Category: Deeds

Last week I was sitting around with some people in a bar in San Francsico and we were trying to figure out the TSA’s regulations on things on planes.

Snakes are OK, as we know. Solid foods are OK. Laptops are OK, except Dell and Apple laptops on Quantas and Virgin (this because of the Sony batteries that some, but not all, models use).

But what about sort of intermediate things? What about gummi worms or avant-garde culinary foams? I can’t take a can of shaving cream with me, but could I squirt it into a bag and take that? What about oranges? If I take an orange into the screening area, and then juice it, does it suddenly become prohibited? It’s manifestly the same thing, but it’s changed phase to a prohibited phase. Same with ice, really. Since solids are OK but liquids are not, could I bring a bottle of ice onto the plane and let it melt so I could drink it? Would an icee or slurpee be acceptable, or does that count as a liquid?

Crucial issues here, folks.

Scientists have cloned a bear.

A friend of my brother’s is driving across the US on a 50cc Honda Ruckus scooter with a top speed of 35MPH. His entries are absolutely hilarious.

Inspires me to go further on my bike, I’ll tell you that much.

Be safe out there today: don’t put fireworks in your pants.

The cheeks are looking uneven, but overall it’s soft and fuzzy now.

I still don’t know whether to file this under “deeds” or “people,” or for that matter whether it’s an incredibly stupid exercise in self-indulgence.

But then again, what are blogs for?

Does growing a mustache count as an activity, or is it more of a natural process that represents no real achievement? I mean, I’m doing this deliberately, but on the other hand, it requires no real intention, merely patience as my whiskers do their thing.

Sunday was hot and long and noisy and full of wind noise. Every biker in the world seemed to be out. I saw kids in not enough armor on ridiculously overpowered sportbikes, a couple guys in sweaty head-to-toe racing leathers riding flashy Italian sportbikes, and any number of choppers, cruisers, and even a custom drag-racing bike with an extended swingarm and what looked like a nitrous system.

At a gas station in Nashua I asked another biker what was up, and he said “I’m hot, my ass hurts, my fingers are numb, and I’m loving every minute of it.”

All told, I put over 650 miles on the bike this weekend. It was hot, my legs and shoulders are sore, the backs of my thighs are chafed and tender, and I loved every minute of it.

Sunday I went to dinner at the lovely home of the lovely Vieve and there was ham, and Bookdwarf made pie. And yesterday for both breakfast and lunch I had ham and pie. I also ran four miles, so I felt that I deserved it.

The work search is humming nicely, and I hope to leave the rolls of the unemployed before the start of May.

Today, I am a man: I have made my own sausage. With Bookdwarf, of course. The flickr set has notes and stuff. We got our meat from Savenor’s.

Now of course I keep thinking about getting the sausage stuffing attachment. Mmmm, natural casings.

My first thought was “oooh, job opportunity in the biotech industry!” But GenAid Cloning Services is not exactly hiring.