Coming up next, it's... HOUSE

All the blood pouring out of my mouth and onto the shower floor was enough to turn the water a disconsertingly dark rusty color. I hadn't noticed a problem until I turned to spit, as I do constantly while I shower, and the spit was a bright undiluted red, but bloodier. I spat again. Same result.

Now my mouth was filling with that metallic tang, and I don't know why I hadn't tasted it sooner, except that maybe shampoo flavor is stronger than blood flavor. I searched my mouth with my tongue, fearing to find a tooth missing. I got panicky when I didn't find such an easy explanation, and tried to remember what happened to patients on House who start spitting up blood from their innards. The rate of flow stayed strong, and I considered whether I was more likely to die from bloodloss, or from whatever horrible thing was causing the hemmorage.

About 10 secs after I first noticed the problem, I finally put my hands to my face and discovered the source of blood was just my goddamn nose. Which had been my first thought, but my nose felt so untroubled in that shower. The warm water was pouring down my face and causing the blood to drop from my mouth and chin instead of from my nose. I had been completely taken in by a normal winter nosebleed, momentarily fearing for my life, because it had happened under slightly different environmental conditions than I was used to. Namely, school desks.

The Hipsters Are Getting Restless

So Indiana just got called for Obama... which will more than likely be followed by North Carolina and Missouri!? DOES TEH WINNINGS EVER STOP!? NO I DO NOT TINK SO... 4 YEARS OF WIN.

Like many other parts of the world, people convened on the streets of Brooklyn last night to celebrate the obamavictory. Shedding the practiced veils of apathetic-cool, the hip-ass kids took to the streets. Tight jeans, sunglasses at night, and cans of PBR spilled onto Bedford Ave in Williamsburg in a druken, freedom-loving orgy of previously burried patriotism.

Today in the blogosphere revelers whined about getting pushed, shoved, and in some cases even kicked by police who were called to relieve street congestion and kill fun. The NYPD issued a response in the New York Times claiming back injuries and beer-bottle-to-noggin-contact by fault of the kids (who built this election on rock 'n roll and viral videos).

As I wasn't there, but rather a few blocks away curled up in a blanket, I can't definitively say which side is the mcwhiney pants who had to take a ride in the waaahmbulance. But I am excited at the prospect that in this political arc we're riding, there is a distinct possibility that there will be a resurgence of dancing in the street.

We are all Going to Die

Being at work an hour early makes me want to kick puppies, blog, and generally make others suffer with me. Good thing the end of the world is near.

The Large Hardon Collider (insert graphic joke set up here) has officially been turned on (punchline).

According to the BBC, everyone is very optimistic and things seem to be going on well enough so far. So what does this doomsday contraption do? send particles at each other so freaking fast that they...well...nobody knows exactly what happens when particles smash into each other at that speed.

"We will be looking at what the Universe was made of billionths of a second after the Big Bang. That is amazing, that really is fantastic."

The LHC should answer one very simple question: What is mass?

"We know the answer will be found at the LHC," said Jim Virdee, a particle physicist at Imperial College London.

The currently favoured model involves a particle called the Higgs boson - dubbed the "God Particle". According to the theory, particles acquire their mass through interactions with an all-pervading field carried by the Higgs.

We're looking for "the answer" and "God." And we're looking for them on the French-Swiss border.
Ok. So this is pretty much my idea of what is happening right now:

Curtain Rises
Enter stage right: Julie Andrews and Trapp family fresh faced and rosy cheeked out of the alps, singing about figs.

Enter stage left: Patrick "Professor Xavier" Stewart on his floating handicap steed of steel, singing about Cerebro.

The two run/float quickly up the hill, unabashedly prancing about in such a careless manner that they collide! OH NO.

Enter stage somewhere: A mouse and the number 42.

Curtain Falls
The end. (quite literally- the end of everything)
+ =

I just beat the shit out of two big stray dogs

There are a ton of dogs in my neighborhood, and they are all adept at escaping from their homes/yards. I think it's great, because catching stray dogs is seriously really fun. You gotta be all nice and soothing, throwing treats at their head from a distance, seducing them with your voice, earning their trust, and then lassoing them.

When I was littler, my mom came home from work to find a random psycho german shepard running around my room. I told her it had just "crept in from outside", but I had actually lured it in with kraft cheese singles.

So this morning, when two huge husky dogs I'd never seen started hanging out in my yard, I was like "Jackpot. It's go time." The owner had been driving around yesterday, asking people to keep an eye out for them, so I knew they were definitely renegade.

One was all black, and the other one was all white. EX:

I ran outside with some dog treats and tried to grab them by their matching pink & purple collars. The white one seemed like a decent fellow, but when I got up close he bit my hand twice and then they both ran away. My hand has a detailed print of his dental records, and it's pretty cool to see how the teeth in his top and bottom jaw line up.

Not being one to pass up excitement, I ran into the house, grabbed a piece of string cheese (bait) and a leash, and started hunting them. It took 45 min of running around through strangers' yards, tracking them by the sound of their jingling collars. I eventually caught up to them in a field, where they turned to make their final stand. A few neighborhood kids showed up to watch the spectacle, but I told them to "stand back, these dogs are dangerous!"

Blackie ignored my existence, like he was autistic or something, so I focused on Whitey again, luring him close with pieces of string cheese. I started prancing on my toes like Muhammad Ali, and this time I was too fast for him when I darted in and grabbed his collar. Once I had the leash on, he mellowed out a bit, and I was able to read the phone number off of his tags. I sent one of the kids to get me a phone, but THEN WHITEY TWISTED HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS COLLAR. That's NOT how collars are supposed to work. And now Whitey was fucking pissed. One of the kids started screaming and ran about 50 yds away.

Had I been wearing any shoes, I would have just started kicking Whitey straight back to hell. But since I didn't want him to bite all my toes off, I pranced away quick.

This whole episode had agitated Blackie, now the only one with a collar, and he started runnin in circles around me. That is when my primal instincts took over and I legit jumped onto Blackie's back, like he was a small pony, and like, used my thighs to squeeze him into submission. I think Whitey is in love with Blackie, because as soon as I had Blackie hostage, Whitey surrendered too.

The kid came back with a phone, so we called the owner to come pick the hell hounds up. He offered me a $20, but I said "no prob".