Over the fourth of long Fourth of July weekend, I decided to experiment with some of the other Linux distributions floating around out there. I made only stipulation: I use a netbook, therefore the distribution must install from a USB flash drive. I have an old 1GB Sony, and a newer 2GB Sandisk, so there’s no reason this should be a difficult task. I told myself, “Self, 2009 is halfway over.

I believe it’s time to return my body for a refund. I got my cast off yesterday, and my ankle still hurts. In fact, I think it’s worse than before the cast. So, what exactly is going on? Well, the orthopedist hypothesizes that I have nerve involvement. This means either my nerve is caught in a pain feedback loop, or is entrapped, possibly by my continuing aggravated ankle sprain. So, not only have I done something horrible to my ankle, but I’ve involved a nerve.

There comes a time when a movie comes along, that a man simply knows, deep within his soul, that nothing could ever eclipse its genius. Ninja Cheerleaders, my friends, is that very movie. I knew I’d hit a goldmine when I saw George Takei listed in the credits, sure his unerring integrity was the only real endorsement David Presley’s script needed. Not only was I proven correct, but his portrayal of Hiroshi, sensei to the trio of cheerleaders, literally had me weeping, caught in the tremendous perfection this low-budget comedy deserves!

Being as I’m pretty much stuck at home in my wonderful cast, I’ve decided to try and go through all the staples we’ve acquired in our freezer and pantry that may or may not be in danger of expiring or acquiring capacious amounts of freezer burn. Since cooking the crap out of something is always the best way to ensure tenderness, I whipped out the crock-pot. Ingredients: * 2 lbs stew beef, cubed * 4 cups water * 1/2 cup white vinegar * 1 cup rice * 2 tbsp butter * 2/3 cup flour * 1 tsp sea salt, ground * 1/2 tsp bay leaves, chopped * 1/4 tsp black pepper, ground * 1/4 tsp sage, dry * 1/4 tsp rosemary, dry

Logic is a conundrum. That which sups upon the wretched singularity of the soul and gibbers unsated, slathering beyond redemption among voracious gullets of woe, seeking to consume every vestige of complacent acceptance until only oblivion remains. And as that creeping, insidious ivy grasps and claws, rending thought and will asunder, naught but confusion reigns where once supreme and permanent wisdom wrought transcendent equilibrium before the sack of time forgotten and unsung.