This was the week of weird stories.
(Disclaimer: You must be 18 or older to read beyond this point, or at least be more than a complete idiot. Do NOT try any of the following at home)

This includes the following:

Souls are now apparently on sale on E-Bay . . . for $8.67 . . . according to a recent search I just did on Yahoo! Don't believe me, check for yourself. What's that say about our economy now? or the state of our souls? Just don't ask what I was looking for. . . and don't try selling your soul on E-Bay.

My cousin went to take care of a deceased uncle's affairs this past fall and came back with an unusual photo. I saw it Sunday. It may just be sunlight on the sidewalk, or something reflected in a window. I'm not sure what it really is , but it will doubtlessly prove to be a cool classroom aid, especially in conjunction with reading this poem by T. S. Eliot. I need to call my cousin and ask him if he's willing to let me share it on my fotolog.

My friend (we'll call him Crag Bluff) told me about a game called 'phonebook.'
Don't play this game.
Apparently the object of the game 'phonebook' is to drink a shot of whiskey and then bap your pal up the backside of the head with a phonebook. Then you switch places. Crag Bluff and friend apparently made it 18 rounds last week before calling it a day. I don't think they did 18 shots of whiskey. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you hyperbole. This is kinda like the game where you put a lump of soap in a sock and then swing it at your friend's ribs... Don't play this game, either.

Meaning no disrespect to any parties involved, especially those on the highest authority, I made a slight modification to my roommate's bike. He got said bike from a guy named Mike. I preface this bit with a disclaimer for those who may become upset: The 2nd of 10 commandments says not to make graven images of gods, or God himself. So... at sometime before giving the bike to my roommate, Mike put a bunch of tattoo stickers and a figure of Jesus from a crucifix on the handlebars of his bike.
I don't know why.
What I do know, is that made the handle bars really loose. There was a big screw going into His back to hold Him on the handlebars and hold the handlebars onto the bike frame. You could tighten an eyebolt on the other side of the handlebars to keep them steady, tight, and together, but soon that failed to work, making the bike dangerous to operate. So I had to take the figure of Our Lord off the handlebars of this bike. I didn't have the heart to tighten the big screw in his back, and figuring He'd been through enough already, I just took Him down. In his place, I put a newish 1/4" bolt with washers and a nut to hold the handles together.
It's now safe to operate this vehicle.
The Figure was in my toolbox and is now in the basement on a cushion. In the right light, He looks like He's tanning on the beach. Meaning no disespect to any of the parties involved, especially those in the highest authority, I'll return said Figurine to my roommate whenever he comes home (My roommate that is).

Today, the spacecraft Huygen made a landing on Titan, Saturn's largest moon. It took some cool photos, and a guy outside of the Blue Note at 19th & Carson St with a high powered telescope set up on the sidewalk had printouts of these photos. He also was letting people check out Saturn. how cool was that? It's onlythe second time I've seen Saturn in my life. It looked like a wihite circle witha white dot inthe middle of it. The bright dot beside it was Titan. You can't see the Huygen space probe through the telescope, though. Not even after a few martinis. Speaking of which, you can have a drink called 'cosmonaut:' it's vodka mixed with Tang. i learned this ata friend of a friend's party to commemorate the Huygen landing. Folks wore tin foil hats and played DDR, the video game with dance pads imported from Singapore. The list of 'things' that came up at the end of the evening, which included a 'rusty trombone' and 'bad dog', I won't print here. I will print the new nickname i've been given: Star Crunch.

I replaced two of the handles on my car doors recently, both on the passenger side. The front one I did a few weeks ago, and then had to redo again this week. The rear door hadn't opened in close to 2 years, and I opened it succesfully yesterday, replaced the handle. It's at about 75% functionality. We'll go for a ride sometime and I'll explain what I mean. While replacing the handle, some guy walking by asked me a fir a cigarette. And then another for the road, ya know cuz he'll need one now and one later, especially after leaving Red and Irene's. Right. Silly me, I ignored the fading daylight and obliged him. Then I watched him walk away and talk with a couple gathering signatures for a petition. When they came to talk with me, I saw that he signed the wrong date. I guess I may have done the same in his situation.

The group or band called The Innocence Mission are awesome. Their lead vocalist Karen is simply as beautiful as her simply beautiful voice, sounding much like Harriet Wheeler, the woman from The Sundays. Apparently Kathy Jo thinks they rock, too, as I saw something about them on her living room wall the other day.

Sometimes a nickname appears, and disappears. Sometimes a nickname sticks.

Telephone conversations suck only slightly less than emails.

"What is it about the Steelers' success that makes people say, 'Where's my kazoo?' " - Gene Collier. A pretty good article in the NY Times today about us Pittsburgh folks and our belvoed Steelers. It's accurate, at least in a way that says we can take pride in the Steelers. I don't own a kazoo though, and hopefully won't get one anytime soon. Then I'd have to write the 21st bad Steelers song of the season.

In other news: Dog hit by car turns out to be man in costume. Man's life saved by costume.
Teacher news: Funny, but not funny.
Odd news: Careful what you say.

Queston of the the day: What the heck's all of Canada doing with no hockey, eh?
Question a Canadian asked me one day: What word do you Yanks have for "eh," eh?
Asshat question I have for asshat vegetarians: If God didn't want us to eat meat, why does it taste so good?