A Whole Bunch of Randomness
Just for the record, Compound W is the most amazing wart removal concoction ever developed, er, short of liquid nitrogen I mean. The once massive wart adorning my thumb has been sizzled away to a mere bump of its former self. Granted, a large portion of surrounding skin has also been cooked down into a dermal crater, but that's to be expected. The removal of the wart is of paramount importance, and I think three more days of aggresive treatment will teach that sucker who is da' man! For those of you who are slow on the uptake, I should point out that I, Ryan Rhodes, am the man referred to in the preceeding sentence. Ah, to be wart free. It won't be long now, my pretties.
The girl and I carved pumpkins last night, an activity I haven't engaged in since I was 13 or 14. I'd forgotten how much I disliked the smell and texture of pumpkin guts. They're so slimy and slippery and, just plain "yech." We were up until 2 a.m. carving our gourds, and it was actually quite fun.
A note to Plain Layne. Layne, I went and purchased Alien vs. Predator 2, primarily due to your testosterone-inducing critique. I have to say, I've never had so much trouble trying to learn how to play a freaking video game. My short-lived career as a fledgling face hugger ended ungloriously in the rotating blades of an air-duct fan. Walking on walls and ceilings is among the most disorienting things I can imagine. I hope I'm never reincarnated as a spider. My career as a marine didn't fare much better. I flinched and fired my damn weapon every time I thought I sort of kind of heard a noise. And then something killed me from behind. All those hours of boot camp to be torn apart on a faraway world. What a shame. I haven't tried the predator yet. I figure, if I can't even get a face hugger to hug a face, what chance will I have controlling a predator? I also have to get a new computer. My 450 Mhz processor just can't cut it any more. It's great for Red Alert 2, but AvP is so jerky it reminds me of my first and only attempt at driving a manual transmission automobile.
How come you can sit in your office all day in perfect solitude, but as soon as you let your guard down and let fly with a little flatulence, someone comes in to ask you a question? Every time. Without fail. It's enough to make a man never want to fart again. Okay, even I don't believe that one.
Posted by Ryan at October 16, 2002 01:53 PM
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