Thanks Evgeni: Cat Music.


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 »

That's All I Have to Say About That

Remember those somber anti-piracy messages before theatrical movies a couple of years ago? Like the near-weepy set painter whose wife and kids were going to live in the poorhouse if you illegally downloaded The Big Chill? They must have had an effect on me, because instead of sadness or sympathy, they were all I could think about when I read that the make-up artist for Forrest Gump killed herself and her husband. Go »

Cold Turkey

Last night, we visited friends to celebrate "orphans Thanksgiving," for those of us who don't travel north to see our families. My family lives right here in Sarasota and we already had a nice holiday dinner on the beach (mmm grouper), but I wasn't about to miss a gathering with friends. The food was good and the company was great, but what I didn't expect was the cold, or I'd have put on more than a t-shirt and light slacks. Go »

Nooooooooooodge

You know what would be nice? If Google, one of the most web-savvy companies in existence, could manage to remember my goddamn user settings for more than 48 hours. I'm getting really sick of discovering them reset to defaults and having to change them all over again. Go »

Obama Criticizes Obama Over Rising Gas Prices

I was going to share this fake news article that I drafted in a chat with friends...Stopped at a DC-area gas station to fill up his motorcade, President Obama groaned as he watched the numbers climbing ever higher on the pump. "God, why don't I get off my ass and do something about the price of gas?" Go »

Veterans

Thank you. You deserve to hear those two words much more than you do. You may not agree with my vote last week, but I'm grateful for the sacrifices you made that let me cast it. Go »

Crash

There are some dangerous intersections in our neighborhood, where trucks come barreling through after the light turns red. This morning, Kelly and I were waiting at the light when she dropped her sunglasses. "Fuck beans," she muttered, unbuckling her seat belt and leaning forward just as the light turned green. Go »