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This is messd up. I'm sitting here in front of the computer, tired like a mother's brother. Eyes nailed shut as I do a virus scan.

But as soon as I stumble into my bed, I'm wide awake. What is going on with me tonight?

So out of desperation to burn off some time, I find myself yet again staring at this stupid blog. My stupid blog.

I'm going to type randomly until something interesting occurs, and if not, well I'll call it a night.

When it comes down to it, what is happiness? To me, it's knowing ones limit, and being able to surpass those limitations to obtain what one does not deserve.

But what about those people who seemingly do not know their own limits, and can achieve great things? Are they any happier or less happy?

Without putting words into their blog (haha, as opposed to their mouths.... nevermind), I think they're only happy when the achieve their dreams. Their missery is the thought of failure - or perceived failure.

Did that make any sense? Probably not.

I love eggs. I had three poached eggs for dinner tonight. In my torrent hunger after my workout, I accidently broke all three yokes while trying to make sunny-side-up. Even as I inwardly cursed at my own clumsiness, the thought of those nice runny, beautiful eggy goodness slithering down into my belly awashing me in a wave of estacy stayed my anger. Went excellent with rice and bit of Maggi.

I am the last of the gym rat. At least in my pack. Without compromising my commitment to stay huge (okay, everyone laugh at once. That was sarcasm at its best, peeps....), I had a massive one and a half hour of grueling shoulder & ab workout. I was all alone, with naught to accompany my madness save the Raptors basketball game. I don't know what I was more upset at; myself for staying until 9PM to workout, or the fact the Raps can't buy a bucket. I think they've once again lost the will to play. It's time for another trade.

So I read that the US forces are stopping their search for WMDs, because um, they haven't found any yet. Might I humbly suggest Mr. Shrub to go scrub himself?? Like Father like Son I guess. I hope he doesn't get re-elected. Wait, I hope he does. I love hating him. But I ain't political like that.

Okay, maybe I should stop writing now, because frankly, I'm stretching here. Stretching like a cat after a lazy snooze in the sun by the bay window. Stretching like a fat chick trying to wear a size 4 pants. Sorry. I apoloize; cylindrically challenged women experimenting with a small sized pair of pants. Stretching like living on ten bucks but it's got to last a month. Well you get the point.

....You can't say I didn't try. posted by losir at 3:04 AM

I think I've figured out a new scam in the Company washroom -- the out of order sign.

In the last two days, I have seen the same sign posted on two different stalls, at various times of the day. To be quite frank, the Company is not exactly known for fixing things in a timely fashion. Afterall, it took them a whole year to fix a urinal....

So I figure some dude made up a sign and recycling it each day so he can hog up a stall for his private use. lngenious really!

....l wish l thought of it first! posted by losir at 11:38 PM

Updated another part of my site. Go to Losir.com and find it yourself.

....Isn't it fun? posted by losir at 9:47 PM

Dilemma of the day.

I saw a dude at work which I haven't seen since last year, well technically. Of course, he's a really good guy so I wanted to go up, shake his hand, and wish him a "Happy New Year."

Unfortunately, he was blowing his nose at full force, so I did the only thing I could think of. I ignored him.

....Why compromise? posted by losir at 5:30 PM

Because I can.

....It already seems like a distant memory; palm trees.

posted by losir at 2:30 PM

Today's one of those days. One of those days where staying under the covers is a good idea.

After coming back from fun and sun, I'm faced with -22 Celcius windchill-factored weather. Where it is so cold, clouds seems to break off in chunks like ice floats in the summer. It is so cold, breath can be recycled by collecting the lumps in a bag, and dropping it off at the local carbon cleansing depot.

I'm thankful for my car. Thankful for my heated seats, and thankful for setting to direct all possible heat to my legs. My feet are as cold as imaging being married, without the ring and tux. I hate my cold feet.

I'm reading "The Life of Pi" on my PDA, and it rocks. I can finally, finally say that I've read an e-book.

....Welcome to the 21st century losir, we've been expecting you.

posted by losir at 2:22 PM

Well a new year has come and gone. So how does it feel to be in 2004?

I tell you what, it feels bloody horrible, that's how. All that non working out has made me flabbier than a juicy slab of bacon hung up to dry and blowing in the wind. Incidently, that's pretty much how much my arm pits smelled after my workout today.

I guess I should talk about my PDA, now that I've had it for about two weeks. It's technology overkill if you ask me. I just need to keep track of phone numbers, contacts, and To-Do tasks at work. I think I could have done just as good with a lower model PDA. But the unit rocks. Nothing beats updating my blog Wi-Fi.

....This was done with a boring desktop machine and keyboard. posted by losir at 8:30 PM