Gecko Bloggle

From Ebay via Duncan…

You are bidding on a mistake.
We all make mistakes. We date the wrong people for too long. We chew gum with our mouths open. We say inappropriate things in front of grandma.
And we buy leather pants.
I can explain these pants and why they are in my possession. I bought them many, many years ago under the spell of a woman whom I believed to have taste. She suggested I try them on. I did. She said they looked good. I wanted to have a relationship of sorts with her. Im stupid and prone to impulsive decisions. I bought the pants.
The relationship, probably for better, never materialized. The girl, whose name I cant even recall, is a distant memory. I think she was short.
Ultimately the pants were placed in the closet where they have remained, unworn, for nearly a decade. I would like to emphasize that: Aside from trying these pants on, they have never, ever been worn. In public or private.
I have not worn these leather pants for the following reasons:
I am not a member of Queen.I do not like motorcycles.I am not Rod Stewart.I am not French.I do not cruise for transvestites in an expensive sports car.
These were not cheap leather pants. They are Donna Karan leather pants. Theyre for men. Brave men, I would think. Perhaps tattooed, pierced men. In fact, Ill go so far as to say you either have to be very tough, very gay, or very famous to wear these pants and get away with it.
Again, theyre mens pants, but theyd probably look great on the right lady. Ladies can get away with leather pants much more often than men can. Its a sad fact that men who own leather pants will have to come to terms with.
They are size 34×34. I am no longer size 34×34, so even were I to suddenly decide I was a famous gay biker I would not be able to wear these pants. These pants are destined for someone else. For reasons unknown – perhaps to keep my options open, in case I wanted to become a pirate – I have shuffled these unworn pants from house to house, closet to closet. Alas, it is now time to part ways so that I may use the extra room for any rhinestone-studded jeans I may purchase in the future.
These pants are in excellent condition. They were never taken on pirate expeditions. They werent worn onstage. They didnt straddle a Harley, or a guy named Harley. They just hung there, sad and ignored, for a few presidencies.
Someone, somewhere, will look great in these pants. Im hoping that someone is you, or that you can be suckered into buying them by a girl youre trying to bed.
Please buy these leather pants.

Via Scott…

So who wants to lend me their camera?
http://www.flickr.com/photos/tags/cameratoss/interesting/

Rachaelsleight.com has some gumboots that don’t look like gumboots. Sadly, what they really look like is earthworm costumes for your legs. Still, if they had colours other than “Halloween Toffee,” which I’m sure they do/will, I could see people wanting these.

via No Garlic Please

I don’t know if it’s just me, or if this happens to everyone, and I just happen to find myself slightly more interesting than other people do, but I was moving some stuff around in the kitchen today, and noticed that the bottle of TUMS would look like SMUT if it was mirror imaged, and tried to take a picture of it, but it didn’t work out (too fuzzy, and hey, that’d be a “Z” wouldn’t it?), but then I noticed the can of coffee right behind the Smutty Tums, and flipped it over:

and started looking at it. But, like, really looking at it. In that Close Encounters of the Third Kind “This Means Something” kinda way.
First I thought “Splempe”, and ran that around in my head a bit. Nothing. My techie-sense was tingling though, and I took a photo of the coffee can and later cropped it to this:

Does it mean anything? Nope.
Does dyslexia have it’s self-discovery upside? Not as such.
Am I getting a little stir-crazy, and likely to start my next post with “So I was interviewing my cat about the new baby in the house and…”
Perhaps.

Via No Garlic Please.com

A sofa is discovered in the back streets of Deptford. Sad looking, with its broken leg and ripped leather, its fate was to be left out on the streets, damp and rejected. Thinking this was not a good way for it to go, Raw Nerve took it back to the studio. It sparked the group’s imagination as we considered all the things it may have experienced in its lifetime.

Stock.Xchng does free digital stock photography. Don’t forget next time Arwen comes looking for something.

A little video for:

An unsolicited music video for the band Grandaddy and their song of the same name off of the album The Sophtware Slump.

Ripley and I just watched it together, and I think he’s about ot fall asleep against my elbow here, unless I suddenly start typing really hard, and bouncing that little muscle you get from typing. Hope you’re all having a decent Saturday afternoon.

Just sitting here watching the Daily Show, and I thought I’d just take a moment and reflect on what a great day we all had. Mostly because of a little outage that we had to go out for a little trip for a checkup for Arwen. Everything’s cool, her blood pressure is cool, and Tate’s cool. Yay them!
Okay, so after we did that (Rip and I sat in the waiting room, reading a Sesame Street book that was ANCIENT – with old scary skinny Big Bird and some sorta GREEN Grover-look-a-like in it.

It was awesome,) we wandered down to the Toys’R’Us looking for a dinosaur costume for Rip. We found one dragon one that was pretty good, but then we found a wicked Dinosaur costume that was… too small. POOP!
So, as any normal 3.5y/o would, Ripley had a massive melt-down about not buying a Thomas the Tank Engine, of course. We ended up outside the store while Arwen paid for the burp cloths ($9 for 4 of them?) with me talking to Rip like a Negotiator because he was already “Timed Out” of being in the store, but I couldn’t send him to a room anywhere (A’s got a post about what we’ve been doing to R’s head as of late) unless you want to count me sending him to the baby section.
(Commercial Note To Self: Tommy Lee Goes to College – God Help Us All)
Cameron Diaz is on the Daily Show now, pumping “In Her Shoes” and she’s got some really REALLY bad hair. I’m not a huge fan of hers in the first place, but seriously, who’d she piss off in the green room to go on-stage looking like that.
Arwen’s falling asleep in the glider chair ’cause Tate’s toasty warm, and cute as hell, and gets this look on his face like Bernard on Black’s Books when he asked for a sandwich with pickles and was told “sure.” Pure bliss.
got totally sidetracked, and will have to talk about the day later…

Via We Make Money Not Art, there’s the project called Playing the Building

I wish I had had enough equipment, time, and mostly, MONEY to have done this in just about any place I’ve ever lived. And maybe a few cars.

So, I’ve been playing around with Ubuntu Linux over the last few years, downloading the occasional LiveCD to see what things look like, and what does/doesn’t work on my tower and/or laptop. For the most part, the main thing that’s scared me away from seriously trying Linux is that I’d have so much fiddling around to do to get my WiFi working in the house. This version (5.10 “Breezy Badger) just plain worked. No messing around, no preconfiguration with another NDIS wrapper or something. Just… worked.

So then I downloaded a proper installation disc (non-live), created a little 5gb partition on my laptop, and now I’ve got dual booting XP/Ubuntu.

Pretty neat, and now I’m finally getting some experience in this particular flavour of Linux. Oh, and if you call it Leeeeenux within earshot, I will giggle at you.