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Thursday, February 24, 2005
My job, in the news:
The Austin Chronicle ran a story in this week's edition about the Spanish-language newspapers in Austin. The article, by Belinda Acosta, has quotes from the four heads of Spanish papers in Austin, including me. They took my photo and everything.
I just read the article for the first time, so I haven't had any real time to process it other than to think that I don't really know what "ghetto newspaper" is supposed to mean, and that the editorial from "El Mundo" sounds a lot worse now than it did when it ran last year, before we even got started. I wonder if they still think those kinds of things about us.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Silly little things, dogs that bite
A few things, first. A longish videogame review of mine, for "WarioWare Touched!" for the Nintendo DS. I played practically the entire game on a short trip to and from Austin/New Braunfels, and my thought upon getting home was, "That's it? I beat an entire game in the space of a short car ride?"
Also, a new recap at TWOP, this one featuring a guest recapping Rottweiler named Roger. I like the way it turned out:
Canines With Sharp Canines -- Clark finally gets a dog, but it's no ordinary dog. It's one of a pair of thieving mongrels who've been given Kryptonite injections to make them super-strong. Yep, it's as dopey as a Dean R. Koontz book, all right. Also, Lana may kill off Jason's entire family. You mean after four years, she's finally going to do something?
I didn't blog at all yesterday, which is unusual for a Monday, but it's by virtue of how busy things have suddenly gotten. I know, there's nothing worse than a blogger complaining about how they're not blogging or an employed writer complaining that they're not writing the kinds of things they want to write, so I'll spare you guys all that.
The busy-ness has more to do with a lot of stuff coming up with work, LCP and a trip I'm taking this weekend to Oklahoma for a journalism conference. I'm also going to Atlanta news week -- for like three hours. Don't even ask. I'll take photos and tell you the whole story then. We also put Space Monkeys! on vacation this week because PJ's got a bunch of school stuff going on and we have a storyline starting up Monday that we don't want to screw up by trying to rush through.
I was looking at some forums yesterday and I saw one of those banner ads that advertised something about "8 hours of perfect sleep," and I remember staring at it for about two minutes, trying to align those words in my head so they made some kind of sense. I understand the concept of "perfect sleep." I mean, I've heard tales of it. And "8 hours" as a function of time is also relatable to me. It's about the halfway mark of my Tuesday work-day. But putting those two ideas -- that you would lie in a comfortable bed and sleep for 8 hours.
Well, that doesn't really compute. To me, that's some decadent Caligula shit right there. Sleeping? For 1/3 of a day? All at one time, without getting nuzzled by kittens who've been running around all night knocking shit over? Without getting elbowed in the face or kneed in the groin by your bed-mate? Without flopping around because it's too hot or too cold and the sheets are too stifling, or in disarray, across the bed?
I stared at the words like an ape at a big black space monolith, thinking, "This message must have been intended for people like me, so why did they use this indecipherable fantasy language? Why not just advertise magic beans that can grow you a giant beanstock that will lead you to gold riches?"
Still, 8 hours of sleep. I bet that actually exists somewhere in the world. It's like a city of gold-trimmed comforters.
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.
RIP Hunter S. Thompson. I'm not even sure what to think of this. Mostly I'm just in shock right now.
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