I Can Deflect Staples
by Scott Hardie on August 16, 2006

Should you call your day a complete wash if your greatest creative achievement was paper fastener nunchucks?
Six Replies to I Can Deflect Staples
Lori Lancaster | August 16, 2006
[hidden by author request]
Amy Austin | August 17, 2006
...cover it up with some kind of material...

Kris Weberg | August 19, 2006
Hell, Scott, most days I don't even reach the paper-fastener nunchuk level of achievement.
E. M. | August 28, 2006
[hidden by author request]
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

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You were so still in your bed when I could finally sit down beside you, a few hours after the facility notified me that you had died. I hadn't seen you be that peaceful in years, your eyes not scanning the room for clues, your hands not turning over each object in front of you for endlessly repeated examination. I whispered to you the most urgent and most precious things I had to say, the secrets and atonements and wishes foremost on my mind. Go »
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If you haven't heard, VeggieTales is coming to NBC. Without reference to God. And the creator feels duped. Go »
Home Computing
Any time I get frustrated with how slow my computer seems these days, I just remember that it could be worse. Thanks, Marlon. Go »
When Anxieties Attack
It feels weird to write about a fairly minor health incident in my life after someone else on this site just went through a major crisis. But people have been asking since Kelly's cryptic Facebook comment on Tuesday morning and I guess I should explain. I had been working every night last week on a project for work and getting a couple of hours of sleep each night, which turned into an all-weekend thing, and the avalanche of tasks didn't stop when the site launched early Monday morning. Go »

Scott Hardie | August 16, 2006
I just found a use for them: Cat toy. She's been eager to play with anything and everything since her favorite toy, a colored strip of cloth on a stick, was destroyed a few weeks ago. One second I was flinging the toy at her and flinging it back over my shoulder, and the next it was yanked out of my hands and shredded pieces of it flew all over the room. Those ceiling fans are dangerous.