- Mr. Jones has a bad case of bronchitis. He’s been very sick since Monday so to cheer him up I bought Monty Python’s Meaning of Life on DVD. I thought he could use the laugh and he’s never seen it. Ever since we watched it this song has been stuck in my head:
“Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is good…” I only wish I could remember all the words so I could properly sing along.
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This morning I was at the gym doing my 30 minutes of cardio on the eliptical trainer and listening to Ella Fitzgerald Live on my MP3 player. She hit an especially interesting high note and in the background you could hear the crowd errupted in applause. I had a moment before I realized that they weren’t applauding me. I had just cranked the resistance up to 11 (it goes to 11…) and was pedaling along like a rat on a wheel and it seemed somewhat appropriate that someone acknowledge my achievement. I was only a little disappointed.
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When I’m loading software at work or generally waiting for something to happen on one of the computers I’m working on I’ll play solitaire. Spider, two suits, to be exact. Sometimes I get a running commentary in my head like a sports caster at the Olympics is watching my game and reporting to a crowd: “Oh, that was a bad move there, Jim, she’s definitely going to pay for that later. Hope she can recover…” or “Brilliant! that’s just the kind of play that’s going to win this championship for Ms. Jones” That sort of thing. (I’m kinda hoping I’m not the only person that does this)
I do consider myself sane. Go figure.
