Chrome Foxes

If it's not from Ted, it doesn't go on my feet
1) I need new socks - there are too many holes in the pairs I own at present, and it's annoying when the weather is inclement, you have one bare toe poking out because it gets cold, then before you know it, you have frost bite and amputation is imminent. Yes, I jump to conclusions, I know. Deal with it.

2) I can't get my thoughts in order this week. It requires too much effort, and I don't think the benefits, in so much that there are any, are worth the effort. So I shan't, and I shall simply put words down in a semi-random fashion and let the chips (or words as the case may be) fall where they fall.

3) The local version of our orgre is being orgrish again. It's clear that living under the bridges (or is that troll - they're related anyway, or maybe it's because the trolls are bullying the orgre that makes the orgre orgrish? And does the fact that trolls live under bridges have anything to do with the bridge tolls?) doesn't suit him. I'm surprised though because the underneath of a bridge seems the perfect place for this particular orgre. He's already practically green with slime so would blend in well with the damp and dark mud of a riverbank that sees little or no sun. Perhaps we'll be lucky and he'll pick up some undiscovered virus or bacterium (no, they're not the same thing) which will epigenitcally change his makeup and personality for all personality is due to hormones and chemicals, and all hormones and chemicals are derived from proteins which are ultimately programmed by DNA which is in turn affected by random methylations, or de-methylations which is what epigenetics is more or less about.

4) Sequence, sequence, sequence, he said to me. No, no, no, I said. Never shall I join the sequencing brigade. I would rather stick my finger in liquid nitrogen first, and I may well have to do that. The other option for me is to focus nice, sharp radiation beams into the cornea of orgres in which case the outcome may be a little less painful.

The shoebox may not be in the clouds, but it is in the sun
5) SOCK, BKKB, stands for SOMETIMES OUTSPOKEN COOL KID, and he was outspoken last night. Something about taking copious amounts of  (and I quote here), the drug of choice. We perked up and turned our ears and veins towards him, but it turns out the drug of choice of which the SOCK spaketh was ibuprofen so we turned away in disappointment. Nonetheless, ibuprofen is not to be underestimated for I will need some today - no, not because I'm going up to high altitudes, my shoebox is not that high up in the clouds - apparently copious amounts of ibuprofen helps with altitude, if not unfortunately, attitude sickness - but because last night's run was a wee bit faster than I wanted given the numerous cups of coffee I had in the afternoon. Sigh. Coffee - such a friend and yet an enemy at the same time. So loving, and so treacherous.

A stylish blow against the tyranny of choice!
6) A shiny Chromebook pixel with wonderful resolution and 4.3 x 10^6 pixels is in my future. I've decided, and why? Because it's a a blow against the tyranny of choice and an investment in my future sanity. Let me attempt to rationalize this explain... You see. The chromebook is designed to work with the cloud (already you feel better don't you, calmer, more zen-like, just at the thought of clouds) and so you're dependent on the internet and the much simpler applications available there. There are no bloated software programs on the Chromebook itself so  once you're offline, you're limited to what you can do and this will focus your mind on any one task at hand instead of spreading your attention around on a whole bunch of tasks. In short, I'll have more presence of mind and be more focussed and yeah, that's it. So really, I can say that getting a chromebook is a blow against the tyranny of choice...and really, it's anti-consumerism because in keeping with The Guardian's precepts, you buy once, use it for many things, and for a long time and don't have to get a whole bunch of other stuff. Okay, so it's not much of a rationale but I don't really care, because bottom line, it's what I WANT. There, that felt good so next time I'm in Portland, I'm getting one. I am so getting one even if Boo-boy in Portland will tell me that I'm being silly, and Dr. J will shake his head, and Dr. C will have me committed so he and the other Dr. C can study me in more detail, "fascinating thought processes, let's cut his brain open".

Vulpine weather
7) And while we're on the subject of wanting, I have also decided that I'm getting a Vulpine rain jacket. It rained very hard on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, and my blue biking jacket couldn't deal with it, and I ended up wet on all three days. And as I've explained before, there is the option of having Vulpine bury you in your organic-cotton with fair-trade dyes and silicon sourced from the best beaches around the world jacket, in a cotton so you become part of the world, and the next crop of Vulpine jackets and so in a sense become immortal (and waterproof), so again this meets with all of The Guardian's precepts in buying once and living (and dying) with the product so you don't over-consume...or at least that's what goes through my head in an inchoate manner which is all a blind for saying that This is also something, I really, really, really WANT.

8) Finally, I must be careful what I wish for because as I've learnt before, your wishes are granted when the gods (the ones spelt with a little g) want to punish you. I have one of three of Bridget's goals in life, should I want more? YES! WANT! WANT! WANT! ....then WANT shall be your master.