Alternate version of I\'m Your Moon lyrics


Borba\'s transcription of Lady Aberlin\'s Muumuu

The Importance of Being Thimmashetty

Thursday, October 19, 2006

or, Channelling my inner Chris “If Hitler had a speech defect that caused him to pronounce soft G sounds as Bs, he’d call himself a” Berman.
My most recent disappointment has been this:

I knew a guy whom I’ll refer to as Ramesh. Now, for the longest time, I thought his name was Ramesh Thimmashetty, and so in my mind I’d given him a nickname that was, although completely incongruous with his personality or appearance, absolutely perfect: Ramesh “The Machete” Thimmashetty.

And one of my biggest regrets was that I never had the guts to call him “The Machete.” Every time I called him Ramesh, I felt a little guilty for not unleashing the greatest nickname in the history of civilized man.

Then the other day I found out his name was really Ramesh Patel.

Now I’m a little relieved that I never broke out the nickname, but I can’t help but feel a little sad.

Poor Ramesh. Through no fault of his own, he is now 30% less cool.

PS: His real names are not Ramesh or Patel. However, I did think his surname was Thimmashetty.

PPS: Things that Bry judges to be cool do not, in fact, tend to be cool.

Old Whines and Neuroses

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

I’m not sure if this is another series / category yet — I’ll edit that later if I decide to continue.

I don’t know if this happens to anyone else, but whenever I write an e-mail, I have trouble coming up with a suitable subject line. A lot of the time, all I have to say is “Hello!” or something, but I’m always nervous that it’ll get caught by a spam filter or virus checker or something. I mean, if I got an e-mail from an unfamiliar address with the subject “Hello,” I’m not sure I’d open it. More like call in the bomb squad.

To avoid this, I put more and more details into the subject of my messages. An e-mail that would’ve been titled “Hello” gets titled something like “Hello from Bry, who was in your 10th grade English class and this is not a spam so please read it even though it’s not that important and I guess you might as well delete it anyway.” (And then the message body reads, “See subject line. –Bry”)

A certain person, whose birthday is incidentally today, used to send me e-mails with the subject line blank, which was sweet of her, not only because of the e-mails, dear as they were to me, but also because it let me know that I could send her e-mails without agonizing over the subject line. However, Thunderbird, my e-mail client of choice, spoilt this by reminding me every time that I hadn’t included a subject line, did I want to?

Ah well. It’s irrational issues like this that prevent my online-mail-order-ED-drug business from taking off.

Ebooks from eLibrary!

In lieu of a post today

Thursday, October 12, 2006

I have updated my About and Bio pages.

Today: Anatomy of the Win-Loss Record.

The win-loss record usually takes the form of


where X and Y are integers between 1 and 16.

The Dallas Cowboys’ win-loss record is calculated as follows:

X is the number of games the Cowboys have won this season.

Y is the number of weeks, not including bye weeks, during which Cowboys fans demand Drew Bledsoe’s head.

Occasionally, though rarely, the win-loss record takes the form


sometimes known as the win-loss-tie record.

Here, Z represents the number of games in which Mike Vanderjagt misses at least two game-winning field goals.

Aside from the pedals…

Thursday, October 5, 2006

…playing the piano is nothing like riding a bicycle. It is not really something that you can do well after stopping for years.

I have no desire to write more today. My fingers have been through enough.

My next door neighbor is a nice lady, unmarried, possibly a divorcee. She has, I believe, a cat, but only one cat. We figure if we abandon enough kittens at her doorstep, we can turn her into the crazy cat lady, but otherwise I guess she’s safe.

She is, though, the crazy motorcycling lady. She keeps a couple of them, and every once in a while we see some other enthusiasts in her driveway (I hesitate to call them a “motorcycle gang,” mostly because they might beat me up).

I’ve no problem with motorcyclists — I even cheered for one in the last Super Bowl (although he was wearing a helmet then).

I guess my favorite thing about motorcyclists is that I’ve never seen one on a cell phone before.

(Sorry, stressful commute today.)

The best thing about having no readers

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

is that nobody knows when I edit the timestamps to prove I’ve been updating daily.

You’ve been hit by the

|   TRUCK     |
   oo    oo

You have enough time to think, “Wow, that’s the most beautiful truck I’ve ever –” before you bleed to death beneath its wheels.

The following gem just came to me suddenly, and I realized at once that it proves a barrier to my ambitions of novel-writing, for whenever my first book were published, I should flip through its pages with regret, whether regret for not having included it or regret for having included it I cannot tell.


Q: What did the shoplifter take for his upset stomach?

A: Klepto-Bismol.

You may find this post more meaningful if: You caught the hidden bonus pun.

Update: Google, as expected, tells me this is unoriginal. I want to say that I am relieved (and I am), but you wouldn’t believe that I didn’t intend the extra pun.