Icebreaker for Multiple Jaws

Hi everyone. I tried to post something last night and apparently messed up and now my clevernesses are all roosting somewhere in the universal wilderness. (It occurs to me now that I might've posted a comment instead of a post -- such delicate distinctions!) Anyway, it's not like I'd said anything the least bit pertinent or funny, but at least I thought I'd broken the ice and could stop feeling like the weird mute guy standing in the corner at the baby shower. So here's a second attempt, and I have to say I'm feeling good about my chances. My chaoses. Optimistic, if you will. Is the ice broken, then?

Hard to tell. In case it's not: my name is Steve Kramp. I'm 29 years old and I work as a computer programmer. Feeble Slayer is just my Linux handle; no one really calls me that except my mom. Asparagus is good. Green beans are better. I like the Hardy Boys equally except when one of them is wearing corduroy, then I like that one best. Oh yeah, I'm a Gray.

God, I wish I had something smart to add to the optimism conversation, but it's hard to be optimistic with all this recent hair. Sometimes, though, I remember Bill Murray leading the summer campers in the movie _Meatballs_ in a mantra of "It just doesn't matter!" and afterwards I do feel better. Somehow cleansed. And I'm sure there's a poetic parallel to this. Give me a minute, it'll come to me...

So hello to you all. I'll try to deal only in substance and grist and meaningfulness from this point on. The last thing the Security Camera needs is my noodling around. But it's nice to be with the three of you, as with as with can be.

SK