A handsome piece of deformity.

That said, I really don’t know what to make of the situation. Truly, how does one bring peace to a world whose air is polluted by ducks and kittens, a world where rabbits can’t possibly find their teeth despite maps clearly marked? A damn shame, I tell you. A damn shame.

…

But, on a serious note, I do have things to update about; I simply need to post them. There are times when, despite all efforts to the contrary, the days, weeks, months fly by with minimal fanfare and no notice. Time’s accelerating and history a piece of architecture, both gloriously constructed and infinitely faceted, though eclipsed by my many-form as I fly through. Wish the bloody world would stop for a minute, two even, so I could admire all that I see around me and live life fully. I’m tired of having to read about the past, even my own, through texts and scribbled notes; I’d prefer to experience it as it happens, rather than in retrospect when I get the chance to stop for a breather.

“Why am I suddenly here? I don’t remember driving or walking to this place. Is it only some existential terror that makes me feel as though I have been newly brought into the world with a full set of memories and a purpose already prepared for me?”

With the completion of all (well, not all — never all — but most) work-related obligations, I’ve found myself in the dire clutches of… sloth! Yes, sloth.

NOTE: For those keeping count, I’m the phallic pole of wood being gripped by… ack. Ok. No more sexual imagery. Maybe. Yack.

A lackadaisical attitude has grasped me to its heaving bosom and, frankly, refuses to let go. Kick and scream as I might, I seem to be stuck here — here being the place I’m currently in, my home office — wherein I while away the hours reading, listening to music, and playing computer games. Not a bad existence, really, just one that does not lend itself lightly to blog buggery.

Anyways. With an email prompt from my kid-sister, well, my ass has been kicked into gear and, at long last, here’s a fabled Sickson Update!

To those brave few who have read this far, the rest of this message has been scribed in braille. To read, press your fingers firmly to the screen and rub vigorously. However, make certain to eat a tub of Kentucky Fried Chicken first as greased fingers ensure minimal friction for that smooth and easy-reading feeling.

Coffee in the evening plus marking until midnight equals fitful sleep with dreams about grading papers equals an exhausted Sickson. >_<

I did wake up to something amusing in my mail which VNV Nation fans out there will likely find just as funny as I did. Behold: Afraid of Swords!

Funny thing, this; logging into Blogger just now, it has the neat cookie-option check-box of “Remember me?” — you know, so that I don’t have to enter my log-in info everytime I visit the site — and I thought to myself, “Yeah, of course I remember you, silly Mr. Bloggerboy. The question is, do you remember me?”

It’s been a week to the day since I last logged in and, sadly, this update is to be as brief as my previous entry. Pardon my brevity, but really, right now I’ve more important priorities than updating this page. To my loyal readers (all four? five? six of you), I’ve something of a mammoth entry (two, actually) that’s been ruminating in my mind for a few days. I promise that, once the sinister stress creature of reality spits me back up, I’ll update with what I hope is some thought-provoking philosophical bantering and, if you’re good, some math problems.

Yeah. Math problems.

To keep you out of trouble until I get back, I encourage you to… hmmm. Wait. Never mind. Go cause trouble. And, should anyone decide to steal my car, please wait until I’ve loaded it up with all of the marking I’m currently bogged down in, and do me the courtesy of returning it (the car, of course) intact shortly thereafter, sans papers.

(tumbleweed) Been mighty quiet ’round these parts, pardner. (/tumbleweed)

You did. It was called Easter and you loved it.

Therefore, I blow the raspberry of shameless indolence your way. Pttttbt.

…work-related obligations. Hope to crawl out of hole soon…

Love, your link is broken.

This means you can be taken several ways by those not in the know about the log lady, some of which are gutter minded and/or scatological. None, I’m sure, are the intended effect…

UPDATE: Link fixed, pointing to different picture. Previous server targeted must not have allowed for direct image linking. Argh.

I’ve been mistaken for the log lady. I don’t know whether to be flattered or frightened. Regardless, I am pleased to have flabbergasted. :)

Watching empires burn…