| November 21st; tamed? | |
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PageMaker is driving me up the wall. a LOT. It refuses to do the conversion I want it to do, so I'm having to do some RTF exporting and do some fancy Word macros and stuff. argh.
I know i've not updated for a few days, but I've been really horrendously busy at work and stuff. also, i've been concentrating most of my efforts on the new Transmetropolitan site. It's nowhere near a presentable state (no content, for one!) and the graphics are going to need some help eventually, but it's almost there. Uh. Beer calls. Mustgo. Will update tomorrow. Promise.
"My life is very monotonous...I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But, if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to wind in the wheat..."
Sounds: Chumbawamba, Tubthumping Words: David Brin, Earth
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