Monday, November 10, 2003


Please click here for The New Crossbow Project.

Friday, May 23, 2003


Well, nude celebrity photo searchers, The Crossbow Project has far outlived its useful purpose, whatever that was, and will be cyber-expunged come next Tuesday. I've long ago run out of anything resembling creativity, and the thought of posting any more of this warmed-over imbecility makes me cringe with disgust. I'll continue to check out the sites of the few people who read this on any sort of semi-regular basis, and many others who don't, since they possess far more aptitude for this medium than I do, but my blogging days have ended. I appreciate any and all support I've received, and I'll leave you with this appropriate soundtrack to my farewell.

Wednesday, May 21, 2003


No, idiots, I don't have photos of Annika Sorenstam nude. What are you, retarded? No, even a retarded, I mean specially able, person would know that Annika Sorenstam has never posed for nude photographs. So you must be so completely addicted to porn that every synapse in your addled little mind thinks that anyone whose name appears in a newspaper or who is on TV must, in some sort of fame initiation rite, have a portfolio of nude photos taken. Well, let me tell ya, kids, it just isn't true. It especially isn't true with female professional golfers, and it really, really especially isn't true with Annika Sorenstam.

Now, Annika did appear in Sports Illustrated in the February 24, 2003 issue in her underwear, but that's as close as you're gonna get. I know how difficult it must be for your porn-clouded mind to be able to find a copy of this magazine, so I'm going to help you out. It says "Sports Illustrated" in big letters on the cover, and there is a picture of a bunch of guys in Anaheim Angels uniforms playing baseball. Also, Annika is not in her underwear right on the cover. You have to turn the pages. I forget which page it's on, but try somewhere near the middle. If you are coming down off the porn high, and you have a few extra brain cells to devote to the task, you can try the table of contents and look for a story about "Annika Sorenstam". It will tell you which page number the story is on. Then you can use the little numbers on the bottom of each page to find the pictures of Annika in her underwear.

I happen to actually have in my possession a copy of this Sports Illustrated issue. It can be yours for only $5,000, but you have to somehow manage to send me an e-mail and then send me a money order for the full amount, which I doubt very strongly you'll be able to do, since you are probably already in debt up to your ears from subscribing to a few hundred hard-core porn sites with your credit card. But it's available if you want it. You freaks.

Tuesday, May 20, 2003


We're back from Rochester. Let me just say, Physics students are not necessarily of our species. I can vouch for my niece, who is really an Astronomy student, but as for the rest of them, it's anybody's guess.

The photo above is of the Rush Rhees Library on the campus of the University of Rochester, also known by UR students as "the Nipple of Knowledge", where the commencement was held on Sunday. My niece received her Bachelor of Arts Degree in Astronomy with a minor in Film Studies, which nearly guarantees her a spot in the burgeoning food and beverage service industry, at least for a while. If you have a need for a young lady who can produce an engaging television documentary on the Properties of Local Hydrodynamic and Magnetohydrodynamic Turbulence in Differentially Rotating Systems, please use the above e-mail link, and I'll pass the information on to her.

If you happened to be on or near Interstate 476 at about 10-11:30 PM Sunday night, that was me doing Mach 3.6. Sorry for the sonic booms.

Friday, May 16, 2003


The missus and I are traveling to Rochester, NY this weekend to attend my niece's college graduation. One of my brothers and two of my sisters will be there, and I can't decide whether to make cheeky references to Jack Benny's chauffeur or Jane Eyre's employer-turned-lover to show how witty and sophisticated I am.

Ah fuck it. I'll just tell a few fart jokes. That usually works.

Thursday, May 15, 2003


Below is the text of an ad (as far as I can remember it) that runs at least three times per game on every Phillies radio broadcast:

MAN: Come on, throw it in there!

(crowd cheering, Announcer voice-over for Hatfield Phillies Franks)

MAN: Put some mustard on it, will ya?

(more cheering, more Announcer voice-over)

MAN: What a dog!

WOMAN: Knock it off, Fred! The neighbors will call the police...again.

PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP! Three times per game times 162 games, that's 486 times total. You figure I listen to parts of 50 games on the radio every year, so that's 150 times this year I might end up hearing this putrescent ode to processed pork with distinct overtones of domestic violence. I'll pay good money if you can make it stop. I'm not joking. E-mail me today.