Wednesday, June 9

Bring Your Mitten Clips.

Here's the new format, ya' big babies. Make sure you leave me a comment about it, no matter what you have to say. If something isn't working right, or something isn't to your liking, PLEASE let me know so I can fix it. I want to make absolutely certain that this is the last time I do this, because it's way more work than I can handle, and I'd like to get back to other topics besides, "here's the new format!"

The new and improved links will be here tomorrow, and that will pretty much bring everything back up to speed. But again, if you see something you don't like, or you don't see something you DO like, leave me a comment and I'll take care of it.

Can I go to bed now?

Tuesday, June 8

I'll Mess With Texas.

I'm Ben Jenkel, and I approved this message.

"Ben is blasphemy!
Pretending to be our Lord,
Strumming the new song."

Due to petty bickering within an earshot of me during the last few weeks, I may or may NOT change the look of this page again. We'll see. If you have an opinion in the matter, post a comment. Remember that you don't have to register to post a comment if you're too lazy or afraid.

On Saturday night, I had a dream that my Dad was dead on the couch of my childhood home. He had a rope around his neck, and appeared to be posed after being killed somewhere else. There was a similar corpse next to him, but I screamed myself awake before I found out who it was.

On Sunday night, I had a dream that a man threatened me with a scissors, forcing me out of a bathroom with my pants around my ankles so his daughter could use it. My only display of defiance was as I was taking baby steps out the door, yelling to him, "You're the worst French ambassador we've ever had!" The Kindergarten-aged daughter fired back with, "Adios, Rooney!" In which I replied with, "Adios, you f***ing bitch!" I awoke laughing my ass off. (The F-word has been edited by me to preserve what little family atmosphere left here.)

And on Monday night, I dreamed that I was in my Grandparents' driveway on the hood of my car, talking to a cloud in the middle of the night. The cloud said something to me about dragons and witchery, and began to swoop down to me. I again screamed myself awake, and my nose started bleeding.

The last dream I can chalk up to my new surroundings in the mailroom where I work. Dawn, the resident mail handler, has covered every inch of drywall with more fantasy posters and action figures than all the Anime conventions in the world. Those first 2 dreams though, I'm telling ya...

It's the heat, is what it is. I can't stand peeling myself off of every surface I come into contact with for more than a second. You're uncomfortable everywhere, the electric bill goes through the roof, and intimacy is almost impossible for a neat freak such as myself. Celia so much as throws an arm around me, and I break out into a flop sweat so dense I go blind. There is about a 2-week span where it's comfortable to live in this part of the nation.

I still hate Texas.