All shall know this and despair!

Listen, I probably don't know much about your dwelling. I don't know how it's laid out or anything like that. I don't know how many framed Mariah Carey posters litter its spaces. I don't know if it has periwinkle wallpaper with tapioca accents and an Art Nuveau chandelier that looks like someone's insides. But I know one thing; I know there is one room in that heap of a slum you call an apartment that is warmer than all the others. It may be the kitchen or the laundry room. It may the living room or, if you're lucky, the bedroom.

In the midwest, this sort of thing matters.

In my house (insert WHOSE HOUSE RON'S HOUSE ROBOT HOUSE exclamation of your choosing) the warmest room in the entire place is the small downstairs 1/2 bathroom-- A room about 3.5 feet deep and 6 feet long.

The Little Old Lady Who Lived In A Shoe lived in a shoe that was bigger than this one room.

Other noteable specs for this room might include the following:
It is 9 feet from the living room television.
It is 6 feet from the phone.
It is 10 feet from a computer with internet.
It is 7 feet from the pantry.
It is, ironically, 4.5 feet from the refrigerator.
It is 5 diagonal feet from the furnace.

As you can see, this room is roughly equidistant from the hottest and the coldest places in the house. It is the hottest place in the house outside of the furnace. Outside of the refrigerator, the coldest place in the house is the sub-arctic ice-hole that is my bedroom...

You can probably guess where this is going...

I am typing this from the downstairs one-half bathroom (henceforth dubbed "Ohio") on a laptop computer.

I do this in Ohio because I enjoy looking at the AccuWeather plug-in at the bottom of my screen and being able to differentiate between the temperature displayed for Washtenaw County and the temperature a thermometer would read if you shoved it up my ass.

To such ends, I've been spending a lot of time in Ohio.

Ohio is now where I read.

Ohio is now where I contemplate the universe.

Ohio is now where I plot the downfall of my enemies.

Ohio is now where I talk to you on the phone.

Ohio is now where I sometimes blog.

And best of all, Ohio is where I do NOT huddle in a shivering mass, watching my frostbitten fingertips crack against the keyboard as I pray for the icy song of hypothermia to finally lull me into oblivion-- which is typically what happens when I spend more than 30 minutes sitting in my room.

How many Flickrs does it take to get to the center of the internet?

For anyone interested, I will be giving the flickr thing a whirl. If it sticks there will be lots of strange images for you to scope.

2003 Lo-Fi goodness will lead us off.

Personally, I love stuff like this. I am a voracious consumer of imagery and digital media has allowed me to essentially turn many vast acres of hard-drive space into a voluminous library of pretty pictures.

I figure maybe it's time I start contributing to someone else's library.

.

The Greatest of the Latest, Part 2: NI-AY-GAH-RAY!

A few weeks back Heather and I went to The Commonwealth for some ice wine and decent Mexican food (whodathunkit?) along the Niagara Escarpment. Oh yeah, and waterfalls.

It's a story best told through interpretive dance, but photographs will have to do.

O CANADA, why is your flag so cute?


Welcome to bat country.


Canadian buildings really are erected at such jaunty angles.


American girl in front of American stuff.

Canadian stuff.



No thank you.


Mordor.


Doom.


Yup. Under the falls. In a tunnel. ...Doomed but cheery.


Impending shmuckery.


I want me that merman helmet.


Me being a jerk.


The reach around.


OK, I'm impressed.


Grumpy water.


This was my first pedestrian international border crossing.
The plaque actually demands that you solve 3 riddles in order to pass from one country to the other, lest it drop you through a trap door. Also, it has a French accent.
It's all very obnoxious.


Thunder Mountain.




Freak out.

Attack of the Whatever-the-Eff-Those-Things-Are-that-I-Draw,,,

With resumed blogging comes resumed self-promotion.

DO IT! BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!



...please?

The Scannables: Display #1

Here is the first round of scannables dredged up from the far depths of my room within the last couple weeks.

1.)

I think it's near Mason.

2.)

This one is of me Pa (The Captain). I think it might be his senior picture.
I forget why I have it.

3.)

This is obviously The Funken cyclo-P-dia. I believe it is the insert to a Parliament CD. As 17 year olds Luke and I were inordinately thrilled about it... Y'know, back when we were funky. This is actually a scan of a photocopy made at the Saline High School Library. Click and read.

4.)

We thought we were cool but it turns out we were actually in high school.
I still live one mile from Logan.

5.)

Actin' a fool in the 1109 East University Living Room.

6.)

This image (of a bridge) was taken with a pin-hole camera in Savannah Georgia, 2001.
And by pin-hole camera I mean film canister with a hole poked in it and a 2x3in wad of photo paper jammed inside.

7.)

A letter from The Carazy, back when I used to get heroic epithets or 3 new (typically Russian) middle names. I was serious when I said that I still have nearly all the letters sent to me over the past 15 years. Your letter did not get posted because you failed to address me as The Unbreakable Brian Walline. :)

8.)

My chariot of fire, circa 1999.

9.)

I took it in 2003, but I don't know why. I was still using film apparently.

10.)

Behbeh!

More to come.