Horace Walpole
Life is a tragedy for those who feel, and a comedy for those who think.
Reddit is poignant... From the 'I was just thinking that' category
[-]Cacafuego 26 points 4 hours ago
That's funny, a few of us were just talking about gopher servers today (and how Firefox is still a usable gopher client), but then we all got cricks in our backs and decided to take naps.
Quoting myself, as usual.
"God's gift to the wretched and impure heart."
A Beautiful Day
Out of every train window, into every sad face, and every tower.
Arrrrggghhh
This is my third attempt at making Koji-Kin. I know what I screwed up the first two times, but so far it's still not working.
Losing my everloving mind.
Pondering
When the ax entered the forest, the trees said, "The handle is one of us!"
-- Turkish proverb
-- Turkish proverb
From bash.org
There are two theories to arguing with women. Neither one works.
...
meeting, n.:
An assembly of people coming together to decide what person or
department not represented in the room must solve a problem.
An assembly of people coming together to decide what person or
department not represented in the room must solve a problem.
Bacon or Beer Can?
http://www.baconorbeercan.com/index.html
[Edit - 01182010] Damn... It's already dead.
[Edit - 01292010] It's back!!
Quick character sketches
I try to relax. The sinking feeling is again in the pit of my stomach, seeming to throb with weight and pull on my esophagus, the back of my throat. I breathe deeply to calm myself, which briefly raises my heart rate and makes me worry more.
I grasp my water bottle – an old friend at times like these – and bring it to my lips. It jutters there, spilling about as my fine motor control goes to shit. I can hold my hands out straight and stiff as a board, but any delicate act and they suddenly develop a mind of their own.
I yawn once again, compulsively. It feels fake, but good. Gives me something to do.
I feel light headed. It passes.
Jake?
Yes, here.
You’re next.
Thank you.
I’m shown to a nice, if dated, room. Colors are subdued, which is nice because all of my senses seem too much on edge. The lighting is provided by upward facing sconces, as opposed to downward facing fluorescent office-building bulbs. Another nice touch. A miniature water fountain burbles in the corner. I suppose it would make me want to urinate, if I weren’t so anxious. I feel like the sahara. I grab my water bottle and pull again. It is a 64oz, oversize sports bottle. It holds half a gallon. I have drunk 3 since this morning. I am on my fourth and it is nearly empty. This makes me anxious again and my eyes dart, looking for a sink or a drinking fountain. I suppose the little zen fountain will have to do in a pinch. I lean forward, actually considering it, when the psychologist walks through the door.
(Continued after the jump...)