I creep down the stairs to go to the bathroom, unable to hold it in any longer. I must be quieter than I've ever been; quieter than all those times my paranoid brain thought there was an intruder in the house. Just as quiet as all those moments of silence I've participated in (quite a few, really. Most of them at baseball games.) The 4:00 hour is weird. If it were 3:00, my parents would know I was up on the computer, and figure it's summer and not care much. If it were 5:00, they'd think I was sleeping in my bed and woke up and had to go, which would be perfectly acceptable. 4:00 is the inbetween hour, the Korean de-militarized zone of the witching hours (what the hell did I just say?). If I were caught now, my parents would know I was up on the computer and would yell because it was far too late.

I made it down and in safe and sound. Did my business (a term saved for the dog), took a whiff and figured I'd take my chances and flush. Safe. Washed hands. Looked up at the mirror. And that's when the thought donned on me.

Now, I've never considered myself "sexy", nor do I think anyone else has. I have a good personality, intelligence on a multitude of levels, a premium blend when it comes to what's on the inside. But it doesn't come in a good package. Oh well.

That said, I looked up at the mirror, looked at my face and thought "Damn, do I look sexy tonight."

Not sexy enough to be a movie star or male model or something, just generally good looking. Better than normal.

Must be a night time thing. Carpe diem (Jesus, I hope that was the right Latin phrase).

New template. Not because I was tired of the old one, though. Because the old one encountered an error I didn't know how to fix. So new template. Just as well, I suppose.

News sites have been the bulk of my web surfing lately (if my parents knew this, they wouldn't regard my web surfing so pointless, but whatever), but I'm just as clueless as the next person about it all. Whatever. I know the stock market is unstable and that kids all over the US are going missing and we're about to go into Iraq again and all that. Okay then. I'll continue to live in a little state of bliss. Save your news for the fall and the return of Social Studies. Summer is a time of relatives and home improvements and wasting my time on my ass. And enjoying every bit of it.

See what kind of stuff I can work out late at night? I mean, that sounded GOOD. It sounded intelligent despite being utter crap. That's why I think I'd make a good columnist (though Lileks is god).

The truth of the matter is every clock around me says 3:33, I just replaced my boring Windows shell with one from LiteStep, and Hootie and the Blowfish is playing on the built-in Winamp player. And I just put up a new template that accidentally covers up the BlogSpot ads. All hail late night.

Random thoughts. The All-Star Game ended in a tie. Normally, I'd be pissed off as all hell at this. And I am. But it's not so bad, because it made Bud Selig be booed in his own home town, which made me smile. Good times.

If anyone should be glad the game ended in a tie, it's recording artist (questionable) Anastsia, who sang the National Anthem before the game. She botched two lines, and would have made the highlight reel and been the talk of water coolers across the US if the game hadn't ended in a tie. "And the rockets gave glare!" Come on.

Saw Men In Black Two. It wasn't bad, but it certainly isn't memorable. If you're out of movies to see, see it. If you liked the first, see it. Otherwise, avoid it. It went by way too quick, and really wasn't entertaining. Certainly not as good as the first, as it loses all the charm of the first. But it wasn't bad.