The Digital Domino

There will be no donuts this day, not for lack of trying, but I have simply run into a rather practical issue - I can't hold any. Saying I am at capacity wouldn't quite be accurate.  Based on the discomfort and the trouble I've been having disconnecting my butt from various sitting surfaces, I'd say that I have exceeded capacity. Food levels are at around 326%.  You'd think that number would slowly fall.  But no. This is a holiday. That number continues to rise.  Breakfast cinnamon roles and leftovers.  Sandwiches made from leftovers.  Leftovers cannibalized from some else's leftover leftovers.  When you're resorting to the cannibalisms, it may be time to admit to yourself that you have a problem.   Meanwhile, I need to drop a few pounds, and by a few, I mean roughly twenty pounds, seven of which is solid potato, plus an additional, say, four pounds gained yesterday (and clearly not burned off during my brief attempt to shop, which was a terrible, terrible

    Alas, today the Twinkie company died.  Hostess is now gone.   Sadly, the grieving company's best cushion was the Twinkies they so lovingly made. This makes me unendingly sad.  My children will probably never know what a Twinkie was or what it means to the world.     Today is the 16th of November. We've all spent a lot of time seeking new jobs after our own company fell, and we've all been watching the news as everything we worked for is being sliced up into little pieces for sale. I'm not happy about this. The Article: http://www.chicagotribune.com/business/breaking/chi-hostess-brands-seeks-court-permission-to-liquidate-20121116,0,3175964.story    I'm not sure what Twinkies were filled with.  I'm not sure what the cake was made from, but I implore you, do not let Twinkie die a slow death.  Let Twinkie live on, I say!  May it's foodstuffs ever be remembered in the songs of Legend!  Heavenly cream made from the very ambrosia the Gods dined on!  A s

Another week of staring at my email. Another week waffling between 'yea, I could totally be captain of a tall ship for a living' and 'I'm not qualified to be a janitor in an abandoned sewer pipe. I don't know what to do!'  That's all been fun. But, there's still the poor man's donut.  Little Debbie, bless her ageless face and stupid hat, she sits on the box of a hundred different snacks that will be here long after mankind has nuked itself into oblivion and cockroaches have started to set up crude democratic republics across our sprawling land.  Little Debbie has the aptly named donut stick.  They come in a plastic package, a window into another world - a world where donuts are FOREVER. Look at that box.  Doesn't that look delicious? A perfect cup of coffee in a perfect mug, next to a pair of donuts.  I imagine kids, in their infinite wisdom, complained about the missing bit in the middle - they wanted a whole donut.  So the company wisely c

     As the days pass by, one after the other, it becomes increasingly difficult to do basic things like wake up, shower, dress, pay bills, and maintain consciousness for more than sixty minutes at a time.   After a while, your log begins to look something like this: "Day 51 - The beer supply is dwindling and we've run out of twinkies.  Beard length has reached dangerous proportions.  Sandwiches and morale have both reached critically low levels. We may have to eat the dog."    Many of us have been there, distraught, seemingly without hope, wondering if, as time went by, you could easily determine which of your pets would be the least tough and stringy.  But lets not discuss pets. Lets talk about YOU.  What have you been doing to stay on track?  You're learning how to work in adverse environments right now.  Especially if you've EVER, even ONCE attempted to navigate the abysmal unemployment website. It truly is terrible. Mind numbingly, gut-wrenchingly terrible.