Snazzy Day Sunpile

The new year is always so underwhelming. No laser beams, no flashdancers, Krispy Kreme still tastes awful. I don't know why everyone is always porking for a skilling, but to me, it's just more of the same, which is very exciting.

I'm always threatening to dabble in all kinds of conflagratory bs, always pretty much flailing in a winter wind, biding time writing blogs about stalling and then crawling back to the loop de loo of the day, i.e. dishes, laundry, movies, cleaning, working, chlidren, reading, everything but nothing.

Right now I am overheated and underpaid, pre-disgruntled and chewing on an old gumball that has come to represent everything ersatz in life, and everything compelling. Is there a flavor rejuvenation that happens after all life has been molarly driven from the gum? Only chomping will tell, and the only thing that will stop me from reaching the unattainable flavor is the inevitable glomping of my very own cheek, drawing sad blood and recriminations and a horrid dance that I'm forced to jig. Fortunately cheeks heal quickly if you're old and boring and I can do it all over again in a few minutes, preferably in the exact same spot.

Bobby Fischer had made a mistake, as far as I could tell, in one of his books. I was convinced. A coworker who is infinitely better at chess proved me otherwise. Moral of the story: dude, don't second guess Bobby Fischer's chess skills.

Nervous as usual about school. Why? I make good grades. I will tell you why. I am nervous because I make good grades. That's because I make good grades because I am nervous. It's an unproven fact. Leave it or lump it.

You don't even want to know the boring, horrible books I've been reading.

1) Fortune's Formula

Not sure why David Pogue is reviewing this, but whatever. It's an interesting read, lots of players: mafioso, mathematicians, politicians (well, Rudy Guliani, kind of a cross between a self-obsessed hot air balloon and a pile of toenails, i.e. a politician), and brokers. Where do they all meet? Wherever there is a shit-ton of money.

2) Get Your War On

Strap on your land mine hat! This stuff has been causing inevitable bouts of laughter for years. It's hard on the ribs and it's hard on the heart, for it's hilarious and poignant at the same time. Check it out. Not for the squeamish or Republican.