if anyone had the misfortune of being within earshot of me today they might well have thought i was being tortured. maybe i was. so many things can go wrong in my little universe of self-referential accumulation, and today it seemed like all things that could go wrong did go wrong. on the other hand, maybe that is evidence of good network design, because for all that hassle, my web sites were mostly reachable all the while, meaning that i have enough points of failure with permissable outages that i don’t have to worry about the whole house of cards crashing down on account of one or even a series of problems. yay me. or yay something.

i almost got wanderlic.com out the door in its new format. almost.

i bought something called an AirDesk, which should hoist my 10-pound laptop into the air and off my crotch. the laptop weighs 10 pounds, and the metal rack that holds the cooling fans probably weighs a pound or 2. that’s a lot of love to be crushing my junk, i do say. i just got the AirDesk but have not put it together yet. the web site for that product is kinda scary. it looks like it was made by a 12 year old, but that’s how a lot of web sites looked in the 1990s, which appears to be when that site went online.

but yeah, the relentless feeling of torture is starting to get to me, and it’s not even any kind of a relief to scream and piss and moan about it any more. the anger only seems to further poison my spirit. how much longer can i do this? i am coming up on 10 years without a regular job, and i guess about 8 years without a “client” or a “customer”. being bossless is easy to get used to, but having to manage so much self-exclaimed sprawl is going to be the death of me, to use a cliche…

…..

i think i have gotten the hang of the French press coffee making regimen. i spent some time yesterday grinding a huge bag of coffee beans. i used Puree, which i thought was amusing, pureeing coffee. but it ground that shit to sawdust, which i think makes better coffee. i bought several enormous bags of Starbucks coffee at Costco earlier this year, but then those fucking Cuisinart coffee makers stopped working, right on schedule (they seem only to last a year), so i had all this fucking coffee filling my cabinets while i explored instant and corner-store coffee and other forms of coffee sludge. then i found the old French press and remembered a coffee-snob friend saying that there is no easier way to make coffee — except, I suppose, for instant, but no coffee snob would consider that option. i picked up a box of Starbucks Via, using a freebie Starbucks gift card I got from a credit card rewards program, and the stuff was not bad for instant, but surprisingly inconsistent from packet to packet to packet. to packet.

i think i got the current French press from a coffee subscription service. not Gevalia. some other one that piled on the freebies to lure coffee addicts, so i got the press, a grinder, and a bunch of other shit that i think i threw out. there must be better devices of this type, is all i’m saying. good God i am boring.

…..

PUTTING YOUR CARS IN A ROW, IN A DUCKBILLED CRACKER OF FOMENT AND GROWLING BRISKNESS, SWATTING ITSELF WITH CREATIONARY VIOLENCE THAT EXPLODES WITH THE GROUND BENEATH YOUR RESENTMENT, THE SOUND ABOVE YOUR IMPATIENCE, THE HEAVEN ABOVE THE FLOODING OF THE WORLD WHERE CENTURIES AND PEAKS DROWN LIKE BALDHEADED MEN AT THE HIGH SCHOOL PROM, DROP LIKE BALONEY SLABS AND PEANUT BUTTER BLOBS INTO THE IDLENESS OF LUXURY’S BRAIN CAVITY, THAT STORIED STUTTERING PLACE THAT DEMANDS INTRUSIONS AND EXPOSES MUSCULAR WEAKNESSES IN THE TICKLISH REGION OF COLLECTIVE HUMAN GUT, SMEARING ITSELF WITH LOW-CLASSED CONDIMENTS AND ALLERGY-INDUCING WINE FROM FABRICATED REGIONS OF AUSTRALIA AND SOUTH AMERICA, UNINSPECTED ZONES OF OUR SHARED EARTH WHERE ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE, ANYTHING CAN GET AWAY FROM THE LAVA OF SURVEILLANCE POURING ITSELF OVER THE FLOODED PLANET, SEARING AND STEAMING INTO THE GALAXIES OF ASTHMATIC GODS AND FUSSY ONE NIGHT STANDS WITH THE GASSY RETORT OF COLOSSAL BOILING AND UNIMAGINABLE FIRE. THE HEAT STRAYS FROM THE PLANETS INTO THE GALAXIES AND OFF THE CALCULABLE, SEARCHABLE, INDEXED REALM OF SYMPATHY AND ABORTED PANIC.