FAQ 9:07 PM

What does your website title mean? And why "lynC"?

I had a hard time coming up with a title for this site (I have a hard time making up my mind), but since most of my ideas had a "c" word in them, I decided to merge all my ideas and call it "the capital C". My "c" fascination started when a friend of mine spelled "nice" with a capital c, and that pretty much triggered the habit to write my "c's" in uppercase. The name "lynC" stemmed from an earlier self-given nickname "link", which has different interpretations, but the most prominent are:
1. A torch formerly used for lighting one's way in the streets (fire is kickass).
2. A connecting element; a tie or bond.
I altered the spelling to match this site, and thus the current alias.

Does anyone else work on this site?

No, I do all the writing, layout, coding, and images.

Good stuff. Can I link to your site?

Go ahead. As an incentive for the doubtful, you'll receive an autographed photo of my naked butt if you do.

LOL!!!!11 r u serius @ the butt thing?

No.

Why are you so anal about proper spelling?

becuz im perfekt ad perfekt ppl alweys spel corecktly. All seriousness aside, proper spelling and grammar are an essential part of good writing. I love writing, so I'm going to do it right.

Do you love me?

Are you one of the following?:



Then the answer is yes!

If you had to choose a theme song for your life, what would it be?

"Through It All".

Got a (decent) question relevant to this site that you'd like to see answered here? Write me at lynkedd @ gmail dot com (remove spaces).

Mr. Nice Guy 8:52 PM

Trapped in this stuffy armor, this armor that I willingly put on for protection against the world, I breathed a suffocated prayer.

A prayer against frustration, a prayer against anger, a prayer for patience, a prayer for compassion, a prayer for peace.

Lord help me.

My Father 9:10 PM

Since Father's Day was yesterday, I feel like I should take a moment to acknowledge one of the world's greatest dads. Now I know most of us think our dads are the greatest, but in this case, what I mean is that he's the greatest to me. I wouldn't have any other man to be my father.

My father takes time to enjoy life. I've got great memories of playing with him as a kid, and one thing I admire about him is that he's never too busy or grown-up to take the time to play with and give attention to his children.

My father is sacrificial, almost to a fault. Putting others' needs and comfort above his own has been his creed ever since I can remember, and I want to be just like him in that regard.

My father is understanding. There's hardly anything I can't talk to him about. He normally takes things in stride, and his candid comments after a talk are always an added relief.

My father has a simple sense of humor. In his almost distracted way he's pulled off funnies that have become classics in my hall of comedy.

My father has a true love for the people he lives and works with. Whenever we move to a new country, he does his best to learn the language, customs, and manner of the people there. He truly becomes one.

There's much more I could say about him, but for the sake of brevity, I'll end here.

Jerry, you're the best dad for me. I'm sorry for those times when I made life difficult for you, when my pride got in the way, and when you had to deal with my eccentric, rebellious, and bad attitudes. But all in all, I'm proud to have a dad like you, and I count it a privilege and an honor to be your son.

Biting the Bullet 11:36 PM

"Just one of life's little misfortunes. But who could have seen it coming? I should have, after all, I'm walking in circles."

This thought ran through my head as I felt myself being flung toward the toilet seat. Emptying the contents of my stomach had become a morbid and dreaded ritual these past days. As I sat there a little dazed, a salty taste came to my mouth. My sweat and tears had come together to mix with the stomach acid in my mouth. Another liquid dripped it's way to my lips, and I could almost see the scarlet drop forming in the corner of my right nostril.

Closing my eyes, I saw myself kneeling over a small tombstone. The air was chilly, and the grey and lonely cemetery offered little comfort. My fingers brushed the inscription as I said goodbye to a hope, a dream, a foolish fantasy. I nurtured this hope, I watched it grow. I awoke with it every morning and tucked it in with me every night. I cradled it as it drew it's last breath. As I turned to leave, a mournful chorus rung in my ears, as the angels sang a cold and broken Hallelujah.

"This should hurt. This should sting. This should deal me a gaping wound. I've grown so numb, my level of endurance has climbed so high. Pain makes better people, stronger people."

I came back to reality just as my stomach tightened and my face contorted. As I stared at the lime green acid swimming in the bowl below me, scenes came to mind, scenes I didn't care to remember.

Ignorance is bliss. You couldn't have seen me, not even if you had looked my way. You couldn't have heard me, no, not even if I had screamed bloody murder. Lost in your passion, you failed to see the boy who looked your way, and wondered why. A polite smile masked his feelings, and each day seemed worse than the last. And yet the offenders continued on, blissful in their ignorance.

"Life is a strange thing, it pulls so many new twists and turns that one moment you're standing on firm ground with a perfect sense of direction, and the next you're falling to your knees in a disoriented state of mind."

And now here I am. Cold, dirty, sick, and broken; sitting in a grimy toilet stall with tears streaming down my face. I am pathetic.

And yet somehow, I'm still standing. Yet somehow, with this pain comes equal amounts of grace. Forgiveness has replaced any bitterness I would have kept within; I've placed another's happiness above my own. I know I won't be trudging in circles forever.
I've turned to Him, and now, I've found peace.

Biting the Bullet 11:36 PM

"Just one of life's little misfortunes. But who could have seen it coming? I should have, after all, I'm walking in circles."

This thought ran through my head as I felt myself being flung toward the toilet seat. Emptying the contents of my stomach had become a morbid and dreaded ritual these past days. As I sat there a little dazed, a salty taste came to my mouth. My sweat and tears had come together to mix with the stomach acid in my mouth. Another liquid dripped it's way to my lips, and I could almost see the scarlet drop forming in the corner of my right nostril.

Closing my eyes, I saw myself kneeling over a small tombstone. The air was chilly, and the grey and lonely cemetery offered little comfort. My fingers brushed the inscription as I said goodbye to a hope, a dream, a foolish fantasy. I nurtured this hope, I watched it grow. I awoke with it every morning and tucked it in with me every night. I cradled it as it drew it's last breath. As I turned to leave, a mournful chorus rung in my ears, as the angels sang a cold and broken Hallelujah.

I came back to reality just as my stomach tightened and my face contorted. As I stared at the lime green acid swimming in the bowl below me, scenes came to mind, scenes I didn't care to remember.

Ignorance is bliss. You couldn't have seen me, not even if you had looked my way. You couldn't have heard me, no, not even if I had screamed bloody murder. Lost in your passion, you failed to see the boy who looked your way, and wondered why. A polite smile masked his feelings, and each day seemed worse than the last. And yet the offenders continued on, blissful in their ignorance.

"Life is a strange thing, it pulls so many new twists and turns that one moment you're standing on firm ground with a perfect sense of direction, and the next you're falling to your knees in a disoriented state of mind."

And now here I am. Cold, dirty, sick, and broken; sitting in a grimy toilet stall with tears streaming down my face. I am pathetic.

And yet somehow, I'm still standing. Yet somehow, with this pain comes equal amounts of grace. Forgiveness has replaced any bitterness I would have kept within; I've placed another's happiness above my own. I know I won't be trudging in circles forever.
I've turned to Him, and now, I've found peace.

Triple Six 7:01 PM

6-6-06. Today.

Six hundred and sixty-six, a number of pure evil, the devil's own, the number that helped me differentiate between the good guys and the bad guys in the Kidz Mop and other related publications.

Now this 666 seems to be quite the topic today. I checked the news just earlier and they were talking about it, crazy 666 celebrations are going to be underway (they're having a party in Hell), and most people are blogging about it.

But really, I was more interested in the 4th of May 2006, when at one point the time and date was as follows: 01:02:03 04.05.06 To me, that's more of a kickass patern, wouldn't you say? It seems that no one has anything interesting to blog about today.

But then again, neither do I.

I don't think any major events will happen, so don't hold your breath. As far as I know, this 666 business could turn out to be another Y2K situation (yeah, stock up on food and supplies, we're ALL GONNA DIE!!). Heh, Y2K...See, that was funny.

The Many Faces of Sexy 5:27 PM

You know those vain posts in which people post pictures of their faces, all in different angles and poses?

Yeah, those.

Now before I begin, I realize that these pictures could ruin my reputation, so let me take a moment to say that I'm uglier in person.

To make this post slightly educational, I'm going to give a safety awareness illustration of what not to do with electrical sockets.

Don't stick your finger in them.


Bad things could happen. Very bad things.




Oh, my disclaimer: Warning! A scary picture of me may follow, if you're easily frightened, now would be a good time to go hide under your mommy's dress. And Buffy, you know where to find me.

POW!