Noisy Balloonist Blog is the apprentice

Certainly there are more important posts, but I just returned from running some errands with a desperate need to urinate.

Huh. It’d be funny if the story ended there.

Anyway, I robotically unzipped and walked to the back of the kitchen. Took me a few moments to realize I was about to pee into the garbage bin I keep inside a tall cabinet, rather than the toilet, which is usually where I put that stuff. This preliminary brush with senility was quite amusing, so I laughed out loud for a few minutes before hitting the head. I suppose it’s better than whizzing in the fridge.

While we’re addressing human waste, I saw Team America: World Police, which mostly sucked. But I’d heard a fair bit about puppet fucking, and there was indeed puppet fucking. Since this was DVD, I was privy to raw and intense unrated puppet fucking. Now let’s be clear: puppet fucking is a-ok. But puppet shit-play? That doesn’t even make sense. Did someone carve the marionette a little wooden colon? Is there a sphincter string?

I bought a TV that’s bigger than God’s wang. See below for size comparison:

For those of you protesting that God is female, you’re probably right. But equipment-wise, God’s definitely a hermaphrodite. After all, she’s God.

This 37-inch, 1080p liquid crystal colossus is so fucking bright it could substitute for a lighthouse. I touched its HDMI the other day. It has two. I think it’s trying to seduce me.

I am vaguely ashamed to possess a thing that so stinks of wealth.

Digital television come in decimals, little shavings of spectrum with names like channel 7.1 and channel 52.3. I was ignorant of these new developments in fractional watching. This means I get the Funimation channel, and that’s pretty sweet. Dubbed. Bah.