Feeling: goofy
Listening to: Foo Fighters - The One
Reading/Watching: Strongbad skits. Stupid Satan got me addicted.

Everyone in Texas, vote NO to Proposition 12.

It's an amendment that would cap punitive damages in lawsuits. It's meant to cut down on frivolous lawsuits, but the way I see it, that's what the person in black robes behind the special up-high desk is for. Let's make a proposition to bitch-slap scum lawyers who take up frivolous lawsuits instead, hm? Voting goes until September 12th.

Bleh. I'm talking to Lindsy in an attempt to avoid going to bed. He and I have each defined our own special Geekdom, and its accompanying convention.

His is the typical RPGcon, with tons of pale-faced geeks in torn jeans and wrinkled t-shirts running around still wearing their hands-free earpieces, complete with voice-masking microphones, mass trading cheat codes for the new version of Super-Secret-Mega-Cyber-Ultra Warriors.

Mine? Mine is the Spellcon. A scary, anal-retentive geekdom in which people meet in droves to discuss the common misuse of "its" versus "it's", the emergence of the letter "z" in street slang and its abominable usurpation of the far superior "s". Several embarrassed geeks in yellow-and-black-striped costumes hide behind potted plants muttering about how other conventioners stole their garb ideas: "Everybody has to be the fricking Spelling Bee. Geez. Next year I am so going as the Grammar Weevil."

And on the dance floor, where "ABC" and "YMCA" are requested every six minutes, the strobe lights send a few hapless gyrating geeks into seizures, so while half the conventioners run to dial 911, the other half stand around discussing the word "seizure" and how it defies the "i before e" rule.

And the keynote speech? Letter-perfect, of course. "W-E-L-C-O-M-E, M-Y F-E-L-L-O-W W-O-R-D-S-M-I-T-H-S..."

This is going to be such a long night.

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