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Thursday, August 14th, 2003
2:37a - All Good Deeds...
Quick, before it's too late... get your very own Texas ANG George W Bush Action Figure! (stolen from johno's journal)

Scary fact picked up from Mental Floss magazine: If you are under the age of 48 (and a US citizen, natch) you have never voted in a presidential election where a Dole or a Bush were not candidates for the office of vice-president or president. That's more than vaguely disturbing to me for some weird reason.

Okay, some pre-LJ history!

About two years ago I got to witness an auto-accident over the July 4th weekend. It was one of those really bizarre things that almost seemed too surreal for words. I was driving down El Camino toward this comic book shop I used to go to all the time when I used to live in Foster City (all hail Space Beaver!). The traffic was weird: the left lane was packed up in both directions, but the right lane was wide open. I was passing dozens of cars, keeping it sane 'cause you KNEW one of those saps would decide they had enough of THIS crap, and swing right into my lane in a desperate attempt to escape the backup.

There was this one guy about to make a left turn onto 39th. I honestly can't say why I remember as much as I do about this -- but I did notice him, and just got this feeling that there was something up. I looked up in my rear view mirror to check it out one last little paranoid time... just in time to catch him start to make the turn, and then pause for whatever reason, during which time he was nailed by a sedan not four car lengths behind me.

I had to backtrack via side streets (traffic just got seven times worse) and finally got there about 15 minutes after the accident. The driver of the sedan was being loaded onto a back board by paramedics.

Now, Things That Piss Me Off: This was mid-afternoon. On a clear, sunny day. Cars were STOPPED in both directions. There were two parking lots with people all over the place. Yet some how, I was the only witness not in one of the two vehicles.

I mention this because I finally received a call today from some law firm about it. I'm hoping it's for the driver of the sedan...


current mood: amused

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1:35p - Dealing With Skittering Things
So, I have a dehumidifier in the basement. It's probably our only line of defense against the inevitable mold issues that are the direct result of Mr. Numbnuts former owner's piss-poor home improvement savvy -- I mean, putting down wall to wall carpet on bare, untreated concrete? Sheesh...

Anyway, I was emptying it yesterday when I felt something under my left, bare foot. Looking down, I made that NOISE I make when all of my primal circuits are tripped, sending me floating back a good five feet. That's because I has stepped on a scorpion, already pre-killed.

I know Rob was complaining about cat-sitting a cat that liked her so much it brought her dead rats (and other formerly living things), and immediately got the feeling I was looking at one of our own Scout's kills (Scout is the sweet "black" cat who adores Rob). Picking up said corpse I brought it upstairs to show Michele (in hindsight, I have no idea why... perhaps it was some deep seated desire to prove I HAD stepped on one of those damn things). When I came up the stairs, Scout was lying on the couch, staring at me... and I swear she looked pleased that I had found it.

Considering this is only the second scorpion I've seen in the house in nearly six years, I'm not too worried. We deal with the pretty purple newts far more often.

Last night, Rob had a similar experience, only.... well, here's how it went down.

I was working on a CD order for Rotunda Artworks (woohoo!) when I hear Michele asking "John, be a man with long arms and take care of this really big spider!" Now, Michele may not LIKE spiders, but she's not deathly afraid of them. I grumbled a bit (I hate getting interrupted), but jumped when I saw the monster that Scout and her sister Love Child were herding on the kitchen floor. While not tarantula sized (I understand they have those in the foothills on the peninsula side... something I don't tell my arachnaphobic mother) it was impressive, and moved very, VERY fast. I scooted it into a glass jar and took it outside. My reward for this good deed was a seriously dirty look from the aforementioned fearless hunter, Scout. Love Child, who was the cat who found the spider, wasn't anywhere near as upset, and used the attention to ask to be played with for a bit.

Now, off to start my day...


current mood: contemplative

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