The Colonel T Show

I stole this from another website, but I think it’s worth stealing. It makes me giggle:

The Hour of the Wolf is that time of night when the pressures and stresses of your life come to visit you in the dark. It generally comes around 3-4AM. It’s not quite 3AM here, but I can hear the wolf licking his chops. I’d better get to sleep. But first, some random fatigue-fueled blathering.

We’re going to vote this morning, in about five hours. Bush is going to win the election. I think he’ll end up taking Ohio, and that’ll do it. Tim Russert will confirm this using his white board and disheveled hair. The whiteboard was a sort of folksy, down-home, quaint little gimmick last election, and it certainly fit the tenor of the “holy crap we’ve lost all control” network coverage. My guess is that Tim Russert has been rehearsing with the whiteboard in front of his bathroom mirror, nude. He’s got to make sure he’s memorized what combination of states will result in an electoral tie, and how he’ll fit all the numbers on the board. Undoubtedly this information will make good filler, since the networks have committed to wait until all the polls have closed before announcing each state’s results. So Russert has to be ready. As he rehearses, he inevitably screws up, and punishes himself by drawing dry erase pentagrams on his bare chest. Oh Tim Russert.

I can’t wait for the coverage to begin.

11 minutes.

Someone once said “time is the fire in which we burn.” Who said that? I can’t remember.

9 minutes.

Someone also wrote (said?) that “time is a companion on our journey through life, reminding us to cherish every moment, because it will never come again.” Why can’t I remember who said these things?

8 minutes.

Got an email in my Hotmail today from the NaNoWriMo folks. The “write a 50,000 word novel in November” people. I signed up to do it last year, and got nowhere. Suddenly it’s November again. I’m already one day behind.

5 minutes.

I shaved my beard. Didn’t tell any of you. This was like five days ago. It just didn’t look right. Didn’t feel right. I may try again. I’ve got the sideburns that the neighbor kids love, though. “Mista! Mista! Can I touch the sideburns? Goo!”

3 minutes. I hear the wolf growling. Time for a quick spell check and publish.

Wow! “Russert” isn’t in the dictionary. Bollocks.

Zero Hour.

I’m late.

Good wolf. Nice wolf. Have a Lean Pocket.

All in all, today (yesterday, now) was a good day.

I helped Elizabeth with one of her school projects, which is an all too rare event. Granted, I merely resized some scanned pictures and printed some captions, but at least it was something. I just looked at the finished product (one of those design boards mounted with fabric and finishes, like the famous designers make on the teevee) and I was absolutely blown away. I have zero talent when it comes to drawing, color, and design — I described one particular fabric as “the one that looks like where Q*Bert takes place.” She has mad skills, my ladyfriend does.

She took time out to watch the end of Game Seven with me. We don’t watch a lot of sports together, but we do share a hatred of the Yankees. We also enjoy pointing out the many Red Sox grooming issues. Johnny Damon’s alone could fill a spiral notebook. More props to Elizabeth for this gem: “The only reason Manny Ramirez is still standing out there is because they told him he’d get a treat when the game’s over.”

She has Saturday off, and we will go see “Team America” even if I have to use chloroform and throw her in the back seat. It’s naked puppets for heaven’s sake.

Other good news: my “mentor” at the unnamed place where I work decided to come back on a part-time, contractual basis. “Mentor” is really the wrong word…it would be more appropriate to call him “the guy who let me pester him with endless stupid questions during my first 18 months of employment.” Regardless, I would not be doing what I’m doing now without his guidance, motivation, and patience. It’ll be good to have him back, even if we are two states apart and working on totally different projects.

Tomorrow (now today) marks the one week anniversary of my not shaving. That’s right! It’s been seven days since I last scraped hair off my chinny-chin-chins. I’m having a team over this weekend to evaluate the progress, and to determine whether I should continue growing it out or abandon the attempt. I’d like to have a beard for the winter. Frankly, I think we’d all like that.

Finally, we’ll have to wait at least another week to see what Leo’s doing alone in the woods, wearing a sport coat, leaning against a tree, making the most god-awful wailing noise you’ve ever heard. Jed made him stay in the White House all night. And did you check out the guns on Will Bailey? Dang.

P.S. – I’m back on the Kerry train again. Something about not seeing or hearing him speak for 48 hours has made him much more palatable. Temporarily, at least. I’ll keep you posted.

And so it begins again, for the first time, once more.

Colonel T.com (known in some circles as “America’s Website”) disappeared from the Internet approximately 15 months ago. The media coverage, as you’ll recall, was constant and relentless, overshadowed only by the B’Affleck/Selena breakup and the return of John Larroquette to prime time network television.

Were the pressures of helming the website that forever changed the course of the Internet too much for me? No, actually I handled the stress quite well. In reality, I got bored. Lazy, even. But now, as the winter months approach, I find myself growing wistful….sentimental, even, for those days when I drove the biggest rig on the Information Superhighway.

So I’m going to start out easy, partnered with the good people at Blogger who will handle all the technical stuff. All I have to do is write, and click a shiny orange “Publish” button. Simple, really.

For those of you I’ve been out of touch with, I offer a life update:

1. Politics: With 14 days remaining until the presidential election, I’m back to officially being undecided. Make no bones about it, I am firmly, staunchly, unwaveringly, undecided. My original plan, to go with whichever guy likes stem-cell research more, has been undermined by the fact that John Kerry (who for the new people is the guy who likes stem-cell research more) managed to make me wildly wary of him over the course of three debates. I’ll keep you updated, but the Shatner write-in vote is looking better and better. Besides, I’m in Illinois, and we were for Kerry even before he won the nomination.

2. Marriage: My ladyfriend, the lovely Elizabeth, and I will be celebrating our seventh wedding anniversary next month. Seven years! According to this I’m supposed to give her wool/copper. No idea if that slash is supposed to be an “and” or an “or”. As such, come November 29th Elizabeth will be receiving a sheep hopped up on Centrum tablets.
3. Geography: We are still living in Geneva, Illinois, which is way, way, west of Chicago. We are, in fact, the last stop on the East-West Metra. We welcome all visitors.
4. Narcissism: I’m officially done (DONE) with Great Clips. Never again will I spend 12 dollars so l’il Britanny can work out her teen angst on my locks. I’m going to a salon next time, and getting the whole unruly mop reworked. However, I will ask the salon attendant to please welcome me with a detached and monotone “Hi, welcome to Great Clips” because I’m sentimental, blast it.
5. Technology: Someone somewhere loves me dearly. My new laptop is a sexy beast, and I’ve got the good people at the place I work to thank for it. Thank you, people at the place I work!

So. That catches you up, and gives some idea of where we’re going. I hope you’ll join me on this new adventure.

Oh! Notice that there’s a “Comments” thingie at the bottom of each post. Please try it out, and tell me how you think this new gig is going. Big love to y’all.