>old entries

sometimes I post links i like here. sometimes i don't.  



>plain cool :

>current physical location: Amsterdam

I am sitting at home waiting for Kate to arrive. She's coming over from Edinburgh so that we can fly together to New York - so there will still be silence here.
Shots.net is down again. A shame since they apparently have an article about the truth in advertising film that I want to read....

Saturday, October 14, 2000   02:15 p.m.
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Going with work to unknown destination. Will be back on Sunday. :) Hence the silence...

Thursday, October 5, 2000   10:07 a.m.
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I surf so impatiently.

Monday, October 2, 2000   07:52 a.m.
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I'm so behind - I only now found the doggieblog!

Sunday, October 1, 2000   07:55 p.m.
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Shebelle is my name - according to the african name generator. Whats yours?

Sunday, October 1, 2000   07:51 p.m.
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Sex Sells apparently. Do note that Kottke's simple palm parody is mentoned in the article. Cool.

Sunday, October 1, 2000   07:15 p.m.
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I'm tinkering on my puter (what else is new) when I hear strange songs being sung, so close to me that for a second I belive it's from within my own house.
It's not, as I go to locate the sound I realise it's coming from right outside my front door. Someone is sitting there, carrying on strange conversations with himself, singing, and releasing phlegm voraciously and loudly.
I worry for a while, I'm home alone and judging by the noise only , this could be a druguser/homeless guy sitting on my stoop, and some of them are a little too nuts to not be labeles dangerous. Also, if he is leaning against my door - which it sounded like he was - he'd fall into my house when I open it as I live in the basement. Call me strange - but I only want people I invited in my house.
I fret for a bit, and then decide that I'm too paranoid and should just look to see what it going on out there. I wait for a break in the phlegm-spitting routine and then open my door.
Suprise - on the stairs is a young man, cleanshaven, blond, dressed in jeans and with a bag. He looks at me and says "Hoi" as he gets up to leave. I reply a stunned Hoi before I close my door quietly.
Ten minutes later I need to go out, and when I open my door I find that someone (guess who) has urinated on my stoop, trying to make the puddle reach the crack under my door where my indoor carpeting sticks out. He'd either run out of bodily fluid or nerve because the puddle didn't reach very far. Thanks dude.

Sunday, October 1, 2000   07:03 p.m.
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