Twitter, Milk and Psycho-Fish

So I'm getting heavy into the Web 2.0 thing. Non-conformist that I claim to be, I'm such a damn follower. The latest thing I'm getting hooked on is Twitter (www.twitter.com). Listening to Leo too much, I guess. The way it works is, you just type in what your doing at that moment. Checking back from time to time you can see what others have been doing too. Sounds dumb, huh? Well, most addictive things are, I guess. But I don't care. You can see it here on the blog until I get tired of it. I've been playing around with lots of new things lately. I have Skype, as I said before, but no one else I know does. Guess that makes me an early adopter.... or just sad.

Have you ever noticed how calming milk can be? I have a self-proclaimed home-psychologist friend that will tell me I'm just reminded of suckling my mamma's teat, but then he thinks about that sort of thing all the time anyway. Think I'll discount that one. The house is in bed at the moment (except for this 46 year old geek), the TV is off, Alanis is playing in my headsets and I have a coffee mug full of milk. Seems to help soothe the abscess. And if you know that milk doesn't ease the pain of an abscess, just keep it to yourself. I enjoy self-delusional episodes. The mug itself is something my sister-in-law bought for me some years ago, and it's my favorite. It's a Bald Eagle soaring over a wetland landscape that she found at the zoo in North Carolina, and this thing has held coffee, hot chocolate, alcohol, tea, Thera-Flu, orange juice, water,,,,,,,,, and milk. I think milk is my favorite. Of course,,, this could be the Vicodin talking.

I'm house-sitting this week for some friends who are out of town. They have the absolute coolest felines. I mean it. These guys never tell on me when my friends come home. All I have to do is give them a little extra kibble and a scratch, then let the party begin. They even clean up after me. It's like I was never there. Now, the psycho-fish are a different story. These little demon-spawn appeared as though by magic one day in the fish tank. And they never die. I've never seen anything like it. When I walk past the tank, the follow me... in a school... all of them... all 12, no wait, 18,, jeez... 20 now. My friend feeds them blood worms (I think because they prefer human blood, and this is the only way to appease them) by actually squeezing them inside the tank. Not me, Jack. I sprinkle them from a height of 6 inches. The water fairly boils from the ensuing frenzy.

Tomorrow, I'm taking back-up.