Visual Assault

As I'm waiting here for a secondary install DVD to finish its process, i wonder what i have in my personal email inbox. I've used yahoo for many years now, and have seen it go through plenty of changes.

It's amazing how much stimilus (how many stimuli?) we as humans can take at any given moment. I roll my mouse ove the inbox icon and a little window expands to show my latest incoming. There are three ads on the page, and text everywhere announcing something about T.O.'s mental health, to low financing you can get on a home loan. I feel frustration at this, not because its too much to handle, but becasue we as a society have become numb to such barrages. It's expected now. I yearn for simpler times.

I want to go back to being 8 years old, and sticking a pencil through loops in the carpet, counting how many times i can spin the thing until the loop pops.

I want to get into a passionate argument about what trajectory a Hot Wheel can take as it leaps from a makeshift ramp created by putting an open paperback face down on the carpet.

I want to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and truly enjoy it.

I want to ask my mom why she is wasting her time on M.A.S.H., when we can be watching the Road Runner.

I want to ride my bicycle by walking it to the top of the hill, kicking my legs out and letting gravity do its thing.

Proud Daddy

I am the recent, and proud father of two rediculous kittens. They've already put more holes in me than there are in the Jon Benet Ramsey case.

Naming them has been a challenge, as i also am the proud husband to an equally rediculous , yet groundingly realistic woman. She wouldn't go for my original plan, of dynamically naming one "Kitty," and the other one, "The Other One." Since i'm destined to always address them both as "Kitty," what better naming scheme is there? Think about it - no matter which one you identified first, it would be "Kitty" and and sitting right next to it would be "The Other One." Makes sense to me.

Maybe I'll have better luck with that idea when we start stocking up on children.

We've calling them by my wife's suggestion, themed around the original Iron Chef Japanese; Chairman Kaga for the ninja, and Kenichi-san for the fat one. It's not truly fat, but its head is perceptively bigger. Like the pop-singer, Pink; she's physically fit like Bruce Lee, but her swollen head gives her the aura of a pie-eating champion.