Problem Solver.

KIDZOOKIE: Will you help me learn to be a detective so I can be one when I grow up?

TACO: Sure. Next time I take a crap, you can practice by trying to detect what I had for lunch.

KIDZOOKIE: Okay, first? You're disgusting.

The Brokeback Opry

I want to write a gay country and western ballad called "You Made My Brown Eye Blue."

Nearsighted? Get some hindsight.

fett mentioned reading through my old posts today. That intrigued me, so I went back to my very first blog post and worked my way forward.

It was an interesting read, largely, I think, because enough time has passed that I'd completely forgotten the majority of them. So I had no emotional ties to them, and being thus completely detached from them, I reacted more honestly than my usual immediate self-loathing.

I read the kids a lot of the ones that are about them, and we laughed.

Then I got to the ones from about a year ago, when I found my new job, handed in my notice, and then finally started the new job.

I've been frustrated with it lately, because we're introducing a lot of new development practices and such, and it's a tough row to hoe. Getting people to ditch failing dev processes and get on board with things that are more work (but actually, you know, work) is hard... uh... work. And maddening at times.

But rereading those old posts reminded me: I fucking love my new job.

Thanks, fett. Your intervention was timely.

Story Time with Taco

Error: Server is Stubborn

Got her.

SPIKE: [NARRATING THE SCENE BELOW HIM] Say no more. Evil's still afoot. And I'm almost out of that nancy-boy hair-gel I like so much. Quickly, to the Angel-mobile, away!

WIFEZILLA: Oh yeah, like Spike's hair isn't all hair-gelled.

TACO: I knew you were paying attention!

WIFEZILLA: Was not!

The Checkered Flag

WIFEZILLA: And then you do this when you finish.

TACO: ...

WIFEZILLA: Are you watching?

TACO: ...

WIFEZILLA: Watch.

TACO: ...

WIFEZILLA: [mimes]

TACO: We're never having sex again.

WIFEZILLA: Oh, come on. I bet I look funny, too.

TACO: I should've given being gay a chance.

WIFEZILLA: What the hell would that solve?

TACO: Better sexual mechanics. Gay guys wouldn't be able see what ridiculous faces I make when I cross the finish line.

Someone should invent antilock brakes for mouths.

WIFEZILLA: [sigh]

TACO: What?

WIFEZILLA: All the women at your office are so thin and pretty. I don't like it.

TACO: Well, they're a lot younger than we are.

TACO: Can I pretend I didn't say that out loud?

WIFEZILLA: Go ahead. That's what I'm doing.