Just Another Monday

I’m listening to Tales From the Punchbowl by Primus now. Considering my post yesterday about The Trim, it seemed only fitting to listen to an album that has the song “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver” on it.

My morning went by fairly quickly, which is odd for a Monday. Most of it was taken up reimaging a user’s computer. It seems that her whoopie Laberwriter printer does not play well with the Laserjet 4 drivers in some respect or another. Before I did that, however, I went outside for a choke when I ran into Laura. This in itself is not unusual but her Factoid of the Day was. I found a spot near the ashtray where no one else stood and started to get lost in thoughts of how much I didn’t want to reimage the PC when she poked her head around the corner and asked, “Did you know that, when you get old, your pubic hair straightens out and falls off?” Now, while I endeavor to have as much interaction with womyn’s pubic hair as possible, I do limit myself to that of younger frauleins. Laura returned to conversing with the other womyn there and, as I left to go back inside, I overheard her beginning to relate a tale of when she worked at a nursing home. Probably best that I took off at that point. I also spent a fair amount of time this morning removing spyware from another user’s PC. This computer belonged to an economist upstairs. It was quite a pleasant change of pace to speak with someone who has a Ph.D. in economics about the subject instead of the usual small talk about work and bitching about spouses and/or the Packers. Of course, I know only enough about economic to realize how little I know about it. The guy’s thesis paper was on some aspect of the economics of health care. He summarized the idea of universal health care in this country roughly as follows: we could do it but it would be severely rationed. Bad hip? Deal with it for 8 months before it’s replaced. Want to rid yourself of those varicose veins? Get in line. I chatted him up and gave him a couple of my business cards for those times when his or his friends' home PCs take a digger. Hopefully I can get a well-heeled economist to help illustrate the concept of supply & demand via a business transaction.

Wynona loved her big brown beaver
and she stroked him all the time
She pricked her finger one day and it
occurred to her she might have a porcupine

I found out today that with a bit of luck and my nimbleness at hitting the Reply button, I’m next in line for a Jethro Tull vine. Since I’ve been listening to Roots to Branches quite a bit lately, I’ve also wanted to hear some of those songs live. I do have a ’95 show but it’s an audience recording. A very good one, but still an audience recording. Granted, I do have some audience shows that rival, in certain ways, at least, professionally recorded shows by that artist in that area. The Genesis show from 1976 in Berkeley, CA stands out in this regard. Anyway, the vine is for Santiago, Chile, March 6th, 1996 and looks to be a soundboard. Then I sent out a feeler to find someone who’d be willing to trade for A Curious Riff - a Tull boot from Stockholm, Sweden, October 3rd, 1995. It too appears to be a soundboard recording but this is a 2CD affair so I get the whole gig. The show from Chile doesn’t include “Valley” and I just had to have it. I got several replies and took the offer from a guy in New York. But I think I may be able to pull off a trade with some of the other respondents.

My current audio drama, The Sandman, is a bit odd and after having heard only the first episode, I’m intrigued and confused. The Doctor and Evelyn return to The Clutch where The Doctor is “a bad memory”, in his words. In fact, he’s known to the Galyari as The Sandman, a figure that ravaged their planet and their race. There has been a harrowing flashback in which he threatens the Galyari and even leads an army against them. The Sixth Doctor was a bit darker on television but here’s he gone a shade or four towards pitch black. It will be interesting to see how this plays out.

I got to chat with TFO out in the parking lot for a minute earlier. She took off early to see Herr Doktor as her anti-biotics did too good a job and, as a result, her intestines suffer. She is so cute and I like the way her ass wiggles, wiggles when she walks.

"Big bottled Fraulein, put your weight on me,''
said the pig-me to the whore,
desperate for more in his assault upon the mountain.

I overheard a bit of a humorous conversation at the coffeehouse this afternoon. I sat near two well-groomed frauleins in their early or mid-20s. I was reading so I only caught bits and pieces of their banter. One womyn admitted to having no friends. She then later said something like, “Guys can tell if a womyn is psycho immediately.” I chuckled to myself thinking, “Maybe you have no friends because you’re psycho.”

Well, it’s nearly time to go home. Methinks I’ll bake kolacky tonight. Hopefully Stevie or Becca got my phone message to pull the cream cheese from the refrigerator.