2 H 34 (Feb. 03, 2003) - 1:05 p.m.

I'm back again, with the quickness

So yeah, two updates in as many days.
DezzStaarlinn: All right, who are you and what have you done with the real Austin Loomis?
TuxedoSlack: I am the real Austin Loomis. You just didn't know me because you've usually been dealing with the surreal Austin Loomis.

This one's because I managed to ignore the elephant in the room (and that, in turn, was because a lot of that entry had been written in advance). I thought it had been blogged to death, but the ever-wise Badger has a perspective of a man who fears not death:

They died challenging the heavens, doing what they did well and most likely loved to do. They did not (so far as we know) die in a random act of violence, or of a disease that consumed their bodies or their minds slowly. They were not murdered to make a point.

He lists a lot of other ways they could have died before ending up with the sentiment:

Would that all of us could die doing what we loved rather than all the ways time and life find to rot us.

(Okay, he doesn't actually finish there, but everything else is just gravy.)

And remember online quizzes? Me neither; I can't start missing them until they go away. (I've taken quite a few and just never posted the results, but I had to post these.)

If they told you I'm mad, then they lied. I'm odd, but it isn't compulsive. I'm the triolet, bursting with pride; If they told you I'm mad, then they lied. No, it isn't obsessive. Now hide All the spoons or I might get convulsive. If they told you I'm mad then they lied. I'm odd, but it isn't compulsive. What Poetry Form Are You?

(That was actually the second choice they offered me. The first was heroic couplets, and while I'm that order-obsessed [for certain kinds of order], I'm not that goal-directed.)

-30-

last time, on The Slack Shack - our next inciting exstallment