Friday, February 09, 2007

Oh, no!

FakeBlogging

Not the birds!

image


Posted by Patton on 02/09/07 at 02:44 PM
FakeBlogging • Permalink

My People Are You Wit Me Wheah You At?

Perfidy

Alright, that’s about enough.  If it’s up to the Lethal to provide content for this joint, we’re all gonna be deep in it.

If someone doesn’t post something by 1300 only-timezone-that-matters time, I’m going to bird blogging. 

See if I don’t.

I can tell you all about my new feathered flying friends, who come to dine and tease my cat.  Since we put out the seed and a coupla bricks of suet, we get tufted titmice, black-capped chickadees, some sort of yellow woodpecker, a male and female pair of downy woodpeckers, mourning doves (always in an odd-numbered group, interestingly enough), and most recently some chubby starlings (or perhaps grackles).  And a few dozen little sparrows that hang around with their robin friends in the bushes.  Maybe I’ll tell you about the nice big bluejay who would stop by briefly on occasion.  He never ate much, and now he surely won’t because he died.  Found him stiff as a board in the driveway with no visible wounds. 

Try me, motherf*ckers. 

1300, or it’s the backyard aviary blog.


Posted by GeekLethal on 02/09/07 at 10:35 AM
Perfidy • Permalink

Thursday, February 01, 2007

Live to Ride, Ride to Freeze Yer Nads Off

Holy Shit!

My morning commute is now a solid hour, not including time spent at the daycare where I leave the Li’lest Lethal.  Sometimes I hang out there for up to 30 minutes if he’s especially needy that morning or I want to work some more on the kickass pyramid of Legos I started there the other day.  Well what the eff, I’m there for a half hour!

But we’re talking about 60 minutes in the car.  It must be said that the actual distance is only about 25 miles.  Problem is that...well, I’m not sure really.  I just know that the 15-odd mile stretch of interstate highway I utilize is comprised of 3 to 5 lanes, depending, and traffic on all them goes about, oh, 32mph when it moves at all.  In such circumstances it is vital that my spawn remain at least nominally occupied, both for his own general wellbeing and to prevent me from opening the driver’s side door and hurling myself out of it so I don’t have to hear the relentless horrible crying anymore.  Although, come to think of it, given that highway traffic is usually crawling, I probably wouldn’t get too hurt.  But I would look totally stupid.  Maybe I could make sure I hit head first or something.  THen I wouldn’t hear the crying and I wouldn’t have to care how stupid I (surely) looked. 

The best form of sonic sedation is your basic kids’ music, 100 of the songs you thought were played out and lame by the time you were about 4.  These renditions are modernized and produced in a real studio by real engineers and real singers, which doesn’t really help much, truth be told.  And let me tell you, “Bingo was his name, oh” starts feeling like an icepick in my eardrums after awhile, and by the time the CD has restarted with “a tisket (?) a tasket (?) a green and yellow basket”, my thoughts wander again to whether the situation might be improved by just jumping out the door.

But what happens is that while the music dominates the interior space and soothes the savage child’s breast, I am looking at the exterior world with greater than usual attentiveness in an effort to find something to distract me from the unending preschool jams inside.  Today, instead of having to really bear down and pay attention, something came to me: a dude on a motorcycle.

The only reason that is remarkable is that the ambient temperature was about 20.  That’s 20F, for you non-Amurricans or domestic bedwetters.  And that’s respectably chilly in these parts.  You know, wear-a-hat weather.  But this cat was not only on his bike, he was in the fast lane (which, quite abnormally, was actually going fast), where I sat on his back wheel at 75 for about 5-10 minutes, but when there were some openings in the other lanes he weaved and was gone, 90+.  I don’t have the science fu to calculate windchills and whatnot, but I would think that any micron of exposed skin would be black and necrotic in about 3 seconds.  I like to think his car was just in the shop or wouldn’t start, because a guy who’s that into riding is kinda unsettling to me.

So that gave me enough to think about this morning to keep me from making the leap.

And btw, I learned (not the hard way, thank the Dark Ones) that the Connecticut State Police have at least one unmarked SUV.  Couldn’t get alot of detail; I was 9 lanes and a concrete divider away, going the opposite direction at about 70, and at a time in the early morning when colors tend to wash out.  At a glance, looked like a white or gray Blazer, with heavy tint on the windows.


Posted by GeekLethal on 02/01/07 at 02:51 PM
Holy Shit! • Permalink
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