My feet are wet.

I just spent 6 hours in the cold, trying to get a friend’s diesel volkswagen running. Once we replaced the fuel filter, we got it started and celebrated in a manly fashion.

It came after a day of intense self-loathing. I had been flirting pretty heavily with an old friend, one who had made advances toward me often in the past and suddenly her affection seemed to be waning. Since I am seeing someone right now, it should not have been a blow. But having no clear place at this workshop and feeling old and slow has made me feel barely alive. The car work fixed that for a few glorious moments before I returned unsung and almost unwelcome.

My feet are cold.

Thanks to corworker Nick for an awesome conceptual game to keep me from working. Check it out when you have time and inclination, won’t you?

Auditorium – Index.

McSweeney’s Internet Tendency: A Letter to Prince Regarding the Crying of Doves and the Fiasco That Resulted From the Presentation of a Speech on That Topic..

I suppose I should type something here, but really, just read it. All the way through.