MisterNihil.com
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27.12.02Just because I think this is powerful silly (and I got it emailed to my work address): The One Ring. Here I quote from the page: "The best-selling One Ring™ on the net!" Um. Glurg. Posted at 8:21 AM - - - - - - - 26.12.02Taking off early tomorrow to be wit my Toshi. Life is good. So there. Posted at 11:27 PM - - - - - - - 24.12.02Tha store is busy. I hate people. I need a break. Posted at 2:00 PM - - - - - - - 19.12.02But we're all secret ninja posters here. That's what makes us unique. Posted at 4:03 PM [The secret ninja poster says: Take a lesson from the Invisible Citizens. Celebrate the whole month! Woo! Happy birthday, little blog.] Posted at 11:52 AM - - - - - - - 17.12.02OK, looking back, I know I got the info that could have enabled me to post as early as about Christmas, 'cause we met up hastily at an out of the way Denny's with the invisible citizens like a forbidden office romance, or a drug deal (they handed over the nondescript envelope, we slid a baritone Ukelele across the table, and we all four stared off into space, looking innocent), but I also know, from half a minute's research into the archives, that I didn't post here until Jan. 16. I don't know when to celebrate the anniversary. You don't have your birthday to celebrate the first time you actually did something human, you celebrate it for when you came into being, but this page might've been up as early as a year ago tomorrow, if you think about it that way. Whatever. Point is, I get to decide when the page's birthday is, and I'm probably gonna choose a more convenient time than randomly on a Wednesday. Posted at 4:32 PM OK, smartypants, riddle me this: At work, when I wear my sneakers/tennis shoes/crosstrainers/whatever, I get shocked whenever I touch a metal object. Corners are the worst. I can, quite literally, touch a metal surface and be shocked, then walk two feet to the next metal surface, and be shocked again. They range from little cracklings to visible sparks. If I take off my shoes and walk around in socks, I don't get shocked. I can walk without lifting my feet off the ground, sit at my desk chuffing my feet on the carpet, and I never actually get shocked. I think I discharge the sparks in small enough doses I don't notice. I'm constantly grounded, so the discharge doesn't make sparks, that's my theory on it. When I wear my Doc Martin's shoes, I also don't get shocked. I knew they were supposed to be (according to the sole of the shoe) oil, fat, acid, petrol and alkali resistant, bu they also ground you out so you don't get shocked by static electricity? Can this be true? What do you smartypantses think? Posted at 4:20 PM - - - - - - - 16.12.02Dear Lacks Furniture, Thank you so very much for your ad cleverly disguised as a christmas card. This was especially effective, as I had just come from a lovely experience having my couch fixed, and was reminded that afternoon of how much I like the furniture store I usually go to (approximately once per year, more or less). However, I feel that the ad might have had more success as fake sincerity had the address not included the phrase "OR CURRENT RESIDENT" after my name. Sincerely, and I really Mean it, -MisterNihil OR OTHER BOZO Posted at 3:48 PM Not at work, prolly, but hee hee. Posted at 3:45 PM - - - - - - - 13.12.02We Are the Exclusive Sellers in Texas. It would Surprise the Hell Outa Me if We Were the Exclusive Sellers, Even Just In Austin. Two books, two stories. Silliness abounds. Posted at 1:49 PM It's gettin' rapidly to be Misternihil.com's Birthday. If ya look at the archives, it'll be the 18th. If not, It'll be more like Christmas. KEEN! And to celebrate, we're goin' ta dinner on New Years Day. OK, not really to celebrate that particular thing, but I'll pretend. Posted at 8:55 AM - - - - - - - 12.12.02Just for Grins:  Natosha as Starry Night Posted at 10:44 PM  Hee hee. Posted at 7:05 PM (In a fake French accent:) My love of Tomatos is so deep, I cannot express it in words. Posted at 11:56 AM - - - - - - - 10.12.02MISTERNIHIL-DOT-COM GIVES YOU CASH* *misternihil.com is a source of time wasting at work, which will allow you to spend time being paid for not working, which might add to your cash flow. Misternihil.com does not provide actual currency. Thank you Powerade. Posted at 10:13 AM - - - - - - - 6.12.02Silliness at Work And Poetry from an Amp Guy. So, yeah. Posted at 3:15 PM - - - - - - - 5.12.02If you plant that, it'll eventually grow into a real story. Posted at 4:14 PM He turned to the small dog sitting in front of the door. It looked at him, then put its head down. In his head, he'd named it Spot, because that was what you named boring dogs with no personality. He bought the house in September, and they said nothing about the dog. He asked the realtor, who said she knew nothing about a dog, and hung up the phone quickly and sharply before giving him a chance to respond. When he called back, the phone rang and rang, and never picked up. He went to town hall and searched out the names of the former owners, and tracked them down. The conversation: Him: Hello. My name is- Her: We don't want any. (conversation ends) (he called back a few minutes later) Him: I'm not selling anything, my name is- Her: I don't care what your name is. You people stop harrassing me. I don't know what happened to him, and I don't want to buy insurance, and I don't want to sell my story to be a crappy movie of the week starring Alan Alda and Talia Shire. Leave me alone, you vulture. (conversation ends a second time.) He didn't call her back. He knew what would happen. He had no clue why, and wasn't really interested in finding out why, so he went back to his life. He fed the dog, went to work, came home, fed the dog and went to bed. The Dog. Spot. It was friendly, to the point of allowing itself to be petted. It never stood up, and never seemed to need to go out. He didn't ask questions. Once, He tried to pick it up and it bit him, so he left it alone. And now the dog was part of his life. It wasn't particularly cute, and did no tricks. It didn't bark at night, and paid no attention to strangers, visitors or guests. He had to point the dog out to them most times, as they tended to overlook it. It wasn't like having a real dog at all. Posted at 4:12 PM I'm now officially sick of Christmas. Christmas ads, anyway. Posted at 3:57 PM I'm getting that feeling, where I'm, like, mediavorous and must expunge. I liked this book. I saw this last night, and it was one of those rare movies that's worth the time to watch it. I'm on book 6 of these. His self-bashing attitude turned me off to the books for a long time, and I still have problems getting by it. They books aren't all bad, though. I'm workin' on it, I'm workin' on it. This book doesn't help much. His big secret is (hold on for this one) write ten pages a day. It's that simple. Sure! I mean, who doesn't do that already. Yeesh. One day, I'll finish this. Prolly. Don't look at me like that. I mean it, seriously. OK. I feel better. Oh, yeah, and I wrote one of these today. It wasn't great, but it's a start toward getting back into it. Posted at 2:32 PM OK, so part one, goddamn he's old. Part two, scroll down on that story for a loving recap of his ugly, racist career, particularly this paragraph, which I quote directly: "In 1956, as a senator, he was an originator of the "Southern Manifesto" urging defiance of the 1954 Supreme Court desegregation ruling and in 1957 Thurmond talked against a civil rights bill on the Senate floor for more than 24 hours, the longest filibuster in Senate history." They say that like those are good things. Posted at 2:18 PM Once, I had an idea. I forgot now. Posted at 1:52 PM Remember when this was what you needed a PC for? No, no, before widespread porn. Remember when it was just supposed to be an oversized recipe box? Yeah. Me neither. Posted at 12:45 PM - - - - - - - 2.12.02Today I free myself from Southwestern Bell telephone. I'm on hold right now, and have been for close to half-an-hour. Soon, though. If they didn't feel the need to find out, via their automated menu, that I wanted to turn off my service, I wouldn't feel so ticked off that they put me on hold for fifteen minutes then hung up on me earlier. Because they did, it just makes me think they are being obtuse on purpose. Oh, but wait, they are. Posted at 12:20 PM - - - - - - - | All material copyright 2002-2003 Ben Gibbs. | |||||||||
