is going to suspend himself over the thames river in jolly olde england for 44 days in a glass box.

reuters is reporting that the new york street magician, best known for banging the likes of madonna and josie maran will attempt the stunt on september 5 of our lord 2003.

“We are all capable of infinitely more than we believe,” Reuters reported blaine of saying. he will have no means of communication, no food, and it will be his first major “illusion” outside of the usa.

there will be one plexiglass tube for water, and another for his urine, the article stated, adding that brit tv will telecast the event live.

what on earth could they do with a guy sitting in a box for 44 days?

make it interesting and that would be magic.

splink fucking rocks

heres my astrology for next week.

i dont know what it means.

Libra Horoscope for week of August 21, 2003

“You have to recognize the demons or else they’ll annoy you like mosquitoes,” poet James Broughton told interviewer Jack Foley. “But if you acknowledge their existence, if you say, ‘All right, here’s a cookie, go sit in the corner,’ then you can go about your work and you don’t have to go into depression because of it.” I suggest you follow Broughton’s advice, Libra. Neither ignore nor over-indulge those pesky voices in your head.

the only demons that i have are the ones that tell me that i dont f good, write well, or do my job as good as my coworkers.

the hottie from the other night wrote me a short little email the next day saying

you are very very good.

that should hopefully keep the demons at bay for a week, but you never know.

then the instapundit linked me the other day, something he doesnt do that often, and he linked the longest post ive written in a long time.

so his acknowledgement should f with my demons for a little while as well.

and then i got a good review a few weeks at work, so the xbi is covered.

therefore i dont know what mr. brezney is talking about.

i know my house is messy, but thats certainly not a demonic deal that i worry about.

very interesting.

maybe the astrology is telling me that i need to think about things that i have pushed so far down that i am in denial about them being demons in my life.

hmmmmm.

i do have some loose ends in the dream job department, but those things are pretty much out of my hands, therefore no need to worry about them.

clipper girl isnt talking to me, neither is her cousin, but cheerleaders are as tempermental as the stock market, so no need to worry about that.

and the cubs are the cubs. theyre doomed to fail.

maybe astrology is full of it.

maybe i need to find out who im going to see the muffs with this weekend.

maybe thats the worry i have smooshed down and forgotten about.

this is what happens when you write too much in one day.

go read doc searls who is on fire talking about his mom + or sk smith who’s just plain rad

i think you might see me here

KROQ’S INLAND INVASION III

Glen Helen Hyundai Pavilion, September 20th

The Cure

Duran Duran

Hot Hot Heat

Dashboard Confessional

Interpol

Echo and the Bunnymen

Violent Femmes

Psychedelic Furs

Fountains of Wayne

Bow Wow Wow

General Public

Marc Almond of Soft Cell

Berlin

Dramarama

and they beached the fucker the other day and tried to lie about it, but one of my buddies was vacationing in marsailles and sent me this picture and said isnt that The Ilka II?

and yes it was her, all tilted and bouncing in the surf, so i called up the frenchies and i said wtf bitches? and they snivelled and said that there was a terrible storm and i said too bad, take care of the shit, you break it you own it and they started yelling at me in french and i said i will come over there and i will fuck your shit up and they were all, come on out here and you know what i did, i flew chopper one out there after work yesterday and i landed it in their backyard in the middle of the night and i kicked down their front door and i said daddys home motherfuckers.

and right away they surrendered like cheap trick.

they wrote me a check for like a million euros and i flew back home, so forgive me if i dont write a lot today, im tired.

chopper one has a really good auto pilot mode but youre not supposed to flick it on and fall asleep cuz its what the manual calls “unsafe.”

but i have had the best girlfriend that im ever going to have, ive had the best sex that im ever going to have, ive had the best head im ever going to get, and ive even had the best teen girlfriend im ever going to get.

the only reason for me to go on each day is to try to stay alive long enough to watch the cubs win the world series.

and as long as the Tribune Corp owns my team im screwed.

so i flicked on the autopilot, told the cd player that i wanted to hear my Air mix tape, and i snoozed my way across the atlantic.

like a pimped out superhero’s supposed to, chienne.

some people dont sleep well as their black helicopter is hurdled through the pre-dawn darkness on autopilot invisible to radar and jets and etc., but i sleep very well.

and oddly its the only time that i dream consistantly.

last night i drempt that i was back on this stakeout that we’d been on last week.

it was outside of a construction site. i was noticing how all the construction workers were actually giving all the women a really fair assessment.

it didnt matter what the woman looked like, the fellas would give them a good look-see and after they passed by they would say to their associates good things about one part of the body or the other.

as piggish as it was, it was actually open-minded and forgiving.

then i woke up.

jack + dougie + dean + katie’s hot new do

this is supposed to be the year.

they keep on getting these scrubs like kenny lofton and tony womack who arent bad and its not like theyre not trying, they are trying.

and randall simon was the hardest guy to strike out last year and im glad they got him too.

but we need a-rod.

why should the yankees get everyone?

i just finished Moneyball, and i dont finish many books, but i took my time with that one and i loved it.

it taught me to look at life differently.

Moneyball shows us that the best way to follow baseball is to not watch it too closely, so when i was at the ball game the other day i took pictures of pretty much everything other than the game.

im not quite sure thats what the book was talking about, but it was a great book.

i’d like the author to follow the Cubs next year and explain to us why its going to be another hundred years before they win the world series.

im hungry. im thirsty. i think i have a bowling date with karisa tonight but she’ll probably wuss out because she fears my mighty bowling prowess.

the last time we went she got me hammered and beat my ass and she keeps reminding me that she beat my ass and wont let me forget it.

i dont even remember the game i was so drunk.

moneyball was written so clearly that it made the narrator seem invisible. it just told the story. yes it was slanted towards one side but its an amazing story: how you can spend a fraction of what everyone else is spending on players and beat their ass repeatedly.

now i know why theyre not going to re-sign miguel tejada.

if i go bowling with karisa tonight im going to beat her by 100 pins. and then i’ll drink.

i know i always say that and i know she always ends up getting me drunk but i have will power.

i dont but lets pretend i do.

i like it when people say that i have the coolest blog going.

if i dont go bowling tonight i will update the front page, and i will look for a new stat program.

the one i have doesnt do averages very well.

the last two days the blog has gotten on average of about 3,500 hits. one day it got 5,000 hits.

the average day in the busblog i get about 1,000.

but those two days out of 200 shouldnt bump the average to close to 2,000. the average is like 1,250.

i like site meter, ive had them forever, but their numbers cant be trusted. im not as popular as the average says i am and i know i get more hits than the daily stats say.

and karisa, if youre reading this, im going to beat you by 100 pins with an 8 pound ball.

virginia + flagrant + how i didnt catch a home run ball