Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Welcome to Hell, Part One Hundred and Two

Goddamn, it's hot! After a brief respite last week, the Fiery Furnace of the Plains is back open for business. Recent highlights include watching birds drop from the sky fully roasted, making melted crayon mosaics in the street, and trying to coax Woody the Whistle Pig out from under the house with a Fudgesicle in one hand and a piece of frozen celery in the other (neither worked). One oh four yesterday, one oh one today, one oh-my-God tomorrow (you saw that coming, di'n't-cha?)

Spent today in the casa, working on that ol' vocabulary. Updated the "Currently Teaching" links, since I will soon be teaching something again.

As well, I've decided to learn to play the guitar. In my high school and college days, I was a drummer until I sold my drums back in the day (when I moved out of my parents' house). I guess I can still play, but it's been a while. Now, I am focusing my energy on the guitar, with ambitions to eventually tackle the piano, the trumpet, and the violin. I was never really that interested in other instruments when I was younger, but there's no time like the present.

If I find some time, I plan on improving my French and getting fluent in Spanish and Polish, too.

Somewhere in there, I expect I'll pick up my PhD in Twentieth Century American Poetry, Forestry, and Entymology. I still love me some insects!

What am I doing typing this? I gotta go, I got too much to do. Au revoir!


Anonymous said...

Speaking of hell, that sounds kinda like Mel, who's found himself in a different kind of fiery furnace of late. Indeed, the very issue of judgments about what is good/bad, beliefs about heaven/hell, and who might deserve to be where have suddenly drunkenly driven themselves to front and center of the pop culture stage with Mad Mel's recent derogatory remarks. Once self-righteously smug and now expressing questionably-sincere remorse to save face, Mel might want to consider another spiritual influence: Karma.

Damn, the heat has The Aim en fuego! With all cylinders blasting too and isht.

Speaking of hot hot damn hot and all cylinders firing, this morning's 5:30 run included all the joys of an 80-degree temperature and steamy sauna-like conditions. Next time I'll dangle a fudgesicle and a piece of frozen celery on a stick in front of me to see if that helps the run.

Gee, I had no idea that there is a PhD program in Twentieth Century American Poetry, Forestry, and Entymology. Is that something like, "If bugs speak poetry in the forest and nobody is there to hear it, does it make a rhyming sound?" That would make for quite an interesting dissertation topic. And and and you could be the background guitarist at the poetry jam!

Tyin it all together randymcfandylandy iyhpuz style,


ATR said...

You can just call me Buckaroo Banzai.

Yours, across the 8th dimension.