Things written while wondering why I can't sleep
1) It's the longest last name in history. Not only is his last name 588 letters, but his first name is Adolph (even though he officially went by Hubert), then he has a middle name for every letter in the alphabet. And he has Sr. at the end of his name, which means there is a little Jr. running around out there somewhere with the same name. He was known as Hubert Wolfe, and he would sign his name Hubert Blaine Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorff, Sr. His full name is on the website. I tried to post it here, and it made the thing explode with letters scrolling forever to the right of the screen.
2) This is one of the more interesting music videos I've seen in awhile. It's by OK, Go, and it's just them dancing around their backyard with their song is "A Million Ways." I like the song. This is the type of stuff I do when no one's home. Of course, then it's probably just scary. Scary good, that is. I have tons of rhythm, dammit. (No...on second thought, it's just scary. Scratch the good part.)
Three other things that have no relevance to the previous two...
1) If you don't have a Taco Bell close to your house, you can call 1-800-TACO-BELL to get one. That is really the number. It's genius, simple and I love it. A Taco Bell in my front yard would be nice.
2) Speaking of Taco Bell, my favorite thing is the Chili Cheese Burrito. One is enough to give a large horse a heart attack, but it's so good that it's almost not Taco Bell. I always get a slight twinge of sadness when I travel to another state and find out they don't carry them. Being relegated to a bean burrito makes me feel cheated.
3) I've been trying to think of a third item for the last couple minutes because I can't leave this thing on Taco Bell, so here's a story. When I was in eighth grade, my dad cut me off from being able to use the phone for a little while. I never really was quite sure, but I think it had to do with one of my friends calling the house at 6 a.m. and hanging up as a prank. Yeah, that's probably it. Anyway, after school one day, I was walking out with my friend Jim, and he asked me for my phone number so he could call me about something we were going to do. It was kind of loud but not too loud in the hallway, but because I didn't want to admit my dad wasn't letting me use the phone, my answer was, "WHAT??? I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!" He asked again, and I sort of mumbled something. He asked yet again, and I said, "Uhhhh, I don't remember." He said, "You don't remember?" I said, "No, no, I don't remember." He replied, "What's your dad's name? I'll look it up in the phone book." I said, "Dick. Dick Bradley." He walked away laughing because of the obvious things about the name, but my dad's name is Richard, goes by Dick sometimes, but is listed under Richard. I don't remember what happened after that, but I still have no idea how Dick is a nickname for Richard, or why my dad insists on going by it.
That was the most pointless story I've ever written.