Early eggnog

by Peter Tyrrell Friday, September 30, 2005 10:30 AM

I don't know what it is about eggnog, but I could drink that stuff until I bloated into a round soggy bag jetting a constant exit stream out my nostrils. I was in the grocery store last night, and every year I forget that they produce eggnog for a limited time just before Thanksgiving, and I saw it, and I went crazy and executed savage judo chops all over the elderly woman standing near the display and she went down flailing her cane at me but I dived at those 1 litre cartons like I was scoring the winning behind in the aussie rules match against the Western Bulldogs, and gathered them into my arms and crashed into the yoghurt section wallowing in noggy goodness and they were mine all mine, and I embarrassed my wife, I think. But who cares what she thinks! And that old lady was asking for it, because everyone knows eggnog is a full-contact sport.

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Ma in her kerchief and I in my cap

by Peter Tyrrell Tuesday, September 27, 2005 10:13 AM

I was driving this morning at an ungodly hour: tired, sleepy and also not very awake. I know some people think sunrise is a glorious trumpeting wonderment of an event and their heart skips tra-la within their chests in eagerness at meeting the challenges of a brand new day, whereas I would trade it all for a dirty blanket by the garbage can and my underpants stuffed with newspapers if it meant I could have another hour of sleep.

So anyway I'm driving through the fog, the fog being mostly stuck to the inside side of the windshield and nothing will make it go away, nothing, not the air on high, not the sleeve of my fleece, not my burning glare of irritation which I would have thought would act like a radioactive blowdryer, nothing, and suddenly, I find myself muttering about how come they only sell seedless watermelon nowadays, dammit.

Um... what?

It was clear that somebody else was using my brain while my attention was otherwise occupied in very important grumpywork. And not to its full potential, either. Some sort of... tinfoil hat might be in order. Or getting to bed earlier could be the right way to go. Or both. Just to cover all eventualities.

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Site might not bite

by Peter Tyrrell Monday, September 26, 2005 9:46 AM

Was kicking around a new look for my own website, peaeater.com, this weekend. I think I like it: new look maybe. It's kind of a break from the serious corporate looks I usually am working on. What would be perfect is a picture from East Sooke Park. I'll have to get out there with the camera before the weather breaks. And I was NOT hunched in front of the screen all weekend. Just a couple of hours. Maybe three. Okay, four. Shutup, I did so get outside. For hours. On a walk. It was very healthy.

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Um, a title

by Peter Tyrrell Friday, September 23, 2005 12:02 PM

Feeling inefficient? Can't seem to concentrate on work? Is the clock doing that "two seconds forward, one second back" thing? Well take a tip. 7 Habits of Highly Defective People recommends putting off until tomorrow what you might have done today. It's human nature. You don't want to be unnatural do you? Didn't think so. Go play. Homestarrunner http://homestarrunner.com/ Have mercy, O comic genii. Dooce http://www.dooce.com/ Best blog. Ever. Order of the Stick http://www.giantitp.com/ootsChars.html Hard-core D&D types only. Unshelved http://www.overduemedia.com/archive.aspx Librarianship can be funny. (Funny ha-ha.)

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Laff-A-Lympics

by Peter Tyrrell Thursday, September 22, 2005 10:30 AM

Once upon a time I meant this blog to contain useful and important informational tips on how to use Inmagic in a .NET environment and/or with javascript. Oh, they show up here and there still, but I confess I find that a less interesting pursuit than finding a wave of hilarity and riding until I'm tossed breathless and laughing up onto the beach.

That's a metaphor. See, which I also like. I just think there's nothing better than metaphorizing something to death, often involving cartoon levels of violence. Not that I grew up with TV. No TV in my house growing up. If I had had TV [ooh, pluperfect tense! you don't see that every day] I would have gotten my fill of Acme brand explosions and cliff-diving accidents. Unfortunately I never got enough and now am forced to manufacture it myself.

Actually, there is one more ingredient in the mix that I owe to an education in the Classics [capital C]: the epic simile.

An epic simile, also called a Homeric simile, is an extended comparison or cluster of similes or metaphors that are elaborated in great detail.

Yes! YES! YEEEESSSS! Of course Homer, writing [sorry, redacting] the Iliad and Odyssey, always used them to serious heroic effect, while I think they're highly amusing and bastardize them for the fun of it. Not that I don't like Homer. I love Homer. Homer, I love you. Your incredibly blood-soaked clashes between childishly arrogant uber-heroes: I love them. It's just that in this age of heightened self-evaluation and cultural guilt, they can only be used for satire and parody. Ah, well.

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