So you might remember this post I wrote a while back–the one where I coo over Leslie Hall. Well guess what, ladies and gents, SHE TOUCHED ME LAST NIGHT! I have photographic evidence (click for a larger image):

I asked for a signature, but I think she was far too bored for that (or maybe inebriated). If you can decipher the mess scrawled across my chest, then I will send you a lolly.

So I generally don’t remember my dreams. However, I awoke last week to not only remember a dream, but also to be quite pleased by what took place therein (get your drip rag out now).

I must preface this dream by explaining that I’ve long fantasized about getting a really bad tattoo–something I really hate. It has to do with people saying, “you know, you’re really going to hate that some day.” I guess it would be great to tell them that they are wrong–that I hated it before I ever permanently affixed it to myself. On to the dream.

So this asshole was locked into some kind of ideological struggle with me–he was reminiscent of the motivational speaker portrayed by Patrick Swayze in Donnie Darko.
He was spreading all sorts of slanderous lies about me, and I knew that I had to put an end to his shit eating ways. Of course, I was well aware that the most surgically precise way to end the debate was to get a huge photorealistic tattoo of this jerk on my back (not of Clint, mind you, but of my bitterly hated opponent).
When I approached my mother with the idea for this tattoo, she agreed that it was the only logical course of action.

It would have been a fun dream no matter, but the fact that my own mother was 100% behind me on marring my body with a hideous tattoo of a person I hated is what made this one special enough to brag about.

I can only imagine what would have happened if I had dreamed my dream a little longer… Jim Cunningham stunned into submission by my brilliant tattoo. The entire town cheering me on and knowing that I had been right and good all along.

Victory.

This goddamn blog is turning into a cheap soap box. Oh well, here goes nothing…

All of my friends in Boregon should know that Senator Gordon Smith is a far larger douchebag than originally suspected.

Senator Smith got some moneys from the RIAA and the MPAA (the people who control pop music and Hollywood). Now what is he doing, but trying to put an end to fair use! For my non-dork friends, this means that Senator Smith doesn’t want you to be able to use TiVos, iPods, and VCRs to their fullest extent.

The long and short of Smith’s proposed bill is that when you’re watching/listening to TV, movies, radio, Internet or satellite radio, the industry would have a legal right to “flag” the media. Flagged media would be restricted… it couldn’t be watched or listened to later (à la TiVo, VHS recording for later viewing, or saving a program onto your mp3 player). Basically, if this shit passes, it won’t stop piracy–it will just require us to download more cRakz and annoying warez programs to do what we want with our media!

But what do we do?? We could join some dorky ass squad and hand out flyers in the Trader Joe’s parking lot to yuppies who don’t care about this shit (despite the fact that they wear white earbuds too)! Instead, let Senator Smith know that you know that he is full of shit with this handy form (powered by the EFF–they are good people).

If you do that, good for you! You care about stuff. If you’re from Boregon and you have iPod toting friends, you might want to have them fill this out too.

I apologize for the fact that my blog has degenerated into this sort of political rambling–I just think that it’s fucking horrible that Senator Smith is pushing such crap legislation in my home state.

I’ve got a little project that is going to be unveiled soon soon soon (or so I hope). There will be fun times in the futuristic future.

Oh, and Kompressor is dead!