Here’s a happy tale of an oiled-up shit-for-brains who pulled first a stun gun, then a flare gun on a bar worker at closing time. Hey, pal, that’s no way to get one on the house.
Meanwhile, someone at Hostcentric has tripped over the cord again and my main site is tits up. As Hostcentric’s help desk is based in the Subcontinent, I sat zazen for 15 minutes, trying to discern what Buddha might do, but kept bumping up against the cryptic koan, “What is the sound of one lip flapping?” Still, it was more useful than calling technical support, which is like being a blind man at a Bollywood flick. You just know you’re missing something.
