My eye hurts. It has a lot of mucus in it. I have no idea why. I also do not know why the ants in my bathroom do not go away no matter how much I dampen the room with "RAID!", or why they are:
1. In the bathroom and not the kitchen where the food would (most likely) be.
2. Not anywhere near the dried listerine, or dried toothpaste, instead choosing to congregate in the shower or march up and down the corners without a bit of purpose.
At first I thought maybe: ok, they just want to be clean. But then several weeks passed and I began to think that maybe they had other things on their mind. Well, they would maybe if they weren't ants and therefore incapable of higher levels of thinking.
So what I have concluded is that I have the world's dumbest, most lost ants living in my bathroom. Resilient fuckers, though. Flying right in the face of Darwinism...I guess the only way to get rid of them is to wait for evolution to turn it's blind eye towards my bathroom and send an extremely short bus to come gather my five hundred idiot ants.

I do not think these ants have anything to do with the mucus in my eye.


Oh, and in other news Kevin Quinn is now getting more publicity than me. Which means I might need a new publicist. Which means I need to hire a publicist, fire him or her, and hire a new and better publicist- all of which will take place without any money changing hands whatsoever because I am fucking broke.

Click here to read the article which I have not read yet and seriously you guys I need a write up or something...

Ok, so I did this over on livejournal in response to one of those meme things that gets posted incessantly (haiku meme to be exact, yeah I know)- I spent so much time on the html that I decided to go ahead and post it here too.

Damn I am good at wasting time. Anyways:

Another Fucking Haiku!
Your name:	crab_stories
Your haiku:	rammed in the crab and the user never takes it out to dinner
Username:
Created by Grahame

oh and ok just to save everyone time...

Look It's Insta-Villanelle!
Your name:	crab_stories
Here It Is:	get a life people its this these crabs today with a surprise a hermit crab i named her the crab abuser did not pinch did they
	marshy was super pissed and clawed his way to ever log table time in the crab abuser get a life people its this these crabs today
	three of the crabs at the adults table during a play in the rules to tell the gender the crab abuser did not pinch did they
	the devil without crabs there would be no old bay they eventually crawled out of the lecture get a life people its this these crabs today
	crabs crab crab p.s crab crabs have been made people get a fucking of seasonings to ever the crab abuser did not pinch did they
	butthead of this blood will show you how to play but super rare breed rather peculiar get a life people its this these crabs today the crab abuser did not pinch did they
Username:
Created by Grahame

and even though it's not technically a poetic form, lets meme the hell out of beat poetry ok:

Free Verse On The Freeverse Freeway!
Your name:	crab_stories
Part 1:	She said that she had put josephine outside- in her cage outside night during a storm barefoot mind you and all
	made clicking noises at me and all lifted their legs and all changed shells right in front of me and all of sudden i saw
Part 2:	what chunk of flesh out of her shell in pure daylight? crab! crab! that you bite right through it fry it up and stick in the butt in a tree stand as he was smoking, crab!
Part 3:	we to this talk about crabs! i don't want to name names here But what devil at the old bay get a fucking of seasonings? But what pinches fifty hermits across belize snorkeling across belize? such vast crab, crab she'll call crab.
Username:
Created by Grahame

And yet somehow computer-generated haikus are still better than 99.9% of the poems spewed forth by livejournal users...oh I guess it's cause computers feel no pain, and livejournal poets feel nothing but. Yeah, that's it.

JOBS I WANT TO HAVE IN THE FUTURE, REVISED EDITION:

1. JOHN EDWARDS'S HAIRSTYLING TEAM, MOUSSE GIRL (postponed til '08, maybe)
2. BECK'S TOURING BAND, PERSON WHO BEATS ON LARGE TIN CAN EXCESSIVELY AND DOES LITTLE ELSE
3. THAT CHICK IN THE ARCADE FIRE WHO YELLS OUT "SHOULDA NAMED YA LAIKA" IN "NEIGHBORHOODS #2" WHICH EVERYONE AGREES, OR SHOULD AGREE, IS THE BEST DAMN SONG ON THAT ALBUM.


Oh and this is only semi-related to the above list, but I think if I ever were in the position to name a slaughterhouse I would name it "Mach 27". Or "The Mach 27", depending on my attitude towards articles at said time.

Here is a picture with a sword in it:



Here is a picture of a happy couple:



the end!

Hartsfield is wearing the stink face let me tell you. I have never seen such a collectively pissed off bunch of travelers, not a group that is leaving atlanta anyways. See the thing is that almost every delta gate had a plane in it. At 3am.
Ok and I am gonna rewind about 8 hours back to when my plane leaving Milwaukee was delayed almost 2 hours due to an "inability" to fly through "tornadoes" hovering around "indianapolis". And as not even remotely interesting as the Milwaukee Airport is- (connecting flights to boise, saskatchewan and fon-du-lac? ok maybe not fon-du-lac but I did see an interstate exit that read "fon-du-lac" with an arrow pointed towards fon-du-lac and now I can't stop typing fon-du-lac and scene) it seemed like a party at chuck-e-cheese when, several hours later, I found myself thousands of feet above land, land you know the place where gravity said do not fly goddammit but we did anyways and now I am in my second hour of rollercoaster turbulance looking out the window and seeing lightening all around me. Ok. The combination of lightening and a giant metal jet sitting higher than anything in the biggest open space ever did not sit well with my rudimentary knowledge of electromagnetic science-mongering. And I was getting a little woozy and not in the good way, rather in the which-annoying-passenger-should-I-aim-the-vomit-at way.
And then of course we landed in Birmingham. What's worse than an unexpected landing in Alabama? An unexpected landing in Alabama when you are not even allowed out of the plane for even a second. But ok the rest of the story is even less interesting, needless to say I arrived back in one piece but it was 3am and now it's even later, and I am pretty sure the Inman Park Festival is going to start directly outside of my window in a few hours.
The Inman Park Festival, the festival that brings me pain which I am pretty sure is the opposite of what a festival should do (except maybe The Pain Festival but even that sounds better than when someone mentions the inmanparkfestival). It all started this time last year when I was not allowed to park on my blocked-off street which led to a string of events which led to the eventual making of "Bear The Movie!" which led to me wandering around downtown atlanta in such a funk that even homeless people were telling me to cheer up.
It is not a good thing when the look you are wearing is such that people who have nowhere to sleep and nothing to eat and are probably sick and in pain are telling you cheer up because life is not that bad.

Ok this is getting long so I will tell all about the wonders of Milwaukee at a later entry- actually I kind of really like it who knew they were almost a port town!? Fuck yeah great five lakes- THEY REALLY ARE THE GREATEST FIVE OF ALL THE LAKES IN THE LAND.

My camera battery completely kicked it about an hour before I left so I did not get any pictures...here are some pictures that have absolutely nothing to do with the aforementioned bit:





(i made that blue dress/more filering/the lamp and the solar system are best friends)

Have you ever thought to yourself "if that voice coming from the television says 'Jennifer Aniston' one more time I am going to find the parents responsible for deciding this particular chain of syllables should exist in the world and run my fingers down a chalkboard because that is the way the name "JenniferAniston" affects me everytime it is said. Rapidly. Over and over. As one word. Because some fucking MTV show has promised miss repeatsalot that with enough plastic surgery she too can look like her idol jenniferanistonjenniferanistonjenniferanistonjenniferaniston! (Either that or lipo's suck the notion of want right out of her soon-to-be-single-chin.)

How are we wasting our time tonight?

1. Exploring the seedy underbelly of MS Paint:



2. Exploring the seedy underbelly of the photoshop filter gallery:
2a

2b


3. Drawing one thing in the time it takes others to draw five:

Before emerging victorious as the ultimate papal champion, the new pope must first prevail in a series of mental and physical challenges. Challenges which have been kept a secret until this very moment.

there is still the possibility that they remain a mystery, and I made up the following list out of my head...such is the mystery catholicism shrouds itself with, that and multicolored smoke wtf


ANYWAYS, WHAT THOSE CARDINALS ARE DOING BEHIND ALL THAT SMOKE, AKA PAPALYMPIC SPORTS:

Rock-Em Sock-Em Protestants

Def-Proverb Jam

Catechismo

Epictionary

Rubick's Trinity

Mass: The Gathering

Red Robe-r

Roman-Roman Wrestling

Break bread, beats

Heads Ascend Seven Ascend

Win, Lose, Or Reform

Truth or Truth?

Seven Minutes In A Few Promotions Away From Heaven

Ready, Set, Begat!

Musical-Right Hand Of God

Dance. Dance. Revelation!

Defenestration of Selves Over Series of Hurdles

InQUIZition Bowl

How Great Thou Art Project?

Pope My Mobile

Trinithalon

Freestyle Slowly Walking In A Row Mumbling To Selves

Cross-Country Cross-Dragging

Tandem Backpedling

Disciple or Decepticon?

Classic Consecration

Hungry Hungry Hypocrites

The Price Is Negotiable

Geocentric Slolem

Limbo

Free-psalmin'

Capture The Catechism

Hide And Go Beg Forgiveness

I think I must be fated (or doomed, perhaps) to watch that movie "Sleepless In Seattle" at least once a week for the rest of my goddamned life. It's not that I even like that movie, it's just the only choice besides golf for us non-cable folks on a Sunday afternoon.
DAMN YOU MEG RRRRRYYYYAAAANNNNN!

(I am of course saying meg ryan the way david cross imitating james lipton says meg ryan on one of his comedy cds)

I spent a good portion of this weekend sleeping, which I guess is not a bad thing in the sense that it doesn't cost anything and who couldn't use a bit more sleep but good lord I was not aware I even had the ability to keep my eyes closed for such long stretches of time. So yeah, friday night= asleep, although on Saturday I managed to pull myself together long enough to attend an art opening at "the contemporary" (the Atlanta Contemporary Art Center, which is where you are when you find yourself completely lost between 500 warehouses on Marietta St.). It was one of those exhibits where (as I whispered to my friend upon wondering whether these logs scattered about the foyer were kindling or part of the show) I was gonna become very indecisive over whether or not I was allowed to sit in a chair because it could be "art". And of course upon hearing "Highway to The Danger Zone" blaring from an adjoining room I said a bit too loudly "hey I bet that's art" lo and behold it was indeed coming from a tape deck atop what appeared to be part parade float/part bed. I declared to no one in particular that I wanted to fasten that art to the back of my car and haul it all about the town! At which point I splashed a bit more wine over my tiny plastic cup, and decided that maybe I was not made to look at art if I can't tell the art from the not art and so we promptly vacated the art for some beers and some food at the earl, all the while I had that poem stuck in my head which reads something along the lines of:
ART IN ART IS ART, ART IN ART IS NOT ART, ETC.
I think it is by a dude named Ad Reinhardt, let me see if I can find a link hold on a sec-
Here it is: Art in Art Is Art As Art.
God what a lovely poem, I had it on my wall at work for awhiles just to confuse the hell out of all my coworkers. Oh those were the days. Now it's time to get back to resizing ads for printing purposes, can't get too far off my intense sleeping schedule.
Until next time...

Last night I did exactly what I set out to do which was to have one drink and no more and then to leave without making any further plans. This was the date I had planned with me, and I have so little planned these days that every time I leave the house it is like a field day for the senses, we go on a field day to the gas station and then- And so I went to the bar and ordered my drink and walked in circles and then talked to just one guy for the remaining hour and never made it to the dance floor and never made it past the bar really. I was talking to this one guy and I was also playing this one strange solitary mindgame, something that stems from last year and the way everyone was last year and I guess in order for it to really work it would actually have to be last year.
It is true I guess, a generalization but pathetically true that they only stare at you from way over there if you are with this one other boy. In order to create complete accuracy in this particular situation I would have to repeat the aforementioned 45 million times with someone different each time. It's both overwhelming and rediculously silly, and made me want to run to ground level and to the car and to the stoplights where I was able to focus on where my head kept drifting.
And so I said goodnight I am going home and all the way I followed some loose ends that still seem just out of reach, The weather made them fuzzy, the fuzzy ends and it's a good thing I have lost all concept of time in the day/night sense otherwise the expanse I am measuring in cigarettes and sentences would collect in my throat and make me say I don't want to move, maybe this place will crash and that would be fine.
I know I am so tired because the edges are even blurrier than usual and soon I think they start dancing.

Earth is the third planet from the sun.
The surface of the earth is one third land, two thirds water.
Three primary colors- using the three primary colors all other colors can be produced (including white).
Atomic Number Three, lithium deuteride, is the explosive material of the hydrogen bomb and may eventually be the fuel of controlled fusion reactors.
Three rocket stages- the number of stages of a rocket necessary to best achieve orbit for heavy loads.
The triangulate is a way using X, Y, and Z values, of determining surface features or one's exact location on an oblate spheroid (like Earth). Triangulations have the property that the circumcircle of any triangle in the triangulation contains no other vertices in its interior, interpolated values are only computed from nearby points.
The Rule of Three formula for determining a patient's "confidence intervals" following a medical procedure (a confidence interval is a range of values for a statistical estimate that quantifies the uncertainty caused by sampling error). If you observe n patients, and none of these patients have an adverse event, then a 95% confidence interval for the probability of an adverse event goes from zero to 3/n.
Kepler's Laws of Planetary Motion reads as such:
First Law- The orbit of a planet around the sun is an ellipse with the sun at one focus. Second Law- A line joining a planet and the sun sweeps out equal areas in equal intervals of time.
Third Law- The Third Law will allow one to calculate the length of a planet's year. The squares of the sidereal periods of the planets are proportional to the cubes of their semimajor axes.
Properties of the Expanding Universe: The equations of the expanding universe have three possible solutions. The three possible types of expanding universes are called open, flat, and closed universes. If the universe were open, it would expand forever. If the universe were flat, it would also expand forever, but the expansion rate would slow to zero after an infinite amount of time. If the universe were closed, it would eventually stop expanding and recollapse on itself, possibly leading to another big bang. In all three cases, the expansion slows, and the force that causes the slowing is gravity.
The "rule of three" in comparativism: Tone test, Text comparison, Verb acquistion.
And the Rule of Three in US Federal Hiring requires managers to select new employees from among the top three available candidates referred to them.
-courtesy of "the internet"

Keeping this in mind, I have arranged the following entry according to the natural order of the universe. Or did it order itself?

Three Bands + Their Possible Corresponding Cover Bands:

I Would Set Myself On Fire For You: "I Would Set I Would Set Myself On Fire For You On Fire For You"

C+C Music Factory: "Things That Make You Go Is That A C&C Music Factory Cover Band?"

!!!: "!!!*"


Three Records That I Acquired Today From Full Moon And Notice How Awesome They Are:



completing the trifecta:

Three Moments In The Life Of A Chair, As Found Living In The Lincoln Nebraska Marriot

I am irrelevent in the following situations:

1. An archaeologist discoveres a perfectly preserved slice of pizza among the remains if an ancient volcano. He then sets about looking for the remainder of the pie.
2. Penguins and what they are doing way out there on the tundra, their migratory habits and whether or not they put their pants on one leg at a time like the rest of the world.
3. Oprah walking into a Barnes and Noble and accidently picking out a book from the oprah book club section.
4. Most of the situations detailed in the fire safety handbook, chapters 4-6.


thank you.

This transcript is called "Kevin Goes To College"

laydehumidifier: hello how are you how was school
laydehumidifier: did you make any new friends?

kevinquinnyo: no
kevinquinnyo: nobody likes me
kevinquinnyo: they made fun of me and broke my new glasses
kevinquinnyo: and threw me in a dumpster

laydehumidifier: no that can't be true
laydehumidifier: well they are all just jealous
laydehumidifier: did you show them your mad basketball skillz?

kevinquinnyo: yeah they popped my basketball
kevinquinnyo: my only basketball

laydehumidifier: sad little flat basketball sad broken glasses sad kevin in a dumpster clutching his trapper keeper and crying softly

kevinquinnyo: and then a big bucket of trash was thrown on top of me

laydehumidifier: your day is bringing me down dude

I bet if I showed up at an Olivia Tremor Control concert with some random "nontraditional" instrument (slidewhistle, kazoo, digiridoo, etc.), they would assume I was with the band and usher me right onstage. Of course I had that same theory with The Polyphonic Spree and a robe, and that did not work. Mostly because I never bothered to show up at the concert. Mostly because The Polyphonic Spree suck so very very much. Fucking robe-wearing hippies, you're nothing more than the dave matthews band hiding behind a concept. (Or 50 of them, as the case may be.)

Here is a picture:


(it is of where to buy clothes in lincoln!)

My weekend, in the form of "list" which starts somewhat chronological but then begins to meander- finally ending up exactly where I started, which is sitting at this goddamn computer:

-seven am wakeup call wakeup you're in the middle of the country and in the middle of the country everyone wakes up in the single digits, everyone is decent hardworking people, everyone is nice but as flat as the terrian i think

-morning at the agency, dull context, moving right along.

-tiny jet to minneapolis but at least i had two seats because I not only wanted to lounge but I wanted to do so with my omnipresent infinite jest, the writing is something i might be in love with, it's like that when two words are back to back so perfect, even more so when they are back to back to back to back for 1000+ pages.

-I have a crush on one of the characters but it's only because i think he is sad, hmm...

-THE MINNNEAPOLIS AIRPORT CAN SUCK IT. MOVING SIDEWALKS ARE NO GOOD IF THEY CEASE TO MOVE AND ARE ONLY SIDEWALKS. I AM NOW PLACING THIS LAYOVER DOWN IN THE ST LOUIS SHITPILE WHO COME TO THINK OF IT HAD NONMOVING-MOVING SIDEWALKS TOO.

-I did not feel at all mary tyler moore it was quite dissappointing because I was even wearing a hat! (which I did actually drop on the escalator by accident, i always was a bit more rhoda so..)

-I had National Lampoon's Two-Hour Flight Home as scored by my attempts to drown out loud crass midwestern brewery-smelling men acting half their age, staring out the window blasting guero. Da Beck!

-I think there was something between then and the next day but I did not make notes so (blank space).

-I was still in Friday night on Saturday morning and like I said before it was spring last year again, extreme savings time? No, just still being out at 7am and then the pauses and then there is the kind of sex where you are both in it for the wrong reasons and you both know this and don't say much about how our year has been because look at what is going on. Doesn't that say enough, I think it does so I leave without saying a word walking a fine line out into an unforgiving amount of busy. I somehow think that pulling my hair back will fool everyone into thinking this is clearly my saturday afternoon outfit, that I would happily join a dressed down world wearing that kind of mascara that requires steel wool to remove.

-The cigarette/whiskey/outallnightbodyfunk combined with either the faint smell of a dryer sheet or lingering cologne will forever remind me of sex, it's always a variation on the same smell and does it make me a terrible person because obviously there should be some sort of buffer between a breakup and rebound.

-But to be honest I thought it was at least days but when I heard more like hours I felt bad but not for what happened. I felt bad because I didn't feel anything at all one way or another because last year was still at least fun if nothing else but this year is not much more than letting time pass around me, something to do with the jetstream I guess.

-Oh and then (I mean just now actually) I felt immature and stupid and I know this year I am whining ad nauseum. Big fucking deal it's paradigms not lifestyles you do not know how happy I was at the end of 2004, or how high the plateau looks from down here I am going to close my eyes and try not to think about it.

-NO MORE PRESTENSE NO MORE BIG WORDS BECAUSE I AM PLAYING IT COOL AND THAT MEANS THAT I HAVE TO LOOK LIKE I DON'T CARE. AND ALSO, LIKE I CAN'T PERFORM HIGHER BRAIN FUNCTIONS. LIKE SHUTTING OFF THE CAPS LOCK.

-I spent Saturday doing nothing of note except some evening family time, my dad and co. so it was all very laid back. I said yes I would love to move to Hawaii and of course it would be great should it really happen and for the first time actually believed it might be.

-This Sunday I am thinking of last Sunday, when I washed the towels to take a shower and the sheets to fill the load, the bed i think smells like dryer sheets I do not know because I accidenly fell asleep on the couch and ran out because I could not believe how time can catch up so cruelly. So I ran out and I was so embarrased because doing nice things is what you do when you want to look like a parasite.

-And yeah sometimes my memory seems too shot to remember to get everything as i go from place to place, is it the welcome sign the tolerated sign or not even bothering to smoke one fucking cigarette, say two words or turn around to say more than stop at the end of the porch you are not allowed god yeah i know.

-Next week I am going to focus on: moving through geography. And not on: moving through time.

-I guess physics just did not teach me enough to do that maybe I should have focused more on history and how we repeat it and repeat it until we are just worn out, watered-down versions of "us". This is horrible high-school poetry/pretense jesus christ why the fuck can't I just say that I am sad. About so many things. And that this is now and it will change. But it's a journal and this is now.

-Sunday night what can you do (besides look back over what you wrote and wince because you want to slap whoever wrote such a steaming pile of emo-kid vomit. cybil? cybil? cybil the movie not the sticom was on earlier but just as background voices, how appropriate)

-Oh and my stepsister bought a hamster and named is Sarah Jessica and it runs around the house in a rubber ball like in "Gattaca" except smaller and more surreal.

-Oh and I am hungry now. Mood: hungry now.

-If you need me I will be saying something that sounds like a plan, but it's really just a list full of big words that say nothing whatsoever.

-Note to self: pick up prescription in morning.

It feels like this time last year all over again. Maybe it's that this time last year is one of those patterns that people keep finding in nature over and over and I will not be able to stop finding this time last year no matter how hard I try to hide behind fall or winter.
Is it possible for something to be so meaningless it actually sucks meaning out of events that have already occurred? Aren't rhetorical questions one of the most fucking pretentious things on earth ever?

I guess when I say this time last year I will just leave it at mentioning fingernails and if you get it then good for you because I sure as hell don't.

Ok well for here and for now and because I didn't have time to upload everything, here are two from yesterday:


the smallest and loudest plane I have ever had the chance to take a sleeping pill and pass out on, the wing.
(hell my seat was on the wing did you think I could sleep unmedicated)


smoking in hotels makes cigarettes better, hotel rooms worse.

Lincoln is: flat.
It is made of: squares and not of crime in the very least.
And also: of carbohydrates.

I made pictures mostly of the hotel room and me in the hotel room and the ridiculous color scheme in the hotel room.

Wow everything is suddenly terrible again, I guess like when I was told I no longer had a job and I didn't know what to say because and there is no because. Because I don't know except that in a matter of minutes everything was suddenly terrible and now I have to finish everything there is to finish and get on a plane and maybe when I come back I can arrange the thoughts that I am looking at but are still nowhere close to reaching my head. I think alcohol is the worst thing ever but then I want a drink sometimes, story of my life with all the crawling back and whatnot.
I should never plan to yell "fuck you" over the phone because I just can't do it, I have all these plans and then I get choked up and whimper something along the lines of having nothing to say. I can't pack Infinite Jest because it takes up half my suitcase, maybe I will just pack the footnotes? I will work on a way to do that.

GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCH IS THE BEST THING ON THE INTERNET: PART TWO!

oh my god you guys nebraska is so much better than kansas I mean look at this shit


vs.


(I am flying to lincoln, nebraska tomorrow morning. I shall return on friday I will be the one looking midwest as all hell.)

GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCH IS THE BEST THING ON THE INTERNET: PART ONE!

(the text is a bit difficult to read, yes, but this is for those who actually know the song so just sing it softly to yourself)

I made a Magic Eye Poster!



(in case you can't see it, it's a magic battle between a shark, a horse, a dinosaur, and a WWI-era german army made up entirely of the cast of "Murphy Brown".)

Feel free to print it out and display it on your wall!

"Hi, I'm Tamara Birch PRESIDENT of American Freedom Mortgage and what the fuck happened to my hair seriously who the hell told me dying it yellow was a good idea and no it ain't blonde it's yellow and I'm here to tell YOU how to wait what-"

I just saw what I guess was the winning harvey birdman dvd commercial. And...

I have been in I guess hiding for all of the weekend. I didn't even realize that the weekend had passed but I guess that's what happens when you have no job and therefore no concept of day to day and also it's what happens when you sleep 80% the better part of two days down the crapper. I can't believe I just wrote "crapper."
Oh and also I have been in the land of no internet and I didn't realize I was there for so long until I left with a door slamming behind me and I didnt mean to but I guess it fit because I didn't even realize.

Earlier during one of my five billion naps I was busy dreaming about watching videotaped auditions to be the next pope. And I knew it was a dream because there was no concrete just parking lots made out of mud and that's ridiculous because it's 2005.
My mind is spinning because I am trying to wrap it around the fact that the pope is not in heaven because heaven does not exist but he doesn't realize it due to lack of conciousness. And no concious person can understand the postmortem state no matter how hard we pray or how many existentialist papers we get passed through some ancient doctoral committee. Concious? Conscience? What the hell?

That show "The Oblongs" creeps me out. I think it's that little girl with the penis-thing growing out of her head. Suddenly I can't wait to move because I am running out of things in Atlanta.

Maybe I will post some pictures next, are you on the edge of your seat?