Check out my new favorite French hip-hop song. Such a nice groove! I'm waiting expectantly for the album to arrive in the mail.

Here is an (poor) approximate English translation of the lyrics:

They met back in school
Between a math class and a spanish class
She was a soccer fan
But he didn't fear balls, it was the goal
He promised rides in a Corvette
But for now, he was stealing scooters
Between them there was always complicity
Stop on a pedestal, a clear dream
If he became triangle, she would be rectangle
The beauty and the bad boy, the triangular rectangle
It's like going from Joe Dassin to Jodeci
A real R&B videoclip drama
She's living the great love, that begins in the court
Continues during tours and always rhymes with 'toujours'
But the context is sronger than the concept
Her man jumps into the flames and showers in them

Refrain
The subsets in the great sets are assembled
The beauty and the bad boy(x3)

The subsets in the great sets are assembled
The subsets in the great sets are assembled
To win money together
Talk without giving the impression of doing business together
And when it gets bloody, they plead God ogether. See.
They were convinving, She was convinced]
To think today that stopping was out of the question
They traffic counterfeit money with Slavic networks
Beat the competition. In France it's a serious offense
Risk for the knobs, he leaves the Baumettes
He has only one trick in mind, it is the search of his Corvette.
Paranoiac environment, the opposing team lags behind
Projectiles go off when a BMW brakes
When she falls, tears drops off his eyes
Two .22 bullets. Twenty two(years old) Goodbye.
The Context is stronger than the concept
Her man jumps into the flames He has to shower in them

As you've noticed, I've not been blogging much. Or maybe you've not noticed, having given up on even looking for new content.

This, despite now again owning a computer.

What's up with that, you ask?

I do occasionally think about things which, in my mind, may be worthy of posting. But I find my bar is higher these days -- things I'll discuss in conversation with friends seems too mundane, or too risque, or too lewd for posting in a public forum.

Like today, during a coffee break, Chris and I were talking. He has noticed a trend over time where it seems the bigger the guy, the harder it is to get him off. I thought back on all my relationships, and this seems to generally hold true in my experience, as well. Why is that? Littler members can be more easily encompassed in their entirety? It is harder to stimulate as great a percentage of bigger members, and percentage of the member stimulated makes a difference?

Had you ever thought about that?

Are you glad you have now?

If not, too late -- it's posted, you've read it, so move on and deal with it already.

But there's lots like that that I'm not posting.

Should I be? Is it better I'm not? Will I feel inclined to again with time? Will I find different content to wrap myself around, given a few weeks or months? Or is my blog doomed to die a slow and painful death?

Tune in next time, when all these questions and more may be answered. Same kat time, same kat channel.

Have you ever lodged a nail in your brain and not noticed it for 6 days?

A Breckenridge construction worker is recovering after going to the dentist for a toothache that turned out to have been caused by a 4-inch nail lodged in his skull. Patrick Lawler, 23, said he was using a nail gun on Jan. 6 when it backfired, firing a nail into a nearby piece of wood. And, unbeknownst to him, a second nail went through the roof in his mouth, and into his head -- about an inch and a half into his brain -- barely missing the back of his eye.

How, how, how do you not notice a nail lodged in your brain? Or at
least the entrance wound, you know?

From the article: "'We just thought it was a big contusion. You get
punched or something, and your eyes swell up, your jaws swell up,
whatever ... We didn't think a nail was hanging out, poking where it
shouldn't have been,' Lawler said."

So he didn't notice because he thought it was like a contusion where
he got punched... but he never got punched! If my eye and jaw was
swollen, all of a sudden, as if maybe I had been punched, and I didn't
remember getting punched, I'd think it might set off alarm bells. I'd
hope.