Too Pooped to Pop

Back in the 1970s, John Lennon had a tee shirt that had written across its front, THIS IS NOT HERE. The full meaning of that phrase has finally hit home. I am not here.

This web project is so huge that I don’t have time to scratch my ass. I’ve been working 17-hour days/nights in order to meet the deadline, so that provides me only with time to power-nap between bouts with my computer and the evil beastie. It’s going to be this way–and even intensify–as midnight, September 1st, looms ever nearer. Plus, I never really had time to get over my Florida trip, where I saw an old friend of mine. But as soon as I got home, the web gigs started really rolling in. Not that I’m complaining…

So I just wanted to say that I do check in long enough to read comments and smack myself with the guilt hammer, but until this monstrosity is in the can and thrown into the lake of fire, my entries will be short and sporadic.

Thanks for your patience. Now, would someone please get me another cuppa Joe?

Asshat

The stupidest things keep me awake at night. It might be a thought that I’m tailing, or it might be a collection of ideas. Sometimes it can be one word. Like last night...

The Way-Back Machine

Have you forgotten what the web looked like in 1996, or 2000? Click here to visit the Wayback Machine. Submit your URL and see the changes your site has gone through.

I still haven’t been to bed. I drove Joel to the airport (over an hour one way) at 4:30 this morning and I’m tanked on coffee. Guess I’ll work until sleep comes to claim me.