The
title of this site comes from the following passage, as it
struck me as an interesting concept as well as a colourful
phrase when I came across it.
"The
techniques of autostimulation are extremely various.
Just as one can notice that stroking oneself in a certain way
can produce certain only partially and indirectly controllable
but definitely desirable effects (and one can then devote some
time and ingenuity to developing and exploring the techniques
for producing those desirable effects in oneself), so one can
also come to recognize that talking to oneself, making
pictures for oneself, singing to oneself, and so forth, are
practices that often have desirable effects. Some people
are better at these activities than others. Cognitive
autostimulation is an acquired and intimately personal
technique, with many different styles."
--Daniel
C. Dennett, Elbow Room
This
site doesn't have many visitors at the moment, but that will
hardly affect the content or frequency of posts herein.
I hope that doesn't bother you ... like it matters.
You may follow this link to add your own comment, but this is
what another "visitor" had to say
I
have been webmastering my own sites for several years now. (You
could say I've been the master of my own domain.) My
original home site entitled The
World Bri'ed Web is now in its seventh incarnation or
so. I write and record music, and use the site incessantly to
pitch the albums to all few of my visitors. I now invite you
to read my thoughts, rants, tidbits, musings, and brain-rains.*
May your stay be full of fruit.
*Brain-rain:
(n) Not as severe as a brain-storm, and hardly as vulgar as a
brain-fart, but somewhere safely in between.
July 17, 2005 WHEN YOU WISH
It is the end of a very long day. My roommate and I spent our precious Saturday hours not only NOT working, but screaming our heads off on the newly re-opened Space Mountain at Disneyland, on this, the weekend of its 50th Anniversary. The lines were long. The sun was hot. The girl-watching was non-productive. The new fireworks show was no less than five synomyms for "spectacular". And Big Thunder Mountain Railroad did not in any way, shape, or form, cause harm to my body. However ...
I have discovered something about myself; something I'm going to have to come to terms with. Perhaps it's rather embarassing, and perhaps it was bound to happen sooner or later. I've never previously been one to fixate on animated women. All too often I encounter someone with not-so-secret fantasies about Belle or Ariel, and those are perfectly understandable, regardless of how healthy it may be to hold such predilections. These idealized "princesses" are all too perfect, and thus boring.
However, during one of the character parades, I had an experience, the knowledge of which will possibly change my approach to life forever more. Of all the cliched beauties in the Disney lexicon, my obvious choice was made. After all is said and/or done, my choice just has to be the lovely, little darling named Tinkerbell. I don't know if it was the zigzag cut of the short green skirt, or the cute ball things on the slippers; the fairy wings, or the long hair done up. It very likely is, as I keep finding myself looking at images of the animated depiction, the smirky expression and the exotic angle of the fairy eyes. But most importantly, though I needn't even say it, the legs are a drop dead given!
You might think to call me a pervert. Do as you may. I'm merely more comfortable, content in the deeper knowledge of myself. I'm a better person for it.
Although, it may just be slightly shallow of me to take the view that a short, green, zigzag skirt, and green slippers with ball things on them, is going to have to be a prerequisite in the closet of any potential future girlfriend of mine. Or maybe she just has to promise one day to rent the costume and give me the best darned Halloween of my life.
I
have been webmastering my own sites for several years now. (You
could say I've been the master of my own domain.) My
original home site entitled 
July 17, 2005
However, during one of the character parades, I had an experience, the knowledge of which will possibly change my approach to life forever more. Of all the cliched beauties in the Disney lexicon, my obvious choice was made. After all is said and/or done, my choice just has to be the lovely, little darling named Tinkerbell. I don't know if it was the zigzag cut of the short green skirt, or the cute ball things on the slippers; the fairy wings, or the long hair done up. It very likely is, as I keep finding myself looking at images of the animated depiction, the smirky expression and the exotic angle of the fairy eyes. But most importantly, though I needn't even say it, the legs are a drop dead given!