Seriously folks; new blog is http://seewhatyoudidthere.com/

Syndication is http://syndicated.livejournal.com/iswydt/ (if you wanna read it on your friends list)

I still read my flist here, so please don't remove me!

I remembered to say it; did you?

So it's official - ROFLCon is coming back.

Anyone have any ideas as to who should be brought in this time?

If anyone is interested, my new syndication feed for my new blog is http://syndicated.livejournal.com/iswydt/

As some of you may have noticed, I've let this journal fall into disrepair. This also means that I've allowed the paid account status to expire.

I'm not asking for generosity here, just a simple favor from someone with a paid account. Any chance one of you wants to syndicate this blog? It'd be rad of you. ^.^

...I remembered to say it; did you?

I don't know about you, but I'm the type of guy that can't just cook a simple omelet and call it breakfast. If I'm going to go through the trouble to do anything more than fry a sunny side up egg, I'm going all out. This generally means at least a 20-min trip to the store and back for fresh veggies, at least an hour of prep and cooking (homefries don't make themselves!), and the cooking of several meals before my own (if I'm cooking for me, I'm cooking for the lady and my roommate). This generally means that I don't cook breakfast too terribly often. Even still, sometimes I'm in the mood, and since quitting smoking, I've been in the mood a lot more. Today was one of those days.

As such, I present to you My Breakfast.

• Three-egg omelet. Three cheese (cheddar, monterey jack, and swiss), bacon, avocado, and a mixture of sautéed onions, green bell peppers, and baby portobello mushrooms.


• My world-famous cajun homefries.


• Crisp maple bacon.


• Six-grain and pumpkin seed toast with strawberry preserve.


• Orange juice, coffee, and ice water.

Om nom.

What did you eat for breakfast?

I really, really miss this thing. Well, not lj itself so to speak, but the typing, the informing, the having-the-blog thing. I'm working on starting again (have been for a while), but it's just... figuring out how I want it, what I want it to be. Will it be here? Will it be wordpress? Maybe I'll buy my own domain. Who knows. But yeah, I miss it, and I miss all of you.

Pardon the recruitment post, but I figured it was worth a shot. While we're fine with what we have at the moment (which is to say, raids occur weekly), a few more for padding never hurt anyone, especially with the summer approaching quickly. Therefore, without further ado -

-----

( Details Beyond Title/Pitch Under the Cut )

If anyone is on Twitter, set your location to Tehran and your time zone to GMT +3.30. Iranian Security forces are hunting for bloggers using location/timezone searches. The more people at this location, the more of a logjam it creates for forces trying to shut Iranians’ access to the internet down! We must help them! Cut & paste & pass it on! Go Humans!!!

I will do this, if only to assist those who refuse to have their voices hushed; I suggest anyone who supports free speech over tyranny and the right to be heard regardless of your views over suppression of the lower classes to do the same. Worst case, it's a temporary empty gesture to help make those of us living quiet, comfortable, privileged lives feel better about ourselves. Best case - we help give a voice to those who have been silenced.

Today is Day Two of not smoking. This is hard.

Wrath of the Lich King is officially live; I officially have my Collector's Edition, and I am officially on vacation for the next week. See you in Northrend. =)

I have never in my life been so proud to be an American.

Also, I never thought I'd say those words.

Maybe it is time for change.

Thank you, America.

Good night. =)

I voted; did you?

linkylinky



Discuss.

( I'm proud. )

Casual guild what? Eat that.

I just did something I never, ever do.

Let me explain.

I roll up to Prospect Liquors to grab some beer (it's my turn to buy), and this dude asks me if I can spare a smoke. Of course I can; I smoke hand-rolled; they're not so precious or so expensive as to deny, well, anyone a single. I start rolling him one, and he proclaims that of course he can roll, which is fine by me. We chatted about something random for a minute, and then as I was heading in, he asked if I could spare $2 for some vodka. I said "I'll see what I can do." I headed in, thinking about that exchange.

Now, usually, I'd just say "I can't today man, sorry" and continue on my day. I'm relatively unassuming and sociable to eccentric homeless (and this man was certainly eccentric, to say the least), and occasionally I'll spare some change if I happen to have some in a pocket, but for the most part, I just say hi, maybe a few words back and forth (because they're like, people, and thus deserve at least the recognition of that fact), and I go about my day.

For some reason, something that I can't quite figure out, I even considered it for this guy. He wasn't particularly outstanding in any respect (in relation to some of the real fun homeless I've encountered in this fine city); he was filthy, kinda weird, and totally wasted and/or out of his mind. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what about him gave me a pause at all. Regardless, once I stepped into the liquor store, I knew what I was about to do.

I got him a $2 bottle of vodka.

It was some random cheap-ass shit, the kind I've never tasted, and only knew existed because I've seen plastic half-pints of it littering downtown alleys and drainage grates. I got my beer (half case of Harpoon IPA), went to the counter, and said "I hear that one can procure half a pint of vodka for $2". The clerk, who has seen me many, many times, and in general only sees me buy decent to fantastic beer or Bombay Sapphire, gave pause. "You want to buy $2 vodka?" he asked. "That I do."

And it was done. I went outside, went over to the man, said "here you go, buddy," and handed him the bottle. He was floored. I wonder how long it's been since someone actually did that for him. We chatted for a bit; we talked about where we're from, where we've been, astrology. His name is Sully, he's 53 years old, grew up in Cambridge (his family has been here for like hundreds of years), he's been to every state in the US except for Alaska and Vermont. He's a triple Scorpio. Both his father and his grandfather smoked; his old man died young of lung cancer. He used to do smack. He was really psyched that I was born in Taunton, and that my name was Peter. He's the first person to guess my age right off the bat in I don't know how long (it's his son's age).

At some point in the conversation, he began to shed tears. No sobs, but serious tears nonetheless, just sort of seeping out his eyes, gliding down his face, unnoticed or ignored by him. I don't know what caused them, and I didn't want to bring them to his attention for fear of embarrassing him. He seemed really, really happy that this kid, this random guy, was chatting with him, spent two bucks for him, and was treating him like what he is - a human being, no better or worse than anyone else. Just a guy in a shitty situation, nevermind how he got there or why he's still there. None of that mattered to me. He was a nice guy, that's what was important, and two bucks doesn't mean shit against that, at least in that moment.

I mean, times are super tight for me right now (I've spent waaaay too much money out in the past few weeks on account of the Red Sox, my little sister's 21^st birthday is tomorrow and I'm taking her out, I still haven't paid my phone bill since September, and rent is due next Wednesday), but seriously - two dollars for me is nothing compared to what it is for him. Especially considering the fact that both he and I, with two dollars, would be using it on alcohol. Two bucks would be like, a third of a beer tonight while I watch the world series. Two bucks for him turned into half a pint of vodka, which should make him at least as happy as that beer tonight would have made me. I see it as fair enough.

As I got on my bike and started heading on my way, he said "stay safe"; I bid him the same.