special guest blogger: frizzant skint... quince!

finally, things seem to be in motion over here. weeks of this guy and his sponge soaking up all my liquor and getting in the way. he seems to have fixed the coatrack/quantum reactor in the corner of my living room and is getting ready to test it out.

although i don't quite understand how it is a janitor knows how to fix something like that. though that may be the least of this weirdness. none of this make sense anyway: janitor engineers who live in a world based on notes i write on post-its and scraps of envelopes hundreds of civilizations from now.

one benefit to all this: the spaceman has been looking for clues and technical notes in my drafts and memos on how the "all'n'one(TM) skintronic station reactor." so i guess it's like having my own in-house editor to read and comment on my work. which can be good, and also can be awful when he starts complaining about how i fucked him with the layer design of the station i described in 'dante in the crabface nebula,' or the mad scientist who discovers that happiness is merely the absence of sadness in 'we cried, we cried harder.'

i'm also responsible for making robots sad. this is what i think a crying robot looks like.

why? because i apparently i created this thing (which i did not, despite how awesome it is)...

...and the rash of robot suicides it caused because of 'me robot, me sad,' where i suggested that those stupid boxes might be a kind of tree of life/apple of knowledge symbol for robot kind.

so in one way, it's great to be read and know you're work matters. it's also awful to know that your work caused so much unhappiness.

although this guy is an asshole, so i don't really feel too bad.