I'm going to have a seizure.

The only time that blogger screws up is when I forget to cut and paste my work to a text file before posting it.

Lengthy, largely unfunny column lost to a java exception. I mean, you really aren't any worse off for not getting to read it, since it was about the most boring thing I've written since that time I drank a six-pack of jolt cola and filled 3 spiral notebooks with poems entirely written in binary code:

0110110110100010110.
0101; 0101110111?
01101110111100100! 01010101!
       0110! 0110, 0100110111!!!

Number of girls I was dating when that occurred: zero. And I'm sure you're surprised.

So, it's now September 7th, and I haven't posted since August. Still, you gotta admit, considering in the past I've let you down for months (being a matthearn.com reader is kinda like being a Philadelphia sports fan), I think getting weekly updates of boring crap is a pretty major accomplishment. Even if most of my posts are explanations of why I never post. But that's gonna change, I promise you! I'm taking October off from most of the stuff that keeps me hell of busy, so I should be able to write more frequently. Of course, my life will be so boring I won't have anything useful to write about, but it's not like you come here for quality prose.

Other website-related stuff: apparently one of my various readers came here the other day and got a pop-up ad for a marital aid of some kind. I haven't signed up to have anybody install pop-ups in my joint; has anybody else experienced this? I hope nobody hacked my jaunpiece. I'd hate to have to choke somebody.

So on Labor Day (yesterday, remember? Yeah, you were drunk. Admit it) my sister and I were going through old family albums to laugh heartily at such amusing things as:

• My father's perm, circa 1979. Someday I'll scan those pics in for all to ridicule.
• My mother's Farrah Fawcett-Majors wispy flip things from approximately 1981.
• My sister's mullet from about 1982.

Oddly enough, my hair always looked magnificent.

Speaking of Labor Dabor festivities, this here is the conversation of the week, which occurred yesterday afternoon at my parents' BBQ. It's paraphrased because I can't afford to be recording everything people say to me all the time just in case something is funny.
David T: We're going to revoke your father's "Straight Man License."
Me: Why?
DT: Straight guys are supposed to know all about grilling. That's what they do, operate grills. And yet your father turned off the grill without cleaning it first!
Me: So what you're saying is, a gay man would leave it unclean as well?
DT: No, gay men have the same grilling skills that straight men do. Except afterwards, we garnish.

It's all about presentation.