*** Topic for #icculus.org: Chunky Kibbles, United States Pimp Corp:
*** #icculus.org joshua 1027991609 (from vinge.openprojects.net)
Lock up your daughters.
It's tomorrow. Scary. I'm also taking "The World of Pooh" because Pooh
rocks. More memories, also. Hiya, Cordy. You wanted a mention...
Also, I've got this seriously cool cross-stitched piglet, who's really
Since people don't seem to get it, I like Pooh bear for two reasons:
1) He's a bear of very little brain, a lot like me, and
2) He's always happy. Doesn't really know what he's gonna do in the
next ten minutes, but always enjoys doing it. Yes, that's a precis of
the Tao of Pooh, and yes, I happen to like it.
Just been out shopping for pint glasses, to clarify [mostly for Hendersa &
MikeyP] what decent people drink out of, pip, pip.
OK. Two days, and It seems to be time to turn a little weird about
I've been clearing out my room at home ["home" /a la/ 22 years, not
"home" /a la/ anything else].
Shit, there's a lot of random memories there that I'd just forgotten
clean about. "Dredging" applies to what I've been doing.
I've binned about 6 or 8 black bags of random stuff. Mostly empty boxes
and 15-year-old trash, but some stuff that I just can't justify keeping,
even though I'd never throw it away in a million years if it was possible
to keep it.
I fucking /hate/ getting rid of books. But on the grounds I can't ever
justify taking novels to the states with me [I'm told you have them out
there], and I'd rather mine were read than sitting about on shelves,
I've given away roughly several hundred novels in the last few months.
Only to people who I know will read them, but still...
My posessions have now distilled down to:
1) One cupboard full of stuff. I couldn't bring myself to throw the BBC
Master, and there are probably 10 boxes of "stuff" in them, mostly in
the form of books & other random memories.
2) A pile of stuff that wouldn't fit in my cupboard but I can't bring
myself to throw out either. Not a very big pile, mind...
3) One suitcase of stuff. Things that're coming to America with me,
mostly clothes, about 6 or 8 textbooks, and a few things like Rubik's
Puzzles and teddy bears. Yes, Sara, both of the Poohs are coming with.
4) My juggling toys. Probably about 30 balls, 6 clubs, and 7 rings. I sold
all the rest while I was in York. I miss my unicycle. And my diablo. And
all the clubs I sold, and, and, and... The 6 remaining clubs are in
transit in the same box as my computer. I mean, I /really/ miss the
5) My computer, which is partly in transit, and partly coming in my
carry-on [expect a story here about convincing customs that my hard
drives aren't bombs, and my steel toes really are just steel]
All in all, I've actually started getting depressed and thinking about
all the things I'm gonna miss. Which is soooooo not a good way of moving
forward, but... that's just how it seems to be.
I guess all this shit happens to every bugger at some point in their
lives, but fuck, I've never been a big fan of change, and this has just
really put the shits up me.
[note: old plan entries are all avilable athttp://icculus.org/~chunky/oldplan