The Headphone Jack Is Not The Same As The Microphone Jack.

Yeah, basically I had my music up really loud on my speakers, in a public place, and I thought the music was still coming in through my goofy green headphones, it was just really quiet. Wrong again Michael. You honorably recieve the stupid award. And by honorably, I meant shamefully. With the exact same shame of farting really loud when having dinner with your wife's/girlfriend's/fiancee's/significant something or another's parents. I don't have any experience in that sort of situation, but I could only imagine. And ladies, it's not that I've been a lonely young man all these years, never to experience the goofiness that is "love", its just, I've never farted in front of ANYONE'S parents. To my recollection. Just because I have action figures on my bookshelf and small collection of comic books underneath my bed DOES NOT mean I'm some creepy nerdy guy. I'm like a Don Quioxte.

"Don Juan"

"Who?"

"Don Juan. He's the ladies man. Don Quioxte was just some psycho Spaniard"

"Oh. Yeah."

"Windmills"

"Right. Windmills."

Actually, you know what? Yeah, I'm the creepy nerdy guy. So...just leave me to my Super Nintendo games. Okay?

Well, here I am, at Bread Co. on Watson. Again. Sans the 30-year-old woman. Maybe she got my note.

I'm here because the laptop's wireless capabilities are having marital issues with the router at our house. For what reason I do not know. Desktop in my room is also having difficulties connecting. Maybe its a love triangle. I thought computers in wireless networks had to be Mormon. And my father has declared martial law. There is a yellow Post-it on the monitor of our front room/dining area computer that reads, "DO NOT mess with this computer!" I think it has something to do with me turning it off yesterday. So if you ever think that you can just go all willy nilly and shut off a computer, you better think twice. The next time you turn off that computer, you could destroy everything in that magic box and really piss some people off. No more internet, or Microsoft Word, or solitaire. Or Mine Sweeper! God have mercy on our souls on the day when the human race loses the only free computer game that has become dear to them.

Anyway, so that's why I'm here. And I've noticed one out of every one person brings a laptop. The 2010 coffee shop is a beatnik cyberpunk world. We're all here to drink coffee and blog!

'Hey everybody! We're having a blog party!"

"...."

Okay. Maybe some other time.

There's really not a whole lot to mention. Yesterday I was going to scoop out some chicken salad from a Tupperware bowl and instead I chased the cat with the spoon raised in the air yelling. Like a savage. Which was similar to the kid who was running around on the hill behind my house with a stick. Those were the good old days. I don't know about the rest of you, but as an only child, there was a lot of chasing imaginary things with a stick. Or a pop gun. I remember right after we moved into the house we're living in now, I got this pop gun rifle. It had this lever underneath the trigger to cock the gun and then when you pulled the trigger it would make a loud pop sound. It was great. Somedays I would grab some beef jerky and run around in the yard with the beef jerky and the rifle and pretend I was roaming the frontier and the jerky was my only means of survival.

My point is, that part of my life was awesome. And seeing that kid running around enjoying his life reminded me of my own youth. I remember after Jurassic Park came out, I would run around in the backyard of our old house in Louisville (which was much, much larger than the yard we have now) with a Nerf bow and arrow and shoot dinosaurs. My life was pretty cool. I would much rather worry about defending my home from a very unexpected dinosaur invasion than say, hunt for a job. But hey, C'est la vie.

I think my real point of all this is, I was envious of that kid. I wanted the best for him. I wanted him to fully enjoy life. But, I also wanted to run around like a lunatic, and throw sticks at bushes as if I were throwing hand grenades at stationary, square-like robots. Problem with me doing that is, I would look like a lunatic. At least the kid looks fairly sane, running around alone, defending our neighborhood from who knows what. Thanks kid.

I only hope to have kids of my own to do that with. My only excuse. But they'll grow up too. And on goes the course.

Yeah. That's pretty much it. I'm going to get some more coffee.