I’ve heard from tons of WWdN readers that Just A Geek is shipping from Amazon, and is also starting to show up in stores!
I also found out from my publisher that at O’Reilly dot com, they’ve put up an entire chapter of the bookthat you can download and read, and print out, and feed to your pet turkey.
I got my author copies a few weeks ago and, contrary to what you may think, hardcover books are not the best choice for late-night cuddling . . . papercuts and — okay, I’ve said too much already.
I know that it’s not the first time I’ve said this, and it certainly won’t be the last . . . but I want to thank everyone who has read this lame website over the years, and everyone who supported Dancing Barefoot, and Just A Geek. None of this would have happened without you guys.
Rock. \m/

I’m in an art show called SENT that opens this Saturday.
SENT is a phonecam show, featuring work from a very eclectic group of people, and I’m honored and lucky to be part of it. I’ve always wanted to work with Weird Al and Glen E. Friedman, and this is probably the closest I’ll ever get . . . so I’m going to enjoy it. The images I sent (har) are very different from what you usually see in my moblog, and I think they mostly don’t suck.
The opening reception is free, and it would RULE if WWdN readers came out to share the love.
Here’s the info:
Date: Saturday, July 10.
Time: 7-10 PM
Location: The Standard Hotel 550 South Flower Street in Downtown Los Angeles.
The exhibition runs from the 10th until the 17th.

I just got back from an ACME meeting, where my sketch (a hyper-reality sketch about poker “tells”) totally killed!
Last time I pitched, I died horribly. I mean, I sucked out loud. I was that great big sucking sound Ross Perot talked about in 1992 . . . so it was great to get up there and give up some funny. Actually, just about everyone gave up some fantastic funny tonight, and I remembered why I tough it out even when my sketch writing sucks: I’m fiercely proud of the ACME, and I love being around the creative people who make up the company.
I’m currently crushed under deadlines, and trying to spin a thousand plates in exciting patterns, but I’m keeping notes on the numerous cool things that are happening right now. I’ll write them up when I get some of these deadlines behind me.
Until then, here’s a little bit of a poker story I’m working on in my “spare” time:

The small blind folds, and it’s folded to the button, who calls. The turn is the 4s. I think about all the hands I’ve had recently where I got killed: I can’t remember the last time AA held up for me, and I’ve had AK, KK, KJ —pretty much every starting hand from Group 1 and 2 — cracked so many times in limit games, I’m starting to hope for The Hammer. When a draw starts to look good, you know you’re in trouble . . .
From a far away place, someone picks up my hands, and shoves all my chips forward. At the same time, he opens my mouth, and says, “All-in.” The second mistake.

Gotta go. Morpheus is calling . . .

Two years ago, I wrote an entry that endures as one of my all-time favorites.
It’s timely and topical, and (most importantly) frees me up this weekend to hang out with my wife.
Longtime readers will probably remember this, and I hope that new readers enjoy it as much as I do.
Have a great weekend, everyone.

Fireworks
(Originally published on July 5, 2002)
When I was growing up, my family spent Fourth of July with my father’s aunt and uncle, at their fabulous house in Toluca Lake.
It was always a grand affair and I looked forward to spending each Independence Day listening to Sousa marches, swimming in their enormous pool and watching a fireworks show on the back patio.
This fireworks display was always exciting because we were in the middle of LA County, where even the most banal of fireworks