Working for a communications collassus like I do, I can't help but marvel at my state of the art 1998 computer. Ever since I've been there, there has been a web filter to keep you from going to "subversive" sites. The joke is that you get this screen filling ominous warning that when you first see it, you're convinced the web cops are coming.

I think it sets off a light at our data center that if nobody's watching, nobody cares. I was researching a prize wheel once and got busted for "Gambling." If you go to my space, you get busted for "Nudity." The logic is there is no real logic. The warnings got strangely toned down with the take over, but it managed to block a truly "dangerous" site today.




Can't have that spoiling the corporate landcape.

It was truly weird. Usually packed with domestic and professional obligations, I had an afternoon off from everything. With camera in hand, I headed down West Ferry until you run out of West Ferry and are on the Bird Island Pier.

The place has all the ambience of a crime scene and features the snack bar at the end of the universe, but I like walking the pier because of the renewed perspective it can give you. Bear in mind, I don't have (e:Matthew) 's eye (or his camera) or (e:Metalpeter) 's tenacity, but I got some decent pics despite my shortcomings.


Graffiti folks in search of a better world.

A couple of ducks shooting the rapids

The Peace Bridge underside

What's up with barbed wire and fencing on one side and nothing on the other.

The ovaltine colored water



Blame Canada!

These folks declared their love in about six places. Either Fred had some lil blue pills or somebody was overcompensating for something.

Think a swimmer left it behind?

Rats with wings.....

The view from the end, before the long track back to the car....huff..puff

Made you look.

Santa both secret and otherwise smiled upon me this past holiday season and the final straggler came in over the weekend from my younger sister. In the past week, I've come into a wide variety from the new Ipod to a painting of "Sunday in the Park" redone with Simpsons Characters to a NunChuck (a small pistol that will shoot little nun figures to distances that cover the diameter of the dispatch department of Time Warner) to the aforementioned chinese massage balls (they are doing wonders for my pending carpal tunnel).

Anyhoo, my sister couldn't get home due to professional committments in NYC, but she is feeling decidely sillier this year. She offered up some Mets garb and a keychain labeled (I kid you not) "Mr T. in a box." Six different catch phrases at the touch of a button.

I tossed the key chain in a jacket pocket without much though till this morning. Around 8:30, I stopped by the Allentown Trading Company for a paper and while the gentleman in front of me was paying for his purchases, Mr. T woke up. Out of a clear silence was heard, "Don't give me any more of your jibjab, sucka!"

Needless to say, the gentleman turned and looked at me with some skeptical amusement. I (doing my best to keep a straightface) turned and looked at the guy behind me (in a lame attempt to pass the buck).

Lasted all of a minute before we all broke up. Comedy relief at the ATC, I'm sure they will overprice it if given half a chance.

T'was a good time at the Estrip house last night/this morning. Thanks again, (e:Paul) , (e:Terry) , & (e:Matthew) . I have high regard for you guys for risking home and hearth for the enjoyment of us freeloaders.

I found myself standing back a little to fully taken in what all was going on. Great to chat a little more with more peeps than I've had previously. I don't think I said anything too stupid. (e:Soma) spun some great stuff.

Secret Santa left me suprisingly moved. My Santa made quite a little pick me up package that has me enscorcelled. Secret Santa, you rock!

Next time, I'll walk so I don't have to be "so sober, (e:imk) ."

Happy New Year Everybody!

While we were reveling on Linwood, bad stuff still happens. I called my folks this morning to say Happy New Year. They live in the Harris Hill section of Clarence. After extending me an invite for dinner tonight, they told me about ringing in the new year by serving coffee to firemen. The house right next door to them caught fire last night. A family of four lives there, although not any more. It doesn't look like much from the outside, but the inside is a fucking mess and a total goner. The stories around the neighborhood are rampant but the guess is that a candle or two got forgotten about.

Even though the facade is still standing, the burned floor joists make gutting the place the next step. I don't really know the residents but I wouldn't wish this on anybody. Tbe husband was wrestling some former christmas trappings to the curb. I walked over to say hi and talk to him as opposed to stare at the house. Plenty of other rubbernecking jerks were doing that. He was telling me that he was talking to a barrage of insurance people already and they will be covered for everything. I asked if he mentioned that his place is on Spaulding Lake with indoor outdoor pools. He got a laugh out of the poor joke which I guess is the important thing.



Doesn't take much to make you a gypsy.