(link) Thanks, John.


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 »

Gigantism

Thanks to a friend who couldn't use them, I scored They Might Be Giants tickets to replace the broken Valentines gift that I originally bought for Kelly. We took in the show last night with two other friends who happened to be going, Nathan and Raquel, and it was a great time. Most of my concerts have been metal, so I'm used to screaming and head-banging, and I didn't exactly know how to get into the music, especially since I was the least familiar with the TMBG catalog. Go »

Moved In

We are moved in and settled, or as settled as we can be with little money and way too much stuff for a two-bedroom apartment. The final move will come in April when we transfer to a house. We have our eye on a house in Ruskin, 30 minutes from here – four bedrooms, two-car garage, cable included, never lived in, all for $50 less a month than I pay now. Go »

Only in the Web Era

Victim's cell phone is stolen on subway. Thief takes photos of his own wife, family, dog, and home. Cell phone automatically uploads them to victim's Flickr account. Go »

Summer of Suck II

Science says that complaining is bad for you, but sometimes it helps me feel better, so I'm going to do it anyway. It's my blog and I can cry if I want to. Summer has arrived and I'm miserable. Go »

Survivor Guilty

As a longtime Survivor viewer, I've been bothered by its slow decline. Some of the show's problems are apparent on its surface, like Jeff Probst's appalling gender bias and the show's overemphasis on tacky "themes" for the season. But I got to thinking about what's wrong under the surface, on a conceptual level. Go »

R.I.P. Mom

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 »