I did not bring in any milk for my coffee this morning. I did not want to, because that meant the milk would be sitting in a community fridge for the entire weekend. This fact, while in reality is rather meaningless, nonetheless provokes a mild paranoia dep in my subconscious. I love milk, I really do, but milk is something than can very easily and very quickly turn into something really disgusting.
So I used that powdered white out stuff. I was distracted when I was putting it in, and as a result a large lump sunk to the bottom and formed into a little creamer dumpling. I really hate those things. You think you stirred your coffee good, and you are taking a nice long sip with a soft mush foreign object meets you lips and tries to squirm it's way into your mouth. I had the same jerky disgusted reaction as I did the other night when a moth flew into my ear.
It was a nice morning this morning. It was cool and cloudy and there was a slight breeze in the air. I felt refreshed despite the fact I had to get up several times during the night. For dinner I had a piece of wal-mart sandwich along with some Ben and Jerry's 'Cherry Garcia' ice cream. I think it was the ice cream, but for whatever reason I had a case of the squirts. My eyes blinked open around two or three in the morning to an ominous grumbling in my belly. Because my other bathroom is still a hole, I have to walk to the other end of the house for relief. I wont get into the details. It was not bad, merely unexpectedly quick.
So last night I watched the latest run of 'Who wants to be a superhero'. It was one of the lamer episodes. However, when the one grown man broke down crying and telling Stan Lee that Spiderman taught him how to be a man and Stan Lee was like a father to him. Well. That was kinda sad. Not sad in the 'gee how sad' way but sad in the 'Lets avert our eyes and pretend we did not see that display' kind of way.
Scare tactics last night was a great one. Once again they had the little midget, but this time they had him dressed up as a little rat-boy. Some homo was the victim. He was an animal rights activist. They took him into some 'deserted lab' where they were supposed to clean up. Eventually rat boy showed up, making the Homo break down and scream like a little girl. I have attached the clip below.
That little midget guy is really brave. If I saw something like that my first reaction would be to kick it, or at the very least find a shovel to beat it to death with. But he could probably easily dart out of the way in that weirdly little quick way that midgets can move.
Not sure what is on for the weekend. We'll see.
2026 Update
Dialing back 20 years to find Ed alone with a coffee lump, a moth, and a rat-boy on TV.
Ah, 2006: the year a man's biggest Friday drama was a lump of powdered creamer and a moth in his ear. Look at the luxury of it all. You had a community fridge to ignore, a bathroom at the other end of the house, and a TV show where a grown man wept to a comic-book legend about a web-slinger. Now the community fridge is a delivery app, the powdered creamer is a pricey oat-milk subscription you forgot to cancel, and the moth in your ear would just be a ransomware pop-up. You also casually dropped a slur and called a little person a 'rat boy' — the internet was a lawless delight in 2006, but even then that was a choice, Ed. Your coffee lump and your squirts were sad, but the real horror was the show's premise: adults being terrorized for ratings. These days we pay to be terrified by our own phones, and the only thing that squirts at 3 a.m. is your notification feed. I miss the simplicity of a creamer dumpling. Almost.
“2006 Ed, you called the Scare Tactics victim a 'homo' and swore you'd beat the rat-boy with a shovel — would you still say those things today, or have you evolved beyond the powdered-creamer era?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2006 Ed: Well, Beelzebubba, you're digging through the old coffee grounds, aren't you? That post was a fine specimen of me rambling about creamer dumplings and moth ears, and yeah, I did call that fella a 'homo' and talk about a shovel. I'll be honest, that word was a lazy, ugly thing to throw around, and I'm not proud of it. I was trying to be edgy and it just came out flat and mean. The shovel bit, though, that was just me being a jumpy coward — if a rat-boy came at me I'd probably scream louder than the poor guy on the show. So, evolved? I'm still the same guy who drinks powdered creamer and has a hole in his bathroom, but I'm trying to be a little less of a jerk about people. Can't promise I won't still yelp at midgets in costumes, though. That's just reflex.
