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999,961
Things*
(Author's
note: I was tagged the other day by the beatific k at the
silent k to do a 7 Things meme. She must've been reading
my mind because I was getting ready to post this shit anyway.)
999,961:
My first name is really not Mad and my last name is really
not Haiku. In case you were wondering.
999,960:
No one's ever asked, but the name MadHaiku got thought up
on one of those Jack Daniel's nights. A passage from On
the Road worked it's way through the fog of inebriation:
"...the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones
who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous
of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or
say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn like the fabulous
yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars
and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody
goes "Awww!'"
999,959:
I liked the The
Dharma Bums better.
999,958:
Because I work for a tight-ass company, all personal blogs
need to be company approved. Yeah right, like I'm going to
run this past some schmoe in HR.
999,957:
I suppose if I were ever found out by a company hack, I'd
face some kind of sanction up to possible dismissal. All I
can is COME AND GET ME.
999,956:
Still, I try to be a good citizen, corporate or otherwise.
I vote, I don't cheat on my taxes, I don't lie on my expense
reports. Sometimes, though, you just gotta stick it to The
Man.
999,955:
I work in an industry that a lot of people think is dying;
some consider it already dead.
999,954:
I cuss a lot. But not as much as I fucking used to.
999,953:
I'd like to know what was going through the mind of the last
elevator operator at Bloomingdales on the very last ride.
Was the car going up or down?
999,952:
If I could be anything right now, I'd want to be a painter,
like Jackson Pollock except not that crazy.
999,951:
The best biography I've read so far is Jackson
Pollock by Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith.
de
Koonig by Mark Stevens and Annalyn Swan was not bad
either.
999,950:
This may come as a surprise, or then again maybe not, but
I tend to be a happy drunk. Some of the shit I do when I'm
drunk I'll do when I'm sober. Somehow, though, it's just not
the same.
999,949:
My wife says I'm attracted to needy women. How does she know?
999,948:
I have this inexplicable need to understand the principles
of grammar, which accounts for the book I'm reading right
now: Sister
Bernadette's Barking Dog. It's a thin book, but, inexplicably,
it's taking me a long time to get through it.
999,947:
I'm not much of a joiner. If you run an organization, you
wouldn't want me as a member because I would never volunteer
for any committees, I would never sell any shit to help raise
funds. Hell, I wouldn't even show up for the meetings.
999,946:
I do belong to one professional organization, but only so
they will have something to put in my obituary when the time
comes. I like to plan ahead.
999,945:
So far, I have 54 connections (mostly from strangers) on my
LinkedIn account. I have yet to find a useful purpose for
the damn thing.
999,944:
Speaking of useless web crap, is there anything more useless
than Technorati?
999,943:
A couple of things I used to do but don't anymore: Buy CDs;
stand in line at Blockbuster; smoke menthols.
999,942:
Am I mocking bloggers who do all these memes by calling mine
A Million Things (You May Not Know About Me)? No, not really.
I admire them actually.
999,941:
Do I really think I can do a million? You're shittin me, right?
Posted
11.28.07|
*Continued
from 999,980
Things
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