This is Epth Nation

Epth is a state of mind, not a place. Reading this will give you a virtual drivers license in that state, but you'll still need to be 21 to purchase alcohol. And you can't get any there anyway, so stop asking.

Monday, September 26, 2005

I hate most blogs. Now, I'm not talking about the blogs of people I know, which are interesting by default since I know them. I'm talking about the person I don't know, the person with nothing to say and way too much time to say it. These blogs will often recap the author's daily activities, which often involve boring stuff like advancing agendas and seeing their ugly friends. Now, they aren't supposed to be interesting because they're just informing people of what went on that day. This is good for interested parties, and bad for people who aren't interested. They are a waste of time, and that's perfectly ok.

Allow me to now recap my weekend.

We flew up on Friday night. The Midwest Airlines Dallas-Milwaukee flight may just be the easiest flight in the world. We got to DFW airport, walked into terminal "B" (the terminal for the spare airlines like Midwest), walked right up to the ticket counter and got tickets, walked right through security (who barely even noticed our shoe bombs), our gate was like right there, and we sat down and waited for our name to be called. There happens to be a Starbucks a couple of gates down from there, so my wife was happy. And caffienated.

The fun part about airports is listening to the conversations other people have. For example, this guy straight across from us got out his cell phone and called what I assume was his house. He talked all stupid to his wife or life partner, and then each of his kids came on the phone. It was so touching. If I were a better blogger, I would have remembered what he said. But this was Friday night, and a lot of stuff has happened to me since then. It seems forever ago.

The silliest thing is when people have those headset cell phones (because you need two hands free at all times, just in case some ninjas attack, I guess), and they sit in the airport and start straight ahead as they talk. If that were me, I'd be doing all sorts of stuff with my free hands -- reading a magazine, playing the spoons, rolling my own cigarettes, writing a novel, practicing karate, and many other activities. But that's how I roll.

I wrote a bunch of other stuff, but Blogger ate it. Welcome to the internet age, where nobody can count on anything. I hate --hate-- rewriting things that were lost. I won't do it. I'll continue this later.


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