Friday, May 07, 2004
Enough wierd things have happened lately for me to start thinking about doing the close encounters of a third kind thing, building a mountain out of dirt and discarded refrigerator debris.
Everytime I hear the word "Dora" I think of "Adorable Dora" a ship in a Heinlein novel... (note: there's a great heinlein exhibit at ucsc this month)
A lady named "Ping" called me to tell me that I'd been accidentally overpaid on something, and would I please send it back in a couple weeks.
I started thinking about God this afternoon while shaving off my beard... and a pair of nice Jehova's witnesses showed up. They've read uncle bill's helicopter and quoteJohn at me.
I meet people named magestic, slippery and elf. I've had two people now ask me if I was ever a member of a (movement to be linked to later, after I remember how to spell it) (answer: Yes, I do know someone that was heavily involved. Me, no... unless I was given a secret mission that fateful night I moved to florida in 94, and brainwashed into forgetting why I was sent...
I like that theory sometimes, being a secret agent on the outs without a way to break the code the new orders are being sent in is a far more pleasant fantasy than just being a ordinary guy trying to scratch out a living and make room in the memesphere for asteroid colonisation.
I keep thinking some hand is being offered me to play... if only I could decode the signs and portents.
So, let's see, maybe I should go to columbia, rent a helicopter, find the top of a magestic mountain, slide down part of it, hang up a hammock, read John, look for elves, and wait for further instructions.
No... that's not it. Somebody enlighten me please as to what the heck I'm supposed to do next, in plain english in a secure location?.
Or, at least, give me a chance to try out chair hanging sex. ¶ 1:55 PM
Everytime I hear the word "Dora" I think of "Adorable Dora" a ship in a Heinlein novel... (note: there's a great heinlein exhibit at ucsc this month)
A lady named "Ping" called me to tell me that I'd been accidentally overpaid on something, and would I please send it back in a couple weeks.
I started thinking about God this afternoon while shaving off my beard... and a pair of nice Jehova's witnesses showed up. They've read uncle bill's helicopter and quoteJohn at me.
I meet people named magestic, slippery and elf. I've had two people now ask me if I was ever a member of a (movement to be linked to later, after I remember how to spell it) (answer: Yes, I do know someone that was heavily involved. Me, no... unless I was given a secret mission that fateful night I moved to florida in 94, and brainwashed into forgetting why I was sent...
- I seem to remember this wild Cypherpunk party in California and this runty red faced guy with big ears promising me I could run my own ISP if only I would donate a little blood for his pen, as he was out of ink. I think I explained to him the authenticity of pgp signatures while he sat there, tapping his pen, nodding his head. Shortly after that I woke up in Florida, with a terrible hangover...
I like that theory sometimes, being a secret agent on the outs without a way to break the code the new orders are being sent in is a far more pleasant fantasy than just being a ordinary guy trying to scratch out a living and make room in the memesphere for asteroid colonisation.
I keep thinking some hand is being offered me to play... if only I could decode the signs and portents.
So, let's see, maybe I should go to columbia, rent a helicopter, find the top of a magestic mountain, slide down part of it, hang up a hammock, read John, look for elves, and wait for further instructions.
No... that's not it. Somebody enlighten me please as to what the heck I'm supposed to do next, in plain english in a secure location?.
Or, at least, give me a chance to try out chair hanging sex. ¶ 1:55 PM
