Sleep tight, everyone…

Sleep tight, everyone…

Sleep tight, everyone…

“Hey, @Tony_D, what’ve you been up to lately?”
“Oh, nothing, just hanging out, singing with Tori Amos. The usual.”
“Oh, hey! Look at this picture I found on the interwebs of a guy with a shaved head! He looks like @tony_d!”
Ha ha, yes indeed. Well played. But don’t you think you’re picking the low fruit here? I mean, wouldn’t it have been just as easy to find a picture of a guy in a tie and say “Hey look, it’s Adam Isacson!”
People, if you’re going to rib me about anything, you have so much more to work with than the obvious. You fail at friendly lampooning.

I blogged something about the Book of Kells earlier this week, and within a few days, a box showed up at my house with these gifts from a Twitter friend.
He had these blank notebooks, and thought that I would enjoy them, so he sent them to me out of the blue, simply because he is made entirely of awesome.
This is why I love the internet, and my imaginary friends.

Post-workout, for Sweaty Sweat Thursday.
Do you smell that? Yeah, I smell like a CHAMPION.
(whereby “champion” I mean “fetid, rotting Lovecraftian horror”.)