So, a certain internet company sold me some books - namely Singularity is Near (Kurzweil) and Crooked Little Vein (Warren Ellis). And then they shipped them twice. When I sent an email to them (because, being an internet company, I can’t CALL them) they responded with, “No, that’s not an error.”

So I responded with, “So, you’re not going to charge me twice, right?” A day passes.

“No, it’s not an error, Sir.” A day passes.

I know, deep in my heart, I KNOW that if I give these books away I’m going to receive a bill. How much you wanna bet?

About friggin’ time I finish this off.

OK, I lost SOME comments, but may be able to move them over. Please step up and register an account. It’s there because I want to prevent the link spam.  Expect some tweaking soon, specifically in the comments section - I’ll be adding a CAPTCHA image and Digg/Slashdot/Technorati linkage for improving my traffic.

Plus old-fashioned business cards.  With the new loglow of twisty neuron thingies.

I hate it when you have to drop a functional peice of code for the hope of better code. I like keeping what works. The problem I’ve discovered is that Nucleus doesn’t work without a LOT of elbow grease, and frankly, I want to spend my time coding a game rather than a blog.

So, I’m moving to Wordpress. My friend over at Unscriptured.com (not ready yet, but soon) is working with Wordpress so it will be good to compare notes.

So, later this week: Heresy.com will be down and then come back up, prolly look exactly the same, just on Wordpress. Pretty sad, huh?

Four days in a row. Four of them. First I ruin my friends’ plans by getting sick and then I miss some work. All in all, I’m sick of sickness. I’ve been sick too many times this year, and due to recent sickness, missed a doctor’s appointment.

When I’m sick, I barricade myself with my DVDs and read books that I’ve . The problem is that I’ve seen all my DVDs, so I turn to the internet - which doesn’t download TV shows fast enough. I don’t download movies for the same reason I don’t download games: someone should get paid for their work.

I hate being sick.

And whining… so I’m going back to my drugs and will stop whining.

Recently, I’ve had to go to the Doctor.

Every doctor I’ve been to before has actually sat down, talked with me, gotten to know me and, at least, APPEARED TO CARE.

In the office, the staff has appeared to care. The Doctor, I’ve never seen. The Physician’s Assistant, who I have seen, has been downright… well, here’s a quote, “I’ve an appointment at (time) so I can’t take all day with you.” - Note that I wasn’t even 15 minutes into the discussion.

So, the first time I went (for my physical), I felt that they were rushed and busy. The second time, I was an inconvenience. And, because I wonder, I’ve been going over both meetings and wondering, what did *I* do wrong.

Well, FUCK THEM. I’m the patient and I’d like them to take some time to answer my questions and explain to me.

“Last words before I can spark it?”

“Do I *LOOK* mortal to you?”

OK, it’s not for EVERYONE. But this is the type of silliness that network TV desparately needs.

And SciFi channel is trying get our feedback on it. So, go! Go! GO! Watch the video, chuckle at the craziness. And don’t think too much about the zombie dog and Abe Lincoln… it’s a little weird.

Amazing Screw On Head… brought to you by SciFi.

For those that don’t know, I recently purchased a nice truck. I love my truck. 2003 Nissan Frontier, bright blue.

And I was rear-ended yesterday. Yep. So, on the freeway during the freeway high time. I’m slowing down because why? Hey, the cars in front of me WE’REN’T moving! Why didn’t she? Could it be because she’s a stupid 16 year old, not paying for her new car, and talking on her cell phone? I remember her tiny mouth turning into the shape of an “O” in my rear view mirror and her cell phone dropping from her ear.

When we pull over, she runs to my door, white dress, blonde hair. “I’m sorry. I barely hit you… ” the litany of excuses start… and I see the fear on her unblemished face. Decent looking young woman. “Let’s exchange driver’s license, registration and insurance…”

The litany stops.

“Do we have to?” Her eyes roll up to mine, the doubt coming to a head.

“You don’t have insurance?”

“Oh, yeah,” seemingly relieved.

“You don’t have a license?”

“No, but…” another litany of excuses begins.

She heaves in an obvious and amateur way that I know she’ll perfect in about 5 years, pouts a bit as only someone who thinks manipulation is a good model of communication, and moves her chest in some way that makes me notice. Looking up with her blue eyes, she asks, “Is there any way I can talk you out of calling the cops?”

I smiled inwardly. Somewhere in the background of my mind, I heard a shikka-shikka-bowwaaam of a base guitar riff. The Porn… it writes itself.

–

No, I did NOT take advantage of young stupid girl. Yes, I and my truck is fine. No, I did NOT call the cops tho every fiber in my being told me I should have.