Or, in my case, The Man Who Was Thirsty. I'm busy doing stuff and junk. Hmm. I never realized I had a GoodReads page. I don't get out enough, I guess.
I'm tired of writing achingly brilliant things that nobody reads, so I decided to post mildly interesting things, because reasons. Intertunnel reasons. The Intertunnel is like the telephone game except everyone's hard of hearing and has Tourette's Syndrome. Me, I try to stay around the edges and laugh, like a food fight in the cafeteria. Here's a list of (not entirely unwonderful) wonderful things for you to peruse. You can like any one you like, but please: No wagering.
S.Weasel has discovered the greatest website in the world if you get tired of Zombo.com. Lingscars is magnifique.
If the Internet was a rodeo clown with delirium tremens, it would be Lings Cars
I've been listening to a ten-hour version of The Girl From Ipanema
Finally some funny YouTube comments: "I liked the part about the girl from Ipanema."
Gerard's list of journalistic cliches
It insists upon itself.
Here's a series of maps of crime by state from Business Insider
Please note Maine. No one tries pulling any shite while I'm in the state.
Here's a list of all the Alt codes for pretty much every symbol you want to type.
Note: Alt codes have nothing to do with Gender Studies.
Students at McGill University can't compute the average of a few even numbers.
They're not just in college. They're in college to become teachers.
Car surrounded by deer in Eastport, Maine.
People think this is lovely, but unless I'm very wrong, the deer are hanging around people because they're starving.That's the only reason I hang around people.
This is the greatest board game ever devised. That's why you can't buy one.
Well, sorta can't. You could if you had money, but it's solitaire for us.
Execupundit.com: One of the Best Jobs in the World
My Interfriend the Execupundit has a sunny outlook on life. It's almost depressing for an Irishman to read it.
My Interfriend Thud in Liverpool builds wondrous stuff. Going Green.
I thought everything beautiful and useful was banished from the world forevermore. Thud proves me wrong by building things and having children.
Harriett reads and comments here, and I think of her as something akin to my target audience. This is the most moving tribute to an ordinary person I've ever read.