Ok, ok, I know I was all psyched up about going shooting this weekend, and I didn’t. I stayed home, it was cold, and I just conked out on the couch. So, like sue me, I didn’t take any pictures.
I got the lensbaby in the mail on Saturday. It’s actually kind of cute, well, about as cute as an el cheap-o plastic fake lens with a silly “not really working” bellows on the front of it can be. Ok, so maybe cute was a poor choice of words. It’s at my house, and that makes it good, even if it’s none too cute.
Steve’s Tivo has actually blown up. Kaboom, smoke coming out the sides, stopped recording, blown up, blown up. So much for the silly little fake hex that I put on it so that he wouldn’t feel so special ’cause he got his first. Kaboom! The good people at Humax are sending him a replacement, in the mail, along with some kind of return label so he can send his back, I guess, to the great Tivo depot in the sky-the place where Tivos with busted out hard drives get their little thumbs turned down one last time for all of eternity. Imagine a junk yard heap of old Tivos with bad hard drives, each having faithfully recorded one half of one episode of “Days of Our Lives” all just sitting there with little puffs of smoke coming out their once cheery little Tivo ears. Eeek. Remind me to stay away.
I’ll never put a curse on anything again. Ever. Well, ok, maybe not anything that might actually blow up. Today’s martial arts training has served to teach me I best learn to duck more efficiently before I walk headfirst into such situations. That and, I’m planning on staying far away from bar fights, because there’s a lot of people in Austin who can come out swinging and take out any low hanging lamps.
Brian Wilson, yes, that Brian Wilson (of the Bare Naked Ladies “Brian Wilson…” song fame, neh, that little summer fun band of the 60’s, The Beach Boys,) is going to present at this year’s South by Southwest music conference. You can say you read it here first (or not. Nobody actually admits to reading any of this.) I was hoping for something hardcore, something metal-like, something to get my blood pumping. Instead, I ended up with The Beach Boys. At least it’s music to swim to Ecuador to.
Until next time…