Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Sound and fury... Signifying nothing.


The title of today's blog should give away most of my thoughts.

Although... To use more of the same quote (bold text denotes a change for humour):

Out, out brief candle
Bush, is but a poor player
who struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard from, no more.
It is a speech told by an idiot
Full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

I did that one from memory... So any Shakespeare fans out there that take umbrage to my quotation... Please deal.


I'm feeling pretty good. I spent all day Sunday, and most of yesterday sending out job stuff... Gah. But I get to take today off. Also did laundry, but really... Who cares about that. I made yet ANOTHER wonderful meal... My mother actually licked her plate. So... I know I'm still an amazing cook. I have yet, to do the dishes, however... And it's looking a bit messy up in the kitchen.


To my friends in Britain, who've always wondered where the American phrase: "Going Postal" came from... Here's yet another example of it: Link. You really have to wonder what the hell goes ON in a post-office in the States. I mean... Talk about a dangerous job!

My Lady bought me a really wonderful gift for our "Anniversary." Before you all worry... It's not our first "wedding" anniversary, it's our 2nd "first DATE" anniversary... Which is tomorrow. Anyhoo... She got me Bill Bailey's "Live at the Apollo, Part Troll" on the iTunes music store. He's a great comedian from Britain, and I'm going to link to a rather funny song that sort of sums up his humor, fairly well:
Unisex Chip Shop (in honour of Billy Bragg)

Mick will recognise the singer. Or maybe not, as this is Bill Bailey pretending to be Billy Bragg, rather than Chris de Burgh. Anyhoo... Hope folks like it.

I'm off. My Lady is going out "running" with the puppy. Gah. There's no way in hell, you would get me to go jogging. Well... It's her funeral.

I'm going to have another cup of joe, smoke another fag... And then perhaps I'll actually get going, do the three "s's" and finally clean up the kitchen from my culinary exhaustion from last evening.

Smiles and kittens, readers...

-- Tuckmac