- just tore-ass down Memory Lane in a souped-up Fuckyoumobile #
- Was standing right next to Guy Mezger and didn't even recognize him. Also, apparently nobody else here at the M-1 event likes ties either. #
- …except Ian Freeman who just walked by. #
- So Ian just pulled Mark Kerr aside to get an autograph (for a friend). Kerr's a huge dude but I pictured him being bigger. #
- Oh hell, if I'd known I was going to be on live international TV tonight I would have shaved the beard. #
- @Bullshido sitting here ringside at M-1. Fedor and Mousasi are about to do their exhibition fight. #
- @Bullshido. Mousasi is wearing a red belt and fedor is wearing a blue belt. Huh? #
- @FightLaunch in general or at M-1 last night? KC's scene has been going strong since the blackout days in the 90's. Good fighters here! in reply to FightLaunch #
- Judging in Topeka. Figures that someone would schedule a boxing event on the night of the UFC. Wonder if I can get a p-b-p on my phone… #
- Taking my daughter to see Inglorious Basterds. Good family fun. #
It is incredibly difficult to sit down and compose a coherent post on little more than half a cup of coffee and sheer willpower. And the latter seems to be much more effective than the former.
“Social justice” is a phrase that I’ve seen popping up a lot in the past few days, usually related to left/liberalism and especially within the context of health care. Come to think of it, the guy in my last blog post used the phrase as a part of his denunciation of liberal politics.
I had a brief conversation with someone today over IM that went like this:
Phrost: is it trolling if you mostly agree with what you’re posting, but just dial it up 10 notches?
Person: i’d call it quasi-trolling
Phrost: we need to invent a word for it
I’ve take a bit of time today, in between other things I’m working on, to engage in a few “conversations” of this nature over Facebook. I pretty much meant everything I said, but expressed it in a manner that undoubtedly came off as if I’d downed a pot of coffee and had a swarm of bees up my ass. Or in other words, like I just got back from the gym, which was the case.
I generally consider myself to be a fairly easy-going guy. I’m about as high-strung as an unsprung bungee cord; rated to handle even the heaviest loads without snapping. And in my line of “work” this is undoubtedly an excellent trait to posses. Sometimes though, I do get into situations where the load rating is beyond the manufacturer’s recommended guidelines.
I paid a shitty latte’s worth of rent on a booth with an outlet nearby at a local chain coffee shop. The wifi here sucks more than a roomba programmed by Cyberdine, with the latte itself running a close second. Still, I figure, it’s a fair trade for the illusion of ambiance and a clear head to crank out some words. Too bad that wasn’t to be.