Saturday, February 19, 2005

How did George Bush (Sr.) and Bill Clinton become best friends. First, they're on commercials together, then they go to the Super Bowl. Now they are going on a fundraising tour of tsunami ravaged Countries. I hear next they are going jet skiing in Tahoe.

Dare I speculate about a Presidential ticket in 2008. Come on people, this crazy combination was also foreshadowed in the movie My Fellow Americans; didn't anyone else see that? ... Didn't think so.

  Friday, February 18, 2005

Remember a couple months ago when Byrne got a job and I put a picture of him in the Pike-house hallway, doing something odd, with his junk covered by a little black box. Well, I guess I established a tradition of putting up pictures like that anytime someone gets a job in the Seattle area. That being said...


I'm not really sure what I was doing either, but trust that my pants are down underneath that block, or up, I'm not sure which way you would call it.

Most of you already know about this, the job that is. I actually got it nearly three months ago. I moved up here at the beginning of the month, into Ques's condo, and I have just finished my second week of work. My lack of announcement is due to a general blogging lackadaisicalness. I hear what you're saying, "Rory's making excuses for not blogging, it's doomed."

I'm not going to cry about not having regular internet access the last seven months. Rather then making excuses for not blogging or make apologies for not having great contact, I'm going to go lower then I've been. Here is a list of people with decent blogs who lately have sucked as much or more then mine has:

Tom**
Perenic
Vyvoda*
Aymond
Baldauff*
Stu
Ken
*Some added just to make list longer (blogs don't suck)
**This one really sucks

I have a whole wealth of blogable material from the last seven months, back to and including my reflections on the trip out here. As I increase posting frequency I may pull a few of those bits out of my California hat.

Until I share with everyone those CA stories, I feel like there is a blank spot on that era of my life. I showed up and left fairly discretely. I never even got to befriend the cool Mexican guy. You know, the one with whom I share a heartfelt goodbye, and as I hop on my horse and ride into the sunset I shout back to him, "Adiós mi amigo!" Then the camera fades on my silhouette and he quietly utters back, "Goodbye... my friend."

I do want to mention a few things now though. Just that I'm going to miss some things, like my nephew and the kids at work, and the ladies. This is getting long, so to summarize: new job, naked picture of me, in Seattle, lots of stories, I think I'm the protagonist of a dramatic buddy film, good-night.