Current Mood: Flirtatious

Since I have come across it a couple times in the last few years, I will now explain this concept using the male cast of Coupling. If you haven’t watched Coupling, go buy, download or YouTube it right now, you poor, deprived person! I’ll warn you now, though…just stop at the end of season 3 and pretend that was it…the shark was not only jumped, but humped, bumped, and trumped in season 4.

Jeff, Steve and Patrick are in the bar on the sofa and side chair, as per usual.

Jeff

Steve

Patrick

Jeff:  Okay, so I’ll tell you about “The Feeling Ceiling.”
Steve, looking skeptical:  Okay…
Jeff:  Right…so…there’s these women, right?
Steve:  There usually are, with your stories.
Jeff:  Okay, and some of them, for whatever reason, don’t want to hear “the big L” from their boyfriends…it freaks them out and they go all crazy…and not crazy in a good way.
Steve:  I’m familiar with these women.
Patrick:  I love those women! Er, I mean, like them…you know what I mean.
Steve:  Go on, Jeff.
Jeff:  Right…so…with some women, you go out with them for months, and things are going great, but you don’t know how far you can go…how high you can rise in your feelings for them.  You say “the big L”, and BAM!
Steve jumps.
Jeff:  …you hit…THE FEELING CEILING!
Steve:  I see. So…
Jeff:  And once you hit The Feeling Ceiling, you’re done! You’ve hit your head…you can’t go any higher.
Steve:  Right…so…
Jeff:  Even if you broke through, you’d be in the attic!
Steve:  Um…
Jeff:  …where your dad keeps his dirty magazines.
Patrick:  Result! Nice.
Steve:  Jeff…
Jeff:  Then the next thing you know your mum’s calling, “Jeffrey! Are you in the attic? Why is the chandelier shaking?”
Steve:  Too far, Jeff!
Jeff:  Huh? Oh, right…so that’s…”The Feeling Ceiling.” If you’re not careful and go too high, you’ll be in the attic, masturbating.

Steve shakes his head, and Patrick looks thoughtful. Jeff is lost in the moment.

Sound of laugh track clapping.

Current Mood: Playful

I started making this up in my head on Sunday, but had to concentrate on driving.

Sung to U2’s Sunday Bloody Sunday:

I can’t believe it snowed today,
Oh, I can’t even drive,
Please make it go away.

How low…
How low can the temperature go?
How low, how low,
Tonight, the ice will form,
Tonight…

Slippy, slidey, under all our feet,
Cars losing control across the street.
But I won’t join those stupid duds,
I went and got some,
Went and got some tires with studs.

Sunday, snowy Sunday…
Sunday, snowy Sunday…
Sunday, snowy Sunday…

And the sleet has just begun,
Many off the road, some more just spun.
Why can’t people drive for crap?
Moving slowly, surely, painfully,
Mind the gap.

Sunday, snowy Sunday…
Sunday, snowy Sunday…

How low…
How low can the temperature go?
How low, how low,
Tonight, the ice will form,
Tonight…tonight…

Sunday, snowy Sunday…
Sunday, snowy Sunday…

Scrape ice from your windshield,
Scrape the ice away.
Oh, scrape the ice away,
Oh, scrape the ice away,
(Sunday, snowy Sunday)
Oh, scrape away that damn ice!
(Sunday, snowy Sunday)

Sunday, snowy Sunday (Sunday, snowy Sunday)…
Sunday, snowy Sunday (Sunday, snowy Sunday)…

And I’m sure that it won’t stay,
When it warms up everything will turn to slush.
And today kids make snowmen,
Enjoy them now, a puddle they’ll be then.

(Sunday, snowy Sunday)

I can’t believe I made this song,
This waste of time, it is just wrong.

Sunday, snowy Sunday…
Sunday, snowy Sunday…

Current Mood: Bored

Another plasma blast went over Gareth’s head.  He hunkered down further into the hollow of the fallen tree.  Where the hell was Beatty?

Then there was a flurry of footfalls and Gareth’s partner’s slim form dived down next to him.  He had in his hands…

“Oh my God,” Gareth muttered.

Beatty’s eyes were locked on the round transparent sphere as he fiddled with the controls on the base.  “Yeah, it’s the antimatter drive,” he said, matter-of-factly.  “The Wells is damaged beyond repair, but the drive’s magnetic bottle is still intact.”

Gareth shook his head.  “Naw, man, naw…”

Beatty reached out and grabbed Gareth by his collar.  The man’s eyes put tempered steel to shame, Gareth thought.  “Nothing else we have has even made a mark on the enemy ship,” he said.

With the flip of a switch, the antimatter drive started to emit a keening wail.  Beatty continued, “The date is June 30, 1908 AD, and that river back there?  It’s called the Tunguska.  We have history on our side, Gareth.  Those bastards don’t have a chance.”

Current Mood: Playful

Geoffrey and Emily were playing with the blow-up hammers they got at the PNE.

Geoffrey: Emily’s hammer is bigger than mine.

Me: But do you know how to use it?

Geoffrey: Yeah.

Me: Okay then.

Current Mood: Playful

The other night I had a dream that I was hired to be a dealer for a high-stakes poker game in some guy’s garage.

Later, I agreed to a poker hand with a rich guy for lots of money, but instead of cards we used comics from my collection.  I’m happy to report that my quads of the same issue of Cherry Poptart (NSFW) beat a full house of 2 different classic issues of Incredible Hulk.

So I get from this that I’d better finish indexing my comics so I can make some money from them, and I miss playing poker.

Current Mood: Bored

The Sandman comic books introduced the idea of the library of unwritten books. Here is an excerpt from one of those books:

The old man’s eyes glistened with the promise of tears as he finished his story.

“A woman like that comes along but once in a lifetime. I would have given her anything she asked of me. In the end I did…I gave her her freedom.”

Current Mood: Cool

Trying to figure out the meaning of life is like an ant trying to comprehend human nature as the foot comes down. — Jim Allison

Current Mood: Playful

Dear work,

You make so many demands on my time.  You are sometimes long and hard, and you exhaust me.  Some days I just don’t even want to get out of bed because of you.

Still, without you my kids wouldn’t be able to live.  My life would really kind of suck.  I’m better off with you than without you.

Also, I’m using work as a metaphor for my penis.

Sincerely, Jim

Current Mood: Angry

Last night’s dream was the emotional equivalent of kicking a man while he’s down — no, not enough — kicking him in the nuts while he’s down.

So screw you, subconscious, and the Id you rode in on!

Current Mood: Cool

My shyness is the cloud cover to my radiant heart.

– Jim Allison