tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763858199394622282012-03-06T22:13:11.875-05:00Musings on life, love, and the ever present threat of bear attacks. Bears are <em>everywhere.</em> There's one behind you right now.James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.comBlogger921100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-88354719172877858972012-03-06T12:07:00.000-05:002012-03-06T12:07:44.451-05:00

When I was a kid - let's say the middle of elementary school, as I remember being enthralled by teenagers of the mighty and/or morphin' persuasion - weekend trips to the little branch library by my mom's apartment were the highlight of my week. Contained in this library were shelves of what you'd call “books”, and I'd forgive you for that. To me, they were life lines. As a kid who liked

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-62847286145636359032012-03-02T09:00:00.000-05:002012-03-02T09:00:11.161-05:00

Batman is a DC Comics character, and Batman: The Animated Series is owned by Warner Home Video. If you'd like to purchase this episode, you may do so here; if you'd like to buy the DVD box set, you may do so here. The story is by Mitch Brian; the teleplay is by Sean Catherine Derek and Laren Bright; and the episode was directed by Kevin Altieri. As fits the episode title, the background

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-90473788679238764252012-02-27T09:13:00.000-05:002012-02-27T09:13:19.159-05:00

It all started about eight months ago today, and none of the guys had let me hear the end of it. The day they found out, there was all that hooting and hollering, all the talk of "she'll be the death of you" and "count your days". The usual, I guess. There was a flurry of planning, but I was left out of most of it; us guys, we just have to smile and nod when they hand us our marching orders.

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-26338574784742802542012-02-24T09:00:00.000-05:002012-02-25T08:30:45.384-05:00

Batman is a DC Comics character, and Batman: The Animated Series is owned by Warner Home Video. If you'd like to purchase this episode, you may do so here; if you'd like to buy the DVD box set, you may do so here. The story is by Tom Ruegger; the teleplay is by Jules Dennis and Richard Mueller; and the episode was directed by Frank Paur. Big brass instruments give us a skittering score, like

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-29931377338138392982012-02-21T09:00:00.000-05:002012-02-23T15:35:13.440-05:00

The two men stood talking, one of them casually leaning against the door frame. His right hand was in his pocket, elbow akimbo; his left hand held coffee in a generic cup, both the stylized cardboard label and the genuine article steaming away. Both men laughed - no, guffawed - and I heard a fragment of dialogue, "...I don't know what they think they're doing..." Inside the dark corners of my

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-26651648644373773692012-02-17T09:00:00.000-05:002012-02-23T16:45:04.861-05:00

Batman is a DC Comics character, and Batman: The Animated Series is owned by Warner Home Video. If you'd like to purchase this episode, you may do so here; if you'd like to buy the DVD box set, you may do so here. The story is by Paul Dini and Michael Reaves; the teleplay is by Tom Ruegger; and the episode was directed by Boyd Kirkland. The title tune is a subdued version of the bombastic

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-61942899405308593042012-02-14T14:57:00.001-05:002012-02-14T15:00:45.175-05:00

The voice on the other end had that buzz recorded messages invariably acquired, even with smartphones and iPhones and 4G networks humming mankind's words along like the messengers of the gods. "John, it's Sarah." Pause. "How are you? I hope well. I was reading the funniest thing the other day and I thought of you! It's been what, since last summer? No, it was your graduation! Time really flies.

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-84380652495551176412012-02-13T12:25:00.000-05:002012-02-13T12:25:27.522-05:00

Another month, another 13th, another robot! (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, check out the introduction.) This month's mechano-paper organism goes by the calendar name "Heartbreaker", which is ridiculously overwrought. Instead, I will call him Crobert. Behold, Crobert - February's robot! February's robot did not feel swellHe was trapped in his metal shell His boxy head was full

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-44263254438547357152012-02-10T09:00:00.000-05:002012-02-15T19:26:46.213-05:00

Batman is a DC Comics character, and Batman: The Animated Series is owned by Warner Home Video. If you'd like to purchase this episode, you may do so here; if you'd like to buy the DVD box set, you may do so here. This episode was written by Carl Swenson and directed by Kevin Altieri. Nosferatu by way of Bozo gives the viewer a buck toothed and off center grin, the eyes reminiscent of those

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-71724280967950337222012-02-07T10:14:00.000-05:002012-02-07T10:16:49.667-05:00

I started a LinkedIn profile and then totally ignored it, which probably wasn't the best move. However, it means I occasionally get unintentionally hilarious emails that look like this: "Alexis Lastname has indicated you are a Friend" Where friend is capitalized, like they're a future assassin robot and that's a category they place people in so they don't shove a blender through their

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-61202623850932593262012-02-06T09:11:00.000-05:002012-02-06T09:11:17.004-05:00

He lashed out at the wall with his foot, a sudden, savage motion. In response, there was only a dull thud from the box he was trapped in. He did the same with his other foot, but the only change was soreness in his toes. He leaned back on his coccyx and pounded the featureless square in from of him with both heels, grunts escaping his throat. Insensate with rage, he threw more futile kicks at the

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-57250512187662013832012-02-04T17:08:00.000-05:002012-02-04T17:08:06.160-05:00

If you haven't seen the full trailer for Chronicle, it's probably for the best. If you do watch it, disregard the way it portrays the characters. The trailer is cut like a typical high school movie, probably to appeal to typical high school students. As such, it looks like you'll have to spend the prerequisite "fifteen minutes with jerks" you usually do with these kinds of movies. Thankfully,

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-21605824422468857482012-02-03T09:00:00.000-05:002012-02-15T19:26:38.146-05:00

Batman is a DC Comics character, and Batman: The Animated Series is owned by Warner Home Video. If you'd like to purchase this episode, you may do so here; if you'd like to buy the DVD box set, you may do so here. This episode was written by Henry T. Gilroy and Sean Catherine Derek, and directed by Boyd Kirkland. The ghostly shadow of a scarecrow is projected onto a whiskey colored backdrop

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-83697102131451722562012-01-27T09:00:00.000-05:002012-02-15T19:26:30.092-05:00

Batman is a DC Comics character, and Batman: The Animated Series is owned by Warner Home Video. If you'd like to purchase this episode, you may do so here; if you'd like to buy the DVD box set, you may do so here. This episode was written by Eddie Gorodetsky and directed by Kent Butterworth. The Joker is hunched in a derelict Santa suit, his yellow eyes and equally yellow teeth beaming in

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-62919936111949787392012-01-25T10:23:00.001-05:002012-02-24T13:41:55.693-05:00

Much like the popular films by Christopher Nolan, Batman: The Animated Series uses its first installment to introduce the flawed double - Ra’s al-Ghul/Man-Bat - and its second installment to introduce The Joker, arguably Batman’s shadow archetype. Regardless of whether you agree with that interpretation or not, you have to ask yourself one question: (P.S. More fiction coming soon. I’ve

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-90791345183387491082012-01-20T09:00:00.000-05:002012-02-15T19:26:19.501-05:00

Batman is a DC Comics character, and Batman: The Animated Series is owned by Warner Home Video. If you'd like to purchase this episode, you may do so here; if you'd like to buy the DVD box set, you may do so here. This episode was written by Mitch Brian and directed by Kevin Altieri. Opening Moody strains of Danny Elfman's score play as the Warner Brothers logo fades out into the front

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-64180986992717615312012-01-19T14:24:00.000-05:002012-01-19T20:38:37.874-05:00

Tomorrow, I'm starting a regular weekly feature on Bad Ideas. It's something I've wanted to do for a long time, but haven't been able to pull together for one reason or another. However, I'm happy to announce it's finally time. Every Friday, I'm going to be recapping episodes of Batman: The Animated Series. Some of you might remember it from childhood, like I do. It originally ran from late

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-26570712017412768352012-01-18T09:00:00.000-05:002012-02-23T17:01:24.684-05:00

Remembering the circumstances behind this post still fills me with wonder; it was like watching a baby unicorn take its first steps, or having a burrito delivered by a dolphin. I'm afraid to breath too hard, lest I dispel whatever benign magic was at work. All the same, it's about time I finally shared it. If you've never met my mother, let me just say, it will explain a lot. She's the

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-42440387553663012042012-01-15T11:10:00.000-05:002012-02-24T13:38:57.737-05:00

We did secret Santa at work with a $10 limit. This guy in accounting knew I liked computer games, so he got me Skyroam. I guess it's like the Chinese knock off Skyrim. You play a barbarian whose village was eaten by a dragon while you were being born and so you have dragon attacks. However, in order to replenish your attacks you have to wait for a dragon to fly overhead and have it pee on

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-1827807536253701622012-01-13T09:00:00.000-05:002012-02-24T13:37:54.744-05:00

For Christmas, I got a calendar featuring a different papercraft robot each month. In case you were wondering, yes, that is how you say "I love you" in Geek. I've decided to assemble and photograph each paper robot for you, so that you can vicariously share in my joy. However, I expect difficulty. I have good reasons for this. Believe it or not, I missed the very first day of first grade. It's

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-46523265901248236542012-01-09T14:07:00.000-05:002012-01-09T14:07:15.775-05:00

I'm currently editing a short story length piece of fiction that will be parceled out on Bad Ideas in the days to come. In the meanwhile, here's this thing: Do you ever think about toast? Like, really think about it? I don't either; well, I didn't. No one does, not really. And you know why? Because it'd be a waste of time. Almost anything is better than thinking about toast, including, but

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-45514156984026057442012-01-06T13:52:00.000-05:002012-01-07T19:05:00.268-05:00

Please read Part I if you have not done so already. “Cargo denied. Initiating scan,” the robotic voice said, all in a tone of infuriating calm. “What's it doing, Peter?” Susan asked, a pom in each hand, hat pulled down tight. “Something we brought isn't right,” he said, with a look at her. “What could that be?” Susan pouted, which she was excellent at. The bubble rose to the surface

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-72304206454249411232012-01-04T11:23:00.001-05:002012-01-04T14:34:40.336-05:00

“Travelers are reminded the Johari window will be opening in 25 minutes,” the crisp robotic voice said from somewhere above the long, white corridors. “Come on!” Susan shouted, running ahead of her brother down the gently curving hallway. “We’ll be late!” Peter shuffled his feet, dragging the large black suitcase behind him. The hand not pulling his luggage was stuffed deep in a pocket, and

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-38885343280155979832012-01-03T08:54:00.000-05:002012-01-03T08:54:52.906-05:00

Things are gonna change, I can feel it. Happy 2012 Hello all! Happy New Year, or at least Happy New(ish) Year! Three days in, the new year smell is already fading and it's lost half the resale value, possibly a little more after bumping into that wonky curb in front of the Citgo. Anyone's resolutions already broken, or showing signs of cracks? If so, don't worry! There's still Eastern

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-48186112538343191322011-12-22T11:51:00.000-05:002012-02-24T09:08:16.262-05:00

It takes about a minute to get where you're standing:

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-77562930224877409102011-12-21T15:46:00.000-05:002012-02-25T11:01:32.766-05:00

My name is Isaiah Lewis, and I was 17 when I first turned invisible. I'm sure a lot of 17 year olds feel like they're invisible, either to girls, or guys, or both. (It's a confusing age.) However, I mean actually invisible, as in unable to be observed, translucent man, photons need not apply; I was possibly the first brother in history who could walk out of a Klan meeting with a piece of pie.

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-78155288408040035302011-12-20T11:08:00.000-05:002012-02-24T10:06:40.984-05:00

Did you know that there are ten ways to separate a man's head from his still living body? There are probably a lot more, but I've only tried ten ways so far. They'd probably work for a woman's head too, but I haven't tried with any women. They are: 1.) Knife 2.) Hacksaw 3.) Hatchet 4.) Circular saw 5.) Piano wire 6.) Wood chipper 7.) Bear trap 8.) Zamboni 9.) Machete 10.) Cleaver

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-80199328045677395512011-12-18T17:43:00.000-05:002012-02-23T17:02:51.101-05:00

I haven't done any comedy in awhile, but this image macro instantly created itself in my mind:

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-22681426771179577812011-12-15T15:06:00.000-05:002012-02-24T11:22:30.625-05:00

Jack had just sat down to dinner - beef pot roast with big chunks of gold potatoes - when he heard the light knock, so light he wondered if he imagined it. He was in his late sixties, hair gone sheep's wool, and sounds had started to play tricks on him. Not that he'd admit that to anyone, although the folks in town suspected from the way he asked the waitress at Shirley's to repeat herself

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-70433903312577049062011-12-10T20:51:00.001-05:002012-02-24T10:38:30.833-05:00

It happened nine years ago today. Nine is an odd anniversary to celebrate, but none of us actually think we'll make it to ten. Why would we? It was my generation's September 11th, our death of Kennedy, our Pearl Harbor. Everyone remembers where they were when it happened, or at least where they were when they found out about it. Of course, the difference is that no one's story is that "I was

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-21126518349705983772011-12-08T11:58:00.001-05:002012-02-25T11:18:17.712-05:00

The soccer ball hit my crotch, going at - a conservative estimate - a thousand miles an hour. I knew that was going to happen from the moment he kicked it, but I couldn't move fast enough to get out of the way. If I was a better athlete, I'd be a better athlete. What kind of a stupid system is this, anyway? As I collapsed to my knees, I wondered if any of the guys in the Old Testament had

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-4027285998833907792011-12-06T17:30:00.000-05:002012-02-25T13:28:31.931-05:00

My mom used to talk about the gutters like other parents talked about soccer camp, or family vacation. She'd start out of the blue, on the way to school, or the grocery. Sometimes she'd turn a conversation about anything else into one about the gutters. She never talked about them when anyone else was around - just her and I in the car. "That's what happens to people who don't try, Bryan.

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-3219436896818827882011-12-05T17:06:00.001-05:002012-02-25T16:31:19.702-05:00

Dear, I've been thinking a lot about hammers. It's been my secret, but I'm ready to share now.  No, I haven't taken up carpentry as a hobby, and I didn't quit my job and end up in construction. You know I'm too in love with books and air conditioning for that. However, it's books that are the problem. I've been reading a lot lately, and I can't get these ideas out of my head. My head? I can't

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-17345862942274656482011-12-02T12:50:00.001-05:002012-02-28T12:06:45.371-05:00

My father was a scribe, and his father before him, all the way back to the days before the Dark Lord. When our grim master came, he forced our letters and our learning underground; this was literally, as his spies patrolled the air and land. I learned how to read and write in a damp crevice my father carved out with his own hands, after a hard day of farm labor. We were all farmers then, and

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-89255544397893552762011-11-30T17:35:00.000-05:002012-02-23T16:32:34.145-05:00

Five times a year, I go back there. I don't know why it isn't six or twelve; five just feels right. It's a quiet drive, but not peaceful; although it's only a hundred miles as the crow flies, the mountains make it into a 300 mile squiggle of steep ascents and sudden turns. I thread my car through their twisting gray slopes, like a Parkinson's patient doing needlework. In the winter it's damn

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-31551425744848491672011-09-07T10:32:00.000-04:002012-02-23T16:28:11.117-05:00

A book went missing at my library today. Then this happened. Everything went quiet when the Marshall walked into the dusty, yellow light of the bar. The piano player stopped in the middle of Camptown Races, and the serving girls froze, glasses halfway to tables. The only sound that could be heard was a faint crinkle, so like leaves in autumn.  The Marshall was a tall man, and his hat made

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-4783996097599288192011-09-01T11:32:00.000-04:002012-02-23T16:17:41.768-05:00

I'm planning a trip this Labor Day weekend. Despite a previous bad experience - a nonexistent gas station in the middle of a mysteriously congested nowhere town during a thunderstorm - I'm using Gas Buddy to save money on my fill ups.  However, I decided to check everything out beforehand. It's better to get it all squared away while I'm situated comfortably in my office chair rather than the

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-971450639241879792011-08-01T15:49:00.010-04:002012-02-23T16:15:34.421-05:00

There are only three ways to die: 1.) You find them. 2.) They find you. 3.) You kill yourself. I'm not good at hide and seek, so I chose option number three. Kurt Cobain is a hero of mine, but I couldn't do it his way. Same thing with the Plath solution; I don't think they make gas ovens anymore. Man, famous people used to go out big, or creative. Now it's all pills and pills and

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-68219915598618131642011-06-27T09:22:00.000-04:002012-02-22T09:41:45.935-05:00

No CAPTCHA. That's Arabic. I don't know Arabic. Try again. Am I the only one who can barely make out what the CAPTCHA words are? What supercomputer is cracking this code when I - a living, breathing human, despite what you've heard - have to squint and guess?

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-30708959762178384502011-06-22T12:13:00.007-04:002012-02-22T09:25:39.612-05:00

We're going to slide this wire into your frontal lobe, easy peasy, and after a few moments we'll start to turn the machine up. How does the wire get in there? A needle, dear - a very sharp, long needle with that wire threading through it as thin and strong as spider’s silk. The needle is so sharp you won't even feel a thing. Well, maybe a little pinch. There's a minimum of blood, since your

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-73475220792802874952011-06-17T08:00:00.004-04:002012-02-20T14:22:49.582-05:00

Gallant helps the old woman across the street. Goofus calls her a race traitor for buying brown rice. Gallant waters his neighbor's plants while they're out of town. Goofus takes a dump in their laundry hamper. Gallant reads to the kids at the School for the Blind. Goofus hands out Rubik's cubes at the School for the Blind. Gallant makes his own environmentally safe cleaning products.

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-68684462172318577492011-06-15T14:08:00.001-04:002012-02-15T15:49:48.318-05:00

David Beckham wants you to eat his fish sticks. "Please eat my fish sticks."

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-53373938176231792012011-06-15T13:50:00.002-04:002012-02-20T14:14:39.059-05:00

Did I ever tell you about the time I ate a toaster? I think it was 2003, maybe 2004. It was autumn, unless it was spring; regardless, it was the time of year when it rains more often than it doesn't. I woke up uncharacteristically early that day, before the sun had snuck past my curtains. My stomach hurt, but that's not true enough - I was so hungry, the mere thought of not eating, not gorging

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-79280465488397361742011-05-18T13:51:00.005-04:002012-02-20T14:07:31.551-05:00

Here's one from the yesterday files. It was the start of a new semester, and I needed to buy books. I didn't really need them, as I bought less than half of them last year and came out ahead grades-wise. All the same, my parents thought it would be nice if I tried harder. This meant I needed money. I worked for a temp agency, which was perfect for me. At the time, I was far too neurotic to

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-59125106673236143002011-04-26T11:27:00.000-04:002012-02-20T13:50:37.401-05:00

I’ve raised a monument, more durable than bronze, one higher than the Pyramids’ royal towers, that no devouring rain, or fierce northerly gale, has power to destroy: nor the immeasurable succession of years, and the swift passage of time. I’ll not utterly die, but a rich part of me, will escape Persephone: and fresh with the praise of posterity, I’ll rise, beyond. Are those rap lyrics run

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-38584164843106612802011-03-21T13:16:00.000-04:002012-02-20T13:41:29.313-05:00

It had been weeks since the plantation became my home, since I was stolen in the dead of night by strange men with strange speech intent on forcing me from my bed. I fought and cursed until the smaller one, in heavily accented English, told me he would split my tongue down the middle if I kept squalling. Before I could respond, the larger one turned and poked out a neatly bifurcated tongue at

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-88410015946624447882011-03-08T10:41:00.001-05:002012-02-20T11:37:25.617-05:00

So I was being a huge nerd browsing wikipedia, and I saw this gem: Thanks wikipedia! Because my problem pronouncing "Svirfneblin" came from not knowing which syllable to put the emphasis on, not the fact that the name sounds like an Icelandic man sneezed in the middle of telling me where he lives. Now that I know I'm supposed to emphasize the penultimate one, my life can continue!

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-66339568029623127212011-03-04T15:06:00.007-05:002012-02-25T14:05:29.443-05:00

Daniel Ellsworth’s day would have been better if not for the bird faced demon in his bathtub, as welcome as a herpes sore on a virgin's face. He saw it out of the corner of his eye after he turned the light on, right as he was reaching for his razor and shaving cream. He had bought both at the dollar store last week, where the other thing had happened in the pet supply aisle. The demon was

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-19588982057387398572011-02-28T15:20:00.003-05:002012-02-17T10:10:11.593-05:00

I started to log in to Netflix to add some documentaries about inedia to my instant queue - which tells you all you need to know about my rich and varied social life - and I was instantly stopped by the bizarre spectacle that greeted me. Take a look at the following picture and tell me what's wrong: If you answered, "They're black", you fail everything, forever. Most people don't see

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-25646099410726797562011-02-22T13:45:00.001-05:002012-02-17T10:01:37.471-05:00

Will someone deal with this? If anyone up top sees it, they’ll shit a brick. -lw HP Scanjet 3300C, scanner - FREE [redacted] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: 2011-01-16,2:38AM EST Reply to: 9pd6d-2853744219@sale.craigslist.org -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I wish to God I'd never

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-44666629497546160572011-02-14T07:00:00.001-05:002012-02-20T14:08:41.301-05:00

The custody arrangement I grew up with was the school year with my mom, and every other weekend plus the summer with my dad. As any child of divorce knows, this process is akin to visiting a foreign country - there are new laws, varying customs, and all the people in charge have different names. My dad was remarried, my brothers lived with him, and he had a house with a yard; my mom remained

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-64461260797416616762011-02-10T10:27:00.000-05:002012-02-15T12:07:20.926-05:00

Go to this website and then read this. It's always like this in my head. Always.  Another volley of arrows flew over the wall, black feathered shafts finding their marks among the recruits. Men screamed in death, and those pierced somewhere less vital kept on screaming, turning the city walls into a choir of the damned. Outside, the Dranea shouted in time with their massive war drums. I could

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-33399503973750735662011-01-28T15:31:00.000-05:002012-02-15T11:32:47.245-05:00

The Wall Street Journal headline I saw for half a second while walking to get my free Friday donut (chocolate - yum!) said "Arab Unrest Spreading." It also said something about Egypt below a picture of angry people with signs, the universal symbol for civil disruption. This is where I'd usually make a cheap joke about pyramids, mummies, or - if I was trying to show off my book learnin' - the

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-85885947292767379832011-01-20T08:00:00.004-05:002012-02-15T10:44:15.533-05:00

Skyline is a movie about a group of people you don't like endlessly making the same bad decisions with the same predictable results; it's a lot like going out to dinner with your family. "I wish everyone but me would die," she thinks. In this film, a group of "cool" twentysomethings alternate between hiding from the aliens, running outside with the aliens, and standing on the roof of their

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-87454402239569813962011-01-06T13:59:00.001-05:002012-02-15T09:45:37.927-05:00

While reading an article in the online edition of my local paper, I noticed an ad on the side of the page. I usually don't see ads, thanks to AdBlock and years of training, but I think it was the double pair of staring eyes that did it: Who is this ad meant for, I wondered? Is there some insomniac woman out there, up to her wrinkled eyes in mortgage debt, so hobbled by her bad joints that 

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-82815605166536312942011-01-03T13:35:00.002-05:002012-02-14T11:53:34.727-05:00

Things are gonna change, I can feel it. Happy 2011 As an Earth human, it's time for me to hijack the changing of a digit to buoy my incredibly weak willpower and lie to myself. Like so: This year, this year, things will be different! 2011 will be a banner year for me, and all because it's one number different from 2010! You know, the year I'm already looking at like it was a bad one night stand

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-34338315504767260432010-12-25T16:06:00.000-05:002012-02-14T11:49:40.196-05:00

Do you know what the definition of "epic fail" is? Once, I had a TV that I never used. It was big, heavy, and it took up a lot of room in a tiny apartment. I wanted to be rid of it, but mostly I didn't want to carry it down five flights of stairs. I finally decided to put it on Craigslist for free. Here's the full ad: Yes, this advertisement is for an honest to God free television set. There are

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-87367793379010462212010-12-16T08:00:00.001-05:002012-02-14T11:36:09.846-05:00

I tried teaching the children about Gertie, the nativity octopus, but they were resistant. After a little convincing, they were practically begging me to add other marine life. On the left side you see Mary's best friend, crab, and her other best friends, Manx cat and half cow. If you turn your attention to the lower right hand corner, you see an animal a little girl described as "half-sheep

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-66622643119361014372010-12-16T08:00:00.000-05:002012-02-14T11:33:13.654-05:00

There are a lot of fears I have that don't make any sense, that I've nevertheless struggled with since childhood. I mean, I made up a bunch of hilarious, improbable fears that I totally don't have. Ha ha, what'd I say? Let's pretend I said something else. (Honestly, the truth is somewhere in the middle.) Here's the list. If anyone else suffers from one of these, please let me know. Together we

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-63636937087054024782010-12-13T11:34:00.000-05:002012-02-13T14:10:23.053-05:00

(The events below happened on the morning of Monday, February 16th, 2008, between the hours of eight and nine AM. The names of the humans and animals involved have been changed to protect the innocent) I woke up with the feeling that something bad was going to happen today. Maybe it's because it was Monday, the smelly kid on the bus day of the week; maybe it's because I stayed up too late 

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-26203282259274324532010-12-10T08:00:00.000-05:002012-02-13T13:43:17.111-05:00

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-4857718260042424632010-12-08T08:00:00.000-05:002012-02-13T13:35:37.995-05:00

Sweet Gingerbread God, what have I DONE!?

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-42165655267812475192010-12-06T08:00:00.002-05:002012-02-13T13:33:28.864-05:00

Waterproof Rechargeable Vibrating Massager Really? This is like leaving a baby in the Outback with a shirt that says "Dingoes Stay Away" on it - everyone knows what's going on, but no one's admitting it up front. That's an actual link to the actual Sharper Image site up there, not something from Saturday Night Live. It's totally safe for work. Here's how they describe it: It’s quiet, compact and

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-19123371835872627152010-12-02T08:00:00.024-05:002012-02-13T13:30:33.635-05:00

Do you work at a job where you have to answer the phone? Are the people always wanting things? Do you feel confused, frightened, or hungry? Do you suffer phone related breakdowns, often soiling yourself in the process? If so, don't despair! The constant terror that comprises your waking life is finally over! Here at Blue Sun Consulting, we're developed a list of ten best practices for handling

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-73650822315447527292010-11-29T08:00:00.029-05:002012-02-13T13:21:34.696-05:00

This Christmas season I'll be posting some older stuff. Imma polish it all up, but it'll be more or less the same. If you've read this stuff before, consider what I'm doing a retrospective; if you did not, you're clearly one of the people I despise, and I wish each night for ill to befall you. like this (it's an octopus eating a man's face) This arrangement also gives me time to work on new

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-56360163074016373802010-11-26T08:00:00.010-05:002012-02-13T13:16:49.855-05:00

Who's ready for the answer to our guessing game? Yesterday I showed this picture and asked everyone to figure out what it is: Give up yet? What you're looking at is a big ole'...nasty...juicy...meniscal tear. Which is a thing in your knee. What did you think it was? Read more info here! It's more common than you think, so be kind to your joints. Make sure to stretch before any vigorous

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-82800259276643388532010-11-24T08:00:00.003-05:002010-11-24T08:00:06.270-05:00

Okay everybody, time to play a guessing game. Name what's in the following picture! Answer tomorrow!

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-89935900125702116762010-11-22T08:00:00.003-05:002012-02-13T13:12:56.109-05:00

Bored by the safety of their lives, people all across the world are making up new things to be afraid of. I'm proud to be the cartographer of this new landscape of fear. Coulromoichephobia: The fear that right now, right this very second, a clown is having sex with your wife. We're not talking about gentle lovemaking, either - they're afraid the clown is really giving her the business.  They

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-35204483940117582892010-11-19T11:32:00.001-05:002012-02-08T15:22:20.067-05:00

If you look at it long enough, you realize even the shark costume is sad.

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-83143066242466456182010-11-18T08:00:00.005-05:002012-02-08T15:20:10.713-05:00

"Ma'am, can you tell me where the Asswored plastic cups are?" "A swirled cups?" "No, ASS-wored cups. ASSWORED." "I'm getting my manager." "Good, maybe your manager knows where the cups are. Nevermind, I found them!" Jesus wept.

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-41383776476295361882010-11-15T08:00:00.005-05:002012-02-06T09:52:23.111-05:00

"Oh no," Allison Mack said, "someone's blocked the door to my house with all these bottles of chocolate milk!" "Don't worry," I called out, "I'm here to save you!" "Who are you, mysterious stranger?" she asked, already starting to love me with her eyes. "I am none other than Future Boyfriend Man, sent here from The Future to take care of you." "Like in The Terminator?" "Exactly like that!

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-10719365282601872012010-11-12T10:32:00.009-05:002012-02-06T09:48:18.832-05:00

Everyday conversation is a burden. It's not small talk that's the problem, it's when we pierce the veil of custom and attempt to exchange thoughts with another human. It's a frightening prospect, but there are certain traps we fall into that turn it into an unadulterated nightmare. Thankfully, I'm here to help. Together we can make the world of tomorrow a better, less annoying place! One -

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-72660703722472145752010-11-08T08:00:00.010-05:002012-02-06T09:25:16.694-05:00

I'm teaching children's church for the first time since the Noah's Ark incident. I've had a hiatus of what feels like years, and in the intervening time period no tiny faces have peered at me like I have a dog's head. I danced like a madman at my friend's wedding, and if I can handle that self-imposed public humiliation, being told I can't sing Sunday school songs should be kid's stuff, no pun

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-78394998843903433122010-11-05T09:32:00.001-04:002010-11-05T14:03:23.159-04:00

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-59261522481528073762010-11-02T14:20:00.003-04:002012-02-05T10:44:49.737-05:00

This is a Public Service Announcement. Stay tuned for important information about how I want you to live your life. America is a representative democracy, which is a system of government in which an ill-informed populace employs specious reasoning in choosing a smiling, besuited sociopath to make high level policy decisions about how to ruin everything. Today is the day when voters select just

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-6385079995612868212010-11-01T08:00:00.014-04:002012-02-05T10:12:22.126-05:00

This post will be heavier on pictures than my usual. If you've been transported back to 1997 and you're on dial-up, I'm sorry - this will take forever. In 21st century America, we lack a guiding cultural mythos; the Transformers, Power Rangers, Teddy Ruxpin - these are the foundational truths upon which our ad hoc society runs. In fact, shared nostalgia is the only glue holding things together.

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-9823627741809348042010-10-27T10:38:00.003-04:002012-02-05T09:42:50.651-05:00

The flash drive with the pictures for my next post is at home today, due to an entirely non-made up story involving unicorns, volcanoes, and an escaped Mayan god of the underworld. Enjoy this instead. I have a coworker who's constantly bewildered by spam. Despite his sharp intellect, he won't abandon his Yahoo account. Consequently, he sees a lot of spam. He'll read the subject lines from the

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-28220207138829630802010-10-25T10:00:00.002-04:002012-02-05T09:37:23.098-05:00

personal assistant raptor is eager to please (see: Sponsorship)

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-5890757274925104912010-10-22T03:37:00.002-04:002012-02-05T09:36:14.192-05:00

Google is currently unable to answer my question "Is Taco Bell real?" There are a lot of people asking if it's real meat (or "meet"), or if it's real Mexican food, or if it's really bad for you, but no one else asking if it actually exists. Can someone get on this for me?

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-16695414295636390402010-10-18T22:58:00.008-04:002012-02-05T09:35:22.252-05:00

The Neti Pot was originally a medieval torture implement used to coerce confessions from suspected witches. It's since been repurposed by the modern age as a homeopathic way to clear the sinuses. If you're tired of eating Sudafed by the handful, or you're a meth head with a cold and can't have your name on the government watch list again, a Neti Pot might be for you. At great personal cost (

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-5076187341106525952010-10-18T07:00:00.007-04:002012-02-25T09:07:19.590-05:00

This was originally titled "How Minecraft Almost Ruined My Life." By the time I was done writing it, I felt differently. The title was accordingly changed. One night, what I thought was a a double date ended up as a free for all for the only single girl in attendance. If you've seen the Discovery Channel in one of the rare moments when they're showing nature footage instead of Dirty Crab Boat

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-87459319349179348242010-10-10T12:00:00.004-04:002012-02-05T09:26:54.934-05:00

Today's blog post was brought to you by the internet's own Download a Dinosaur! Since 1999, Download a Dinosaur has been the premier source for downloading dinosaurs. Be sure to check out the eBooks available from Download a Dinosaur. They contain extra raptors, party hats (including five not available on the webpage!), and dinosaur recipes. also this guy! Remember: When you don't know

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-42057361279029642162010-10-09T11:17:00.008-04:002012-02-05T09:25:38.256-05:00

I'm sure everyone has heard the story of Noah's Ark at least once. Once upon a time, there was a man named Noah. Noah only did good things, never bad things, and God liked him quite a bit. Everyone else on Earth at the time was a bit of a tosser, so God decided some water would sort them out. He told Noah to build a bloody great big ark, and Noah did. In fact, it was the best ark ever (Ever hear

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-6595527800660443882010-10-04T14:16:00.003-04:002012-02-05T09:22:21.578-05:00

Sometimes I like to pretend that lunch is the opening sequence for a 1950's TV show: It's Lunchtime! Starring leftovers! Carrots you forgot in the back of the fridge! Office banana! And special appearance by half a cinnamon bagel! Lunchtime is filmed in front of your computer, and supported by the Work Corporation. Work: It's What You Do On this episode of Lunchtime, food is masticated

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-33621108408366094992010-09-29T10:03:00.009-04:002012-02-05T09:18:18.545-05:00

Am I the only one that understands how absurd life is? My current project at work is to find an expert in the field of buying and selling cranes. Cranes. I've lived my whole life without thinking overly much about cranes, yet here I am, trying to find another craneophile to talk with about cranes. This is ridiculous. not pictured: the kind of crane I'm talking about I tried explaining to a

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-51322629940269946532010-09-17T11:23:00.022-04:002012-02-05T09:16:41.449-05:00

I sometimes teach children at the Anglican church I'm a member of. (At least I think I'm a member. As long as I don't show up and everyone's wearing the same t-shirt except me, I'm going to call myself a member; if I do show up and everyone's wearing the same t-shirt except me, I'm going to call the cops.) It's both a wonderful opportunity and a huge responsibility. After all, what could be

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-32308639671150806022010-09-14T22:17:00.009-04:002012-02-05T09:13:01.921-05:00

In my last post, I used the phrase "bear with me." I don't want anyone to think I'm subtly crying out for help because there's a real live bear next to me. That's not the reason for the formatting errors, although that does make a lot of sense. Bears are distracting, and I doubt I could remember what html stands for in the presence of one, let alone employ it. Nevertheless, I'm here to say: no

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-71245306942787473752010-09-14T11:14:00.016-04:002012-02-05T09:12:48.207-05:00

Fighting with Blogger over formatting. It will, of its own accord, change my chosen font, font size, spacing, paragraph structure, and sometimes it eats pictures just because. Maybe pictures are delicious. I don't know. Bear with me until I am an html master, at which point I will write the entire thing in code, then punch Agent Smith so hard I jump out of his chest. UPDATE 09/15: It took me

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-63971536983564144902010-09-14T11:10:00.008-04:002012-02-25T09:49:59.172-05:00

When I was in high school, I had a dream that my school was underwater, with port holes instead of doors. I swam through the dream school, feeling strangely at home in a nightmare combination of my least favorite things. Upon waking, I felt a sense of loss, like phantom limb syndrome. "How can I get back there?" I asked myself. this is Silent Hill if it were underwater Later that day,

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-50116126149915842712010-09-01T12:00:00.010-04:002012-02-25T09:27:08.878-05:00

Swimming is a simple process, with only two easy steps! 1.) Die. 2.) Reincarnate as something than can swim, like a manatee, or Aquaman. I got this, lil' bitch I didn’t learn to “swim” until after I had graduated college, which proved my fears that a swim test was required at every stage of the educational journey completely wrong. (I blame sitcoms.) My dad tried to teach me to

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-7070026109675429252010-07-29T12:36:00.015-04:002012-02-05T09:12:02.890-05:00

I like leaving notes. However, leaving notes is passive-aggressive and doesn't solve the problem. What this means is that I'm left with a lot of notes I'd like to leave, but never will. These hypothetical missives range from one liners like "You shouldn't be allowed to breed" all the way to treatises on common good vis a vis using a damn turn signal like you're something other than Chi Chi the

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-576385819939462228.post-30211342105985672582010-07-29T10:31:00.007-04:002012-02-05T09:11:25.512-05:00

It's pretty easy. You can: Pour bees in their ear. Let it drop that there's a real, live bear in the next room. Tell them you need to talk about something, but not right now. Casually mention you're going to punch them in the crotch. Thankfully, I can prevent numbers one and four at the same time by wearing apiarist gear with a cup. With number two I can opt not to go in the bear room - or

James Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05816984028140769805noreply@blogger.com0