It seems like everything is going subscription-based: toys (loot crate), productivity apps (Microsoft Word, Adobe Creative Cloud), movies/TV (Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime), and so on. I can see the benefits and drawbacks for both the producers and consumers. I’ve tried a few of the afore mentioned services, most of which I’ve dropped. The latest offering on the market is ComiXology Unlimited. It’s a read-all-the-comics-you-want for a low monthly fee service. Depending on your reading interests ComiXology Unlimited is either a’ight or almost worthless. Continue reading “Not Quite There Yet: ComiXology Unlimited”
In the beginning the sun sets somewhere in space, Master Grandpa sits zazen in his rock garden, and a blue meteorite hurtles through the void as meteorites are wont to do.
Master Grandpa is so good at meditating, or so relaxed from the dollar sake bombs at Sushi Sushi Sushi, that he does not notice the blue meteorite as it buzzes past. The resulting explosion does, however, break his concentration, or nap, or whatever it is he is doing in the garden.
Annoyed the blue meteorite has ruined his mellow and destroyed his garden, Master Grandpa collects the damnable thing and lugs it home. There he sets the space rock on fire and forges the burning mess into The Devil’s Sword.
As he pulls the mighty weapon from the fire the blade sparkles with the glory of a thousand gay pride parades. Yet surprisingly the red hot metal does not burn his fingers as he caresses its length. Perturbed, hungover, and likely dehydrated from the events of the evening, Master Grandpa snaps. In his rampage he destroys his hut in a pity party worthy of the most spoiled of sweet 16 birthday monsters, or the Hulk, whichever is statistically more devastating at this point in time…
This morning I slumped into the kitchen, pulled open the refrigerator door, and saw I was out of milk. Perfect! I would have to stop by Starbucks for my morning cup of motivation.
Eh, it could be worse, right?
Saturday, January 9, 2016.
Today Kate moves into her college dorm.
It’s hard to know what I feel right now. I’m proud. I’m worried. I’m happy. I’m hopeful. I’m anxious.
It’s just for a semester, I remind myself.
It’s crazy. She’s not even my kid.