Mortie, Mortie: He's no shorty, Mortie.
The senate vows to ban tasty kobe beef, because Japan doesn’t want our mad-cow infested beef. In a beef promotion move, Japan’s neighbor China offers Clinton and Lewinsky condoms.
I found these two photos somewhere on About.com (a site whose purpose I know not what it’s about). A powerful use of Photoshop:
Charts at artwork. For the Tufte-inspired, History Shots.
“I think I may need a bathroom break? Is this possible?”
On this fourth anniversary of rememberance of September 11th, it reminds me how, as Americans, we had a real chance to prove ourselves, supplemented with the strength and understanding of our friends and allies. Sadly, we face the opposite situation today… summed up in this Skynews capture from Wonkette:
Well, so there’s a little bit of victoria, but mostly a pregnant Tracy, voted best-looking pregnant woman, ever. By me, and three formerly pregnant women she’s met! And that counts.
Taking the summer off. Back on the air Sept 6. Some links that have struck my fancy: The iPod Flea, My Dog is Tom Cruise, TypeCon, Hard to Tell Gaydar, 43 Things, 1960’s public service and educational films.
I’ve finally gotten to a point where I can breathe and relax. Most everything is set up, the CD project for my dad is coming along and should be ready before my stepdad Jerry visits on the 27th. Meanwhile, Travis and I are setting up OrtliebFamily.net, a site where family can post photos, commentary, and calendar dates, so we can keep in touch regularly.
I’ve been pretty burned out on blogs for the last couple of months… the only ones I’m reading lately are Washington Monthly, Good Morning Silicon Valley, Defamer, and regular submissions to Salon. These seem to have something to say, whereas most of the time I don’t.
After three days of doing this protein watch, I’m feeling a lot more alert… of course, it’s balancing with fruits and vegetables, which was never a problem. I’m still having to rely on a protein shake in the morning and an energy bar, although the nutritionist recommended imagining where the source of protein comes from. And if it’s a CLIF bar, I know exactly where: 5th and Virginia in Berkeley, California… inside the building.
I’m consciously trying now to tally what I’m eating… this is difficult… I don’t want to get Rain Man about the whole thing, but it’s really necessary right now.
A personal trainer at a gym I was (trying to) going to in Seattle recommended 120-140 grams of protein, and I thought about the acne he had and how he made sniffing sounds a lot, and well, you can’t really respect someone’s opinion when they throw out a number like that. Still, even with 90g, I’m still conjuring up images of raiding farm fields in search of a side of steer, but after a trip to PCC, it’s good to know it doesn’t have to be that way.
There are crazy people on Ballard buses, too — but not the Capitol Hill kind of crazy. Oh, the subcultures of the insane… speak to me! Or near me. Whatever.
I slept right through the fireworks, after eating a very large and tasty meal, filled with protein. Protein, protein, protein.