Art Attack Central

Fixing stuff, myself included…

Where the hell have you been?

Well, it’s a long story, but to make a long story short, I’ve been in another world.


Okay, I’ll be a little bit more specific. For one thing, I finally graduated from Loyola. Actually, I received my degree in the mail in October of 2002; so this was the walk down the isle part of it. The ceremony itself was long, and foot dogging; however, I had a big party that night which was great fun.

What else?

I’m working on designing/redesigning three web sites. One is a Baltimore City Councilmember election site. The second is an Annapolis garden/patio company, and the third is for a watch company in Denver.

“Designated driver, on the information highway.”

Tuesday Too

Tuesday Too

1.) Are you trying out, or do you know anything about these new blogger [thingies]?

To tell the truth, I just found out about them today, but I do know the Dano platform has some new template tags.

2.) Have you tried other weblog systems that you would suggest that blogger folks switch to?

I really wanted to switch to Movable Type, but there’s some requirement other than PHP that my host server doesn’t provide.

3.) Lately it’s been reported there is so much spam filling the inboxs that people are going to stop using email. On average how much junk email do you get every day? Is it so much that you would consider giving up email? You could make up a funny sentence or two just using the email subject lines, if you’re really feeling creative today.

On average I receive 20 junk emails a day. It’s quite irritating, but no so irritating that I would give up email. I can’t give it up really, because my Art Attack Central email is essential to my business presence on the web.

Funny Email

“Dreams DO come true,” “I love working with you.” Even though “you’ve had trouble in bed,” in “five minutes a day, I give you what you want.”

Post your URL in the comment.

“Technological progress has merely provided us with more efficient means for going backwards.”

–Aldous Huxley

“Designated driver, on the information highway.”


Smokin what?

Never mind that’s none of your business.

But, it is my business; after all, I’m you.

Oh yeah, I forgot that for a minute. Alright then smokin grass, mary jane, pot, herb or whatever you want to call it.

You shouldn’t write about that here!

Why not?

I’m supposed to be the one asking the questions.

So, there’s no law about me not asking questions.

But, if we’re both asking questions who’s going to answer them?

The Ouija board.

I don’t believe in that sort of thing.

Why not?

Because it’s ridiculous?

*Hmmph*, for someone with a questioning nature I’d say that’s a bit narrow. Wouldn’t you?

I’m proud of the fact that I’m a skeptic.

Yeah but, have you ever tried a Ouija board?

Isn’t it kind of confusing when we’re both asking questions

What? You mean here, or on the Ouija board?

Does it matter?

I suppose not.

See, that’s what I mean. What kind of sloppy answer is that? Suppose?

“Designated driver, on the information highway.”

Thrift Stores

That’s the agenda for today; we’ll be joy riding around to several thrift stores in the area. The real joy of it is going with nothing in particular to search for, and coming upon unanticipated treasures. Yes I know rumor has it that all “the good stuff” has been snapped up, and you’re better off just cruising Ebay, but it’s not true. Yesterday Abbott and I found 2 pairs of pants, two shirts for him, 1 pair of shoes, and jeans for me, plus socks for both of us for a grand total of $18.00. In truth I do have something in mind today that I’m looking for. I no longer have a decent music system in my house, because the last time those bastards broke in they stole it.

What bastards?

If I knew that, they wouldn’t still be walking around. On the bright side, no one has broken in for over a year. As I recall, the record is 3 years without a break in. Someday I would like to be in my house wearing the mask from The Mask when they break in. A giant cartoon hammer would repeatedly crash the floor all around them; they would run screaming from the house, and turn themselves into the police for their own protection.

“Designated driver, on the information highway.”