- “Someone must have slandered Josef K., for one morning, without having done anything truly wrong, he was arrested.”
I heart Kafka.
I heart Kafka.
Walked down to the cash machine at lunch; Alpha gave me all her money last night when we went to an Italian restaurant for dinner because she likes the man to pay when we go out and is embarassed to be seen giving me the money to pay with right there at the table so she always does it beforehand and I forgot to return her change. I got the money and strolled around in search of something to eat. It began to sprinkle lightly, but the high humidity and generally dark appearance of the sky motivated me to cut short my walk. I found a “super”market where I bought some pineapple juice, honey-roasted peanuts and an ice-cream sandwich. Outside the rain, just in from France, started falling. A poor little fat kid was running down the sidewalk, running for his life, as if he had a bus to catch or foxes were chasing him; running in that syncopated fat kid way where their bones move, followed a split second later by their fat. “Poor little fat kid,” I thought. And a woman at the crosswalk kept trying to cross against the light, and kept nearly getting run over. I was tempted to explain to her what the red and green lights mean. I walked back to the office and no dogs bit me. The rain was falling, but lightly and there was a thick canopy of large trees all the way back to the office and the rain was taking its time working down through the leaves and the sidewalk was mostly dry all the way back. The air had that rain in summer smell, of rain on warm pavement, rain on dust.
According to this Chinese medicine stuff, I might need more wood in my life.
A child has been sneaking into my bed at night and kicking me in the head. Sometimes she kicks me other places; in the side, in the hip, in the back. I tried rolling clear over to the edge, but she just expands to fill any available space. Plus she sweats and kicks off the covers. This has been going on for a long time. When I wake I am teetering on the edge of our king-sized mattress, and jump out of bed and hobble downstairs to make coffee, feed the
morons cats, etc etc. It’s like living in a Raymond Carver world without the booze.
Somebody remind me when Michele’s getting married so I can send congratulations and a gift in time.
Schockwellenreiter says (in German) that if everyone were to post just 20 fake e-mail addresses on their websites (even invisibly commented-out, since some spiders do not differentiate between visible text and commented-out text), that would eventually pollute the e-mail lists compiled by spammers via spiders to the point that they would be discouraged from gathering addresses in this way. Does anyone know if this is true? I would think that, since the cost of collecting addresses in this way is low, they wouldn’t care if some mails bounced.
Just in case, here are 20 fake (I hope) e-mail addresses:
firstname.lastname@example.org email@example.com firstname.lastname@example.org email@example.com firstname.lastname@example.org email@example.com hot4U2004@yahoo.com firstname.lastname@example.org email@example.com firstname.lastname@example.org email@example.com firstname.lastname@example.org email@example.com firstname.lastname@example.org email@example.com firstname.lastname@example.org email@example.com shoesRus@spambotsdie.org firstname.lastname@example.org email@example.com