Fallout is a Harsh Mistress

Contrary to what you might have assumed, neither this blog, nor I, are dead. I wish I could say that I've been really busy or that I'm still sick, but no - the truth is, I've just been Lazy McSlackenheimer of late.

I only have two classes this semester, plus 3 credits of thesis research. Granted, those two classes (Sociobiology and Research Methods) are both beastly, but in past semesters I have taken 3 classes and still had time to post. I'm not sure what the deal is this semester, but it seems like I have less time to write than ever. I am beginning to believe that the days are shorter this year. It probably has something to do with the economy - fucking greedy Wall Street types...

Several of the BCPs have tried to motivate me by offering topic suggestions. Some have suggested that I go back to my usual pissy ranting about the ennui of college, but even I'm tired of that. Another wanted me to put more effort into bashing the talking heads of the Right, but that would mean that I'd have to listen to Limbaugh and Beck more. The Papal cardiologist and the Papal therapist both recommended against it, as listening to those asshats simultaneously depresses me and makes my blood pressure soar.

One even offered me a book concept. She said, "You know how you're always saying that the average American doesn't begin to understand why the Proletariat should rise up and throw off the Capitalists? You could write a book that explains it to them!"

"Yes," I said, "but that book has already been written. It's called The Communist Manifesto."

"Well, yeah, but you're so funny!" Then she wrinkled her pretty nose and said, "Besides, no one wants to read Marx."

Despite these adorable shows of support, I have remained a non-productive lameass. Some of the problem is related to my brief but intense fling with Fallout 3 (if that game was a woman, I'd buy it chocolates and ask it out - and it would say "no," because it's way too good for me, and I would just love it from afar... maybe wait outside it's house... and end up with a restraining order). I can't really blame my silence on that, however, as the Xbox here at Flockhall is currently out of commission, due to the red ring of death. It is by sheer force of will alone that I am not at WalMart right now buying a new one.

Truthfully, I believe it is mostly due to my lack of a proper schedule, which is directly related to my lack of regular workouts. Simply put, if Linus no tired, Linus no sleep. Now that I'm well enough to sweat again, I'm trying to remedy that lack. We have been playing handball for the last two weeks, I've been swinging the kettlebells again, and I've started going back to the MMA gym as well. I am taking it easy, however, as I am finally accepting the mileage my body has on it. I don't want a relapse of the mystery virus, nor do I need to tweak my shoulder again. I just want to be tired enough to fall into bed around 11:00 every night, so I can rise early and get stuff done. If that works, I should be able to take some daytime shifts in the computer labs, and that is when the blog magic happens.

So - if you have missed my inane blathering here, make the correct obeisances before whatever heathen altars you frequent, and pray that I sleep. Light candles, make burnt offerings, anoint things, or even one another - I'm authorizing you to pull out all the stops. Once you get the attention of the supernatural entity of your choice, ask nicely, like you would ask Santa.


Teh Dr. said...

What about the lonely little atheist, how can he contribute, with no altar to call his own?

His Sinfulness said...

Surely you worship something... Science, perhaps? You could have a high table, with a bunson burner and an Erlenmeyer flask!

Teh Dr. said...

I'm not allowed to be around open flames anymore....not after what happened to little Timmy.

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