My muse needs ritalin

Don’t you hate when you have an idea for an entry and can’t find the song lyric you wanted?I have this House of Freaks song going through my head and I wanted to snip a bit of lyric for an entry that was just starting to form in my head, but I can’t find a page with HoF lyrics, anywhere. I need to dig out the fucking CD and of course it’s not HERE, it’s THERE.

Don’t you hate when you have an idea for an entry and can’t find the song lyric you wanted?

I have this House of Freaks song going through my head and I wanted to snip a bit of lyric for an entry that was just starting to form in my head, but I can’t find a page with HoF lyrics, anywhere. I need to dig out the fucking CD and of course it’s not HERE, it’s THERE.

So the entry evaporates as I distract myself with the research.

I do this a lot. I have some idea for some creative something that needs a bit of research, and I get so involved in the research that the fragile spark of creativity wanes. My muse, it seems has ADD and can’t sit still for long when I take my attention off of her.

My muse needs ritalin, methinks.

Bam-a-Lam

This isn’t as great a mashup as some that I’ve linked to lately, but I absolutely love Black Betty so I gotten give it a nod. Whoa Black Betty, Bam-A-Lam!Gotta Make Betty Sweat!

This isn’t as great a mashup as some that I’ve linked to lately, but I absolutely love Black Betty so I gotten give it a nod.

Whoa Black Betty, Bam-A-Lam!

Gotta Make Betty Sweat!

Also thanks to m’man at Mashuptown for pointing a link my way last week. Thanks brutha!

Why can’t I write a fucking blowjob?

You know, I can write a lot of things pretty easily…. I can write about cunnilingus, I can write a tender, loving, gentle scene full of love and caring.

You know, I can write a lot of things pretty easily. A sex scene, a fight, dialog. I can write about cunnilingus, I can write a tender, loving, gentle scene full of love and caring. I can write a violent non-consent scene.

You know, I don’t have much trouble with any of that.

But I can’t seem to write a fucking blowjob. I’ve been working on something for a week now, and I just can’t seen to get past one damned blowjob.

It’s a mystery, I tell ya.

Balls Out

A one minute google exercise didn’t turn up the origin of the phrase ‘balls out’. But we all know what it means; full bore, full throttle, maximum speed, turned to 11..

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A one minute google exercise didn’t turn up a definitive origin of the phrase ‘balls out’. But we all know what it means; full bore, full throttle, maximum speed, turned to 11.

So the origin isn’t particularly important.

What is important is that it’s how I generally do things. The usual quote goes “I have two speeds, all the way on, and all the way off.” I see speed limits as optional, and fundamentally think they’re a bad idea. I don’t like limits. I don’t like rules. I don’t do things a little bit.

I dive deep. I drink hard. I like to push it ’til it breaks, I like to go ’til it hurts.

Again though, that’s not the point. That’s background data. I don’t drive slow. Ever. Today though, I did something I’ve never done before.

I was late for work. We had the big WWDC announcement, and my project was on deck. I wanted to be in the room at work when the announcement played, wanted to hear the reaction of people around me. So even more than usual, I was in a rush to get out.

I took the doors off my jeep this weekend. The top came off a couple weeks back. I like it best with the doors off; I like the hairy-edge, imminent danger feeling. The road rushing by. Air swirling around me.

I’m wearing a kilt today. Camo UK. It’s pretty windy here today in northern california.

Until now, I’ve never done these two things together. Doors off, kilt on.

So I came roaring out of my driveway and blasted up my street to the main road, and I did it my usual way, balls out, knobby tires humming and screeching. Full blast up the street, with a wicked cross-wind.

And the phrase balls out became quite literally true. The kilt blow all the way up, all the way open.

It took a lot of careful tucking to get the kilt under control since of course, I didn’t slow down. Alas, no schoolgirls were flashed, I don’t pass a school on the way to work. But I tell you, it may be a sunny day, but christ on a crutch, my balls were cold when I got to work.

I’ll have to think about an alternate closure system. I don’t mind flashing, but indeed, I prefer to control it.

It’s True

It’s been an interesting couple months since I found out – I’m one of very few people who knew this. Now, the people I work with know and it’s like a shockwave around the campus.

Yeah, it’s true. Those of you watching the news knew it friday. Apple on Intel.

It’s been an interesting couple months since I found out – I’m one of very few people who knew this. Now, the people I work with know and it’s like a shockwave around the campus.

Gonna be interesting…

I Want It Now, Muthafucka

I am now officially in love with Nina Gordon.Nina Gordon, late of Veruca Salt, has recorded a mind-blowing cover of NWA’s Straight Outta Compton, in the style of a Baezesque guitar folksinger.

I am now officially in love with Nina Gordon.

Nina Gordon, late of Veruca Salt, has recorded a mind-blowing cover of NWA’s Straight Outta Compton, in the style of a Baezesque guitar folksinger. It’s funny at first, then it’s beautiful, then it’s both.
–Cory on BoingBoing

Get Nina’s Straight Outta Compton.

Any day now, Any day now now

The super-duper-seekrit project I’ve been working on the last couple months get announced next week. I’m waiting to see if that means my life gets quieter, or if that means we’ve just been in teh forplay phase and are about to get down for some long hard fucking.

Any day now,
Any day, now now

Unplug future plans;
Finger-paint the sun on you,
Shake your bag o’bones,
Shake your bag o’bones,
Mend your missing links,
I think trust should be the glue,
Shake your bag o’bones,
Shake your bag o’bones,

     -XTC, Nearly Africa

A rare work-related entry. I’m sorry, I promise I’ll post something really dirty real soon now.

The super-duper-seekrit project I’ve been working on the last couple months gets announced next week. Then I can finally tell you about it.

I’m waiting to see if that means my life gets quieter, or if that means we’ve just been in the foreplay phase and are about to get down for some long hard fucking.

Wait, I distracted myself with that metaphor.

Anyway it’s that waiting-on-the-edge feeling that gets me. Knowing something’s about to happen and not knowing what. I’m comfortable dealing that feeling to someone else; close you eyes and wait for it. But you blindfold me, I’ll always try to peek.

I do not, as a rule, wait well.

Things at work are tense, and confused. They’re also exciting and dynamic. Things are happening, changing. I like the chaos; I like the change. I thrive on these things. But I have a feeling my job’s going to be very different very soon.

It’s the waiting. It’s the not knowing.