July 30, 2003
WHAT TIME IS IT?
TIME FOR A LINK DUMP
I can't sleep, so instead, I choose to inflict my online amusements upon you. Enjoy.
Is that Mr. T in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?
I love art that smells like low tide.
And when there was no meat, we ate fowl and when there was no fowl, we ate crawdad and when there was no crawdad to be found, we ate sand. You ate what? We ate sand.
Apparently the guys at Google were jealous that Yahoo! was getting in all the good political search engine jokes.
Here's an optical illusion that's making the e-mail rounds.
The world is all about choices, isn't it?
And I choose not to photograph these.
I would so win this contest.
You know, it's true what they say: The world don't move to the beat of just one drum .
You can ride this for 100 miles and hang it up on your porch afterwards for use as a set of wind chimes.
If I had a hammer, I'd hammer in the morning. I'd hammer in the evening, all over this land. I'd hammer out danger. I'd hammer out a warning. But I sure as hell wouldn't jam the goddamn hammer through my pie hole, that's for sure.
I have always wondered: What happened to Boo Berry?
