It's a good thing I am a great procrastinator and rather lazy when it comes to my backlog of experiments. The world is probably a safer place.

Ah, the simple joy of taking something apart and - well, that's it. I need an undo-command. Or a real-life "Watson" that puts things back together for me.

I'm basically allergic to grass and I've developed some interesting ways of dealing with sinus headaches, tension headaches and migraines. I love winter - when everything is dead. Please don't make me say it - don’t try this at home!

The world is depressing. I'm sad. So. This. Just go "no pulp" - you don't want to lose any important stuff. Also, don't forget to check the expiration date. If it spoils - it becomes permanent. Not saying that's bad. Just worth noting.

I'll accept methods of compression with a "conduit". But you'll never convince me that a transporter is anything but the most painful way to die. Although, imagine all the fun pranks you could pull on April Fools Day!

Why not? I ran out of ideas. Booooo! I used to sleepwalk and I hate treadmills, but no longer enjoy running outside during the winter. With a 4'10" mom and 5'4" dad - I should be happy. (And yes I sleep in my office.)

I have now successfully learned 300+ ways not to make a good cartoon. I've also learned that apparently the root cause is that I am just as much of an a**hole as he was. Learning is NOT fun.

(b) This is critical in today's world! You don't want a "Somewhere In Time" moment ruining the newly washed and laundered memory areas of your brain! Part, flashback. Part, I think I'm going to need this soon!

First: No - not my thing. Second: I am disturbed - I am giving away for free what will clearly become a billion dollar idea. Third: I honestly can't tell anymore - insanity, coincidence, or ... a very busy day?

When your worst dreams are better than life's best reality? Upon waking up, you wish to just sleep away your worthless existence. I guess THIS can be an okay substitute for a permanent coma absent all conscious thought.

It’s an adding machine. Like the one I begged my grandmother to buy at a garage sale when I was 7. And then took apart. Why? Because that’s what I did. You name it – I dissected it. To see what was inside. And how it worked.

Print. Printer. Printing. Farm. Famer. Farming. There is no greater satisfaction to be had than conjuring forth something from nothing – with only the raw ingredients of imagination. And like a coming mindstorm, there is always a story ... brewing on the back burner. Hay?!? The Folkz have faces!?!