Electronic Crack

First and foremost, I would like to point my readers to today's episode of Penny Arcade - a fine example to follow, I'm informed by Michael, if one's so-called "friends" ever attempt an "intervention" again. Go Red! Coincidentally, Blue also reminds me of the time my Sour Skittles addiction earned me some fairly cockeyed looks. Back in the day, at the end of my sophomore year, when my electrical engineering prowess was fueled by the rainbow goodness of Sour Skittles, I was consuming up to one small package each lab session. Naturally, this meant I had to prepare for my 3-hour final accordingly - and so I brought two medium-sized bags (coincidentally, enough to numb my tongue). Let this be a caution to everyone to be aware of where they are sweeping the residual sour sugar off to, as over the course of the final, I managed to coat six pages with sour sugar, which I absently swept off the page and consequently into neat little rows at the top of my desk that resembled nothing so much as little lines of crack cocaine, and despite my efforts to explain, my numb tongue failed me.
That's the thing about numb tongues, really - they're almost never a good thing (insert naughty comments here - I'm sure you all have your own). Except of course, when you're trying very hard not to offend anyone.
This week, I found myself unwittingly in a household of conservatives, where I discovered that sometimes there is nothing better than following the sound advice of "shut your hole" lest ye offend.
On the work front, today I attended a quarterly review meeting - which translates to "3+ hour long stuffed shirt meeting with some EXTREMELY boring marketing segments." Reminds me why I never want to be a business major. I then secured lab bench workspace and some old-looking equipment for circuit testing. Unfortunately, I still need to swipe a scope from some unsuspecting fool on a coffee break. That's a job for Monday.
No puking in the car ride back to the East Bay, thankfully - though at the moment, I've currently got a quick-draw barf bag rigged up should the occasion (and bile) arise. Perhaps someday, along with airbags, vehicles will one day release barf bags with equal accuracy and speed - I can always dream, though I can certainly claim that I prefer dreaming of more pleasant things. Speaking of dreaming, cutting the bedtime Cheerios from my schedule seems to have done the trick, as I did not dream of a drunken ratcatcher, per se. At the very least, it seems to have put the dignity aspect back in my dreams, though I can't say that it's managed to eliminate the "naughty" aspect, as last night's lucid dreams were an entirely different experience altogether. What my mind is telling me, I'm not sure - unless it's telling me I need more leather or a more interesting earring.

Further bulletins as events warrant.