Why am I downtrodden? I will never ever get to bed at a sensible hour ever again at any point in my life in the future.
That said, Happy Halloween! I hope you get the shit scared out of you, you punk kids. My costume this year is a bowl of cereal. With milk. I’ll be wearing it inside my stomach. Unless I have a few drinks at the office Halloween party, you know how it is.
Some links to enjoy:
Separately, two interesting sites. Together, ONE HUNDRED PERCENT MINDFUCK.
At this writing, doing a search for “towelhead jokes” on Google will bring up this site as the number one hit. I have already gotten two hits from people searching for “towelhead jokes” on Google. Ironically, the post in question contained no “towelhead jokes” other than the phrase “no towelhead jokes, please”, which in and of itself is not a “towelhead joke” but could possibly be considered one on a technicality – that being that it contains the words “towelhead jokes”, and that the comment was intended to be topical and funny, unlike genuine “towelhead jokes”, which may be topical but are nasty, awful things, unless you are a part of that sub-group which is defined in derogatory terms as “towelheads” and find said “jokes” funny, in which case I say ha ha, dear chap. Ha ha. But I am not about to go making any “towelhead jokes”, and so those who come to my site in search of “towelhead jokes” are going to be sorely disappointed, oh yes they are.
And now, to prove my point that I am not going to make any “towelhead jokes”, I am going to post something that is the opposite of a “towelhead joke”: an hilarious picture of Hall, or possibly Oates, that my older brother would like me to put up so that I can discuss whether or not I would like to have his hairstyle.
You know, I think I *would* like to have his hairstyle. Oh, barber! I’ll have one of those, and hold the moustache!
My hair is long and lustrous and bothering me.
Honestly, I don’t know how you girls and hippies and rock stars do it. After it’s long enough to put into a ponytail, sure, it’s no sweat. But my hair is not quite at that length, and as such, is always totally and completely in my face.
I have not cut my hair in about one year. Why not, you ask? Well, I have no good answer. I thought it might be fun to just let my hair grow. And it has been. But it’s been so long that now it’s almost like a crusade. Like, I’ve gone this far, maybe I should refuse to cut my hair until Bush is out of the White House, or until the war on drugs has been ended, or until God once again walks as a man. But dammit, the top of my head is just a big mass of stringy. So look for a haircut in the coming days.
Dogs will howl and angels will weep solemnly. You may notice. You may not.
Oo-hoo, the time is getting closer
I have decided to keep the Lucas R Hackett Photo Gallery offsite, at Yahoo! Photos, because they will allow me thirty megs of space for images alone, and I’m probably already well over the limit I’m paying for with Pair. I may ultimately have to switch to the next account up, because I’m expecting an increase in bandwidth, baby! I’m gonna be the next “I KISS YOU” guy, Zamfir or whatever his name was. But anyway, yes, I am in the process of making the photo gallery, and it will be very thorough, covering the years when I was just a wee lad all the way through present day, when I am a less-wee lad. And it will ultimately be interesting to all of four people. Or possibly five.
Boom boom shaka-laka boom BOOM!
The website nanowrimo.com is devoted to National Novel Writing Month. They are having a contest in which entrants must write a complete 50,000 word (or 200 page) novel in the month of November. Because I am insane, I have signed up for it. I have no idea what I will write, but I am sure it will suck. And it will probably reduce the amount of time I spend posting here. Not that I ever spent that much time posting here to begin with.
Earlier today, my friend Sarah wrote in to say:
I’ve never merited a single mention on lucubus, and even your ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend gets play. Hmph.
Be careful what you wish for, Sarah…
Hey, everybody! This is Sarah! 
That’s her at last New Year’s, at any rate. Which explains the drink, but not the devious expression. Of course, some things simply can’t be explained.
Hiya.
I have installed a feature called BlogBack, which allows users to add comments after each blog entry. It’s the “comment” link found at the bottom of each article. Use it! Abuse it! Start some flame wars and make me wish I hadn’t installed it! Also, my guestbook could use some more visitors.
The site in this form has now been up for about eight days, and at this writing the counter now shows that the site has 158 hits since 10/14/01. This is by no means acceptable – I intend to get out and whore this site like crazy once things have settled a bit – but I’m fairly certain that I’m getting more hits on average than I did during the page’s previous iteration. Granted, a good number of those hits are from me. But the fun part is I can now go through and see what service-providing domains people have been using to view my page. Right now nwu.edu (which is where I, and several of my friends, work) is in the lead with a whopping 41% share. A good 33% are IP addresses with no domain apparently attached, and in third at 7% is buckeye-express.net, which, I believe, would be my younger brother. Thanks, Tim! I also seem to be getting an unusually high number of hits from lilly.com, which as far as I can tell is not a service provider at all but is somehow involved in the production and/or distribution of psychotropic drugs. Which, while curious, is not entirely inappropriate.
I have also put up the site FAQ, or “Frequently Asked Questions” list, for those of you who are internet-initial impaired. I shall confess here that few, if any, of the questions in said list have actually been asked once, let alone often enough to constitute “frequently”. But the purpose of most FAQs is to be a preemptive strike, to put all the answers to the obvious questions in one place, where newbies can read them and hopefully get their questions answered. So, it is in the spirit of the preemptive strike nature of FAQs that my FAQ was written. Also, it inflates my sense of self-importance, which is always a good thing.
All that’s left to put up are the site map, my gallery of photos of myself which shall run the gamut from gorgeous to hideous, and a webcam image archive. After these are up I’ll be sending the big “Hey I’m Relaunching” email to everyone I know. If you’re already reading this, then obviously you know I’ve relaunched, but you’ll want to get the email anyway because I’m sure that it will be quite clever and entertaining. After all, it will be of the same quality you have come to know and expect from every aspect of the Lucubus!
No jokes, please.
An introduction is in order.
This is Nick.
Those of you who know me well will no doubt recall Darian, my ex of some years back. Nick is Darian’s current boyfriend. When I was in Beavercreek a couple weeks ago I had the opportunity to hang out with them, as they were also in town. And as it turns out, it was not nearly as awkward as it might have been.
This is Nick and Darian. Darian is being a spaz.
Nick sits around in his bedroom and makes electronica on his computer. He’s got a music download page at MP3.com. I have found his music to be very entertaining. I particularly recommend the track “Nick Notis”.
Another notable fact about Nick is that he is like totally super duper tall.
Okay… I’m probably, once again, the very last person to be in on this meme, but I saw this site for the first time last night and thought it was pretty funny. After the WTC attacks on September 11 a picture circulated purporting to have been taken on the observation deck just before the first plane hit, and allegedly was developed from film in a camera that was found in the rubble. Of course, the picture is an obvious fake:
Somebody came up with the clever idea of taking the fellow in the above photo and inserting him into other famous photos, as seen here:
Some person decided to put a collection of these photographs online, and thus was touristguy.com born. It has a rather large gallery, and most of the altered pictures are just famous movie posters with the guy’s head pasted in there somewhere, which isn’t really all that funny – it’s pictures like the above, where he’s just there in the background, that I find to be more humorous. Enjoy!
Manipulating images RULES
Every so often, Warren Ellis on his forum asks regulars to contribute logo-esque images for him to use on the forum’s start page. I don’t know how “regular” I am (I don’t get much fiber), but I made a few. And here they are. Enjoy.
1. Geometry.
2. Science and technology.
3. Political satire.
4. El Greco’s interpretation.
(That’s Warren Ellis’s face on there, if you couldn’t figure it out.)
Hooray!
Another update
I have uploaded a bunch of new drawings to the “Weirder” section of Drawing Is Fun. Hence, all the links that were inactive there are now active. So go and look at my little drawings and ooh and aah and ask yourself, “Is this Art? Or is it all just Piffle?” I drew most of them at work, if that’s any indication, but I don’t count them as “doodles” because I had a specific plan in mind when I drew each one of them.
Here’s a sample of the fine work to be found there.
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| The Roman Aqueducts |
Astonishing.
Well, I do this from time to time. I fell asleep as soon as I got home from work today, at about 5:30 PM. Usually when I do that, however, I wake up just as the televison program I wanted to watch that night was about halfway over. This time, however, I slept for a good solid eight and a half hours, waking up at 2 AM, which is a lot more sleep than I get in the average night. Yet, strangely, it still feels like the same day, unlike when I go to bed at 2 AM and wake up at 7:30 AM. I’ll probably go back to bed soon, even though it looks like Heavenly Creatures will be playing on the cable in a few moments, but I won’t watch it no I won’t I won’t.
A faithful reader using the enigmatic nom de plume “your former health aid” wrote in, using the comment form at the bottom of the page, to inform me that I have conjunctivitis (pinkeye) and to seek medical attention immediately. Thanks, mysterious stranger! In the meantime, everybody stay away from me, because I’m a walkin’ toxin. Definitely no butterfly kisses. I am starting to wonder if there is any illness that I don’t have. Lately I have been collecting them as if they were Pokemon. I guess it’s relatively safe to say that I don’t have cancer, or AIDS, or Down Syndrome, or male pattern baldness (yet), or whatever illness Rush Limbaugh has that has caused him to lose all hearing in one ear and eighty percent in the other, assuming it wasn’t simply caused by listening to himself on a regular basis. If that were the case, Dittoheads everywhere would be purchasing hearing aids and saying, “Eh? What?” and blaming it on Clinton.
My hypochondriac ass and I will be returning to sleep now.
I admit to having some trouble with my eyes. I can see okay, but check this out:
A beautiful pair of baby blues, you’re thinking. No, that’s not the problem. Malformed eyelids? No, that’s not the problem either, and shut up, I’m sensitive about them.
For the last few days, the eye on my right/your left has been as red as Hollywood in the 1950s. Redder, in fact. It’s a bit like the results of an EKG were written directly onto my eye with a needle or something while I was asleep. Those of you who know me well will know that I am somewhat squeamish about eyes, and I have patiently been waiting for this redness to go away, lest a paranoid and hysterical public brand me as a mutant and put me into one of their special camps. However, admiring my handsome self in the mirror tonight, I realized that my red eye was one flaw that could no longer be ignored. Also, the redness has been so bright that it’s been difficult for me to sleep lately. So I rooted around in my medicine cabinet and found an old bottle of eyedrops that had been left behind by one guest or another many, many years ago, a bottle which I had kept for so many years just for an occasion such as this. So, still looking in the mirror, I unscrewed the cap, positioned the bottle over my eye, and squeezed… and a drop fell onto my chin. I realized then that I had my non-red eye squinted shut, which threw off my depth perception, but I couldn’t seem to get it right with both eyes open, either. Ultimately I decided to look up at the ceiling, hold the bottle a foot or so over my face and randomly squeeze out drops until one happened to land in my eye, and then another, time permitting. And so I was successful in this endeavor, yet I continue to wait for the desired results.
As I wait, I consider the possibility that Dennis Quaid is travelling around inside my body in a tiny ship, and the redness has occurred because he has shot a tiny video transmitter into the center of my eye so that he could see everything I see, which would in some part allow him to help build up my self-confidence in talking to women and dealing with dangerous situations. In return, I’ll do my best to get him back to the laboratory and out of my body before his oxygen supply runs out.