I’m cleaning out files on my MacBook the other day. Basically I’m bored and going through old files to see what I find. I opened up the DropBox inside the Public folder and found a txt file titled DearJustinCoxFromAStranger. Imagine my surprise when I realized I didn’t actually create this file. So, I did what anyone would do, I opened it. This is what it said:

Dear Justin Cox

Hello stranger, how are you? I am connected to your computer right now– Don’t worry! I can’t see your personal files or write anything onto your hard disk. I just wanted to write a friendly note, and say I hope your flight out of Seattle goes well tonight. Maybe we’re taking the same flight? We could be friends! If you happen to read this before you board your plane tonight, you should stand up and whistle or something, that way I know who you are. If not, then I hope your travels are pleasant and there are no delays. Have a great night!

*m

If you’re not familiar with Mac security, the Public folder and the DropBox are left open to easily share files between computers. Apparently while I was waiting for my midnight flight out of Seattle, leaving the wonderful world of PAX behind, someone was snooping computers on the network and found Justin Cox’s MacBook — gotta love the simplicity of the default computer naming scheme in OS X. Trying to be friendly they left me a little note. They just didn’t count on me not finding the note for five months. Joke’s on them I guess.

Finding this file reminded me of browsing the dorm network in college. I used to find all kinds of interesting stuff on people’s computers who didn’t realize they were sharing their files with the world. Printing on random people’s printers is also fun but not really profitable. Public safety reminder: in the event you find yourself connected to a dorm network, lock down your computer.

Oh yeah, and if you’re a traveling fool and use your laptop in airports, be sure to check your DropBox before boarding the plane. You might make a friend… or meet a stalker. You never know.

I graduated from The Florida State University a little over a week ago with a degree in Business Administration. I actually don’t have the degree yet. It comes in the mail at some point, or so they tell me. I guess it was pretty cool now, but while I was actually graduating it just seemed like a big pain. Let me put it in context.

The night before the ceremony I was packing until 2am. Four hours of sleep later I was up and getting dressed, amidst the revelation that the ‘Runaway Bride’ made the story up, and heading out the door for Commencement. Three hours later I was back in my dorm moving out. It just seemed like a big mess, but now I’m a college graduate and that is pretty cool.

You could say I’m putting off my entrance to the real world by just a little bit. No, I’m not going on to get an MBA or a law degree, but I am working at the church as the Summer Youth Intern. Basically I get to plan out the summer for the kids and make it all happen. It’s actually a lot of fun and a pretty sweet way to transition into the working world.

On the web side of things, it seems I have a boat load of web pages to be working on of late. There is this one, the old Bryan Hall site, my newly acquired www.JustinCox.com, and two new sites: one for a hosting company and the other for a friend seeking fame as an actress. Look for more information on those once the sites are completed.

I guess you can say I’ve been keeping pretty busy and probably will throughout the summer. Mixed in all the above activities I’m going to be trying to find a job so if anyone has something to offer, feel free to contact me. But that’s my life in a nutshell. Maybe I’ll try and update more often here and actually make this site worth viewing. We’ll see.

As many of you know I consider myself a loyal member of the Parrothead nation and have now attended seven Jimmy Buffett shows in Orlando, Tallahassee, Atlanta and now Jacksonville. I haven’t quite made it to the point where my car turns into a shark and I wear a grass skirt though it really can’t be that far off the horizon. Last night Jimmy Buffett and the Coral Reefer Band played Jacksonville for the first time in almost twenty years and I was there, enjoying every minute of it. But before I get into the show, I’ve got to build up the story.

Sometimes it just comes down to who you know. My friend Kyle happens to work for the State of Florida and has a few connections that reach into the US Department of State. I won’t reveal the full extent of his connections here so as not to get anyone into possible trouble. But lets just say he knows a guy who knows a guy who is the attorney for the Jacksonville Veterans Memorial Stadium. And wouldn’t you know that just happened to the venue where Bubba was playing? Needless to say a request was made and last Thursday afternoon word was passed down the preverbal grapevine that tickets would be waiting at will call for us. Plans were made and around two yesterday afternoon we left Tallahassee for I-10. There were just about a hundred and fifty miles between us and our Parrothead friends.

When we got to the stadium we knew things were on our side as we scored a parking space right next to the exit of the lot. Fighting to leave would not be a problem after the concert. Never having spent more then a fleeting moment in Jacksonville, we had no idea where we could score dinner before the show. What do you do in that situation? Ask a newsman. The guy pointed us to The Amsterdam Cafe right next to the stadium and dinner was had. The cheeseburgers, not quite in paradise but good none the less, seriously showed up minutes after we ordered. These guys were on the ball. Next stop, will call.

Here is where our troubles began. Kyle went up to will call to claim the tickets and was told that there was nothing in the computer under his name but from the sound of who left them, chances was they were in the marketing office. So we went there. These people didn’t really put second thought into it as the names we were dropping seemed too good to be true and when they couldn’t find our tickets either, decided to ignore us. After a frantic phone call to his connection–which resulted in voice mail–another attempt was made at will call with a different teller. This woman seemed to be in a friendlier mood then the first and decided to try all the names the tickets could possibly be under: Kyle’s, Kyle’s connection, Kyle’s connection’s attorney friend. At this point the woman told us to step aside and wait. Ten minutes later she arrived out of a side door with our tickets, Section 101, row B, seats 10-12. It was now only a matter of time.

Once the gates opened we hit up the t-shirt vendor, which was organized madness to say the least. Conversation was made with the woman in front of us about t-shirt selections and, of all things, how to be more visible on a dive boat. Once the purchases were made, it was time to find our seats. We had no idea where they were in relation to the stage as an arena map was nowhere to be found, though from the seat numbers they sounded good. Good is an understatement, these seats were great. Section 101 was on the left corner of the stage and Row B translated to the second row. So there we were, about forty-five minutes before show time and almost close enough to touch the stage. After some small talk with our local security guard, and the realization that people owned tickets to seats one through seven of our row–which didn’t exist–we were ready to go.

Prior to the show, while the owners of the phantom seats were straightening things out with guest services, beach balls were flying across the stadium. There was a little girl, no older then eight, waiting in front of us with her mom while her dad took care of their tickets. Every time a beach ball ended up in our general area (and by general area I mean about a four row radius) it was given to her and in her attempt to spike it into the crowd she would inevitably hit one of us in the face. This little girl is probably the only person in the stadium that was luckier then us last night as when guest services fixed their seating arrangement they ended up right in front of the stage–so close that the girl was able to hand Jimmy, while he was performing, a note she had written him. This netted the girl, upon his return for his first encore, one of Jimmy’s sandals.

Once everyone’s seating arrangements were taken care of, the show began. What a show it was. In typical Buffett fashion he played almost thirty songs, a good majority which was from his older, dust covered catalogue–this made me particularly happy. A few shameless segments, a video tribute to the late Johnny Carson, and two encores–one dedicated to the recently departed Hunter S. Thompson–and nearly three hours later the show was over and it was time to go home. By two in the morning, twelve hours after the journey began, I was in bed attempting to recharge my batteries in time for class this morning. And that is the story of how I acquired Buffett tickets and sat just off the stage and made eye contact with one of the greatest performers of the last few decades.

I have to say, Tallahassee is a much different place that early in the morning. The streets were empty, small offices and store fronts down Monroe towards I-10 were actually decorated for Christmas–it seemed like a very different place then I am used to. At the gas station I usually fill up at, just before getting on I-10, instead of trading pumps with other kids doing the same thing I was, I was trading pumps with blue collar guys filling up their trucks for the day ahead.

When I first got on I-10 the sky was as dark as could be. It was that time of the very early morning after the moon sets but before the sun begins to rise–other then the headlights of the few cars on the road, there was nothing visible. Then somewhere around Madison (I think) the sky changed to a very dark blue–the sun was preparing to rise. As this happened, for about 10 minutes, I was able to see the stars and it was pretty cool. I remember reading somewhere where the author called this time of day “The Magic Hour.” The Magic Hour gave me a strange energy that told me the decision I had made to forgo sleep and make the 275 mile drive home was actually a good one–then came the rain.

Somewhere just north of Gainesville God opened up the flood gates and decided to deliver a torrential downpour upon us. It just goes to show that God is not a fan of Gainesville. The rain was so bad that for a period of about 5 minutes I couldn’t see anything except the tail lights of the car a hundred yards in front of me. But I wasn’t deterred, I just kept on trucking and by the time I was south of Gainesville the rain was gone.

The rest of the drive went very smoothly–I was even able to listen to the Monsters live on Real Radio which is something that I haven’t been able to do since the summer. I arrived into Orlando around 930, 10 and I’ve got to admit, leaving that early in the morning actually made the drive seem quicker and easier to handle. Though as soon as I got all my stuff out of the call I passed out and didn’t wake up again until well after 300.

Now I’m back in Orlando for the rest of the month. Monday will bring me back to the law firm for one last tour of duty. I’ve got all the Christmas festivities to look forward to, Chad’s wedding, the New Year and the Citrus Bowl. Then it’ll be back to Tallahassee for the final semester of my college career. But I’ll leave that all for another day.

So the other day I promised a big announcement–I hope you are ready. I, the one and only Justin Cox and owner/founder/chief author of Lone Palm Creations have made it big time. I have made the jump from online media to print media. So if you all will procure yourself a copy of the New York Times… oh wait, no, that’s next year. But you do have to start somewhere. It’s currently just after one in the morning here in Florida and as I type this, an article I wrote is being printed in millions of copies of the Orlando Sentinel–the local paper for, you guessed it, Orlando. If you can’t see through my sarcastic humor, I am pretty excited. And this is only the beginning. I’m going to continue to write and hopefully, continue to be published until one day, yes one day I too can embellish facts and invent stories like a real journalist–or something like that. Maybe. Anyway, enough bantering. Below is the article that one day will be known as “the one that started it all.” Enjoy it. Oh yeah, and if you don’t believe me, here’s the link to the article at the Sentinel’s web site: Orlando Sentinel

“When College is Easy”
Originally printed in The Orlando Sentinel on Saturday, November 15th, 2003:

In high school all the teachers would say “you better shape up, because college is much tougher then you may think.” Well, I’m currently in my third year of college and I have to disagree. Granted, I have taken some challenging courses while up here, though, for the most part college has been easy.

One of the biggest problems is horrible professors–or more often then not grad students posing as professors. Case in point, last semester I took meteorology being taught by a grad student. He cared more about what we thought of him then the weather and as a result I have no idea what low barometric pressure means but I can make one hell of a hurricane chart. I’m currently taking a law class from a professor who will remain nameless–though does hold a pretty prominent state-government job and looks a lot like George Costanza when he tries on the toupee. This professor, after giving us our first test, disappeared from the face of the planet for not one, not two, but THREE weeks! How am I, a diligent young college student, supposed to learn anything when the professor doesn’t even want to show up to class?

Another problem with today’s college scene is some of the tests–they don’t test students’ knowledge, they test our memories. I’m currently in a class where both questions and answers to twenty five percent of each test are handed out beforehand by the professor. The only catch is that you memorize the answer and write them, neatly, word for word with the proper spelling (which is actually a problem for me because I cannot spell for ship–see, what did I tell you?).

This is not to say, however, that all of my college courses are this easy. I do have some that are quite difficult, where you actually have to think, not to mention dodge the occasional eraser the professor throws when wrong answers are given in class. But this all does lead me to wonder, is college necessary for success? Quentin Tarantino dropped out of the ninth grade. Bill Gates did pretty well for quitting college as did Ashton Kutcher, though I wouldn’t say he’s done anything substantial in his life, except maybe Demi Moore.

But I digress. The point is that college is obviously not challenging us enough. I mean, if it were I wouldn’t be writing this article at four in the morning. Instead I would be studying or sleeping soundly, my mind contently filled with quantum physics or something like that. But until that happens, I’ll make the most of my eraser throwing professors who hand out grades–when they actually come to class.

The long and short of it, the concert was very wet and muddy. Got to love the outdoor shows. A full set list will be added to the Buffett portion of my site when I feel like doing so. It wasn’t the best concert I’ve been to. I was glad to see that Jimmy played some stuff that he usually doesn’t, I enjoy that stuff more. Yes I’m a Parrothead but no I don’t cream myself every time I hear a song off Songs You Know By Heart. I’d rather hear him play “The Wino and I Know” or “That’s What Living is to Me” or “We Are the People Our Parents Warned Us About.” But, it seems like anyone that goes to the concerts anymore have only heard the songs Buffett has on Songs You Know By Heart which is all fine and dandy, but when it comes to other songs that they cant sing along to in a drunken stupor they then talk to their friends and ignore the concert. This again, is all fine and dandy but that prevents the true fans that are there to hear Buffett play, i.e. me, from actually hearing Bubba sing. During this concert I felt something I had never felt at a Buffett concert before, and that was detest. Namely because the one part of Jimmy’s show that I look forward to every year is his acoustic set. I love it because he plays songs that I love and they just sound wonderful acoustically. However this year I didn’t get to enjoy the acoustic set because of the people talking and gallivanting around the lawn section of the concert. I also did another thing that I hadn’t done at a Buffett concert before, and that was leave before the encores. I said at the time it was to beat the traffic as we were in dire need of gas, but I really didn’t want to stick around because I wasn’t going to enjoy them. I kick myself now of course seeing that Jimmy played “Southern Cross” as well as “Pacing the Cage” which I absolutely love, but, that’s the way it goes I guess. The only true saving grace amongst the mud and noise was that after trekking across THE ENTIRE mud covered concert venue in an effort to get closer to where we parked, I ran into Casey who promptly ran up to me which pretty much made my night. If it hadn’t been for her, I probably would have left the concert pretty pissed off and disappointed. So thank you Casey, you made my day, as you do every time I see you. After the concert we went back to my aunt’s where I slept more soundly then I have in weeks.

The next morning we got up and headed down to Orlando. Thankfully the 500 mile drive only took around six and a half hours. To recap I had traveled roughly 750 miles within a 24 hour period. And the weekend was just starting.

In Orlando I had friends from Tallahassee come into town to visit for Easter. Friday night we met up with Earl and Jessica which is always fun. We played Pictionary and joked around till late at night. The next day, we’re now to Saturday, led to Islands of Adventure.

My friends from school all went to the wonderful place known as IOA by us local freaks and had a great time. Lines weren’t horrible and the rides, as always were lots of fun. Every time I ride it, I can’t help but think of how cool the Spider-Man ride is. It’s probably the best ride ever. The day at the park was great. It was made even better because Ryan’s uncle got us all tickets. He came with us and was really a nice guy. This is a big thank you to Ryan’s uncle. After IOA came a well welcomed dinner and the movie Pumpkin which is, to say the least, interesting.

Then came Sunday, Easter Sunday. I went to church–both services–as I do on all “big occasion” Sundays though this time was accompanied by my friends from school. The services were, well, not great. The sermon was horrible and I had the pleasure of hearing it twice. If only our assistant pastor would be given the chance to speak because he is a lot more entertaining that our senior pastor–who thankfully will be leaving in June. At least our church’s Easter tradition of singing the Hallelujah Chorus was upheld. It sounded wonderful.

After church came the Easter festivities. This involved Easter egg hunting, badminton playing, and of course, lots and lots of eating — and some picture taking. Always love the Easter festivities. Then came the ride home.

Now it’s back to reality. The fun is over. I found out that I completely failed my finance test from last week and now passing the entire class could be in jeopardy. Returning to Tallahassee has brought me back to some situations I am tired of dealing with as well as opened me up to more that I have to deal with. Regardless of the situation, the test grades and what not, I always end up getting screwed in the end. But, c’est la vie, that’s life right? Emerson once wrote that “every sweet has it’s sour; every evil it’s good” which was so wonderfully retold in Vanilla Sky. I guess I’m tasting the sour right now. Hopefully the summer, which is now less than two weeks away, will bring something really sweet my way. And to think, I only have to get through five finals first!

Well that’s that. I know this article is a little drab but you gotta write about what you know right? At least that’s what Mark Twain once said. Mr. Twain also wrote the words that inspired Buffett’s “That’s What Living is to Me” that goes: “Be good and you will be lonesome/Be lonesome and you will be free/Live a lie, and you will live to regret it/That’s what living is to me.” Well, sometimes, that is what living is to me. Until next time.

See, I have had quite an eventful… well, week I assume? Last Wednesday night I did something I haven’t done in years (you will notice that I will repeat this statement a few times over the course of this article). What was it you ask? Well here you go, I’ll tell you. I went go-karting and played laser tag. It was quite fun. It reminded me of the days that Q-Zar was still open as well as that go-kart place that used to be next to I-4 at I-Drive which is now a hotel; if you’re from Orlando you know what I’m talking about. But yeah, it was a ton of fun. In laser tag I came in second with like a bazillion points.

Anyway, last Friday night was Mike’s 20th birthday part (Mike of course is my neighbor and future roommate). So, in grand tradition, we threw him a party; but we first took him out to dinner at Outback. Gots to love me some ribs. The party was fun. Mike and Brian sang the Elephant Love Duet, I learned how to salsa dance (kind of), and we made a loud ruckus until early, early the next morning.

That next day, Saturday, unfolded with great fun of its own. It all started with a trip to the Student Life Building to watch Catch Me If You Can which is a great movie. Later that night I played something I haven’t played in literally years–I mean, we’re talking 5 or 6 years here people. There were six of us who got together and turned the lights down low and the volume up and played “Nightmare.” Now, if you don’t know, “Nightmare” is a video/board game where, well, basically you bow down to The Gatekeeper who likes to be mean and make life difficult. He especially loved me. Not only was I his “old one” but I was also his “chosen one.” We did win the game, though it came down to the wire. With 20 seconds left, Caity hit the stop button–but in true fashion, the video started again and ran for another five or six seconds. It was tense but lots of fun.

After the game, now around 2am, we attempted to play “Lite as a Feather, Stiff as a Board” though it didn’t really work out too well. Regardless, the night was still young. A trip to Wal-Mart was in the works and by 3ish we were there, gallivanting around the store. Did you know that they sell Peanut Butter Slices along with Cheese Slices? Yeah, its pretty gross but they do it and evidently people buy it–according to the women stocking the shelves. It’s interesting to note though, that the product line has been discontinued. Funny thing.

Well, as you can imagine Wal-Mart is quite fun late at night, or early in the morning. We all bought fun hats: Fire Chief helmets for the guys and a “Ghetto Little Bow Peep Hat” for Amanda. Matt and I also bought swords for good measure. After Wal-Mart we took our new gear and headed over to Whataburger for breakfast. Needless to say we got some interesting looks from the numerous cops “taking a break” in the restaurant.

Upon returning to campus we decided it was time to capture the moment, which meant taking pictures in the once fun filled but now boring existence known as Bryan Hall. That’s right; it was time to go back. Night Staff is quite friendly at 5 in the morning. It was quite sad, though, that BHall wasn’t as hopping as it was when we lived there. I guess we were the end of an era. Oh well. C’est la vie.

Anyway, after some much needed sleep which didn’t begin until after the sun came up, Sunday brought forth it’s own fun times. Sunday night a bunch of us got together and watched a movie we hadn’t seen in years (see, I told you I’d say that a lot). I bet you’ll never guess which movie it was… Come on, guess… Ok, it was The Neverending Story. Laugh it up, but you know you’d watch it too. It is funny, though, to watch this movie now being much wiser. Bet you didn’t know that The Neverending Story is full of sexual references and innuendos. I mean, just ask Erin what her theory on the Southern Oracle is; and don’t forget about the massive breasts that are featured in about every scene while Bastion is attempting to pass through the first set of gates on the way to the Southern Oracle. Oh it’s fun to overanalyze things.

But yeah, that is where I’ve been for the last week or so. Not to mention the fact that somewhere in there I’ve taken three tests with another on its way. Aint life’s balancing act fun? I’d also like to thank everyone who responded with their support for my last article. I guess I didn’t realize that there was as much support as I had first believed. Anyway, that’s that. Until next time.

SB03 started with a little running around, a field that is. Ever try to play Frisbee at night? No? Well how about with a glow in the dark Frisbee? Still no? Well, let me tell you it doesn’t really work to well. Though, my friends and I had fun trying. There is nothing like running through a large, wet, grass field carrying a Frisbee in the middle of the night being chased by a half naked guy trying to catch you while girls are screaming “kill the man with the Frisbee.” So much fun. Good times, good times. On a side note I’ll have you know that at the end of that night (and by end I mean around 12:45 AM) I purchased The Boondock Saints for only $9.99 at Blockbuster video. Mad props to my man Wayne for finding it for me.

Well, that was the weekend before SB03 officially began. It’s always good to get going early; well, not always but sometimes and in this case it is true. Anyway, the main portion of SB03 consisted of my roommate Brian, my future roommate Mike, my friend Kyle, and I taking a week long trip to the wonderful world called Daytona Beach, Florida. We stayed in a great hotel called the Treasure Island Resort. The room had a full kitchen complete with pots and pans and such, had a balcony overlooking the ocean and, well all the other stuff hotel rooms have. Judging by the view from the balcony and the price we paid. I think it’s safe to say we won this week.

We pretty much spent the week hanging out with all the people in our hotel, who apparently were all from Ohio. We also found it in our best interest to laugh at, well, everyone for various reasons. One girl disserved our laughing at because she was, well, a Swamp Donkey (just picture it). Mike found it in himself to insult a deaf guy, Kyle, well, never mind. My good friend Casey (for those that don’t know Casey and I will be getting married when we turn 30) managed to come over and hang out one evening as did another friend Travis who’s car ended up getting towed in the process. Oh well, c’est la vie. I also managed to fit in an Atlanta Braves Spring Training game. Maddox pitched 4 innings of no hit ball and the Braves went on the beat the Dodgers 5-3.

On Friday, we left the Treasure Island Resort and headed for my house for the remainder of the weekend. The highlight of the final weekend of SB03 was the massive, if not epic, pool part thrown at my place last Saturday night. It was the first ever merging of my Orlando friends and my Tallahassee friends along with my brother, mom and step dad in the mix. It went over quite well if I do say so myself. There were a bunch of people there and I probably could count and give a complete number but, well, I choose not to (it’s late and I’m getting tired). It was a great time. Everyone ended up in the pool at some point, my mom and Caity shared some wine, tons of meat was consumed (except baby meat), and many poop stories were shared. It’s good when that happens because they are funny. Anyway, the pool party was a great cap for a great Spring Break.

I’m just going to end it here.

Fin.

Fun times are always had late at night. However, tonight is not a typical night. I don’t know why, its just not been as grand as the last few nights. You see, tonight was simply a night of studying for a test that is to be taken at 10:10… or about 7 hours from my current point. Why, may you ask am I sitting here writing this then? Well, besides the fact I’m insane, not tired and, well, in the mood to write something, I also just had Taco Bell. And what a sub par Taco Bell it was as well. Usually I’m very satisfied with our late night runs to T-Bell, though tonight (and oddly enough the same feeling was shared with the others involved) the experience was just not pleasing. Oh well. Life sucks and then you die right? Earlier in the night I went and saw Sally Ride speak. For those that don’t know, Sally Ride was the first American female astronaut. It was a pleasant speech, but it wasn’t what I expected it to be. So, now you see why this was a sub par night.

I mean, it wasn’t like last night when we played poker till 3:30 and I ended up winning all the money (we weren’t gambling, we were using all this spare change that Ryan had so, yeah). How do you ask? Well, we played for quite a bit and I actually ran out of money at one point–almost had to bet a sleeping Caity though we split the money back up and started over. Ryan, whose bed we were playing on as well as whose money we were using, who also happened to have lost all his money 20 minutes prior, decided he wanted to go to bed around 3. Novel idea? No. The rest of us wanted to continue. So we decided to play two hands of 7 card stud to end the game. The first hand I was dealt a straight, and the second hand, the one where I ended up winning it all, I was dealt a flush. So, long and the short of that, Vegas, its go time!

If you don’t have a topic, do you ever have an ending point?

Yeah, I guess maybe you do. And it’s now.

Side note, I will be out of town all weekend so… miss me or something ok?

Secondly, I have decided, along with the help of my friend the Supreme Evil, to start a mafia family. I have yet to decide, however, what nationality we will represent, or if any for that matter. It will probably end up being the first ever non-discriminating mafia legacy, unless of course we hate you, then well, you get the idea. I really don’t care how it works out so long as I have power, money, and access to lots of weapons. Because, after all, guns are cool. Not as cool as a Fiery Sword of Justice, but cool none-the-less.

Q. Is Caity responsible for any of this?
A. If by Caity you mean the one whom is middle-nameless and by responsible you mean forced me to watch Boondock Saints, then maybe, maybe not.

This was an eventful weekend, can you tell? Saturday morning I fought, for the better part of an hour, with Ticketmaster.com. Some people prefer to call Ticketmaster by it’s true unholy name, TicketBastard. I’m not going to take sides, but well, yeah. Ticketmaster is the devil and deserves a Fiery Sword up its… you get the idea. Long and the short of that topic is four tickets to April’s Jimmy Buffett concert in Atlanta have been purchased. The things I do…

Q. How fast does you’re mind work?
A. Faster than yours.

A. Yes. I told you so.
Q. Does it always work that fast?

A lot of you have been wondering, due to the general tone of my away messages (and probably fueled by the nature of this article) if I have completely lost my mind. The answer is no… well maybe. I would just like to set the record straight that Eternal Darkness is not a state of being rather a mere videogame. A very cool video game, but a video game regardless.

Anyway, that’s pretty much what is going on here. Spring Break is creeping closer and closer and in turn so is the Buffett concert and, apariently, the Renaissance Festival. So needless-to-say, there’s a lot on the horizon. (Side note: Ethan “Elder” Dickman has again moved. Address available upon request.) So, take care one and all and until we meet again:

And shepherds we shall be, for thee my lord for thee.
Power hath descended forth from thy hand so our feet may swiftly carry out thy command.
And we shall flow a river forth to thee and teaming with souls shall it ever be.
E Nomini Patri, E fili, E Spiritu Sancti.