During the old days, back in Bridgeport, we would often wonder what kind of cigarettes Jesus would smoke. Some had him on Marlboro Reds, some on the odd Class C Russian tobacco I kept in the freezer. Turns out… It's Marlboro lights.

P.S. This entry reminded me of this classic which seems to only live on at the WayBack Machine.

P.P.S. If you haven’t, visit the Nilzeroer

I discovered yesterday that the New York Times has a Twitter feed. (What are those supposed to be called? Feed? Tweet? Twit?) Every so often it's updated with a top headline of some form or another. This is a good thing, seeing Old Media embrace New Technology - without placing ads in a 160-character message. They even use TinyURL to link to the story.

Twitter is automatically set to send updates to my phone. I’m sure I’ll consider this a good and helpful things when I have friends on the service. Yesterday, the thought of having NYTimes news sent to my phone automatically sounded like a great idea. This could be awesome for cocktail chatter over a glass of pinot noir at Ocean Drive, or some other delusional after-hours fantasy.

And it worked out for a while. Then I went to the Ben Gibbard show at Town Hall NYC. Pure awesomeness, by the way. To begin the encore, Gibbard covered All Apologies on the piano and ended by playing "a cover of a song I wrote" (Such Great Heights, as in the Iron & Wine version). During the show, my pocket would vibrate every 25 minutes or so, annoying the hell out of me as I didn’t want to interrupt the atmosphere with the bright screen.

Of course, I could have just turned it off. That would probably have been smart. My addiction to being connected at all times is something I’ll have to cover later.

This arrived in my inbox this morning. Not particularly terrible.

After numerous rounds of "We don't know if Osama is still alive," Osama himself decided to send President Bush a note in his own handwriting to let him know he was still in the game. The President opened the note, which appeared to contain a single line of coded message: 370HSSV-0773H.

Bush was baffled, so he e-mailed the note to Vice President Cheney. The Veep had no clue either so he sent it to his buddies at Haliburton for them to decipher it. After a few hours (at a reasonable hourly charge to the taxpayers) the great minds at Haliburton gave up. They e-mailed the note to the CIA, which couldn’t decipher it either. CIA sent it to the National Security Agency but no one at NSA could crack it. Finally, with no ideas and the President anxiously awaiting a solution, NSA asked Marine Corps Intelligence for help and sent the message to them…

In a matter of seconds, the Marines cabled back: "Tell the President, he's holding the message upside down.”

Yes, they're finally demolishing the New Haven Coliseum tomorrow morning at 7:30. Events at ArtSpace began an hour and a half ago, and will continue until 8 tomorrow night. Free parking and “refreshments” (I assume this is coffee) will be available at the top level of the Temple Street Garage. I might just go and watch...

Now that I have an Intel-based Mac Mini with Parallels, I no longer have a need for a PC laptop (used mostly for Linux play and IE site testing) Therefore, the Inspiron 8600 I bought earlier this year is now on eBay.

It's about time! 11/22 is getting closer.

Finally!

(From Tyan is better than your boyfriend)