Network

I actually have a Saturday night off. I never get Saturday night off. I guess that means I get to enjoy the night life instead of being the night life everyone enjoys. Anyone up for dancing and drinking?

There are no aliens.

Period.

My apartment hasn't had just me in it in I don't know how long, but at least I'm back at work now. I've been so busy catching up with everything this week I haven't had a chance to read the net, let alone post to it. Not that I usually do. I'm babbling

[Private to Spock]
While I was away from work I started work on that database of the Klingon language. It's almost a complete collection of the language. I want to add a few more rules and the pronunciation guide, but I should be done by this weekend if you still want to take a look.

I think I need a hobby of some sort. Preferably of the stress-reducing kind.

Otherwise, I think I may actually end up throwing one of my students out a window next year.

Right. Valar net, is it? I'd like to take this moment to announce that I think the vast majority of the internet is a fat load of cack and a festering vile pit of cyber-crime and hacking, and balding wrinkly old men trying to get into little girls' knickers while typing out convenient meeting places, one-handedly. The whole thing can go up in flames so that I can light a cigarette off it, and feel the burn of sheer pleasure racing through my lungs.

Except for the legitimate pornography. We can keep that. It can be preserved for posterity. Like fine art.

Now that I'm apparently stuck here close by Disneyland, which we all know was founded by a probable Jew hater and is quite literally my idea of hell on earth? Please, drooling worshipers of your monitor screens, be so kind as to give me pointers to where I can go to get absolutely tanked out of my bloody mind. Pubs. I need pubs. Because I've gone fourty minutes without something alcoholic being filtered through my liver. That is thirty minutes too long.

I might not survive.

It'd figure I'm spending another Saturday night at home watching Netflix. I've got to get out more. Maybe at least get acquainted with the local sports teams.

Best pubs to catch a game, anyone?

"Love isn't finding a perfect person. It's seeing an imperfect person perfectly." - Sam Keen

I'll be late coming home! I'll be working late!

I suppose I should start dating. Are there any good spots to go to?

I love Vegas!

I told a lie today and it stuck. I think I can officially say this is the best day ever.

Anyone ever feel irrationally hurt over something really, really stupid? I adore computer programming. Its one of the few things that make me feel completely natural and normal. I don't get to do it enough and there's this project I really really enjoy but I feel like I'm not needed anymore.

The contractor who had hired me injured his back. For legal reasons, I'm not allowed to go into details. But suffice to say, I'm out of work at the moment. If anyone needs anything done and is looking for a handyman, you can reach me here.

So uhm. I apparently own a bar now. A certain someone decided he wanted to travel.

There will be redecorating!

And renaming. I'm thinking The Green Maid.

I'm so screwed.

This is a pretty interesting network, but the amount of information some of you leave open to the public is disturbing. What you put on the internet is forever. Even if you delete it there are ways to recover it. I'm looking at you littlegreengirl and those topless photos.

Its not even that hard to trace your physical location at the time of posting. There's even an app out there that can collate that information into a visual map. It doesn't even have to be a clever creep to stalk you and use information gleaned from what you post against you. You'll have to meet me in person to get my real name.

( A warning beneath the cut )

http://t.co/bKLuGhkw

Enjoy!

Birthday crises averted. Thank you for not doing anything. It's a stupid day. I hate that it falls on April Fool's. It's like the world has it out for me or something.

Hey, I need to talk to you about something. I had a really weird dream last night.

..Not the sort of dream I'm comfortable with. I mean I've had plenty of sex dreams its just who the SUBJECT of the sex dream was that is really bothersome.

Also I had body paint. That was weird.

It is a strange practice writing on a network where I do not know most of the people. At least on Facebook, I know who is reading the words I throw into the ether. Most of those people are interested in what I have to say, understand my humor, and are teachers or students. Here, I am not entirely sure of the demographics that make up the user-base and that makes it unnerving. But I must soldier on. Or quickly delete my account, I suppose.

My name is Spock. I look forward to making your acquaintances.

How do people actually live in this place? I haven't been in Orange County a year and I'm already bored. I guess that's what you get when you have Disneyland right down the street. Where is the action?

Someone at my ranch thought it was a good idea for me to sign up for this ... whatever it is. I feel like you people are all tiny people sitting inside my computer than real, actual people.

That makes me sound old.

My kids broke into my office. They played around with this thing's settings. Now I'm staring at baby colors and ducks.

I do not like baby colors and ducks.

I can't figure out how to get these %#@$ing ducks off my ... thing. Blog? It's called a blog, right? Right.

I'm grumpy and I need a drink. They're laughing at me now. Let's see how much they're laughing when I make them peel potatoes for dinner tonight.

I had a good weekend. Made a couple friends, wrecked a bar. Got dumped. Or maybe I dumped her. It was sort of a mutual thing. With flying objects and broken glass. I've had better breakups. parking_brake of all people invited me into coffee. And then we went to a bar.

Its this place called Mad Dogs and Englishmen. It looks like someone put up some wood and opened a bar inside and then vomited all over the floor, but the whiskey is top notch and the bartender has a working flintlock.

So I was having a drinking contest with this Scottish dude and losing miserably, and I had the most perfect idea.

There was this big guy. Lets call him cupcake. Well cupcake has a mean right hook. Next thing you know, parking_brake was going all Jackie Chan on everyone, warp_speed was hitting things with abandon, and there were flying midgets.

This bar..this bar is best bar.

Has hot waitresses too!