: Fuckin' Bono.

Bog Cotton

There ya go, Bog Cotton. It's Cotton-y.

Cotton-pickin', even.

Or possibly cottonliscious.

You know, cotton goes from "word" to "weird" in a remarkably short time. There ought to be some sort of meter that would chart that, how many repetitions of a given word it takes before you start to go a little cross-eyed and no matter which way you spell it, it doesn't look right. But what would such a meter be called? The nonsensometer? The Nonsensicalibrator? (That sound more like something that, when pointed at the TV, would produces a series of gravelly clicks and tweaks increasing in pitch and speed as you flicked from the Discovery Channel to E to Fox News). And there ought to be a way to involve the nonsensometer in incredibly complicated equations with tildes and omega and deltas that lots of stuff cubed and square-rooted with the end result that would give you a handy ratio of nonsensicality over Tootsie-Pop-centre-approaching-velocity: the Goop Reduction Constant, used to calculate how soon a given activity will turn your brain to mush. At least that's how it would be if I'd designed science. But if I'd designed science, drinking Coke while eating Pop Rocks would make your head explode. (It's these little things that give the world a sense of wonder.)



Anyway, bog cotton. Enjoy.



P.S. You know that I ramble on in this bizarre way because I feel guilty that I haven't posted in a while, yet have nothing particularly interesting to say? Seriously, y'all, I thought about inflicting my thoughts on the Garrison Keillor-Poetry magazine contretemps, as commented on in the New York Times, on you. But that would be cruel. And uninteresting. I'm not sure how interesting all this babbling is, but maybe I'll get an E for effort.

Confidential to Sull...

...this type of thing I would normally IM, but since I don't have that I would like to tip off Sull about this website:

http://www.amandajones.com/portfolio/

Which is full of cute photos of dogs. I think she'll squee.

Whereas I am far more, "Wait, you paid how much ?"

(I was reading the Times online, they had an article about it. $850. For photos. Of a dog. Dude, I say. Dude.)

Sunset New York

Ah, well, that's much better. Now you can see the dot. Off to play with the camera phone settings...

St. Marks

St. Mark Cathedral as seen from ally, Venice

Let's try another and see if the layout looks any better....

New York Sunset

Like everybody and they mom, I got a Flickr account. (http://www.flickr.com/photos/diablevert/) I scanned and uploaded some of the prettier of my vacation snaps to it. Most of them are really old. He's one --- sunset from the roof of my old dorm in New York. The dot's a plane.

----------

Man, the display on this thing is ugly. I'm-a fiddle with it some more.