I'm working on something that might act as something of a companion to this blog. I hope you like it.

"I want a baby." -Jane

So The Life Aquatic is kind of a weird movie. Not like, artsy weird, but more along the lines of watching it and going "okay, that was different" weird. I'd recommend it, but wouldn't call it a comedy.

Really great news for Homestar Runner fans with video iPods: Strong Bad Emails are now available on iTunes as a video podcast.

In Ames

Happy Valentines Day. Zefrank once again hits the nail on the head with his video on Valentine's Day.

Woah. As of 6:58 on this very day, this blog has existed for four years.
Think about that. That's like, one-fourth of your life.

Anyway, when I started this blog, I didn't expect myself to update it for a very long time. It'd just be another fad-fascination for myself, kind of like the ten-thousandth time I've attempted to start and keep a journal.
Sure, I don't update every day. But for the past four years, this blog has been somewhere in the back of my life. I think that's kind of neat.

I'm also surprised people read this.
I'd probably still be posting things even if no one ever knew of this blog's existence, but I'm very surprised and glad people read it.

Getting people responding to words on a computer screen has always been odd.
I've gotten emails from total strangers, comments in passing from friends, and even a phone call to inform me that a combination of posts made someone laugh until they cried (you know who you are). And I think that's kind of neat, too.

And I think now I'll take the moment to thank you personally. Yes, you, scrolling down the page on your computer.
I'm not talking to anyone else but you right now. Yes, you. My very favorite person reading this.

So, thanks. Hope you're enjoying these words.

I'm proud to say I've witnessed a performance by the soon-to-be legendary Lil' Pino.

I just got the strangest phone call.
I opened my phone. The number wasn't one I recognized, and the area code was 641. This happens to be the area code for Oskaloosa, Iowa.

"Hello?" I said.
"Hey there babe," a woman that could be in her 50s said. "How's it going?"
I was a bit confused.
"I'm sorry?" I said.

There is a mild pause.

"May I ask who I'm speaking to?"
"This is Tom," I say.
"Tommy?" she says, despite me never adding "y" to the end of my name.
"Yeah," I say anyway, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

"Is Richard there?" she asks. She seems amused.

It's my cell phone she's called. It's unlikely Richard, let alone anyone else, would ever be there.

"No...I'm afraid you have the wrong number."
"Oh dear," she says, worried.
"I'm afraid I have the wrong number, too. I really wanted that number."

She sounded very disapointed. Judging from her greeting of "hey there babe", Richard was probably a ex/husband/lover of her's.

"I'm sorry," I say.
"Good luck."
"Thanks," she says, kind of slowly.
I hang up.

The whole thing could have been a prank, I suppose.

Then again, somewhere in Oskoloosa, I suppose there could be a woman wondering where her babe Richard is.