Aplentus

Superheros

2011-07-11T01:13:00.000-07:00

I grew up watching superheros do this and that on TV, but never really gave them a lot of thought beyond their sheer humanity saving entertainment value. Until now. This morning, I was laying in bed, looking at the various super hero pictures on my pajamas. I don't think any of them make sense. For instance:

Superman

Lets just say something bad was going to happen to this planet, so I made a rocket and went to a planet that had people that look just like me, only it had a red sun. Because of this red sun, I can now fly, I have x-ray vision, and I can deflect bullets and my strength is off the charts. I know, already a huge stretch. But lets just say it happened. Why, then, is my only weakness a rock from the planet that I came from? Seriously, my weakness is dirt clods? Really? I used to play with dirt clods back on my home world, but now that is the only thing that can kill me. Huh.

Also, I would have all those rad super powers because of the sun, right? Why does this guy look like he works out every waking moment he isn't fighting crime. He has his powers because of the sun, not because of his Gold's Gym membership. The sun makes him strong. I don't get why he looks like a walking/flying human tank. He should look a lot more like a graphic designer, or a software engineer.

The Green Lantern

Why does the Green Lantern looks like he could bench press a car when really all he ever did was tell his ring to make some crazy thing to stop criminals. Seriously, I never saw the Green Lantern use his ring to make giant weights that he would lift. I would wear that faggy ring for those abs. My word. I would like to eat some scrambled eggs off abs like that. This guy has no body fat, yet he doesn't even do anything physically. He just dreams up crazy business that the ring then makes. How does that get you those shoulders? It doesn't.

And why the mask? Did he have a normal life beyond being the Green Lantern? Isn't that a full time gig? If I had that ring, and I wasn't busy using it to fight crime, I would use it to make a comfy house with a giant bed and a huge TV. Why do you need money when you have that ring? And if you don't need money then why do you hide your identity? It makes no sense...

Plus, if you're a superhero and you can do what you want, why the tights? Who wants to wear a full body leotard? No one I know. Even if I had a body like that, I would still rather my crime fighting get up be some cargo shorts, vans and a tank for the summer and something like Cobain would have worn for the winter. At least Green Lantern didn't have a cape.

The Flash

That running super fast can even make you a super hero is pretty much stupid to begin with... But I will go along with it for laughs and pretend that running super fast is a legit super power... Common sense = suspended. So, sure, he runs really fast and that totally helps with fighting crime. Do you see this guys lats?!?! Do you see them? Look at his lats. Just look at them. Did you look? I said look at them. What runner has lats like this?! This is not the way people that run really fast look. The best part of this picture is that his legs aren't even in it, which should be his best part. His quads should look like tree trunks to keep his knees in order. His chest should NOT look like that. All that upper body weight would make it so he could run really fast, but only in a straight line. And why is he so tall?! That high center of gravity would make high speed direction changes impossible.

Carl Lewis

I bet Carl would laugh his ass off because The Flash is white. Tons of super fast guys are white. Makes perfect sense that The Flash is bone white. Carl here won lots of gold metals because he is fast. One of the fastest humans that ever lived. Look at his lats. Look at them!! Would you look at his lats?! Oh, you say you can't see them? Yeah, me neither. That's because to be one of the fastest humans on the planet, giant lats just aren't necessary. In fact, I would guess they would work against you. Carl seemed to think so, that's why he doesn't have any. You know there could never be a super hero like The Flash. If there was one, he would be black, and black men have more fashion sense than to wear red tights. Black Flash with look like shaft, and he wouldn't run at all because he would be too busy being cool.

Aquaman

This is just sad. Talking to fish and hanging out underwater is a super power now? At least this guy looks more like Micheal Phelps. Fins on his calves though, and no webbed feet? Srsly, what crime takes place underwater? Who ever heard of an underwater mugging? Do submarines get jacked? I don't think that they do. This guys greatest contribution to the hall of justice would likely be finding car keys and bags of weed lost by surfers while surfing. "Great job, Aquaman. That is a huge bag of lost car keys, change and refer. We need to go stop some crimes on land, watch the base, we should be back in a couple of hours!"

I would love to see a fight between Wolverine and Aquaman. Wolverine would make Aquaman look like an overweight 5 year old.

facebook is ruining our brains.

2010-11-05T01:54:00.000-07:00

Back in the really olden days when I was growing up, so like 1974, I used to always hear how TV was rotting my brains. We watched too much TV and we weren't learning how to think. Plus it was wrecking my eye site because I was always "way too close to the TV screen!" I, personally, always seem to be running the risk of turning into a potato. And somehow, prolly due to TV and its influence, we grew up to be slackers.

My brother and I had the routine dialed in. We took turns, prolly around 1979, twisting the antenna to get better reception on the 4 or 5 channels we got. It was a feat of team work and communication. We pulled the signal down outta the airwaves in order to watch shows. I think the signals came from other huge antenna, I don't think there were any satellites yet. At least none for getting TV signals. My brother and I dreamed of a day when we could have watch sized TVs. Especially my brother, he had a thing for wrist wear as a kid. I mainly wanted something I could watch in bed while I was supposed to be going to sleep because I have never been one to fall asleep like normal people, even as a kid. TV was kinda magic back then. Crappy reception, no such thing as a VCR, or DVR. You watched something when it was on, or you heard about it from people that saw it and wished you had remembered.

Things have changed. Most HOAs don't allow tall antenna, and I am pretty sure signal is broadcast all digital now anyways. So twisting the antenna is a thing of the past. The very distant past. I notice we still yell at kids to move back from the TV, and then we scoot back in to our desks to press our faces against computer screens, If I would have known back then that I would spend my days and nights sitting in a desk chair sitting arms length from a computer monitor, which is hardly different from a tv screen, I would have laughed when my parents yelled at me to move. But they were spankers, so I would have got spanked way more too.

It is odd, having watched the internet progress. In the early 90s I was reading that one day we would watch TV over the web. I scoffed. WAY too much bandwidth, never happen I would think and prolly say to those around me. Never happen, that is dumb. Well today I am back to not having an antenna, my computer is hooked to my TV and I watch things from Hulu and Netflix. George Jetson stuff. Same with watching Netflix on my iphone under the covers at night. I could watch it on the laptop, but that doesn't feel so futuristic as the iphone does. Both about a foot from my eyeballs I should add. Both still trying to rot my brain I am sure.

I realize that facebook is not TV. But, it is todays brain rotting culprit. These days everything is boiled down to the smallest amount it can be. Dialogue isn't between TV characters, it is between us, but boiled down to tiny exchanges. I used to get an idea, and build it up and write it in my blog. I would try and turn one stupid idea into an entire blog entry to entertain whoever happened to be stopping by. Anymore, I get a dumb idea, and I try to boil it down to a facebook status update. I generally hope my status is somehow entertaining to those who read it.

Blah blah blah, I should say some stuff about not fully developing ideas anymore, and tie that all into some crap about status updates and twitter only allowing so few words and how they are not really status updates like "damn I broke my foot" but more just stupid shit we all think of, and say something witty about how kids are growing up today being taught to truncate their conversations with each other instead of giving them thought and making them all complete or whatever, but I wanna go check my facebook feed and see if anyone has posted anything awesome.

Encroachment.

2010-06-29T16:56:00.000-07:00

Back in the olden days, people used horses to get around. I am not an animal lover really. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate horses and use my nights plotting ways to get back at horses for all of their terrible deeds. And they must commit terrible deeds if I hate them. But I don't, so they probably don't either. I just don't care for animals. They usually smell like they live outside, even the ones that don't. They get fur all over me, or slobber. I don't mind baby animals. Baby animals, like baby people, can do pretty gross stuff and still be cute. I have picked up a sleeping baby and the baby was drenched in sweat. I thought, 'how cute, this baby is so sweaty.' I see some dude on a bus that's super sweaty, the last thing I am going to think is that he's cute. I am going to think he's disgusting and should get off the bus. However, disgusting bus guy is way off course because I was talking about the olden days and riding grody horses everywhere.

I think I like the whole buck board set up. If I am driving, then I have someone with me "riding shotgun". It isn't like riding shotgun today where we have crazy rules that revolve around who gets to sit in the front seat with the driver. I am talking about siting next to the driver with a gun. A real shotgun, where people get put down if things get outta hand. And by put down, I mean shot, not laughed at for being dressed funny or having a small penis.

Today we drive around in cars, all closed up with windows and air conditioning. No shotguns, most likely. Big cars mostly, with lots of power. I think if we reintroduced shotguns to this mess, it might not even help that much. People seem to think that their cars are a moving fortress of righteousness.

I could go on forever about the crazy things I see people do on the road, but right now I have a particular thing in mind. But besides that, I wanna talk about the yield sign.

The first yield sign was invented by a cop in Tulsa Oklahoma and installed in 1950. That means we have all had roughly 60 years to get the concept of yielding. Before that, people mostly only yielded in sword fights. They would scream out, "I yield!" as a sign of surrender so that they didn't get stabbed to death by a sword. This of course in the really olden days prior to 1950 when the only law was pretty much live by your wit, your grit and something else that rhythms with both wit and grit. Either way, those that lived beyond the age of 13 were rare due to the lack of medicine, law, civility and the abundance of swords and shotguns.

If we lived back then, we would think of now as the shiny future full of wonders and marvels the likes of which we could only dream. Wonders like the interwebz, GTA3, pizza, medicine, ice-cream and the iphone. But we are not in our barbaric past dreaming of those things, we are in the shiny future where they exist. Probably we don't have flying cars yet because no one has learned, in the last 60 years, how to obey a yield sign. To yield, as anyone who has avoided death in a sword fight can tell you, means literally to give or render as fitting, rightfully owed, or required...to give up possession of on claim or demand. So a yield sign means you give any claim to the lane you want into until there is no one else using it. Then you may advance in a forwardly direction with your automobile into said lane. You would then have the right-of-way being that no one is coming. If there is a car coming at you in the lane you are waiting to get into then you DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT-OF-WAY (21803(a) Yield signs, yield until reasonably safe.) You yield it until oncoming traffic is all gone. Then you can go. That's what yielding means.

Many times my good friend, who I will call "Bill," and I see drivers abusing yield signs on our way back from fetching lunch. Not the sign itself, but more specifically, flouting the need to yield that the sign represents. "Bill" gets righteously indignant as cars inch into a lane when they clearly do not have the right-of-way. As "Bill" points out, this is encroaching. After careful discussion and consideration, we determined the need for a new sign. I give you: THE ENCROACHING SIGN!

I am not sure yet where this sign would go. It might give the people already in the lane a warning that their rights are about to be encroached upon. It might go right where a yield sign would have gone to let people know they are free to enter the lane in a douchebag manner (which is also a good name for a douchey rich guys house). I think I am for replacing yield signs with encroach signs since most everyone driving is already entering onto the rights of others through the means of either gradual steps or in some cases, attempted stealth.

There you go. Now you're free to encroach where you really don't belong. I hope you're happy.

Unlimited...

2010-06-02T01:35:00.000-07:00

Any show that says it is brought to you with "limited commercial interruptions" should turn into an object so I can throw it across the room into the wall and then punch it in the face. Of course it is, as are all shows. If a show had unlimited commercial interruptions, then it would never, ever end. It's like telling you, "the following program is presented to you with an ending." It bugs me when I am told things that can't possibly be any other way, but I am told these things like they are somehow an amazing benefit to me. A show with an ending isn't really an amazing benefit to me. It's normal. A show without an ending would just be weird, and no one would like it and no one would watch it, hence no one would watch the unlimited commercials either. Limited commercial interruption is an amazing benefit to the people bringing me the show and the limited commercial interruption. 40 minutes of mediocre entertainment somehow shoved into an hour is the norm. The unlimited commercial interruption guy should really be ashamed of himself. How does he even face his mother? His family would be proud if he bought a sword and used it on himself at sunrise on the beach. There is no other honorable way for him.

The G2 pilot & moral dilemma

2010-04-20T00:29:00.000-07:00

Maybe this isn't a moral dilemma. What better lead in then to grab you with an awesome title, and then tell you maybe I am wrong. Normally, morality is not a problem for me. I have a pretty good idea where the boundaries are at for most things. It's important to know where moral boundaries are, in my opinion. That way, when you cross over them, you know if you need to create a diversion. I have to rechalk my moral boundaries often. I cross over them regularly, but I don't want to lose sight of them. If you don't know when you crossed one, you don't know when to make something look like a complete accident, or like you didn't really know.

Given that, it seems like it would be difficult for me to wind up in any kind of moral dilemma. Yet here I am. My favorite pen to write with is a G2 Pilot. That gives me an idea, I am adding that to the title. I am also not rewriting the first paragraph. This post is starting to feel shaky, but it won't when I am done. At least, no more so than usual. Anyways, yes, I still use pens. I like to write on paper. Partly because I like how it feels, all old fashiony and visceral. Also, I like to draw pictures of trees on paper because of the irony, and because I am better than a tree. Try and stop me tree! That's what I thought, just sit there and get leaves on my car, just like every other day.

Recently my G2 Pilot pen ran out of ink. This particular kind of pen is so awesome though, you can buy it ink refills and keep the same pen. I am not so romantic or nostalgic that I want to keep that pen because of any special meaning or memory. I am a man, and it's a pen, not a car or a rocket...it's just a pen. I just don't like buying new stuff if I don't have to, unless it's somehow less expensive to buy new than to keep old... and here in lies my perceived moral dilemma. A package of refills is 2 for 2 bucks. I am not good at math, but that is a dollar a refill about. At Costco, I can get a new package of Pilot G2s, 15 of them, for 12.89 or so. That means the whole pen in that package is less than a dollar each. But, I have to spend almost 13 bucks plus tax to get the cheaper pen. If money weren't tight, this would be less of a dilemma, but money is tight...

Maybe until I save up the 14 or so dollars I will need to get all new pens, I will write with my tears. Or maybe I will write with my red Pilot G2 until I save up enough money to get the big pack. Or maybe I will....is that La Chuppacabra?!?! What? I didn't take your Pilot G2 when you looked at La Chuppacabra, that's crazy talk. Can I borrow some chalk, I might have smudged a line, I will give the chalk right back, cheese...not like I am a thief or anything. Good luck finding your pen, I gotta run.

How not to be a douche bag at the gym.

2010-04-14T01:11:00.000-07:00

Listen up douchebags. I have been thinking of writing an entry like this for awhile. But it's a difficult subject to broach. "Because you want to be sensitive and educational without being hurtful or offensive?" you might ask... Not at all, that is not my concern in the least. What makes this difficult are the many different methods there are to being a total dbag at the gym. So many different ways, some completely obvious, some not as obvious. Some point to minor character flaws, others point to the need for life changing events to occur, maybe even some type of intervention, some are even arguable. Well, arguable by those qualified to argue them, not just by any lameman.

I finally concluded that a post like this isn't possible. The one single post would take up pages and pages of blog space. I would hate to use up the remaining amount of blog space on this one topic. So I made another blog. I would link it in this post, but I don't want to. You should look in the links on the side for the "How not to be a total douchebag at the gym" link. That is the link you want.

If you happy being a douchebag at the gym, or just in life, prolly don't read the new blog. Prolly also keep your distance from me. I am really allergic to total douchebags. The allergy is a good thing really, it helps me spot them for sure.

tastless

2010-03-24T16:21:00.000-07:00

Weird how often tasteless jokes are the very best jokes of all.

The war on drugs.

2009-11-22T02:23:00.000-08:00

I don't know when the war on drugs started? Was it Nancy Reagen, or Billy Joel that started it? Has it been going on longer than that? I am sure I don't know. I would say the 60s are famous for all kinds of drugs, so maybe it was going then too? Or maybe the 60s started the war on drugs because they used too many, and someone finally had to do something... Prolly, the baby boomers are so damn greedy about everything else, they prolly did up most of the drugs in the 60s and grew up to be lawyers and law enforcement that started the war. I don't know how, but somehow that must lead to more money in their pockets because that is one of the many ways baby boomers suck. I will save baby boomers for another blog entry though because I could go on and on about them. I will try to stick to my points about the war on drugs here, being that is in the title and all.

Lets pretend for a minute that I am the President of the United States. And lets pretend that I have already learned all the secrets that come with the office as well as ran around in the bunkers eating the salt water taffy and candy bars they hide in those in case of nuclear war. Also, that I already nailed a couple of interns so I am pretty much ready to get down to business. First thing I would do, after all that other rad stuff, publically address the war on drugs.

"Ladies & gentlemen of America, how ya doin, it's me, your president. I am on the tv tonight to let you all know, the war on drugs, yeah, well, that's over. We lost. The drugs kicked out ass over and over again. That shits flooding in from all kinds of other countiries, and half of you out there are making or growing the drugs yourselves. Why should we fight you? We shouldn't, and we are done. Proabition was not the greatest move, at least we ended that faster. What have we been thinking? So, from here on out, it is all legal if you buy it from the store. Any drug you want will be for sale at your local drug stores in the next few months. Now listen, this isn't licence to go crazy. If you haven't tried any drugs, feel free. But I am guessing if you were interested, you prolly already scored some. I will be diverting the trillions we were spending annually to fight this war into paying off the national debt, which is significant, but should also be paid off before I am out of office. Also, there will be a tax on drugs sold, just like all the other rad stuff we tax, like tabacco, alcohol, tea, condoms, gasoline...it will be called the "feel good tax", and the only thing that won't feel good about it is paying it. But you wanna smoke out? You wanna do an 8 ball with your buddies? You wanna get laid? You wanna trip? Fine, have fun, the feel good tax will also be going into paying down the debt. After that, it will go into education...and building a way bigger and better white house with water slides and trampolines and one of those big fans that's so powerful you can fly around. And possibly a masterbatorium. In fact, come next week, I will roll by a drug store myself and pick up some weed. As president, a fatty spliff would go along way now and then. Anyways, war on drugs...over. You're welcome America. God Bless and good night."

I imagine there would be an uproar after I said I might smoke a j once they are legal. Truthfully, I prolly wouldn't. I don't like smoking that much, but that isn't the point. The point is, people would be worried because the man with his finger on the button could be stoned. I'll tell you what, if I was President, me being stoned is about the last thing anyone should worry about. I would have my finger on the button every single day. I would fondle it and lick it. I would prolly teabag that thing. One button that nukes the planet? That is power. I would make sweet sweet love to that button. I would have Darpa scientist work with the dept of defense to make a mobile version of the button. Maybe an iphone app of the button. If I am sitting in a cabinet meeting, and I tell everyone the plan on a given subject, and someone starts to cry about what I say we are all gonna do, I pull out the mobile button, or MB, and I set it on the table. I put my finger on it lightly, and I say, "if you all don't start agreeing with me, I will have to press this. Is that what you want? To blow up Russia?" Prolly we would be talking about health care reform, or education or the feel good tax or something completely unrelated to Russia, but it doesn't matter. The Russians will all die if people don't start seeing things my way. I would have the button with me at the dinner table with my kids. "Did you eat your veggies? No? I says to eat them..." Again, here comes the MB out of my pocket and on to the dinner table. "Listen kids, when I say to eat your dinner, I mean it. If dinners don't start disappearing down gullets right now, this button is getting pushed. Are you really gonna make me do what I don't wanna?!"

At the same time the scientists are making the button into the MB, I will have them install a dial. Everyone knows the Russians have a deadhand on their nukes, so if we bomb first and they are all dead, whatever nukes they still have will fire back at us. They are Russians, of course they have that. Besides, who gets mad at Russians anymore? Those poor bastards are just watching their country fall apart, prolly because the f-ing baby boomers. Why would we nuke them? That's just mean. The dial would allow me to switch our nukes to aim at China, North Korea, the middle east (yeah, pretty much the whole thing, it all seems kind of troublesome. At some future time I might ahve the scientist make that more granular, but for now, the middle east as a whole is fine). I would even have places like Mexico, Canada, Greenland, and Austrilia on the dial. Who knows when those yahoos will get crazy? Not me, but if they do, me, the MB and the dial will all be ready for them.

Knowing this, I imagine the American public will rethink their stance on weed smoking by the President. That is, if I were President. Maybe in another blog entry I will enumerate some of the possible roadblocks to me becoming President. There aren't that many, but the few that exist are significant. I can't wait to see all the alien bodies in Area 51!

things that are funny just to me.

2009-09-10T10:38:00.001-07:00

There is someone where I work who, I believe, recently learned the word "fiduciary" which I think is a funny word to begin with. He seems to find occasion to use this word a lot. I don't know if he just likes saying it, or if it sounds important, or what, but I am glad he uses it because it makes me laugh.

I have a 40 minute drive, or so, to work everyday. I often look for ways to entertain myself as I don't have either a car stereo or cell phone and masturbating while driving is messy. This morning, I imagined I was in a spelling bee (which is comedy gold all by itself) and I had to spell fiduciary. It made me laugh because I imagined someone had given me all the words beforehand, so I knew how to spell them all exactly, but I didn't know what any of them meant. So, after I spelled it I had to use it in a sentence. I use my announcer voice to say "fiduciary" and then say thing like, "His car spun out of control; as a result of the accident he injured his fiduciary." Read the title again, I didn't say this was going to make you laugh, but I am dying right now.

After, I pretended I was preparing for a big, important business meeting by saying the word "fiduciary" over and over with difference inflections, tones and cadence. Pretending to look out into the meeting attendees and demand "who will take fiduciary responsibility for this mess?!" Then pausing for dramatic effect, then repeating the words, "fiduciary responsibility" then just "fiduciary".

Another of my favorite words is "priapism". To me, it sounds like a religion. Maybe to some people it is. When people ask me what I believe, I like to tell them I am a Priapist. I guess I say enough retarded stuff that no one asks...

These two words together are awesome. Fiduciary Priapism. Sounds important. It sounds like something that would be argued over by powerful and wealthy people in important meetings in conferences rooms on the top floors of tall urban buildings on cold rainy days. Like most important sounding nonsense that powerful people would argue over, this makes me laugh. In short, it is a Money Boner. I don't know what that is exactly, but whatever it is, it is funny to me.

Movies are pricey

2009-08-08T01:25:00.000-07:00

I don't often go to movies. Why you might ask? Well, the reasons are various and complex. However, topping the list; I generally don't have the collateral it takes to get a loan so I can afford movie tickets. I am hoping you caught my wry, subtle sarcasm. I don't really take a loan for movie tickets, they are pricey, but that is crazy talk. I get my movie tickets the same way as everyone else. I perform degrading sexual favors for the big movie theater managers. Don't pretend you don't do it too...

Back in the olden days, I worked in a movie theater. It was a go nowhere job, but I enjoyed parts of it. Namely seeing every single movie that came through my theater as well as any other theater in driving distance for free. That was the redeeming part of that particular job. That and all the free candy I constantly found on the floor. Booyaaaaah, free candy baby!

These olden days I speak of really weren't that long ago, all things considered. The theater I worked in cost 5.50 for adult admission. I remember thinking, way back then, that the price to get in wasn't outrageous, but the price for food once you got in was outrageous. Entering a movie theater was like landing on a fancy island where you can only eat the local cuisine, and since it is a fancy island, well, the local grub is pretty freaking pricey. Being fancy and all. Expect for it isn't an island, and there was a Vons around the corner that sold the same snack food for "reasonable" prices. (I say "reasonable" because I accept the prices as marked. Some companies might mark their candy up 10,000% and I don't know it. If I did, I would have another entry in my blog about the astronomical margins on candy sales. But I don't know if that is true or not, and frankly I don't want to know, I like candy, I want to buy it. Don't ruin it for me. Sometimes ignorance is necessary.)

Since that time, ticket prices have gone up. Alot. I don't want to tell you what I paid for the last movie I saw. It is embarrassing. I really wanted to see the new crew on Star Trek though, so I did it. I have committed a number of sins in my life, but paying for that ticket felt like one of the sinniest sins. Once inside the theater, the first thing I see is a trailer how I should not pirate movies. I just shoveled out money to see a movie, and I am being told not to steal them. I have news. Big important news for the people trying to catch movie pirates. I already paid to see this steamer... Why would I go download it? Look somewhere else for the pirates. Like on a boat with a plank.

Their little trailer compares stealing a handbag or a car to stealing a movie. If you look at it from the stand point of doing wrong, stealing something big is just as bad as stealing something tiny. Like a Lego or a diamond. If you look at it from the stand point of getting punished for piracy, they should just list the possible sentencing along with the odds of being caught. If they wanted to show the reality of the matter, it would be a trailer that showed hollywood execs sneaking tons of money out of people's pockets while they are standing in line, and then it should show them laughing about it. Also, they should call some entertainment news show and brag about how much money they just snatched from you. If there is any piracy taking place, that is it.

Downloading movies is theft. Charging $12.00 a ticket is avarice. Both are bad. If you believe that two wrongs don't make a right, then you hate Robinhood. Why would you hate Robinhood? He stole from the rich, and gave the poor people boot leg movies. He was a good guy, wait, what?

From now on, movie theaters should charge you to get out. After all, movies are an experience type product, like eating out. Do I order my food, and then pay for it prior to eating it? No, I do not. And fast food isn't eating out, don't be disgusting. If I finish my meal, and I am not happy with how it all went down, I speak with a manager. I don't pay full price. In these situations, I get comped. Sometimes the whole meal. Sometimes my next meal at that restaurant is free as well. Movies need to be the same way. If I sit all the way through Transformers 2 (which I do not recommend you do. In fact, if Micheal Bay had anything to do with it, I recommend you set it on fire and hit it with Bibles) I should get to talk to the manager. Transformers 2 should not get to brag record ticket sales when everyone left the movie feeling like it was a crumby piece of crap. And I am not just picking on that crumby piece of crap, I am picking on all the crumby pieces of crap that slide out the megaplex bunghole of hollywood. When GI Joe is over, I am calling the manager and letting that person know that the movie I just saw was not as good as it appeared on the menu. In fact, it was awful. If you continue to serve it here, you will make people sick. I would like my money back, and I am considering never watching another movie in this theater again! How do I know they aren't all as bad as this one was. (I am pretending, BTW. I would never pay full admission to see GI Joe. What I hoped would be awesome I am pretty sure is the steamiest pile of turd out this summer. Magnificent.)

From now on I think I will down load all my movies. If they are good, I will send hollywood a little cash in the mail. A reasonable amount, like with the candy.

Data Security

2009-07-28T00:37:00.000-07:00

Recently, I have been working with information having to do with data security. Not that I am any kind of expert, in fact for a change, I am not expert at all. I know very little about this one particular subject. However, it is interesting that some people give it a lot of thought. Interesting because others of us take it for granted. We shop on line and don't really think too much about the efforts and practices that went into making our transactions safe. We send our biggest secrets over chat and email with little thought to the security of it all. Wait, what? I am the only one sending secrets over chat and email. Crap. Well, anyways, you get my point. Not many of us think too much about the security of our data although we all probably should.

I was thinking about the imagery of protection. We all want protection from bad guys, but we don't like to think about what that might look like...it can be kind of frightening, or unwanted. Honestly, the first thing that I think of when I think of protection is condoms. Google image search thinks of that first too. Condoms keep us safe from viruses and other sorts of problematic issues. Also, condoms keep mules stomachs and large intestines safe from cocain, but those are bad guys. Or somewhere in the middle guys anyways.

I think of pad locks, chain link fence, razor wire, barking dogs... We are all taught to believe that police are our friends, yet we all instintively quit doing what we were doing when they show up, even if what we were doing wasn't bad. Don't lie, youre not fooling anyone, you know you do. Yes you, you do too. Everyone, even you.

Yes you do too, now stop before the cops get here.

As I was thinking through the different, fairly unattractive things, we depend on to keep us and our assests safe, I had a stunning and kind of sad realization. One of the worset fake events of the 70s happened because data wasn't protected well enough. I realize the evil empire being toppled was all in all probably a good thing, but R2D2 is a robot, and therefore amoral. Today he steals the plans to blow up the death star, tomorrow he could just as easily steal the plans to blow up city planet where all the jedis sit around doing cool jedi stuff. I don't know what would be worse than that, but whatever is worse, R2D2 is totally capable of it.

Too bad for the empire that they didn't practice better data security. Darth Vadar was a great evil empire leader, but sadly his big undoing was poor data security. All the lightsaber fighting, sneaking around, blowing up tractor beam generators, attacking empire outposts aside, the evil empire would have crushed the rebel resistance if they would have had and practiced better data security. That should be a lesson to what can happen if you let R2D2 around your data.

Everyone loved that droid for all his cutie whistling and brash rebelliousness. But he just lost a few notches in my mind. R2D2 isn't as cute as he used to be to me, he is a menace. If I ever meet up with him, I will slip a magnet in him, and every other droid who acts all cute. In fact, I am going to recommend that a data standard be set in place to make sure droids keep our of our business. I don't want anything of mine blown up on account of one.

Pharmacists count slow & hate people

2009-07-18T01:52:00.000-07:00

Recently I was prescribed a few drugs for various health type issues I am having along with some procedures I had done. What is going wrong? Well, that is none of you're freaking business, but what I can tell you is it all caused me to spend a little time in a pharmacy.

On of my prescriptions was for 2 pills. 2. Like, 1 and then 2. For that I had to pay 5 bucks. For whatever reason, I want a pill that costs me 2.50 to be the size of half a sangwhich. It feels like a rip off when it is normal pill size. I don't care if it is 5mg of what I need and half a pound of baking soda to make the giant pill. Just make it bigger so I don't feel so ripped off.

The crazy part though, is dropping a prescription for 2 pills off at the pharmacy and the guy behind the counter says, "we can get this for you in 25 to 30 minutes." What? 25 minutes?! you have to count to 2! Although being told I have to wait 30 minutes for someone to count to two is completely unbelievable to me, I just go along with it like it is normal. That's what makes everyone think I am normal, I think. When really, inside, I am kind of a mess.

I am not good with math, or numbers in general really, but I think I could work in a pharmacy. I can count really fast. And really, I don't see that they do much else. The next prescription I dropped off the following day was for 30 tablets. This also took 30 minutes. They probably counted out one pill every minute. If I worked there, I would be a superstar for being able to count out 30 pills in about a minute, maybe 2 minutes to make sure i get the pills in a bottle.

I would understand if pills were the size of tires. If they were huge, they would require a warehouse. But pills are tiny. Maybe I would revolutionize the industry by organizing the pills. Maybe now it takes so long because they are in no specific order behind the counter? Maybe now all the pills are in a big barrel and the pharmacist has to dig through the barrel to find just the right ones? Maybe most of the wait is while they find the pills you need because they are hidden around the office like easter eggs? Who can say, the whole thing is so completely weird to me, but I pretend it all makes sense.

Once they have counted out the pills, a pharmacist wants to come over and tell you what each thing does and how to use it. "Now, these here are for your weeping anal fissures, just take one every 4 to 6 hours until the bottle is gone and that should really take the constant burning sensation off of your anus. These pills are for the rash you have...is this rash between your legs and in your arm pits? Well, take two of these a day with food and it will clear up all the redness and itching." Too bad they don't just give you a pill that doesn't make you feel shame and embarrassment from having all that explained very publicly. I like the look on the pharmacist face when I decline the explanation. They give me a piece of paper that details more than what they are about to tell me. Oh yeah, and my Dr just went over all this crap privately. They look almost hurt that they don't get to shout out what all is wrong with you for the world to hear. Only pill I will ever let a pharmacist explain to me out loud is if I ever get something prescribed because I have an inhumanly large erection and the pill is going to make it mortal sized for a couple of hours. Or maybe one that would calm my raging libido for a temporary amount of time. I really can't think of any other pills I would want explained so publicly to me.

Sometimes, I think the pharmacist might even be scared, I don't know why they don't ever decline. "This one will help you not throw up suddenly when you least expect it and this one will help calm your nearly uncontrollable rage disorder." Maybe that is an explanation they give while covered in a trash bag and standing 15 feet away while throwing your pills to you.

Pills are cool. And while I don't like being sick or hurt, I am always amazed a tiny tiny pill can do to someone my size. Pharmacists would be way cooler if they just learned to count faster.

fighting old people.

2009-06-22T19:53:00.001-07:00

I realize it has been some time since I have posted. You go get a blog, and post retarded stuff to it for a couple of years and after that, I might listen to you complain to me about how long I sometimes wait between posts. Otherwise, shut your gob.

I was thinking the other day about getting old. I think about this often, I really thought by the time I got to be this age, I would feel like an adult, and I would know all this adult stuff about how to do grown up things. Like investing. Really, like anything having to do with paper work in general. Paper work is a black art, and I know nothing of the black arts. Taxes are a mystery, a veiled something or other that is so vague and beyond knowability that is it a something obscured by a something else. It is just that vague and unknowable. Perhaps it is paperwork that has to do with math? Frightening, but I have strayed from my point, much like an older person might.

I notice the older I get, the slower my recovery time for injuries. I get hurt, it feels like forever before things feel right again. I think that comes with age. Good times. It make me think, this has got to be part of the reason why you don't see old guys getting in fist fights. I am sure as long as there is at least an eye dropper of testosterone running through a guys veins, a fight could happen. It is the curse of being a guy. But as you get older, fighting sounds less and less worth it. Like, "if someone did that to me I would kick his ass...well, I would think about kicking his ass anyways. Someone should kick a guys ass for what that jackass just did." If I were better with math, I would figure a curve that showed the likelihood a dude getting in a fist fight dropping with each year that same dude gets older. I would of course name this curve after someone I think is a douche. Why would I name it after me, if I am 90, I will still be able to soundly put you on the floor, sonny! Or at least, those are the things I will shout at the orderlies in the old folks home.

Fighting is an interesting process as well. Not that fighting has anything to do with getting older, but again, you are reading my blog. Quit your yip yappin about me staying on subject, or I will drop you like a bag of dirt, you son-of-a-gun.

Fighting is kind of like dating, in a way. Before you call the cops, hear me out. And give me time to plan my escape.

Dating usually starts off with words. Just like fighting. There are usually a couple of people, and the words volley back and fourth. The words exchanged are leading somewhere...often toward a physical relationship between the two people. Sometimes even a legal relationship, depending on how far things go. First one will push, then the other pushes back a little harder. Often times there is a few more words mixed with a little posturing. Then, the first one pushes back even harder, and then it is on until the police show up and either haul you both off for assault, or public indecency.

Most older people that are not Hugh Heffener could do without dating. It is too much effort. Sort of like they could totally do without fighting, also too much effort. Maybe I should have entitled this post, old people are lazy.

Metallica

2009-04-07T00:27:00.000-07:00

First, I have to say I am sorry. It has been like 6 months or something. I am not good with the math, but I haven't posted in a long long time. In all fairness, I have a few half written posts waiting to be finished. The best one so far is about cargo underpants... But you can see those when I finish them. The posts I mean, I am not actually sewing a pair of cargo underpants. I will hire a perfessional to make those.

Also, I have to apologize that after all this time, this is what I return with... I just witnessed it myself, and it is a spectacle to behold. I give you Avril Lavigwhatever covering Fuel, by Metallica. Honestly, that would be bad enough all by itself. But, metallica is watching her performance and seem totally into it. What? I don't know how that can be either. Possibly they have lost their self respect? Possibly they never had any? Who can say? Lars and his wooden shoes are air drumming a mean version in the front row, I dare say he is more into Avril's version of that song than his own bands version. Pathetic. And seriously, are the rest of them playing air guitar? Who does that? I mean, really, who does that? This is the craziest thing I have seen in a long time, and I see crazy stuff almost every day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40Grq0epcLc&feature=related

Watch it for yourself and weep my friends. This video is akin to God himself coming down from heaven and using his own name in vain. And then telling us, "eh, go ahead, it's cool."

Applewood

2008-11-07T23:46:00.000-08:00

Often when I am listening to the radio, I hear ads for Applewood smoked stuff. Usually it is applewood smoked bacon at many different eateries and fine establishments. When I think about it, it sounds kinda good, Applewood. Who wouldn't want something smoked in applewood? In cartoons, roasted pigs always have an apple in their mouths. I don't know when apple and ham started going together, but it sounds awesome. Kinda. Hard to make bacon sound unappealing really....

Why applewood though? Why not a tree that has a really particular smell, something I know I would taste. Like eucalyptus, or pine, or oleander? Why applewood? Apple's grow in orchards, not like a lot of apple trees are just hanging around waiting to be cut and set on fire. Maybe applewood smoked bacon is an exotic delicacy? Bacon fit for a king, not readily available to mere mortals? Or maybe, as it turns out, apple tree have to be heavily cut back yearly and there is tons of apple wood sitting around everywhere. So much they can't even turn it all into particle board. So, they burn a lot of it and some ranch hand decided to start using it to smoke his afternoon bacon snack because they couldn't get rid of it fast enough...

Next time you go to a restaurant and order bacon, or some bacon heavy treat like apply pie, and you are presented with "Applewood Smoked Bacon" tell them no thanks. You want bacon smoked in something expensive and awesome. Tell them you want plywood smoked bacon. When did plywood get so expensive anyways? Palm trees might be difficult to catch on fire, tell the waiter or waitress you want palmwood smoke bacon, or you need to talk to a manager.

Applewood smoked bacon. What a crock. No more bacon smoked over applewood for me. They can shove that bacon right up their applewoods. I want macadamia smoked bacon, or nothing at all. I insist. Don't fall for the hype. Join the revolution! No more applewood!

Halloween!

2008-10-31T00:15:00.000-07:00

I want a mask of my own face. That would be the creepiest costume of all.

Horrified onlookers: "Take that mask off"
Me: "ok"
Horrified onlookers: "AAAGGGGRRHHHHHHH!!!"
Me: "That's right, bitches."

Shout at the..wait a second...

2008-08-09T22:47:00.000-07:00

So, recently I was in a store or eatery, I forget which, and I heard The Crue come on in the the background. The Crew. The hair metal band from the 80s. The ones that 20 years ago my parents were swearing was devil music. That Crew. Background music at like Chilli's... I could stop this post right here and I am sure leave you all with a weird feeling. Walking away from your computers thinking.. "The Crew, background music? What is the world coming to...?" Chaos my friends, chaos.

The song was shout at the devil. I listened to this song a lot of times in high school. It somehow never struck me as odd then. I don't know what was wrong with me back then? Listening to it now, I realized I didn't understand most of the words. Pretty sure I never did. I did understand the "Shout, shout shout at the devil!" part though. I am sure that's what appealed to most of us, as youths at the time, was shouting at the devil.

I got to thinking about it though. Shouting what? What would I shout at the devil if I had the chance? I couldn't really think of anything I would shout at the devil if I saw him, so I turned to the Crue. They wrote the song, for sure they had something they wanted to shout at the devil. Turns out they really kinda didn't.

Typically when I shout at someone, I shout something, like "Hey, screw you hippy!" Hippys then know to turn around and look at me. They say to themselves, 'I am a hippy, and he just yelled screw you to me. If I wasn't such a hippy, I would do something about this.' Then they go back to thinking about Woodstock and weed and ten speed bicycles and vw vans. Who would just shout something like "ARRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!" I could see looking the devil in the eye and shouting some nondescript thing like that. The devil would probably look at me, then look behind him for other people or minions, then look back at me and motion 'are you shouting at me, or someone/something behind me??' Kinda give me a whatever shrug too. Chhhh, devil, you know I was shouting at you, don't pretend I wasn't.

So, now is my chance. I realize that if I ever have to shout at the devil, I should be like Neil Armstrong and have something awesome to say before the moment arrives. I would hate to see the devil and shout something totally lame. "Hey Devil, Hell called and they said...chhh, nevermind Devil, that was so stupid" The devil would agree that it was stupid and probably do something horrible to me because, well, he's the devil and all. If I ever see the devil, I will probably just shout "you suck!" Nondescript, he gets that a lot I bet. When shouting at the devil, I really don't think I want to score points for originality. I already work at a state college for a chud. I don't need the devil on my back too.

Shout at the Guy Right Behind the Devil would be a pretty good song too, I am sure. Once I start my band, I am gonna write that. Maybe. As soon as I write the song "Protein Donut" because really, who wouldn't want to hear about that. Oh yeah, and Dirtbird. That is going number one with a bullet.

The New Etiquette

2008-08-03T00:30:00.000-07:00

When I was a little kid, I used to get yelled at all the time for things like chewing with my mouth open, not opening the door for a lady, leaving the toilet seat up... whats weird is I never got in trouble for getting my dad's gun, loading it, and the ejecting round after round onto the floor. How am I still alive? Who knows, I don't. But my point is, I got yelled at for things that were a matter of etiquette. Most people don't yell at you for things that are safty concerns. I think most people think those things will take care of themselves.

Clearly, etiquette is the glue that holds society together. Without it, we would all turn, almost instantly, into rabid zombies, running around inturupting other people who are already talking, talking loud on our cell phones in public places, chewing with our mouths open, using the fork at the top of the plate for the salad, taking cuts into lines ahead of other people, burping and farting in resteraunts and writing super long sentences with questionable punctuation. However, with the huge importance of etiquette, I don't hear parents telling their children how to handle unwanted friend requests on mybook... We are destined to become rabid zombies, without a doubt. Sorry Jez.

In the future, if it continues to suit me, I might make some etiquette type lists to help you all with the new found layer of socialization on the interwebz. For now, however, I am going to tackle the subject most pressing to me. Unwanted friend request on Spaceface and Mybook. I have made some decisions and now I will tout these as etiquette And actually, once everyone starts doing what I do, it will be etiquette, so that all sort of works out.

A friend is a favored companion or one attached to another by affection or esteem. Or someone named Bill. Thanks m-w.com. So, when someone sends you a friend request, ask yourself, "do I favor this person?" Does it matter that they are a digital friend? Nope. Does it matter that this person works where you do, but you have never even been introduced? Nope. What if this is someone from your past who might have thought of you as a friend, but you kinda never really liked that much? Nope.

Turns out, when you turn someone down who asked to be your friend, it doesn't actually tell them you did it. Which is too bad. At first, I ignored people i didn't know or didn't like who asked to be friends. I figured I would continue to ignore them forever, if possible. But why? They asked to be my friend, yet they have never even talked to me in real life? They are the asshole for asking, not me for turning them down. Can someone I never met before be a favored companion? Not without talking to me first, so the answer is no. And quit being so creepy. Facespace should tell this person they have been turned down, and it should tell them to reconsider their ideas on friendship too. People you don't know aren't going to consider you with favor. They just aren't. And if you ask for this type of favor in real life, you are weird. Welp, same in myface. If you ask there, you are weird too.

Really, this would be a better networking site if it didn't treat everyone as a friend. I wish I had a "friends" list as well as a, "Yes, I think I do remember you" list. That I remember you is not at all the same as "I like you right now, you are a friend of mine, or you were such a great friend in the past, I still want you to be my friend." The "Yes, I am pretty sure I remember you list" is awesome because the title doesn't infer friendship, it only states that I do remember you, maybe there should be an "I recognize you, I think" list too.

With my friends list, I have made some life decisions. I am not afraid to tell you to your face the things I say in Spacebook. Etiquette. It's what seperates us from zombies. Tell your kids, if someone you don't know askes to be your friend in Facebook, what are you going to do? If they say anything other than, punch them in the mouth and then run to a police officer, then you should really think about teaching your children the ways of society. If you don't have kids? Same as if you do, these are just words to live by.

Coming soon, "Posting on someone's wall is like giving them a tattoo. Make it unique and rad, or die in a tank of sharks."

Gay marriage...why gay dudes?

2008-07-31T23:48:00.000-07:00

Gay marriage. Of all the terrible ideas I ever heard of, this ranks. Although on most subjects I blog about, I am an obvious expert. I am sure everyone totally gets that by now. However, on this subject, while I wish I was an expert, I have to say I am just a fascinated observer. I am comfortable enough in my sexuality to say, no matter how many trysts with muscley, hawt dudes I have, I am not now, nor have I ever been either gay or bi. I wish I was bi so everyone is a possibility, but alas, I am not. Any hawt, buttery man on man action I get is totally and completely straight. I know, too bad for me. So, I don't feel I can approach this subject with my normal confidence and expertise. For this, I hope you can forgive me. However, this does end up being a foray into science and law, and obviously those are areas I am well qualified to talk about.

So, gay dudes. Why the marriage thing? I know it isn't just the gay ladies hooking this up. It is always 2 dudes first in line to get hooked up when they make this legal for breif periods in California. I watch the news, I have seen all the gay guys in line. The world is your hawt, gay, buttery oyster. You can tell your significant other dude that you really wanna get hitched, but there is no legal structure to handle it, so it is out of the question. Which, leaves you availiable to hook up with a lot of other hawt, oily, slippery gay dudes, which is what gay dudes want. I can say this, as a guy, because I know all straight guys want is all the ass they can grab. Gay guys just want to get other guy ass, not lady ass. The math isn't difficult. Why gay guys? Why did you have to spoil your sausagefest by throwing marriage in there?!

Besides the obvious, formention problem with gay marriage, there are not so obvious problems. Clearly there needs to be language to handle this that doesn't not yet exist. The untrained observer probably thinks there is a regular pitcher and a regular catcher, so in the relationship, one is the husband and one is the wife. Though I am not as voyer here as I would like to be, I am going to venture a guess and say this is untrue. So, when I am talking to a gay married dude, and I want to mention his spouse, I can't really say husband or wife because those rolls are gender assigned and come in one each for every relationship. Husband and husband is not only confusing and non specific, it is also leeching off of straight relationship nomenclature. Though I am a master wordsmith, I am so far drawing a blank on what these new titles need to be. I generally like to modifiy existing words to fit my bastardy purposes. The words I am suggesting, however, do not exist as far as I know. Gay dudes, if you have to get married, which I am sad that you would stoop to this, I feel it is your responsibility to come up with language to cover this issue prior to being able to get married. It lets straight people address you in a normal fashion and we can pretend to be totally cool with what youre doing.

Last, and I am sure least of issues considered in gay marriages is the naming conventions. Heretofore, it was rare for a husband and wife to both be named terry and terri. While it happens, we can clearly tell the difference by the spelling. However, Roy McDonald and Roy Smith get married, now meet Roy and Roy Smith. Math is difficult and I don't want to bore anyone with complex equations, but there is way way more likelyhood of this happening now that dudes are getting married to other dudes. And you can't tell who is who by the spelling because they are both guys. Besides that this is confusing for the rest of us, it has an inevitable outcome. All kinds of guys running around getting called husband and husband, Roy Smith and Roy Smith. We will be so used to everything being all the same, human cloaning will suddenly be fine. Roy Smith and Roy Smith will go to the cloaning labs to get a couple more Roy Smiths. Who will bat an eye, there were already so many Roy Smith's running around, we won't even probably notice the cloaning has begun.

In short, I hope the gay people of America will reconsider. Go back to your hawt, buttery, gay orgies in gay dance clubs, and all the pole smoking gay action you can get! Commitment is a bummer, it is why straight people are divorcing each other in droves. Once married you will gain weight and start wearing sweat pants. Fat sweatpants are for straight people, that is why straight people like gay people, you dress well and take care of yourselves. Fat sweatpants gay guys don't get into buttery orgies. Just ask Al Roker. And for the love of all that is holy, if you have to get married, leave cloaning out of it.

1-800-bite-me

2008-06-27T00:51:00.000-07:00

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate driving. In fact, without considering the redonkulous price of gas, driving is enjoyable. However, it seems there are people out there who would like if I did not consider it a pleasure. In fact, I think there are people out there who want me to hate to drive. Conspiracy? I like to think so, but in fact, it probably isn't. It is probably just a lot of stupid people doing stupid things.

I am going to begin making bumper stickers for those of you who want them. We have all seen the "How's my driving? 1-800-EAT SH!T. Well, if you haven't seen it, now you know about it. You're welcome. I want to make one for my car with my actual phone number. This way, when some dolt in a near by car makes me wanna kill an old guy, they will call the number to report my driving. I think I will answer and be super nice to them, let them know that we have been having some troubles with the driver they are reporting. Thank them for their time and energies. Then, I will use their number for a reverse look up and find out whose cell phone that was that called me. Since I was so nice to them on the phone, will they see me coming? No, they will not. I think I have given birth to a whole new syndrome. Intermittent Road Revenge. It's where I get mad at someone today, but wait and then burn their house down the next night. Plus, it is a syndrome, it is nothing I can help. I have a sickness, it is a disease. I am the victim here, not those horrible people whose house I just burnt down. They were oppressors. 78 year old oppressors in a in a late model caddy. Bastards.

Giving birth is tiring, but rewarding and fulfilling. I think I need a snack and a nap, and maybe a shower.

Quick to rage.

2008-05-14T18:17:00.000-07:00

Want to make the ladies go wild with anger? The next one who attributes a short coming to PMS just say:

"Oh you mean Pretend Menstrual Syndrome?"

What happens after that is not my fault. You said that crap, not me.

Fat guy, bicycles

2008-03-08T21:44:00.000-08:00

I am not a math genius, exactly. And professionally speaking, I am not really a physicsologist either. Math and physics are both kind of hobbies for me. Like spelling, botany, fencing, blogifying and ice sculpting to name a few of my other hobbies. I do too ice sculpt, I make tiny statues out of ice cubes and they melt before people get to see them, but they are for real, and quiet exquisite.

Anyways, it occurred to me the other day that riding a bike might be good for loosing a couple extra pounds of tubbiness as this is The Year of the Statue. In fact, it occurred to me that it would be extra good right now, as I am heavier, therefore making it more difficult to ride a bike, which makes riding a bike a better work out. Which is weird because the more I ride a bike, the more fat I loose, which means I become lighter, which in turn makes riding a bike less of a good work out.

Not only is riding a bike more difficult if you are heavy, it is also more fun. For instance, a tubby dude and a skinny dude each ride a bicycle to the top of a hill. Both have to work, which means neither had a great time. However, the tubby guy has a bigger sense of accomplishment because he has a fatter ass, yet made it to the top of the same hill. So he worked harder, and got more of a workout. Then, as the two head down the hill, the chuck is gonna go infinitely faster because he is heavier, while the skinny guy isn't going to go as fast, which means the tubby guy is gonna have more fun. Infinitely you say? Yes, if it is an infinitely long hill, then the tubby guy will go infinitely faster than the skinny guy. Infinities are weird, I will save explaining them for another blog post.

So, all this math and physicsing goes to show that riding a bike will be good for me until I shed a couple unwanted pounds of baby fat. After that I am going to have to eat a lot of donuts and ice cream to continue getting the same work out. I am suddenly more excited about working out then ever!

Sh!t eatting grin?

2008-02-21T16:12:00.001-08:00

Who says this? And why?

Recently I have heard a couple of people use this expression and I can't imagine a stupider expression. Ok, ok, you got me. I can imagine it but I am hard pressed to do so. Alright already, get off my freaking back, I can come up with 2 or 3 stupider expressions inside a minute, but they would be made up, and not in use, like this stupid expression.

Why on earth, why on earth and in the heavens would anyone have a sh!t eating grin? They wouldn't. Poop is gross. Eating it is repugnant. Vile. It is disgusting. In fact, there is a scene in Anchor Man with Ron Burgundy where he is made to taste poop. It is obviously a low light for him He is disgusted by it and doesn't want to eat the poop. But then, when he realizes he is such a wretch that it doesn't matter, he eats the poop anyways. Does he grin during any part of this? No, he does not. Why? Because eating sh!t is not a grinning matter. So, in short, this is a stupid expression which should be stricken from vocabularies everywhere. Next time you need to explain a grin, think of something that actually makes people grin. Like cake. Or flirting. Or kittens. Or boobies. A boobie sucking grin? Appropriate. A sh!t eating grin? Non existent...

chronic and aggressive masturbation

2008-01-25T17:20:00.000-08:00

With a title like that, I knew you couldn't get to reading this post fast enough.

Really, it is a problem that plagues more people than you know. You are not alone. Chronic Masturbaters (or CMS--Chronic Masturbation Syndrome) often feel alone in the overwhelming sexual urges that drive them to masturbate incessantly. Late for work, yes, but you still need to pound one out. Hungry for lunch? Of course, but you're not going anywhere until you find that quiet spot in the stairwell and release the sexual tension built up inside. Raw and starting to bleed? Doesn't matter, just gotta finish up this last time, then it will be time to take a break and let things heal. At least, that is what you keep telling yourself.

Worry no more my friends. And welcome to The Mastubatorium.

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A statue

2007-12-13T16:44:00.000-08:00

So far, my life has been mostly unremarkable as far as being in the public eye goes. As far as being in the private eye, that has been extremely remarkable, but because it is private, cannot be remarked on. Yes, I know, it is a shame. I am not dead yet, and no one ever knows what the future might hold for them. So, it is possible I could lead a resistance, or a movement, I could lead a country, or I could take over Texas, and then France, any of those things could make me famous. I might even father a country, that sounds enjoyable.

If such events take place in my future, there could end up being a statue erected in my honor. "erected in my honor" is a good phrase, I am glad I just coined it.

I don't know how statue makers go about making a statue, especially of someone who is already passed on to the great beyond. I have not had to register any measurements anywhere in the event that after I am dead, a statue of me is erected. So, how does anyone decide what I looked like? My fear is some statue maker would get pictures of me from who only knows, and that is how they would form the statue. Seriously statue guy, my high school year book pics, off limits.

As many, or the 3 or 4 of you that read this, of you know, I work out. Maybe not everyday, but enough to be hard. Plus I come from the streets. But while my abs are hard enough to reflect bullets, I have to add a little extra to keep at my fighting weight. All this to say, I look good, but not like the thinker, or atlas, or that really huge guy at my gym that sings really loud with his headphones on, but no one will tell him because he is that huge and scowls all the time.

So, 2008 is going to be the year of the statue. Or, The Year of the Statue. I am going to shed pounds, and drop under my fighting weight. It is important to be thin and trim, even if only for a short time, in order to have a lot of pictures taken of me for the statue that may or may not be erected in my honor. I have to look good as a statue, I don't want to be immortalized as portly, or thick. I think I might even mark the pictures as "in case of statue" or something.

At the foot of the possible future statue I hope it either says simply "Erected in my honor." or, "There is a fine line between glib and jocular." Obscure, perhaps. But true, the line between being jocular and glib is thin... Thin and dangerous.

General Mills, not general and also not a mill.

2007-11-16T15:30:00.000-08:00

I came into this thinking I didn't have any kind of personal beef with General Mills, but it turns out I do. Apparently they either started Olive Garden and still own it, or started it and spun it off into some other corporation. Either way, Olive Garden sucks ass, and not in a good way. Where else do you pay 12 bucks for ravioli's and only get 10 of them? Just because you offer all you can eat break sticks and salad doesn't mean that I am going to eat a metric ton of breadsticks and salad. I didn't order vast quantities of either. I appreciate that they are available to me, but what I really wanted was ravioli which is why I ordered it. There should be enough of what I ordered to make a meal, not a light snack. Unless they are golden raviolis, not meant for human consumption, than over a dollar a ravioli is a rip off, no matter where you are. Oh yeah, Olive Garden, your bread sticks and salad? Not that good. While it is important that you all know Olive Garden blows chunks, it is not the purpose of this post, and I only bring it up to air my one known issue with General Mills. Which, oddly, is not related to this topic.

A mill is a place someone would take a bunch of wheat or grain, drop it off and let the mill worker people grind it up into flour. Or, you might take a bunch of trees to a mill and have them milled into pulp for paper, or particle board or lumber. A mill is a specific kind of place. Specific raw materials go to a mill, and specific products come out of a mill. General Mills? So, if I show up over there with some fish, some nickel ore, some trees and some wheat, General Mills will mill it all up and give it all back to me milled? They have a mill that somehow mills, ya know, whatever gets thrown in there? I wonder what a milled bicycle would look like? Their mill is general, I will take a bicycle there and pay to have it milled, just to see the outcome.

General Mills is best known for their cereal. Don't look for me to site a source there, it is so obvious that is what they are known for sighting it would be a waste of my time. Like you all knew they were responsible for Olive Garden... There is nothing on the planet or off, that when run through a mill, comes out the other end Captain Crunch (yes I know that Cap'n crunch is made by Quaker Oats, but in this case, cereal is cereal. I will address in another post why Pepsi is making cereal...) I would like to see whatever it is that gets milled down into a Lucky Charm. I think Lucky Charms are conjured and are somewhat other worldly. Certainly not milled. In fact, no raw material goes into a mill and comes out a finished product...except for maybe pepper. And even then pepper is debatable, I have never heard of anyone having pepper as anything other than a light topping to food or adding a dash of pepper to something. I wonder if General Mills makes pepper? Probably not. Mills, by and large, make ingredients that go into other products. Do you eat flour, or is it an ingredient. Shut up, it is an ingredient, and you know it, smartass.

General Mills makes food. Not ingredients. They might could be called "Specific Mills" because they don't mill whatever is given to them. They mill very specific things. However, I wouldn't be surprised if they milled nothing at all, but relied on other mills to get the ingredients that go into their products. In which case, they are not a general or specific mill, General Mills is not a mill at all. It should be called "fake mills", or "Mills of Yore". Because they used to mill stuff, but don't anymore. Maybe they could change their name to "Food Company" Even "General Food Company" since they like the word general so much. And the food they make seems pretty random to me. Maybe just "Random Foods" or "General Random Foods." Still vague, but more accurate.

United States Easement

2007-11-13T13:43:00.000-08:00

Who is tired of being cut off from Alaska? I mean who besides me... I am so tired of hearing candidates run on the same old crap, the war, the economy, the environment, is Pluto a planet or a dwarf planet.... Who cares? I did care, but I have thought about it all so much, I don't care anymore. My brain hurts from caring too much, and now I have to care about different things for awhile. Like a moonbase. We need one of those, and any candidate who told me they were going to set up a base on the moon would have my vote. Unless, someone running against that candidate said we needed an easement to Alaska. I know our hockey playing, beer drinking, lumberjack neighbors to the north have been friendly enough, but they do sit between a lot of the United States and one State what needs to be United with the rest of the states so they are all contiguous (cept for Hawaii, that is, for now.)

Below is a picture of what I recommend for an easement to Alaska:

As you can see, the ecommended easement is in red, white and blue. I think this easement should become the 51st state. I have already been thinking California needs to be broken into 2 states, Northern and Southern California. But, in light of this new easement, I think Southern California should be a state, Northern California should become a new state and should be called Middle California, and the new easement territory should be called Northern California. Though that is kind of confusing since Oregon and Washington are both in the way. Plus, then it would be 52 states with the splitting up of the original California. Maybe we should just call it Old Canada? Kind of an honorary thing for the former owners. We could even change Canada's national anthem a little to make it the new easement state song, it would go "Old Canada" instead of "O Canada" though the second line would also have to change from "our home and native land!" to something like "our brand new easement land!" Also, in the second verse, Canadians might want to change the song from "How dear to us the broad domain, from East to Western sea!" to something like "How dear to us the broad domain from Eastern sea to the border of Old Canada!" That is just a suggestion though, Canadians can fix or not fix the song however they see fit, Canada will just not border the Pacific anymore at all, so the song might be a reminder of when they did. Maybe Canadians will like that for the sake of nostalgia?

It will be nice having a new state. Hopefully it takes the pressure off of real estate prices for awhile, the new territory will provide lots of new opportunity for house building, I mean, once it is settled and all. Maybe I will move there to help settle it, it would be like cowboy times, border towns where a middle aged outlaw can make a name for himself. Or maybe I will settle there and be a law man, stopping outlaws from making names for themselves in the new wild west, I will serve up justice and hot iron and cold steel, Old Canada style!

water landing.

2007-09-24T05:11:00.000-07:00

I don't normally fly across country, but yesterday I did. I flew Delta, which was also maybe a first. Although I have traveled a lot, I just don't think I have had much occasion to fly Delta.

On Delta's preflight instructions, they said something I don't believe I have heard before, and I found it unsettling. It was a prerecorded video, and they said in the event of a water landing, most cushions on the plane make good floatation devices.

I don't remember hearing about too many plane crashes on the news that involved a successful water landing. By that I mean big planes that crash into the ocean where people actually survive. But, I am a survivor, I like to think that if my plane (that mostly only flew over the continental US) somehow crash landed in the ocean, I would live through it. I am tough and resourceful if nothing else. What pisses me off is, after making it through the crash, I could sink like a stone having grabbed one of the few cushions on board that doesn't make a good floatation device. Seriously Delta, either ALL the cushions need to be outstanding floatation devices, or the ones that don't need to be marked as such. In the event of a catastrophic disaster, I need to be able to tell quickly and easily without a doubt...Which freaking cushion floats!

Luckily, we landed safely on land. I am pretty sure I had one of the very few nonfloating cushions on my seat.

Cellphones & the justice system.

2007-08-28T10:42:00.000-07:00

What a mixed bag. I have a cell phone. I kinda like it. I don't use it often, but I like the option. Mine also has a camera. I like to think I am going to get a picture of the truly remarkable things I see everyday, but unless I either have it poised and ready, or a girl decides to flash me longer than normal, I don't get too many pics with my phone cam. However, this is just to say, I don't hate technology, and I don't hate cell phones.

Cell phone use is out of control. Do I mean that too many people are using them? No, I don't. I mean that too many people are using them poorly. If you don't agree with me, then you are part of the problem.

For those of you who agree and are not part of the problem, killing someone for poor cell phone use should be legal. By poor use I mean poor manners. While I hate loud cell conversations in movie theaters and restaurants, or people walking around completely oblivious to their surroundings, the worst are people driving while talking. I don't really notice those of you wearing headsets driving poorly, it is invariably the person trying to drive, talk and manage a handset. Whichever kind of quadtard it is, either the walking kind or the driving kind, certain updates need to be made to our judicial system in order to handle these types of cases.

Before you do away with the cell phone offender you must select 12 people who agree with you that who you want to do is fine. These 12 people will come to court with you, after the fact, when you are charged with murder. They are your preselected jury. The court will then proceed to select its own jury. The prosecution will make its case, then defense will make its case. The Juries will deliberate. Both juries will deliberate separately. When decisions are reached, both juries will come and read their verdicts. If your preselected jury doesn't agree with the court appointed jury, then under the Lester clause*, the juries will enter a battle royale', hand to hand combat, in which the verdict will be decided by which jury is still standing at the end. So, pick your jury wisely.

Really, this accomplishes 2 separate goals. One, I am pretty sure it would cut back on frivolous cell use. When you know that anyone who already has a standing jury ready to go can legally cap you for making a left against the light because you're were too busy discussing which outfit you should get your dog for Halloween, you might think twice. Or, you might be chaff what needs separating from the wheat. Either way really is fine with me. The second, awesome, collateral goal accomplished under this new law, personal fitness. Tomorrow you could get a summons to jury duty. That means inside the month, you could be fighting an elite fighting force that hates frivolous cell phone use with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns. I would like to think that the threat of a fight to the finish would find out society slimming down the fat, bulking up the muscle, and becoming somewhat easier on the eye in the process. Eat and drink and tomorrow you will die. Lift and train, and you might live to see another day!

*There's no exact wording of the "Lester clause", just her bog. Shallon thought up the fighting part, which is a great idea, so I am siting my source.

When I am dictator...

2007-08-22T16:14:00.000-07:00

Really, a lot will change. Blowjob Fridays, Drunk Naked Day (National Holiday), the speed limit thing... seriously, lots will change. However, a not so obvious change that needs to be made is to our national fighting forces. Do I have a problem with our troops? Hell no, what do I look like, a terrorist? A Nazi? A hippie? No, no and no. But we do need to straighten some things out, as well as add a branch to our war machine.

Currently, our super elite flying crew belongs to the navy. The Navy, ya know, the ones with the boats? The Air force flies around bombers and drones, but the f-18s and what all, yeah, those guys are sailors. What? That's right, sailors. Like Popeye. The Marines ride around in other peoples stuff and hop out when it is time to fight. So Marines jump out of planes. Why wouldn't they, they are Marines. I will tell you why, they have the word Marine right in the title. They should jump out of boats. The Air Force should fly stuff, all the flying stuff should belong to the Air Force. The only reason Air Force guys should be on a boat is because we don't have the technology to make a flying aircraft carrier...yet. *note to self, get DARPA started on flying aircraft carrier* oh yeah and...*note to self, run time travel machine notes by guys at DARPA, see what they think* Dictators can get help with personal, pet projects. I would do it myself, but I am busy being dictator. And, getting help from secret, shady Government agencies is just one of the many benefits of being dictator.

Now, with who does what all straightened out, Navy drive boats, Marines ride in boats and get dropped off here and there for fighting purposes. Air force gets all the flying stuff. Army drives everything on the ground, tanks, jeeps and what not... There has to be a new force that fly around in Air force stuff getting dropped off to fight. But what to call them? Stormtroopers sounds good, but both the Nazi's and Darth Vader already used that name. Skydudes doesn't really sound elite enough. Skyguard sounds kinda cool, but they won't guard the sky, they will rain like fire and ants down to earth and destroy whatever's in their paths. Stormnados. "The infantry will be reinforced by Marines traveling north from beachhead Charlie. Stormnados, dropped in the cover of night 2 clicks south of Tango sector, will be reinforcing the flank." Stormnados, part storm, part tornado, part commando, all elite. The scourge of the sky, our enemies will call them.
*note to self, have DARPA start experimenting on flying Stormnados, like superman, but without the cape and tights, and with huge guns....Also, have them look into self cooking pancakes. Pancakes are delicious*

This is a test

2007-07-24T01:06:00.000-07:00

This is a test of the emergency blogcast system, this is only a test. If this had been a real emergency, it would have been followed by instructions and yelling. This concludes my test of the emergency blogcast system.

Where do I sign up?

2007-07-24T01:03:00.000-07:00

http://www.abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory?id=3290496

For those of you who don't want to click the link because it doesn't go to mindless porn, or even thoughtful porn, the story is about a taxpayer funded apartment building in Seattle, where the rent is next to nothing. The tenents? The worst inebriates the city has to offer. For less than 200 a month, I could have a decent apartment in seattle and all I have to do is make sure I stay drunk and try not to beat up other tenants? Where I live now, they kinda frown on beating up other tenants, so I am used to that rule. Currently though, everyone seems to expect that I won't drink so much that I can't go to work. In fact, consumption of alcohol isn't pushed where I live at all. Imagine this bliss. No one expects you to go to work...that is time you could and really, you should be drinking.

It doesn't say if there is any kind of back ground check to make sure you get money from somewhere. Like the government in the form of retirement, or disability.... disability, hmmmmm, I wonder if I could get a disability leave, and eventually leave my job with a disability and draw disability checks all for drinking too much. Maybe you see where I am going with this, but if somehow my boss found my blog, I will spell it out: I could leave my crappy job for drinking too much and get rent money to live in seattle. I hear Seattle is lovely this time of year, especailly if you're drunk. These apartments make the Boozefort I was building in the bushes at work look so third world.

Hopfully soon they will be opening some Murder Apartments...in a community far far far away from Seattle, like maybe a community in Siberia. I have a list of people I will be singing up to move in there. I have personally begun drawing plans for the Sex with Hawt Ladies Apartments I will be building right nextdoor to the Booze Apartments. The Sex apartments I have slated to be finished and occupancy to begin right as I move into the Booze apartments right next door. I can hardly wait.

Flushless Urinals.

2007-06-19T15:56:00.000-07:00

If you worked in the same building with these things everyday, you would think a lot about them too. Above each one, so for dudes, as you are using this thing, you are staring at a sign stating:

I struggle with math in general, math is the so called difficult. It is even more difficult when I am holding my breath. What this picture doesn't capture is the wretched stink emanating from these urinals. I am sure that the oil they use in these in place of water is made from sorrow, disappointment and the lost souls of children.

Back to the math thing though, Out of the gate I am troubled when I say, there are 52 weeks in a year, and I multiply 52 by 7 and get 364. I thought there were generally held to be 365 days in a year, but whatever, nothing is perfect, not even math. So, we will figure that since I made these calculations, they are all rough, like my personality.

This, as previously established, is a state school, which means take the normal amount of work days a year, roughly 260 (52 x 2=104 weekend days, -364ish days a year) and subtract about 12 from that for the holidays we celebrate. The week off at the end of the year, the 2 days around thanks giving, Martin Luther King Day, President's Day, Spring Day, 4th-o-July, it adds up. So, we are all here roughly 258 days a year.

I don't know how much water the average urinal uses when you flush it. I am going to guess somewhere around 1/3 of a gallon. I seriously doubt it is that much, it is prolly far less, but taking a third makes the math more difficult and me far more prone to making a mistake, which is good times.

First, I will take 40,000 and divide it by 258 to get a number I can work with, you know, to sound smart. On my calculator, I get either .00645 or 155.lotsofothernumbers. I am going to go with the 155 because that sounds more like what I suspected. So, if a regular urinal flushed a gallon at a time, which it certainly does not, I would have to flush one 155 times a day, every work day, to use up 40,000 gallons a year. But more math to get closer to a real estimate. 155 x 3 = 465. 465 times a day a urinal would have to flush to use that much water. Seems unlikely so far. Now for the time trials....

I timed how long it takes me to use a urinal. I will say up front, I don't really get stage fright, however, I don't imagine I am the fastest person on the planet when it comes to unfastening the apparatus holding my pants closed. That's right, I said apparatus, and that's all you need know. Also, I let the timer go a few seconds long because I didn't need the other guy in there spreading rumors. So, all that to say individual results may vary. Rounding off for slightly easier math, I came up with one minute.

That means that in a 9 hour day, there is only 1 hour and 15 minutes when each urinal is not in constant use. This is an office building, not the stadium at the super bowl....

*cough cough bullshit cough* 40,000 gallons of year my ass. My scientific conclusion is, we are not saving enough water to make the stench worth it. Why not just fill urinals with salt water, that isn't potable anyways, and then maybe the bathroom would smell kinda like the ocean. It would make me wanna talk like a pirate.

Manifestos

2007-06-18T21:25:00.000-07:00

So, I gave it some time, but it is still on my mind. Nothing funny about the most recent manifesto in the news. In fact, that sort of thing sucks. Nobody should have to get shot ever, except a short list of people I keep pinned to the wall in my closet by that alter I made with pictures of everyone on the list, but with the eyes poked out of the picture so they look like how I see them when I am sleeping, or when I hear voices talking about the people on the list and they tell me to picture those people...For whatever reason, they don't have eyes when I picture them. Weird huh? I think so too. Wait, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, writing a manifesto.

The Virginia Tech gunman was an English major. If the entire manifesto ever got published, I didn't see it. But what I did read of it, it was embarrassing...let's just say that I am considering finishing out my PhD in order to offer a manifesto writing class.

Read the Unabomber manifesto. I take that back, don't. I've read shorter books. A manifesto should be pointed. There might be a lot of good ideas in the Unabomber manifesto, but I wouldn't know, it didn't come with a table of contents or pictures or Cliff's notes. And I am sure as hell not gonna read the whole thing to find out if it has a happy ending when I can't even tell for sure what it's going to be about. There isn't even a cover with a picture. The part of it I read was very well written, but it didn't have a hook. Nothing exciting enough to keep me reading. 5 pages or less ought to do it. The shorter the better, keep it concise. If your manifesto has to outline a New World Order in great detail, then go ahead and write it all out, then write a synopsis. Keep the manifesto synopsis to a page or less about your New World Order, and don't be disappointed, I mean anymore than you already were that you felt the need to write a manifesto, when the synopsis is all people read.

The Virginia Tech manifesto was only 5 pages, and what's better is it was a multimedia manifesto. At least that is what Brian Williams called it 37 times a minute. Props for using pictures, although the picture with the hammer, really? If your manifesto has you going out in a blaze of glory, do your best not to look completely lame. Also, avoid the use of "they" and "them". Stop and think while writing your manifesto, "they who?" The voices? The Government? The Jews? Aliens? Gay people? Christians? The terrorists? Your roommates? Who is making you commit atrocities? If you tell us all you had to do these things, whatever terrible thing you plan to do, tell us all why it isn't your fault. What terrible wrongs you are righting, who is driving you, who is forcing your hand. Statements are more powerful when we are all clear on who is the tyrant and why you, the manifesto writer, are a victim. Don't get me wrong, I am sure anyone out there working on a manifesto right now is a victim. I am sure there is a tyrant, or tyrants. Not doubting your claims, just helping you make them more boldly.

I feel like I have given away too much of my course work already. It'll be hard to get you all in class for a full semester, and even more difficult to buy the manifesto writing textbook I have in the works, if I give away too much right now. At least this has you working on writing your manifesto more clearly and concisely and hopefully has you leaving out any lame pictures. I hope to see you all in class soon. And if you have time in your schedule, take my other course on interwebs chatting.

Oh yeah, I meant to tell you all, I am sure the FBI won't be keeping close tabs on everyone who registered for the class. Especially those who registered and then didn't show. Nothing to worry about here at all.

Alcohol and man love.

2007-06-06T01:50:00.000-07:00

As mentioned in a previous post, I like the lemony beer. Often people remark that drinking it is less manly. Personally, I am ok with this. I know if I break the lemony beer bottle on the closest hard surface, the jagged glass I am left with will be every bit as sharp as with a normal bottle of beer. And, as it slices the person mocking me, I know it will come as a big shock that they are standing in a river of their own blood and sorrow caused by my so called "froofy drink" bottle. Tell the surgeon you were cut with the bottle from a froofy drink, I mean when/if your voicebox heals up.

The less than manly thing due to the contents of the bottle aside, I sorta don't get the name. Mike's Hard. I used to like Doc Otis, but I guess they went out of business, ground under by Mike's Hard. It is a great product, don't get me wrong, I really enjoy it. But Mike' s Hard? How did that make it off the drawing board? Don't you people have a committee that says "Mike's Hard might imply something other than hard lemonade." Mike's hard what? Personally, I am very secure in my sexuality, whatever it might happen to be today, but I feel a little ripped off by this. Maybe even a little cheap. "Yeah, hand a me Mike's Hard." It sounds very straight, just like two straight guys having hawt man on man secks. Just a couple of dudes doing what comes naturally when they are alone and naked with a stick of butter and some candles. None of that gay stuff of course, just very very straight man on man secks. Not that there is anything wrong with the gay stuff, it just isn't for totally straight guys...totally straight guys who are totally into other totally straight guys.

Along these same lines is another of my favorites. Captain Morgan. Got a little Captain in you? Do I have a little captain in me? No, I don't, but I bet the Captain has a Mike's Hard in him. Makes me feel like these two power house booze related icons get together one weekends. Mike's Hard has a little Captain in him and the Captain is having one Mike's Hard after another.
I should bottle a drink. I will take whatever fluid is left over from Mike's Hard and the Captain's weekend trysts and bottle it. "Manbutter" will be the name of the drink. My tag line might be, "Manbutter, drink it in the closet." Or maybe something more like: "Manbutter, ya know, for straight guys who like to hang around and party with other straight guys." Or "Manbutter, let your buddy spill this all over your face!"

I wonder what Mike's last name is? Why couldn't they just go with Smith's or Walker's. Leave the "hard" out altogether. We get that it has alcohol in it, that's why we find it with all the other beers and have to show ID to buy it. Or conversely, put it in a pink bottle with Hello Kitty on it and market it as real lemony for ladies and guys who wish they were. And Captain Morgan, you're a freaking Pirate. Change your tag line to "lets pillage for booty!" Or "The Captain says: Aye Matey, lets sack the ..." nevermind. They should replace Captain Morgan with a ninja who doesn't say anything at all, but quietly assinates you in the middle of the night. Ninja Rum! Die in your sleep! I would drink that for sure.

Catch and Release...

2007-06-06T01:28:00.000-07:00

I am not much of a fisherman, nor am I much of a hunter. I imagine I could be. I am pretty sure I could bring down wild game armed only with a shiv and not just a will, but the will to survive. I picture myself sometimes, out in the middle of the wilderness, hiding in an ally, or wherever you hide in the wilderness, waiting to surprise a large animal with a bullet to the brain. It seems like fun. I would like to see the animal's surprised look. Who expects to get shot? No one, that's who. Surprise bear! I have an assault riffle.

Some people would have you believe that hunting is not fun. That it is in fact cruel. It seems odd to me that someone can't find the joy in killing some unsuspecting wild animal... Each kill should be considered a celebration of giant brains and opposable thumbs mixed into one delicious, deadly species that would otherwise be a soft, tasty treat in the food chain. But, far be it from me to be insensitive to those I don't understand, like straight people.

Some fisherman have a catch and release policy, which is not a bad idea. Although, when a fish is caught, a super sharp hook just gets yanked back out of there stomachs. I know a guy who I call "Jay" that I suspect does that hook thing for fun. But shooting an animal in the heart with an arrow that is all razor sharp with three prongs that twist like a corkscrew..well, that is more difficult to yank out of the animal before sending it on its way. I think catch and release hunters ought to hunt with a vet along. Really it is win win. The hunter gets the pure, wholesome elation of mortally wounding an animal wondering the wilderness. The vet gets to practice emergency procedures in a real life setting.

Say I am a catch and release hunter, and while ambling along, I see a bear. Of course I am going to take my 9mm and put 4 or 5 rounds somewhere around his neck because seriously, where the hell would you shoot a bear? Yeah everyone!!! I got him! Did you see the look on his face?!?! Surprise bear! Then, phase 2! The vet immediately rushes in with the bear med kit. Really, I don't know where it goes from there, but hopefully, without getting mauled, the vet will stitch the bear up and nurse it back to health. That way it will live for another day, when I can shoot it again.

Under Construction.

2007-06-01T18:12:00.000-07:00

I pretty much spend my life in a building that's under construction. If you're going to be doing any construction to a building you occupy, or even if you work in a place that is about to undergo serious remodeling, demand to see the palettes before work begins. Even if work is almost complete really, you should demand to see them. Specifically, demand the smell palette. What you say? You don't even know what a smell palette is? Prolly neither does your builder, which means you need to educate them on what they need to supply. Each phase should have a smell palette. The demolition phase might have a palette that smells a lot like dust, and concrete. Maybe with a hint of electrical fire... Make sure to add cigarette smoke to the palette. (California has strict no smoking policies. I think it might even be illegal to smoke inside your own house. It's weird to smell cigarette smoke inside a public building, but the night time construction workers obviously smoke while working inside, so add it to the palette and give me no more lip). Also, add the smell of 2 week old fast food. Just do it.

The second phase should smell like disappointment. As deadlines get pushed back further and further, the smell of disappointment is palpable. Also somewhat indescribable, but I need the palette delivered to me. It is up to the builder to come up with the smell of disappointment, which I am sure is particular to each builder anyways. I need to know what I am going to be facing when the job is 2 or 3 months over due.

Waterless Urinals in the men's room? Lemme get a whiff of that swatch before I say yes or no. 40,000 gallons a year is a lot of water to save, on the other hand, if you can't flush it, why spend money on toilets at all, why not just put in a couple of extra drains in the floor. The smell test will be critical to this decision... Anyone who smells one of those urinals after it has been in business for awhile I am sure would opt to skip it and drive into the bad part of town and use the oldest gas station bathroom they can find. It would smell better.

I am prolly gonna want the smell of burnt metal as a swatch. I don't even know what they were doing to produce that smell, but it was there, and I would liked to know I was going to be subjected to that before hand. A variety of paint smells should be represented. I am sure there are going to be a lot of swatches that I smell first and go "what the hell is this?!?!" and then look at the description so I will know about where construction is when I smell it. The smell of new carpet mixed with a wretched stink that makes me dizzy means the rooms are almost ready to occupy. But the smell of electrical fire mixed with dead rodents and fiberglass means "don't open that door...seriously"

Boat Party!!!

2007-06-01T16:55:00.000-07:00

Costco is crazy. If I was gonna have a boat party, I would have a few things ready. Obviously, I would have a boat. Prolly some beer, and some lemony beer. F-you, lemony beer is too beer, get your own blog. I would have bbq-ables prolly. I am sure I would have some chocolate around somewhere because that's how I roll. One thing that I would make sure that I had, is some water to put my boat in. Lacking enough water makes for one lame ass boat party. Turns out Costco objected to having a boat party in their parking lot anyways. I wonder if I can still get my money back for the thong I bought just for the Costco boat party?

Headed to the future?

2007-05-03T11:27:00.000-07:00

Everyone that reads this blog knows I am nearing completion on my time machine project. Soon I will be racing back and fourth in time, past, present, future, meaningless. I will be when I want to be.

Recently though, I have been doing some thinking. The plan has always been the stereotypical show up 10 million years ago to show cavemen how my Remington 870 works. And my bic lighter. And my shoes. With those items I would rule the world. Or I could learn a painful lesson of the inaccuracies of things like carbon dating, but that of course is a post for after I have done a little time traveling.

I might have a new plan. It isn't completely flushed out yet, but I might need to head to the distant future to show off my crazy antiquated technology. In fact, I might even have to go into the past to get technology that is much older than what is available to me today. I can't claim to have invented it, history books will have recorded who actually did. But by the time people have evolved to jellyfish looking things, me and my plow are going to be very, very impressive. My shoes will also be very impressive to the future humans who no longer have feet and navigate the atmosphere much like fish navigate water. As well my Remington 870. I hope in a few billion years eBay is still around. I will be a rich, rich time traveler by selling Atari 2600s new out of the box to the jellyfish humans who will need to regrow opposable thumbs. It is a crazy world we will live in.

Interwebs Chat 101

2007-05-01T16:31:00.000-07:00

That's right everyone, I am going to be starting a class on chatting on the interwebs. Not just any class, oh no, a very special class. Chatting is one thing. Anyone can do it, it is a lot like talking, but you type what you would say instead. No worries though, we will cover that right away, prolly in the beginning of the first session. For the rest of the semester, we will focus on naughty talk over chat.

Chat is an interesting thing. In real life, most people avoid talking to complete strangers; you get a wrong number on your phone, you don't tell the wrong number person what you would do to them if you were suddenly stuck in an elevator alone with them. People say things in chat because they are in chat. Many people would never talk all naughty to anyone in real life, but remove the face to face element, and the sex fiend comes out. rawr. But, sadly, because naughtyness is rarely discussed, the degrees at which people in general are skilled in it varies widely and wildly. Luckily, I have developed curriculum. You're welcome.

Pull out your....pencils or pens and notebooks. I am glad some of you finished that sentence another way. You are already moving in the right direction. I realize this is a class on chatting in interwebs chat, but it won't be offered as an on line course for at least another semester. So, today we are going to role play a so called interwebs chat session. I want you to grab a partner and pull your desks together. Great, now, I want you to describe in great detail what you would do to your partner given 7.5 minutes alone in a supply closet at the airport. And please, it is important that you don't give out your real names to each other, so if you bother with introductions, give out fake names. If I find out you have given out your real name, you will get no points for class participation today. Fellas in the back of the room, what is going on back there? You grouped with the person closest to you, don't split up because you are both dudes. I don't care if neither of you swing that way, it is the interwebs here we are talking about, if this was an actual chat session, one or both of you would be pretending to be female. I don't care how you work it out, but you talk dirty to each other in vr, so I think you can handle in in rl.

Why aren't you all talking over there? Do you have multiple chat windows open and you are chatting other hotter people? It is role play, so I know that you don't. Difficult to get started when you are face to face? Why don't you tell her you wanna "ram it in deep" or "lick her all over"? Awkward when you are face to face? How can that be, get over it, tell her how you wanna rip all those buttons off her shirt and slake her smooth, supple white skin. I feel like I am giving away the assignment up here. Think people, what items would you find in the supply closet at the airport? Maybe use something you imagine in there to get your started?

If you are paired with someone in class today and they just aren't doing it for you, try sending someone hotter in a nearby group a mistell. Pretend you are in the middle of a steamy chat with your current partner, but send that steamy one liner to the hotter person in the other chat "by accident", then quickly type "doh, MT, keep that on the down low!" And maybe that will spark a better conversation.

Keep in mind that, through all of this, if you set up a meeting outside of interwebs chat class 101, the person isn't going to look like you thought they did in class. Further, you will be so nervous...you got along so great chatting in interwebs chat class, that you will act like a retard because you are too worried about being yourself. Next week we will talk about: suspending disbelief, how you can be talking to someone when you say you are down on them.

Nemisis

2007-03-21T14:52:00.000-07:00

Periodically, I write something about a store that doesn't make sense to me. I mean to say, the store doesn't make sense to me, what I write usually makes perfect sense....to me. The reason why there is no mention in this blog, heretofore, of CompUSA, is because I vowed to quit shopping there prior to writing this blog. I didn't do a campaign or boycott, I didn't vow publicly to quit shopping there and bid everyone else to do the same. I quietly hated it there so much, and when I say so much, I mean so much I wouldn't shop there at all. Even though I cap on Fry's, I would go there 100 time before I would go to CompUSA. In fact, I would sooner build a computer out of construction paper, paper clips and a soda machine then go to CompUSA. I would even write my own analog OS, which I might do anyways.

Imagine my delight, this week, when I drove through the area where CompUSA is located and saw some people holding signs what said, "CompUSA's going out of business sale" I quietly played my part for the past few years, and surprise! The sweeet sweeet taste of victory. BEHOLD, the vanquished!

I went there yesterday, to breath in the sweet stench of death, but it wasn't fulfilling... yet. They haven't even marked down their prices yet enough to be competitive. But, soon, it will all be over. The prices will fall, customers will come in and get excited about the deals they are getting, and then slit their wrists because the check out process is so long and arduous, not worth any amount of % off. Next time I will sneak my camera into the store. Hopefully you will get to watch with me as the local CompUSA breathes its final, humiliating breath.

Light saber fights

2007-03-19T09:42:00.000-07:00

I had collected some urls of light saber fights on youtube, but I can't find what I did with em, so if you wanna get in the mood for this post, go to youtube.com and search "light saber fight not France" and you will prolly see the same collection of awesomeness I saw.

Everyone knows that a real Jedi, and maybe even some not totally up to par Jedi's, are able to move things with the power of their mind. All Jedi's get their light saber knocked out of their hands from time to time and usually it goes flying way across the room. For a Jedi, no problem, they use the power of the force and it comes flying back to them.

A few things I don't get about light sabers. I don't understand how the saber part, that is made out of lights, knows to be a certain height? I am sure even in the Jedi world, length is important. It would be too embarrassing if you build a light saber and it turned out to be shorter than all the other Jedi's light sabers. I wouldn't even know how a Jedi would explain it. I picture at light saber practice, the new Jedi turns on his light saber along with all the other Jedis, the practice hall gets really quiet, everyone looks at the new Jedi with the short light saber. Then he shuts his saber off, grabs his stuff, and heads for some remote jungle planet to live out his shame alone for the rest of his life. Even the force isn't gonna help a Jedi recover from that kind of embarrassment.

I also don't understand why, everytime a light saber is dropped, it shuts off? I never noticed the Jedis making sure the tether was hooked up, so if they drop it, it automatically shuts off. Besides, safety tethers don't spell out intimidation. They just don't. Maybe light sabers don't take a jolt well?

I also don't understand why a light saber has an on switch. The same Jedi that can use the power of the force to recover the light saber knocked from his hand can't use the force to turn the saber on and off? That seems like the first rule of Jedi safety. "make sure the switch is on the inside so only Jedis can turn it off and on, that way you don't get jacked by some random asswipe who grabs your light saber when you aren't looking."

And regarding the off and on switch...If I was a Jedi locked in ultimate light saber combat (no, there is almost no way to make that sound more gay) I would not wait to use the power of the force to recover my dropped light saber. Nor would I use the power of the force to try and drop something really heavy on my opponents head, or to throw large heavy objects at him. He of course has these same abilities and will block all this stuff. Seeing my foe, I would start to charge from across the x-wing hanger bay. My foe, in an obvious frenzied bloodlust, would turn his light saber on and and begin searching the hanger bay for something huge to lob at me by using the force while scraping his light saber on stuff so it makes that shocking menacing sound and sparks. I would continue to charge him, using the force to make his special Jedi underpants too small and tight, also way too hot. My foe, not realizing this was possible by using the force, would quit scanning the hanger bay, and would pretty much take his eyes off me, his mind changing from ultimate doom to saving his precious, now squeezed and burning, Jedi jewels from utter destruction. Realizing at the last second that I am almost within striking distance, he would pull himself together, despite the horrendous pain, and swing his saber at me. Unflinching, I would use the power of the force to turn his light saber off, and turn mine on, in one easy easy, unblocked swing, I would cut my opponent in half, his last words would be thank you because dying is sweet sweet relief, both in general but especially to his now haggard and burning Jedi sack.

Wild cock

2007-03-19T09:29:00.000-07:00

If I would have been faster on the draw, I would have had a picture of it. I passed a rooster on the way to work. Do roosters graze? Maybe they eat small pebbles? This one was doing whatever roosters do, but it was doing it by the side of the freeway. This would not have surprised me if I lived in say, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Kansas, Missouri or any other midwestern flyover. But this is Southern California. Seriously, who brought a rooster here? Around here a rooster is an exotic pet, much like a bangle or a panda or a great white shark. Who lets their prized possession, their beloved exotic, rare rooster run around next to a freeway where someone might shoot it... Strange times indeed.

Travel naked!

2007-03-14T16:25:00.000-07:00

No, seriously, I like it. I like to be treated like I did something wrong. If you don't know what the back scatter x-ray machine is, or what it does, here is a little catch up reading:
http://www.swdtimes.com/swdtimes/2007/031307/story1.html http://www.ny1.com/ny1/content/index.jsp?stid=10&aid=67062 http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2007%5C03%5C08%5Cstory_8-3-2007_pg7_5 http://www.usatoday.com/travel/flights/2007-02-26-backscatter-usat_x.htm

Pick one, read them all, or search for a different one, they all kinda say the same thing. The TSA wants to see my sack, that's what it comes down to. And really, I kinda want them to see it. They would weep tears of joy, for a more beautiful sack has never been seen with backscatter x-ray.

I understand the need for security. I do. I don't want the plane I am on used as a missile. But it seems to me we are headed toward ruining our own freedom. I guess it is better that we ruin it instead of letting someone else ruin it for us.

I think, instead of the backscatter x-ray deal, we should just begin traveling naked. I like to travel and I have been on enough planes to know this isn't entirely appealing. I have seen plenty of people in airports that I would pay to never have to see them naked. But there is always a person or two who I wouldn't mind seeing naked. And I know I have been asked many many times to be seen naked, I am just that smoking hot. You know that I am.

I think if we all begin to travel naked, not only will there be no need for backscatter x-rays, strip searches, pat downs, shoe removal, and maybe even metal detectors, but we will be taking a step toward freedom, not away from it. Freedom from the restrictions of masking who we really are, with pants, and shirts. Free from the restrictions of ill fitting cheap clothing. Freedom to see each other for who we really are. Freedom and desire to go on huge diet and exercise programs. Freedom to feel awful about who we are and what we look like. All kinds of freedom. And I hope the airlines feel free to cover the seats in butcher paper that they change after every single flight, or I am also going to feel free to stand in the airplane the entire time no mater what that damn seat belt sign or the naked captain says.

Freeb!rds

2007-03-10T21:10:00.001-08:00

Last week, around this time, I was in Austin Texas. Some friends of mine took me to eat at Freeb!rds. If you are in the Austin area, I reccomend it. In fact, I am still thinking about it because it was really yum. Bonus points if you are good at sculpting with tinfoil. Anyways, all though the food was super good, it isn't why I bring up Freeb!rds. I bring it up because the location I ate at is on Bee Cave Rd. Do you have any idea how happy I am that I didn't not find the bee cave the road is named after? A freaking cave full of bees, and one so horrible that a road got named after it. I didn't travel the entire road, but I am sure some of the crossroads are stungtodeath lane, blood poisoning way, I can't breath because my throught is swollen ave, damnit all these stingers really hurt rd, CRAP! a cave full of bees, since when are caves full of bees parkway, that last one is kind of a long street name, and I didn't look on google maps, but I am pretty sure it is there. I imagine DANGER rd leads right to the mouth of the cave. I hope Freeb!rds isn't near the mouth of the cave. Next time I am in Austin, I wanna eat there again, but I want nothing to do with a cave full of bees. They ought to nuke the cave from orbit.

Fry's fry's fry's....

2007-03-08T15:52:00.000-08:00

I went to Fry's today to return something, obviously, and also to buy a card reader. The line for the return was fast. By fast I mean my friend "Jay" and I stood where a line would be if anyone else was in it while a pack of Fry's employees stood by the first register doing I don't know what for a minute or two until the pack broke up and one of them could help us. Mighty white of that guy to help us, I was beginning to think it was a self return register where I took care of the process on my own.

Anyways, he did as much of the return as he could, until he had to yell out, "need a key" then another guy had to come down and push some buttons on the register. A minute of button pushing and talking amongst themselves later, the second guy called out "manager" to which a third guy came over and pushed a few buttons. I didn't buy weapons grade uranium. I didn't buy that hardcore porn that is not legal in most states. I didn't buy an exotic pet. I bought a gig of ram and then returned it. Still in its package... That took 3 guys.

The goings on at Fry's I find extremely interesting from a business point of view. I am not a business genius, so Fry's business practices are a bit foreign to me. It's to be expected, I got a BA, not a BS or MBA. I would think that a business would want to have easy methods for accomplishing daily menial tasks. 3 employees needed for one simple return of a common product seems....excessive. I would love to see a flow chart for this kind of process. I am sure at Fry's they refer to them as "Process Labyrinths"

I purchased my card reader, which I can't hardly wait to return. "Jay" purchased some blank DVD's. On the way out, the guys who are there ostensibly to check receipts didn't break there conversation. Obviously the discussion of the guy's dad's pants was too important. My receipt checker didn't look at the product in my bag, nor did he bother to even look at me. I wish I could see the pants they were talking about, those pants must be more glorious then 3-way sex.

Soda machines lie.

2007-03-08T08:39:00.000-08:00

Twice now in a week, a machine has lied to me. I kinda thought it was rock awesome how soda machines these days report on their internal temperatures. A machine that says it's a frosty 32 degrees inside means to me I am going to get an icey cold beverage. One that is cooled to somewhere around the same temperature as what the machine reports. However, it occurs to me now that there are some key bits of information missing in that report. If it is going to tell me how cold it is in there, it should mention the last time it shut off as well as the last time it was opened up to be restalked. We all know that if you bring a bottle of soda home from the store and put it in the freezer (and the freezer actually freezes things, unlike a soda machine, so if your freezer blinks its internal temperature, it would report colder than a soda machine for sure) and take that same bottle of soda out 2 minutes later, it isn't cold. In fact, it is unpleasantly warm, like the diet soda I am drinking now. Unpleasantly warn, bitch-ass lying soda machine.

Whooppss

2007-03-06T12:10:00.000-08:00

I totally missed posting for the Month of Feb. My bad. Turns out it is March now. I found some notes of some things I meant to blog, but didn't.

I intended to write about some horrible diseases, horrible disease that are made up. Diseases like Louisiana crotch moss, Philadelphia drip, Kentucky festering legions, Seattle Shankers... Really the Seattle Shankers sound a lot more like a Bastketball or Hockey team than a disease. I am sure I must have confused my notes of made up stuff that sounds like diseases, and made up diseases that sound like sports teams. Again, my bad, it has been awhile and my notes of things I thought of awhile ago and didn't blog are kinda hazy. The notes are hazy, and my memory is hazy, everything is hazy. Seattle Shanker is also listed on my notes of made up cereal killers. But then it is just the one person, The Shanker, as apposed to The Shankers, which would be a sports team from Seattle. In my list of made up diseases I forgot Korean Black Rose, seriously, don't get that. Just because you can get a little action in Korea for 5 dollars American doesn't mean it is a good idea. Korean Black Rose is not a laughing matter.

In other news, I wrote a definition of irony as it relates to Alanis Morosett, or as I like to call her, Alanis. If you don't know the lyrics to her song "isn't it ironic" I encourage you to go here and search for them.

If you are in the position of the woman in the song, and your expectation when meeting the man of your dreams is to fall in love and develop a relationship, than it is, in fact, ironic when you meet the man of your dreams then meet his beautiful wife. The irony is in the nonconforming or incongruity in the sequence of events. If you expect that when A happens, B will follow, but instead when A happens, there is an unexpected outcome, say L because who the hell expected L? The resulting state is irony.

I know I know, unrelated. I didn't beg you to read this blog, ok maybe I did...
Doesn't shankalepsey sound awful? I would hate to have it, whatever it is. Have a good March, if I think about it, I will post again soon, I am sure you can all hardly wait.

Hornswoggled.

2007-01-29T08:49:00.000-08:00

If I was at a bar, and the special lady friend I was romancing that evening suggested we leave and go back to her place, she had in mind to give me a good hornswoggling, I wouldn't be able to collect my things fast enough. I don't even know what a hornswoggling is, but it has to be good right? A Hornswoggling, how could that be bad? I can't wait to tell my friends how I hooked up and got an incredible hornswoggling....

Turns out, getting hornswoggled means you will wake up 3 days later packed in ice in the bathtub of an abandoned house. You will be minus your wallet, most of you clothes, your dignity, your pride, part of your spleen and a kidney. Seriously, you don't want to get hornswoggled. I still don't know what they were talkin about in the Black Eyed Peas song My Humps, the whole milk and the coco puffs thing, but in light of this, I don't think I wanna know.

I gotta go.

2007-01-26T14:45:00.000-08:00

I know not all of you reading this will understand. I am pretty sure my readership numbers in the millions, and out of that I bet there are a few women who read and follow along. I don't mean to leave you out here ladies. So, I will include a test so you have some idea what I am talking about. Go to the urinal test and take it. You might not understand how it all works, but at least you will understand that there is a madness at work.

And about that test. Whoever decided the answer to number 5 over thought. That answer is incorrect. The reasoning the test gives is that you are "coupled" with user 2 if you choose space 1. Not true. If you choose space 3 or 4, you are out in the open when you don't have to be and further, you are taking a serious chance of ending up next to two other men, and you are threefered with one group. If you are a dude, you know this is the worst possible scenario, which is in fact, revealed in the next question. You take number one, you face into the corner. User 2 was there when you got there and well undoubtedly leave before you, in which case you will be in an ideal situation. Anyone who has stage fright knows this for sure. You act like there is trouble with your zipper, user 2 walks away, and....sweet sweet relief. Notice question 3 doesn't have you in locations 3 or 4? That is what makes position 1 the right choice in question 5.

All this to say that, where I work, the bathroom closest to me has 2 urinals right next to each other. Do bathroom designers not study bathroom traffic? I would think this urinal situation would be fairly common knowledge, textbooky kinda stuff. I asked my friend, for the sake of anonymity, I will call her "Anita". "Anita" is one of the world's top architects, and she says egress and ingress issues and how they are handled depends on the city in which the building is built and weather that city mandates use of the International Building Code or the Uniform Building Code. Now, technically speaking, the number of urinals in a men's room isn't ingress or egress, but how you get to them and get away from them is. Maybe the number and why there would be 2 rather than 3 or 1 has more to do with occupancy numbers or some other variable. But 2 urinals? Really that means money was wasted on a urinal. There might be 2 there, but if one is occupied, that means the other is unavailable. I don't care what the emergency is, no man is going to occupy the second urinal. It just isn't going to happen. So why are there 2? Vexing. I am vexed. There are companies that make urinals that will paint a fly or some other target in a urinal because they have studied the whole bathroom situation enough to know that if they give men a target, men will aim at it which means less mess and less clean up. I have to wonder why the scientist who set up a bank of urinals and wrangled a bunch of drunk guys in to test out the splashy results from the targets couldn't help but wonder why there had to be a space inbetween each drunken, pissing study participant? You would think a scientist would notice a thing like that and want to study that next?

Bumper stickers.

2007-01-19T09:43:00.000-08:00

I was kinda thinking I might make this a reoccurring theme. There are so many out there that need commenting on. I don't personally have any, nor have I ever felt the need to use the back of my car to make a statement. Maybe someday I will feel the need and will get some bumper stickers, but for now, they are for other people to stick on, and for me to read and wonder why they did.

Today's installment brings us "Jesus is my copilot". I am not going to be the person to say Jesus didn't live. I am not even going to be the person to say that Jesus wasn't born a virgin birth, walk the earth a sinless man for 33 years, get nailed to a cross to forgive the sins and transgressions of the entire human race and rise again after 3 days to ascend into heaven and serve as the intercessor to humankind when they pray to God or that he won't come back one day to receive his children into heaven. That is your copilot? He has returned to earth in human form to look at the map and give you directions on the way to work, maybe to hold your coffee? The Son of God, Jesus of Nazareth is in your Landcruiser presumably telling you to speed and cut people off? Or maybe the speeding and cutting people off is the drivers idea while the copilot just holds the coffee?

If Jesus really came back to earth, and came to my house and said, "Look, I need to be a copilot and you're the man to drive me around dwag" And I knew it was Jesus for reals because his drivers lic or ID card said Jesus Christ Son of God Hair: Brn. Weight: 180 Height: 6'2" on it... I would cram other people in my car. I would make sure wherever I went, there were other people with me because JESUS IS IN THE FRONT SEAT! Who doesn't wanna question that guy? What was hell like, really? You never sinned? Not once? No sex? Not even lust in your heart for a lady? Really? I would want Jesus to do the driving really, I don't want to speed or make an illegal right hand turn or say, hold on Jesus, I gotta flip a bitch here, and run the risk of having him erase my name from the Lambs Book of Life and forever bar me from heaven. Plus, it would be a chance to see his sinless nature in action. Not accidentally breaking the speed limit, not needing to throw a soda at another car whose driver is less intelligent then a fern, not taking matters into his own hands when cut off by someone with a cell phone.

I think if the bumper sticker were true, things would be different, that is all I am saying.

Lottery

2007-01-09T13:57:00.000-08:00

By lottery, I am not talking about where you pay some money to loose a statewide game, like the state lotto, I am talking about an event or an affair whose outcome is or seems to be determined by chance. I am sure your mind also went straight to law enforcement. This morning on my way to work I saw a police officer on a motorcycle hiding behind a tree on the on ramp I was using to enter the freeway. It was a scene straight out of the dukes of hazard, all except for there weren't two hicks jumping an orange dodge charger over the freeway blaring Dixie.

We, as a citizenry, pay the police to enforce the law. I don't know exactly when the first state government body decided that cars were going fast enough, and laid out speed limits to ensure a source of income, but I can remember there were speed limits as far back as the 1970s which is a long long long time. I am going to presume that speed limits are even older than that. In all that time the police have come up with some pretty high tech ways of enforcing the law. For instance, use a motorcycle to hide behind a tree in order to catch a single speeder out of a freeway full of speeders. I entered the freeway doing about 35 mph with a burning desire to be the Paul Revere of the situation and alert everyone to the hiding policeman. However, to avoid getting hit, I quickly brought it up to 65, but still got passed left and right, which made me wonder...Which speeder is that policeman after?

I never did find out. I was long gone by the time that officer made his move, if he even made his move. Nope, I didn't get a ticket. This isn't a bitter rage against the law enforcement machine. I realized I don't understand why we pay cops so well to do such a crappy job? Sure, they put themselves in harms way to keep me safe every single day. Know why? Because they are doing the same thing police have done since the first cop sat in a donut shop racially profiling people. Police should be back at headquarters building super awesome crime fighting machine 2000! Which is of course a robot drone that could hide behind a bush to catch a single speeder out of many. Maybe the robot could match drivers faces against a state database in real time so he could catch speeders that were also having a birthday that day, just to teach them a lesson.

I don't favor a police state where every move that anyone makes is monitored and any law that is broken is immediately punished. But doesn't it seem like, for the money we pay for a police force, they would have in turn come up with a really efficient way of getting mundane tasks completed? Why don't the police, or the federal government, set aside money for law enforcement R&D? And why do we still have pesky speed limits? No one likes getting speeding tickets, and everyone I know including me speeds. Then the money from our speeding tickets goes back into the pool of money that gets used to pay a cop to keep hiding behind a tree, catching whoever he or she decides is the worst offender at that particular moment.

I say we quit hiring police types. We have enough overly-testosteroned, controlling brutes with guns hiding behind trees and saying things like "I am hooking up the perp" or "7 mary 5, we are in hot pursuit of a cheech, code blue!". Our new force should be the scrawniest nerds this country has to offer, hot pocket eating docker wearing nerdly nerds. They will feel so picked on by our current brutish police force that they will have robot replacements snapping towels in locker rooms in a year, maybe less. I can't wait to try and talk a robot cop out of a speeding ticket.

Click.

2007-01-02T18:23:00.000-08:00

It turns out that the people who wrote the movie Click have a time machine. I know, I am pretty surprised about it myself. I write a blog entry about bed bath and beyond and a short time later my little brother (who is in fact, not really very little at all) tells me that the whole bed bath and beyond thing was done already in the movie Click. I can already hear the phone ringing and I haven't even published this entry yet. He didn't really tell me that, he just kept saying, "did you see click yet? It's a good movie, you gotta watch click, put it on your netflicks yo, come on, it is time to watch Click." that is more like what he said. Then, he bought the movie and brought it over so I would watch it, and what do you know, they somehow ripped me off, timemachine having blog ripping offing jackasseses.

Being that they somehow totally stole from my blog, I feel I can't say much positive about the movie. Well, I can say the bed bath and beyond part was kinda funny, since they ripped off the basic premises from the future, my blog specifically. And I have to give Christopher Walken his due, the man's a genius. Anything will be a little funny because he is in it. I used to like Sandler, but now that I know he makes enough money that he can travel through time...I don't know. He is prolly using his time machine to do the whole used car thing too. So, in short, don't see Click. Whatever money you were going to use to watch this film, just paypal straight to me. I think that is fair.

I am just saying...

2006-12-11T22:01:00.000-08:00

If you like to wear shirts that don't come all the way down to your belt line, and if you have a red pair of sweatpants that says "hottie" in white lettering on the front wasteline, but the word "hottie" is partly obscured by flab, chances are the description of you on your pants is something less than accurate. This is true of any color sweatpants fitting the rest of the description really. I am not picking on the ladies here either, this is not acceptable attire for anyone, anytime, for any reason. Make a note to yourself to remind you if you need to: "lose significant weight before wearing "hottie" pants again" or "throw out "hottie" pants, go get several cheese burgers" or "go buy bigger shirts that cover "hottie" on hottie pants and several cheese burgers." Or keep wearing em around, I am not telling anyone what to do here exactly, I am just saying....

Beyond.

2006-11-29T09:06:00.000-08:00

When I hear the word beyond, it usually conjures mental images of something extraordinary. It might be the hereafter, or maybe some reality that is melded to our own which we still have to discover. Once found, everything will be different, down will be up, left will be down, up will be sideways, and hotdogs will seem kinda normal. Beyond is a word used in the intro of The Twilight Zone, you know you are leaving this reality for some wacky reality where time will stop flowing, or you will forget how to speak or some people don't have mouths or faces. Even the dictionary defines beyond as outside the scope of ordinary experience.

So, imagine my disappointment, recently, after going into Bed, Bath & Beyond. If you have not been to one recently, I invite you to peruse their wares: I give you, BED, BATH & BEYOND! In their defense, this isn't a bad store. In fact, I like going there as long as I can keep Tyler Durden's rants out of my head. But when I hear beyond, I don't think bed bath and some kitchen stuff, which, honestly, would be a better name for this store. Bed, Bath & Some Kitchen Stuff. Has a nice ring. Bed, Bath and Beyond tells me I am going to see some bedding, some bathroom stuff, and then some of the craziest things I can imagine. Hey, this is a nice sheet set, and oh, I like these towels and check this out, I just turned partially into a plant. Look over there, a giant hotdog is getting swarmed by tiny killer pancakes. Hey look, I am those people over there, and they are me! My clothes are made out of pizza. There is a swirling portal to another dimension right behind those pillows, just getting near the portal to look at the pillows makes everything look like a cartoon. I tried to go through the portal, but everytime I went in, I ended up right in front of the portal again, but the pillows are gone! The whole store is filled with llamas!

Needless to say, my shopping experience lacked the more beyond portion I had hoped for. I had hoped to come out of Bed, Bath & Beyond a changed person. I had hoped for a mind blowing experience that challenged my views of reality. Instead, I came out with some new silverware and a couple of gift certificates. My mind is not blown as I had hoped for, it is still just as intact as ever.

Community Relations.

2006-11-29T08:47:00.000-08:00

Today while driving to work, I passed a lot of cops. By a lot, I mean at least 3, which is about 3 more than I usually see in the morning. One of the cops I passed was in a minivan, and on the side in huge lettering the van said Community Relations. I started laughing to myself, I immediately envisioned this officer pulling someone over on a busy street and caining them for all to see. I am not for sure that public cainings are in the Community Relations Officer's job description, but I am pretty sure it must be an unspoken thing. Well, actually, I don't really picture that there is a specific Community Relations Officer. I don't think most cops go into coppery to become Community Relations Specialists. I expect most cops go into it because the pay is good, you don't have to sit behind a desk all day, and you get to help people... and you get to carry a gun and give people shit and there isn't shit they can do about it oh, and the badge gets easy ladies with low self esteem! I expect that the Community Relations Officer is the Officer who is on some kind of suspension for shooting someone and getting caught. The getting caught part is the part Police Officials don't like.

I guess it isn't too strange right? Coca Cola totally has a Community Relations van, right? Oh, they don't? Hmmmmm. Other large publicly held entities don't have vans that announce their purpose is strictly for the use of relating to the community either? I am sure once this is posted, the community relations van will be here; 3 or 4 community relation stormtroopers will jump out, and toss me in a community relations body sack with a pad lock at the top, where I will be transported and held as an enemy combatant. I will let you all know how I relate to my new prison community. I wonder if they have community relations officers in prison? I can hardly wait to find out.

Lazy Susan

2006-11-17T11:08:00.000-08:00

Yesterday on my way to work, I drove passed almost all the car dealers in the metropolis I call home. In the very first car dealer I drove by, was a car on some kind of lift, about 2 stories in the air, spinning around slowly. It was just like the gillion other cars for sale in that same lot. A spinning car, big whoop. Write about something funny, jackass. I am sure that is what you're saying to yourself, but I kinda am, so shut up and listen.

Does a spinning car make you want to buy a car more than one that is not spinning? Prolly not. Mad props to them, they got a car up where I could see it slightly better. Did I think about that car all the way to work? Not the way they intended I am sure. It didn't make me feel I wanted a new car, it made me feel like I wanted to break someone's nose. A spinning car on a lift is where it starts. Late night commercials with Cal Worthington and his crazy "dog" (which is actually a monkey or an elephant or a freaking tiger or who knows what else) is where it goes next. And from there it explodes. Clothing that is nothing more than an ad for the company that made it, oh, and it will cost me 20 bucks to wear it. Night and day calls to my home to inform me of great deals I can get on things I never even wanted. Some lady told me on the phone the other night that I needed double pain windows. I need them. She is so insensitive that she didn't even believe me when I told her I live in an old circus tent. Bitch. Peter North emailed me the other day to tell me my penis is too small and he has just the thing to make it bigger. Like he knows anything about my penis. I am comfortable with my size, anything else would be completely unwieldy. Anyways, how did putting me down and then offering to help become good advertising? It is everywhere and I am tired of it.

Here is what I suggest: Lets all ignore advertising. Confound market researchers by buying crazy stuff, and a lot of it, for a short time, and then move on to something else. First, lets make a run on peanut butter. And for no reason. Don't anyone buy anymore cars for any reason. When the peanut butter is all gone, rubberbands it is. Once they have over produced them and stores are teaming with huge bags of rubberbands, we will all stop. I can't wait to see the commercials, billboards, magazine ads and spam once companies realize we want crazy, nonsense kinda stuff.

Do unto others....

2006-11-08T16:58:00.000-08:00

Can you imagine if you treated everyone the way you wanted to be treated? As a nation, I imagine this would vastly change our foreign policy, but that is political issue and a hot button topic, which I create, not latch onto. I don't know why things are called hot button topics. If I knew a button was going to be hot, I wouldn't touch it. And neither would anyone else. No one likes to touch things that are hot. Maybe it should be called a warm sticky button topic. Who doesn't like warm and sticky? But warm and sticky will be a future blog entry.

Life would be weird if everyone did to other people what they wanted done to themselves. If you gave someone you didn't know all your money, well that would be weird. But no one would call you stupid because no one wants to be called stupid. It sounds like a pleasant idea if everyone was really nice to one another, but I have a feeling it would be like hanging around outside a couple of days after the world trade center attack. Something just didn't seem right. Turns out there were no planes in the air. It was subtle enough that you might not have noticed there were none, but it was weird all the same. Oh, and that might not have happened either, the attack. Although it might have, because Bin Ladin didn't have any trade towers for us to knock over. Also, I think he likes negative attention. His parents probably don't love him and never got him a pony. That might lead me to Jihad too.

In some cases there are laws prohibiting me from doing things to people that I would want done to me. Where I might call it the ideal, utopian society, HR calls it sexual harassment. How are wildly good looking ladies going to know to give me a surprise hand job if I don't give them one first? And who wouldn't want a surprise hand job? Actually, if I could get a show of hands it might save future entanglements with HR.

In short, I am glad not everyone treats me the way they want to be treated. There are weirdos out there, I mean real, leather clad, pain loving, poop tasting shut-in wierdos. If anyone trys anything freaky out of the blue, I am kicking your ass. And not because I want my ass kicked, but because I don't want surprise public freakiness.

Wild Animal

2006-10-11T09:22:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went to the Wild Animal Park. It is in San Diego, and it is world famous, so the signs say. If you are reading this in some other country, or planet, and you have not heard of the Wild Animal Park, well....you are pitiful I am afraid.

I would hope, if you have read any of the rest of my blog, you would realize, I am not one of those people who laments the way animals are treated in a facility like this one. Yesterday I watched 2 blonde girls wash an elephants feat and smack it in the ass. If they had a people exhibit, I would seriously consider signing up, if those two would come and wash my feet...or whatever. However, that is really off subject.

As I drove up, I noticed the whole park is surrounded by a really high fence. And good thing too, the whole thing really is packed with wild animals. The kind that if they could get a claw into you, they would not think twice about it. You kinda gotta admire wild animals for their no bullshit attitudes. If you pay a giant sum of money, you gain entrance to the park, and as I walked in, I noticed they have it set up to look all jungley in there. It made me think, now, I am on the inside of the fence...and so are all the animals. I am in here with them. They are in here with me. There are fences in here that keep them from sinking their claws into me. But what if there were no fences? What if we truly visited these animals in their natural habitat? Would I have paid all that money to get in? Kinda of a new experience to walk in to the wild animal park, where the animals roam free, wondering if you will make it back out. It wouldn't be an excited run to the gorilla cage, in fact, you might hope to not see any gorillas. You might hope not to see any animals at all.

While I am there, I get weary of seeing people reading the signs about the animals. I know there is 1 person in every 100,000 who reads the signs out of true interest and curiosity...and my uncle wasn't there yesterday, so that means everyone else was faking. The animals aren't like people everyone, you can drop the pretense. They are not like people you know, they don't care if you pretend to be interested in them or not. Most of them would rather just eat you. With the new version, the fenceless wild animal park, people would really pay attention to the signs. If the thing stalking them is a carnivore, you might look for a tree to climb...although I doubt most people I saw could climb a tree, even if they were getting chanced by a crazed, hungry wild animal.

After thinking about it, I would still go. But I would go alone, and I would go armed. For years wild animals have stuck it to people. Sneaking up on them and then eating them. I wouldn't start off shooting, I would walk in and start calling animals out. Those gorillas are huge, but I bet they have glass jaws. I want to fight one. They might be wildly strong, but I fight cheap. Quietus Oppugn (the western marshal art of which I am the founder) has a whole section on fighting wild animals. Panther's are are used to they're prey being terrified of them. The panther I take down will be shocked when I laugh at his growls, his stripped teeth and claws. Bring it panther. Knowing that the intimidation is a psychological upper hand, any panther would be so demoralized when I laugh at it intimidations. Then, I will ruin it. I have never punched a wild cat before, but I can hardly wait. If, by some miracle an animal gets the upper hand on me in a fight, I will shoot it. Ultimately, I will win every fight because my brain is bigger than a pebble, and I have opposable thumbs. Thumbs come in handy when it is time to reload, eh bears?

1969

2006-10-02T16:01:00.000-07:00

Lots of stuff happened in 1969. Lots. Some would even say an entire years worth of stuff somehow got crammed into 1969. I, however, want to focus on one particular thing. The one thing everyone thinks of when they hear the year 1969. No, not you f-ing hippies who think current civilization would not exist without Woodstock. Seriously, no one cares. The thing everyone else thinks when they hear the year 1969. Again, not free love. They think of the moon. You all think of the moon. Come on. Think of the moon.

I wonder if there was a meeting at NASA prior to mission to the moon that covered etiquette upon landing? Some kind of "we are first, the world will be watching" kind of speech. Maybe I am jaded from having grown up in the world of spin. It wouldn't surprise me to find out that some suit on the ground decided who looked the best and had the best voice. And Neil would be first out the door and would memorize a couple of lines that a speech writer wrote. Maybe that is the way it would happen today. Actually, if we were headed to the moon for the first time prolly Dubbya himself would go and declare it part of the United States and set up some oil rigs to "see what's goin on under there." Either that or one of the Baldwins, Prolly Alec would go. I like to think, back in 1969, that from the time they lived through landing on the moon, it was a race. Who could get that giant suit strapped on the fastest. Shoving each other around, shutting off oxygen hoses on the other guys suit, hiding gloves... anything to ensure you would be the first out the door. Good thing I wasn't there. I would have hid everyone's boots the day before. I prolly would have been sleeping in most of my space suit in anticipation of being the first one outside. Who cares if it could kill me, its the freaking moon son, and I would be the first one on it. I would not have walked out slowly either, I would have jumped over the hand rail, or down the ladder, or whatever it took. I would have proclaimed "I just jumped down the ladder and I am on the fucking moon! I am the first guy here EVER! NASA? Houston? Are you listening to this? I am on the damn moon! Collins? Aldrin? Your boots are in the tank of the space toilet. History will remember my name, and 'where's my boots?' won't even be a footnote, bitches!"

WoW

2006-09-27T11:28:00.000-07:00

I am sure none of the other 6 million subscribers out there admit to playing. I take that back, I bet most do. I don't care if it makes me a nerd, I can still kick your ass. I play World of Warcraft, there it is out there. I said it. I play. Now that you know what this post if going to be about, you can either quit reading because you don't play, or you can quit reading because you are not interested in what I have to say about it.

Since I started playing, there are a few things that I find interesting about it. Amusing really. I like comparing some aspects of in game like to real life. One of my favorite things is, and has been, you can drop a cold glass of milk or a cold beer in the mail and send it to someone. The recipient can take the cold beer out of the mail and drink it. If real life mail were only that cool. However, what's better is, if you don't want to drink the beer right then, you can put a mug of beer in your back pack and drink it later. What makes that so awesome is it is a mug of beer, and even if I jump off a cliff into a lake with my back pack on, the beer doesn't spill, nor does it get all full of water.

Back packs are really kinda awesome in game. It isn't uncommon that I am carrying around bars or gold and iron. I usually also have in my back back a bunch of rock called heavy stone. Also, I usually carry around many different types of weapons. On a good day I have a couple of daggers, 2 or 3 clubs, a shield, maybe a staff, a sword or two, some throwing axes, a cross bow, a couple hundred arrows, a regular bow, maybe some brass knuckles and an axe kinda like a hatchet. A guy doesn't wanna get caught without the right weapon for causing real damage. Somehow I never get hurt by all these weapons, even when I jump off a cliff. Also, I can swim just as fast with all that stuff in my back pack as I can with nothing in my back pack. That rocks.

I have a cat that I can ride around on. That's right, a cat. The cool thing is, when I am done riding it, it just disappears. And, when I want to ride it again, it reappears. Oh yeah, and I don't have to feed it. Ever.

My bank in game is the best of all. When I go to the bank it real life, it is usually to deposit my pay check. I like to do things the old fashion way. And by that I mean depositing my check in person, pervert. I have yet to put money in my bank in game. I do, however, have some guys severed head in my bank account. I also have someone's blood. I have a lot more weapons in my bank, as well as some other clothes. It probably isn't common, but I have a disguise in there too. I have some cold beers, a bunch of rocks and bars of different metals, some necklaces, a bunch of bandaides, a hat...you get the idea. It is more like a locker. Really, the deposit slip would be comedy.

All in all, it is a most enjoyable experience. It is too bad I have to have this real life and can't become digital.

Lets play a quick game.

2006-09-07T11:24:00.000-07:00

Awww, Fall. Back to school. I was recently thinking about going back to school when I was in high school. It seems like life times ago, maybe because it was. I was remembering the first few days of PE. I work now, and there is nothing like PE anymore, although there probably should be. The first few days were the only time the locker room smelled reasonable. Also, it was the only time my new PE outfit felt really clean, or looked nice. It was also the time of the year the coachs felt the need to flex a little muscle, figuratively of course. I did have a coach, which I am sure is rare, who was huge and in excellent shape. Oddly, he didn't have to show anyone who was boss, we all just knew. Even if I ran into that guy today, I would probably still be quiet and quit horsing around. Horsing around, the one thing every coach wants none of. How many times have I heard a PE coach yell, "Quit horsing around!" I grew up around horses. All horses really do is stand there. Some people say they look majestic. Maybe in the right light I could see it, but to me when you look a horse in the eye, they look kinda dopey. I don't know how they got such a bad rap with the horsing around. My favorite thing to hear yelled though was not quit horsing around, it was "Hey, you guys over there, quit playing grab ass!" Grab ass, the bane of every PE coach's existence. They want to teach you every out door game in existence except for Grab Ass, which they want us all to have nothing to do with. And oddly, In every coach's mind that seems to be the game that every high school male wants to play. I know I was told to stop playing grab ass on many an occasion which is weird to me because I don't know how to play grab ass, although I have to admit, it sounds like a good time. I always picture in my mind, that this is what high school coachs think...
"is he looking?"
"No, and he is way over there, quick gather around here guys."
"Shhhhhh, he will hear us."
"Are you all ready for a quick game of grab ass?"
"Damnit, I am out, I left all my grab ass gear in my locker."
"ok, Jimmy is out, anyone else not bring their grab ass stuff?"
"Alright, here we go, pick a grab ass card."
"whoa! The ace of grab ass, now roll to see who goes next."
"Here he comes here he comes, shhhhhhhhhhh"

Quit playing grab ass over there and pay attention!

"I don't know how he even saw us playing grab ass from way over there..."

For once I would have loved to hear a coach say, "today, all period, we are going to play grab ass."

Colorless.

2006-09-07T09:08:00.000-07:00

There are things that have no color, but we assign color to. Love for instance is often represented with red while getting motion sick is often associated with being green. I have been motion sick, but my face didn't turn green. Still, being all throwy uppy somehow associates a person with the color green. Driving really fast is often associated with the color orange because that is the same color as a box of tide. Well, maybe I make that association myself, but I am sure everyone sees where I am coming from.

I looked at the sites for the American Cancer Society, National Cancer Institute as well as a few sites all about cancer and cancer related topics. I didn't notice a thematic color associated with cancer. Maybe for the same reason I associate speeding with orange, I associate cancer with yellow. I don't know why I am even thinking about it, but from now on, anything yellow means cancer.

Flunking College

2006-09-05T11:29:00.000-07:00

I don't usually dole out the personal information, but for the sake of this post, it is important that anyone reading it know that I work at a University. I am pretty sure anyone reading this already knew that, but you never know.

That being said, I don't understand the latest trend in utter disregard for ones own well being. Case in point: Today I had to leave the campus mid morning. Why? That is none of your bees wax, I just had to. Now, normally students here pay no attention to cars or what they might or might not do. They have other things to worry about that are more important, like what they might do with their Myspace page and how to not look drunk in class. Usually as they cross the street, they try not to look at any cars that might be trying to get across the same intersection. I am sure somewhere they heard that pedestrians have the right away, kindergarten maybe. And, now they use this info to disregard important, 2000 pound moving objects.

Now, normally, if I start speeding across an intersection at a gap big enough for my gianormous truck, the kid I am aimed at tries to look cool while secretly peeing his pants just a little, while the girl on her cell phone stays on the curb just long enough for me to get past. Today though, as I started across an intersection, a kid actually stepped in front of my oncoming monster truck. Really, he should be fair game. I did manage to make my tires chirp as I stopped for him, as well as chirp as I tried to run over the back of his shoe.

The parking lots and streets outside Universities should be proving grounds. Students who don't know how to keep out of harms way should be expelled. And should not be readmitted to any University anywhere for any reason. That should be the new rules.....

10 Dolla Bill yo!

2006-08-11T00:50:00.000-07:00

I suspect there was an accident at the Denver mint involving the 10 dollar bill plates. I don't know what could have happened, or how, the possibilities are limitless, but somehow there is a shortage of ten dollar bills. Or maybe they are minting enough, and there is some rich eccentric bastard out there hogging them up? Maybe Bill Gates sends trucks to the mint for ten dollar bills only?

Bill Gates:"And this up in here I call my ten dolla bill room yall."
Me:"wow, that must be every ten dollar bill ever produced you 10 dollar bill grubbing jackass."
Bill Gates:"B-GATE is a player son! Over a billion in Hammy's fool! See that 70 inch plasma screen tv over there? It's made entirely of Hamilton's biatch. That's rizight, and I am the only one with one, Sony made one, and I gots it."
Me:"I wonder why Mr. Sony didn't keep it for himself, being that it is the only one and all?"
Bill Gates:"you're talking crazy talk. When no one's calling me B to G, they calls me 10 Dolla Bill. Snap! Awwwaight. That's the way I roll. Bengie's are played son. Who doesn't got a pocket full? I roll Peterbuilt's full Hamilton's. It's your birthday bitch! I don't care that it's your birthday!"
Me:"Quit talking street to me, you sir, are a rich nerd. Cut it out, or I will break you"

Anyways, if that conversation were to actually happen, the part that is truly hardest to believe is that Bill Gates is showing me around his house. If I am in his house, most likely the police are already in route. Plus, if I was in his house, I would be frantically searching for his bedroom where he keeps his Ipod and Macintop. You know it's true. Everyone knows he uses a Mac and doesn't really understand how to use a PC.... However, I have digressed.

Print more tens and less 5's Denver mint. Next time I get three 5's in change from a 20, well, I will be quietly furious about it, just like the last several times it has happened. And I will talk poorly of you behind your back, Denver mint. 10 dolla bill yo, Iam out!

That is a huge package.

2006-07-25T14:53:00.000-07:00

I am pretty sure Costco is worldwide now. I think there is one in every small town in America, kinda like 7-11 and Stucky's. Although usually when I am talking about a store, it is because I have a loathing for them deep down in my soul somewhere. I cannot say that about Costco. I find, when there is something about a store that doesn't make sense it is usually best to come here and mock it. That gets about as much done, if not more, then actually pursuing it. At least mocking it here I feel better and other people who read this might agree with my assessments. There is plenty I don't understand about Costco, like, where do they get all that cool stuff, and how can they afford to pass it along to me so cheap? That I will not mock. I just accept it, lest it change.

So, please good people of Costco, don't take this the wrong way. I merely do not understand this. If you tell me that these crazy packages have to exist so Costco can remain the same, I will quietly accept your crazy answer. I have heard other nonsense in my life that I accepted, and it did not benefit me, so your answer, whatever it is, will be a piece of cake to accept. Like the chocolate ring cakes, or the lemon cooler cakes that you apparently purchase straight from God; no earthly bakery could make cake that tasted quiet so delicious.

Thanks to Bill's super secret bat phone/bubble breaker consol:

These huge packages pictured have nothing in them. Well, they have a piece of paper in them that says what the package is supposed to be. Like "this huge package is full of two movie tickets, give this package to the check out individual and that person will exchange this package and your cash for 2 movie tickets. You're welcome." When you take one of these to the front counter, they take it, give you two movie tickets when you pay, then they put this huge package that you don't even get to open, back on the shelf.

I don't get why there are two crates of these? I am pretty sure that, if everyone in the store wanted one of these in their shopping basket, there would still be a lot left over. I also don't get why these crates full of fake packages aren't just a sign that says, "ask your checker for some movie tickets eh? They are 5$ a piece! Bam!" nor do I understand why a package with nothing in it had to be the size of a dog. If it has to be a package, why not a small one? Not like you have to worry about someone ripping it off, there is nothing in it.

One day I am going to purchase a package of tickets, and I will demand to be allowed to open the package that they should have come in. Or, I will buy a few tickets and claim I need the packages in order to have something to wrap as a gift, just like they needed them to stock their shelves. I can't wait to give everyone packages that should have movie tickets in them, but don't. Happy Birthday, Clerks II wasn't that great!

The Fry's Principle.

2006-07-25T14:41:00.000-07:00

I forgot to mention in my previous post the Fry's Principle. It states that every other electronic item you purchase will have to be returned because it doesn't work as expected if it works at all. Honestly, I generally expect new electronics that I purchase to work. Maybe that is my bad?

An open letter to Fry's Electronics

2006-07-06T16:09:00.000-07:00

Fry's. Why don't you want my money?

I like Fry's Electronics for one simple reason. It is bursting at the seams with cool stuff. Computer parts, games, TVs, Candy...I am even strangely attracted to all the major appliances. I like to think I have the refrigerator thing covered with the one I keep all my food in. Still, it doesn't hurt to browse them at Fry's. Just in case there is any great break-throughs in refrigeration technology or whatever.

With a store this cool, so giant and so full of fun and awesome things, you would think they would hire people, good people, who will guide me through the miasma of merchandise I don't totally understand to the product I want like a Sherpa would guide me right into downtown Guatemala, or wherever Sherpa so diligently take people.

You would be wrong. A rodeo cowboy would have an easier time roping a berserker steer than roping help in this store. Don't get me wrong, there is help in this joint, or at least people who are ostensibly hired for this purpose...or at least this is my working theory. Perhaps they are hired to talk with each other, and play grab ass? I haven't actually seen a job description, maybe they have a Grab Ass Floor Chief? If this is the case, then that person is doing a magnificent job.

I always enjoy walking by the greeters who never greet me. I know if I ever have a store, I am going to hire two people to stand in the foyer and talk to each other. It just makes sense. I also like the two that stand and talk to each other by the exit. I always hate to interrupt them so they can make that ever so important hot pink mark on my sales receipt. I love when they look at my face as if to say "you are so important, I stopped my conversation for 2 seconds to put a hot pink mark on your receipt", then look back to the person they were talking to as they mark my receipt, never once looking at what I purchased. Someday I am going to sneak in a bag full of kittens just to see if anyone can quit talking long enough to notice that kittens aren't electronics. I like that they put pictures of people at the end of the each aisle who are supposed to tend to said aisle. I can never find those people, but if I ask someone else about an item on that aisle, they feign ignorance, and tell me I will need to find the caretaker of that aisle. I assume they exist. I also assume the ignorance is not feigned.

Fry's, why are you the only store that still hands out paper gift certificates? You are a technology store. You sell the very products that could help you. Why don't you heed your own call? Those roughens down at Home Depot have figured out the plastic gift card. Why do you still insist on paper? It is incomprehensible...and vexing.

I don't mean to impugn all Fry's employees everywhere. I did experience a solid, quality employee once. I would like to contact that good Fry's employee, and tell him to build an ark. Make it 300 cubits long, 50 cubits wide and 30 cubits high. Make a window in the ark, and gather 2 of all the electronics in the store aboard the ark. Then, I am going to close the door of the ark myself, and it will rain for 40 days and 40 nights. I don't know much about electronics humping each other to reproduce, but I am sure after the rains stop, this will all work itself out.

David Banner.

2006-06-21T11:19:00.000-07:00

This was going to be a "what if David (or Bruce) Banner had IED" entry. Which, if you think about it, it would have been devastating. I read this article about David Banner. Apparently after his radiation mishap, he also had a lot of other unfortunate events occur in his life:

"Examples of such stressful incidents would include drowning, being buried alive, getting beaten up, nightmares, gunshot wounds and traffic jams. When David did get pissed off, his alter ego could smash through brick walls, overturn cars and tanks, break chains, uproot large trees, and bend steel in his bare hand."

in this case, understand that "alter ego" should read "IED"

However, this cannot be purely a Hulk/Dr. Banner/IED collide entry. Sadly, while searching David Banner for a refresher on his life and times, I found this. I was all excited, a site all about David Banner. Maybe a scientific explanation of how he gave himself such horrible IED. Maybe shopping tips on buying plaid shirts in bulk for the nomadic lifestyle. If you have already clicked on the link, then you already realize the depths of my disappointment. That he would go from Scientist to half assed crap performer is heart breaking. Click on the "photos" section. I haven't seen that much sneering since Billy Idol played San Diego in 1986. From respected researcher, to IED sufferer, to untalented, sneering black performer, David Banner is truly a man of many colors. And woe to you, if you mess with Gamma radiation. Respect it. It is not to be trifled with.

My newest disorder.

2006-06-21T10:58:00.000-07:00

Finally. Finally. My overwhelming, yet intermittent desire to break things and people has been given a name. Intermittent Explosive Disorder. No kidding. Until now almost everyone thought this was a lack of self control. Turns out, like over eating, it is a disorder, no self control needed. I am not an angry person after all, I just have a touch of the Itis. Hopefully this will finally land me those placards I have been wanting. Just the thought of not being able to find a parking place, especially on a rainy day.... I am seething right now, my rage knows no bounds, the furious intensity of a thousand white hot suns exploding just behind my eyes. I just pulled out a desk drawer and crushed it into toothpicks on my assistant's arm which I think is also broken now too. Dumb ass shouldn't have come in while I was angry. Anyways, I am not mad now, it is intermittent ya know, so it comes and goes almost without warning. Someone should think up some kind of intermittent pill or intermittent cure for this. Until then, I am going to enjoy being protected by the American's with Disabilities Act. Next time my boss gets all up in my grill, and I intermittently turn into a human blender destroying person and property in furious, blinding anger, she will of course understand it is just my disorder acting up, and she can no more blame me for my path of destruction around the office then she could blame another employee for being confined to that annoying wheelchair. Just the thought of that thing squeaking down the hallways, blocking up exits.. "Can you give me a little push to the..." I will give you a push, I will push you right into the very depths of hell, you gold bricking, free loading... nevermind, I am not mad anymore.

Some things should never fall away.

2006-05-23T09:31:00.000-07:00

Why is it that "Woe unto you" ever quit getting used in speech or written dialogue? I haven't heard anyone say it in....well, maybe ever. But, like John Travolta, it needs to make a come back. I take that back, John Travolta didn't need to make a come back, but he did make one. And, in the same manner, this expression needs to make a similar come back. Only this expression should not get too full of itself and make movies like Broken Arrow, Swordfish or Battlefield Earth. Woe unto you, John Travolta, for making a come back and squandering it on crappy scripts and bad acting.

Mmmmmm, narsassism.

2006-05-10T13:28:00.000-07:00

Why not, instead of lusting after people that are freakishly beautiful, surround yourself with those who are freakishly unattractive. Then, lust after yourself.

Policies and Procedures

2006-05-10T08:59:00.000-07:00

You do realize that, if you have the opportunity to write the policy and procedure on policies and procedures where you work, you can redefine those words to mean pretty much anything you want, right?

These are kinda what they are supposed to mean:
Policy
Procedure

It's a good idea to memorize the original definitions so you can sneer and repeat them back mockingly when someone mistakes these for what your policy and procedure has actually defined them as.

Bionics.

2006-04-28T15:42:00.000-07:00

Presently, when someone starts talking about Steve Austin, most people think of professional wrestling. I want to talk about the Bionic Steve Austin. The man barely alive. Oscar Goldmen's Steve Austin. Personally, I would hate to have seen his twisted, charred torso when he was pulled from his space craft wreckage. For all the parts they replaced, he was a mess. It is a wonder they found his legless, one armed, one eye near remains at all. What is more of a miracle though, is that in the mid 70s they had the technology that saved him. I think in the 70s, even if they could have put his body back together, his skin still would have looked something like noggahide. I have a sneaking suspension as well that Steve Austin might not have had an operating unit after such an accident, but that is a whole other discussion.

Of course, with my keen interest in physics and science as a whole, I recent;y got to thinking about his crazy bionic strength. His bionic eye I am really going to over look. Although bionics made one of his eyes see like the scope of a sniper rifle when needed, no one really has any idea how eyes actually work, It is a mystery for the ages that has dumbfounded scientist worldwide. However, everyone knows how arms and legs work, there is hardly anything to them. Some muscles, a few nerves and veins, an arm..or leg. Easy to believe we were making bionic people parts then as well as now.

What I don't get is how you put them together. For instance, Steve Austin has an arm capable of lifting a car. Amazing. I am sure he showed that off at parties. What I don't get is how the arm stayed attached. They didn't go over that in the show. And sure, if he planted both bionic legs, he could curl the car from the bumper with the one bionic arm. Oh yeah, except the muscles referred to in the field as "core brute strength" muscles, i.e. your back and stomach, are in between those bionic parts. (for the record, Steve Austin's core brute strength is normal and average, not bionic.) Even if I had bionic legs and a bionic arm, I don't really see my core brute strength supporting the weight of a car. I think the first time Steve went to lift a car, his bionic arm would have torn off in a bloody mess of wires and noggahide and bionics. I also bet he would get a pretty bad hernia.

Next time NASA decides to turn one of their astronauts into a cyborg (which I am all for), I think they really ought to make the whole dude bionic. Or at least 99% of a whole dude.

LARPing

2006-04-05T09:21:00.000-07:00

While I've heard of this before, I recently read a bit about it in Wired magazine. If you are not familiar with LARPing, and I don't know why you would be, you can read something about it in this article, or search it on Google. I had to do both. To me, reading about this practice is something like passing a bad car accident. I don't want to see dead bodies, blood and hair all over the asphalt, yet I can't help but to slow down and really stare either.

I checked out a site that sells LARPing weapons. I still am processing what I have seen. Swords made out of pvc, foam and latex that real people carry around with them, and might do real combat (with foam weapons) to determine an outcome and continue a story line. A story. This is like using your real life to act out a different life you cannot or do not have. In a way I wish more people did this, I would love to be eating at Applebee's and see some random guy walk in and LARP another dude while he is eating. Did that sound dirty?

In some LARPs, people use magic. Being that no one seems able to really use powerful combat magic in real life*, LARPers might throw objects that represent magic, or just stand and point while yelling what there spell is doing. If I was LARPing with someone like this, and I have no clue why I would be LARPing, I think I would tell the magic guy that I am putting on my shove your magic in your buttocks magic shield and taking out my shut the hell up amulet. My amulet makes you have to be quiet while I am wearing it and you are around me, magic guy.
*(if there was real combat magic, and I can hardly believe I am saying this, but I think people that could do it would be Navy SEALS and they would be taking our style of crippling magic to terrorist everywhere. You loose, terrorists, "I am casting burning magic on you, it is causing your skin to burn mildly, but causing searing white hot pain right on your taint." Take that terrorists.)

LARPing....I couldn't fight in a battle where my sword might get ripped. This is a jury I would like to sit on.
"Your honor, I LARPed home and I found my wife in bed with Enormotron. He was LARPing her furiously from behind. When he saw me, he reached for his Pulsating Plasmatic Phase Gun. I didn't want my character to be banished to another dimension, so I LARPed his head off. My wife is a druid, so she quickly through bean bags at Enormotron's limp, lifeless body while yelling 'my healing spell is causing your head to reattach to you body, you are feeling better and not getting anymore blood on my carpet' but her spells were not powerful enough and his head remained LARPed onto the floor."

If I was the defense attorney, I would plead insanity. I take that back, if I was the defense attorney, I would quit and look for a job with the DA.

Toy's aren't Us.

2006-04-03T16:19:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend I had occasion to go to Toy's r Us. What a sham. What a farce. They didn't have what I was looking for. In fact, they don't have much of a selection at all. I will tell you what they do have though...baby clothes, cribs, strollers, bedding.... It is in the name. Toy's R Us. Toys! These items are not toys. They have a whole other store for that crap, Babies R Us. Seriously, I don't go into Babies R Us looking for Legos, GI Joes, Barbie's, Thomas Train stuff, Blue's Clues paraphernalia... Why would I go into a toy store looking for sheets, cribs, bottles... It makes for a store that is neither a good toy store, nor a good baby accoutrement store. I am going to start a toy store and I am going to call it Crappy Selection R Us. I am going to get the buyers from Toys R Us to buy for me. I want exactly the same thing they buy for them. It should be no problem, if you order it for them, order it for me too. The only difference is, I will offer my crappy selection at reasonable prices. I will make up for it by paying my people less for the work they don't do. I will have less people too. However, I will openly embrace the entrenched philosophy of my competitors. I will tell my workers they don't have to help anyone unless they feel like it. "I don't know" is a perfectly acceptable answer. If the customer doesn't like it they can sit on a tack. Long waits are good, and so are invasive procedures in the check out line. If you see a customer approaching you, RUN FOR IT!, they probably want to bug you, and I don't pay you enough to be bugged. If you start off being short with customers, it saves all that foreplay. Cut to the chase I say. My employees will have awesome black uniforms. Whatever the Hot Topic employees are wearing is what my employees will wear. I am not going to have some lame, creepy animal mascot either. Crappy Selection R Us needs something like a flaming skull. Nothing says toys like an obsidian flaming skull. I can't wait to design the graphic and write the employee manual

What is the real story?

2006-03-28T17:15:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I write parts of little stories to keep me creative (creative = freak) One of these stories is one that I made up, and kind of like. One of these things is a real occurrence. It might be difficult to guess which is which, but I leave it to you. Which one happened, and which did I fabricate?

I was angry. The reasons didn't matter. Mad. Burning with the intensity of the white hot desert sun. The kind of anger that can drive a person to do despicable deeds. I was on the road. Captain of my vehicle, Captain of my destiny. Seething. I am stuck at a red light. Radio blaring loud music. Fist tight on the wheel. Jaw set. Eyes straight ahead. Burning. Suddenly, a voice next to me. Why would anyone ask me for directions at a time like this. Why don't I own a gun? Down the music goes. "What?" Looking over at the woman in the SUV next to me."Are you angry?" She asked a second time. Do I know you? This is a red light. I am now confused, and maybe angrier. "Yup." I fire back sharply like the sound of a metal car antennae slapping bare skin. "What's the matter? Why are you angry?" I can feel the light about to turn green. Why is all I can think. Why would someone ask me this? "I don't want to talk about it, but thanks."

It was cold. Colder than sticking your hand in a bucket full of ice water and salt. If you have never tried that, it is cold. Having misplaced my pants, I was walking outside in only my flip flops and an ascot. The ascot didn’t offer much protection from the cold. My goal was to get back to the heated water of the hot tub as soon as possible. That is why I took this little short cut. Well, at the time it seemed like a short cut. I didn’t realize how far the drop really was. From up there, it didn’t seem so bad. Turns out the big pile of what I thought was soft, fluffy snow was actually a thin layer of snow on top of an old car. The windshield was a slippery place to land. I will tell you, I didn’t think I could make a dent that big in a car and walk away from it, but that is exactly what I did. I wasn’t going to hang around and wait for the owner of the house to come out and see the damage I had just done to his automobile. Nor did I want any difficult questions about why I was in the hot tub or where had the ascot come from. It is my ascot and my business, that is the way I see it, loosing my pants and warming up in a strangers hot tub were merely side effects of a much bigger and more serious situation. The ascot, however, just made sense.

Telekinesis

2006-03-27T13:43:00.000-08:00

If you don't recognize, and you better recognize, this is a scene from x-men 2. Magneto extracted metal from that poor guard shmuck. The metal came out of his blood as...dust? And Magneto, using his mutant powers, formed the dust into metal marbles that shot all around breaking up his plastic prison cell. Then, he flattened one of the marbles out and stepped onto it and flew through the air with the other 2 marbles orbiting him. I looked for a picture of him flying over that giant void on a flat marble, but I couldn't find it. Does this mean that, if there is metal involved, Magneto can lift anything? Say there was an immovable object that was in the way, he could just throw some bbs under it and move it out of the way? Weight and size of an object don't matter as long as there is something metal underneath it?

While trying to figure out the limits of Magneto's powers, it occurred to me that similar powers existed in Jedi's. They seemed to be able to lift anything with only the power of their minds. They don't even need marbles. This is a picture of Yoda lifting Luke's X-wing out of the swamp. Yoda should have left it there. "Get this is what you do. A crappy parking spot you have chosen. If the Force you cannot use, a winch or some ropes and pulleys you should invest in."

After thinking this scene through in my head, I remembered something important. Something I am shocked I have only now just remembered. The dialogs in this scene, which I have cut from another internweb site and will paste here for you now:

LUKE: (panting heavily)
I can't. It's too big.

YODA: Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you? Hm? Mmmm.

How did I not remember this before? How did I not laugh about this before? Size matters not? Only a guy with a Yoda would say size matters not.

Time to say goodbye.

2006-03-07T11:19:00.000-08:00

It's almost moving day here. Tomorrow is the big day. Most of my toys and office supplies are packed. I am leaving the cube farm in the new building for an office in the old building. Cube farm is an over statement, this is more of a cube patch. Calling this a farm is an insult to farms. I am not going to miss the half mile walk from my truck to my desk every morning. I am not going to miss the half mile trek out either. Nor will I miss the mile round trip at lunch. I am not going to miss my five foot high faux walls or my modular furniture. I won't miss having to sneak my soda back to my desk after lunch, sodas are free to come and go how they please in the old building. I am not going to miss the stain on the carpet where I spilled some frosting. I don't think I will miss all the noise that comes into a cube. There is not much about my current set up I am gonna miss. In the men's room of the new building, I will have to turn the faucet on for myself, it will not turn on automagically. Likewise, I will have to flush the toilet for myself. Hopefully that I flush the toilet when I am done using it will start a needed trend, even a revolution in men's room care. Probably not, but I can dream. I will miss the smell of the day in the men's room over here. I know that is disgusting, but it is a new adventure everytime I go in there. Incidentally, today it smells like evil. You might not have known that had a smell, but it does. I will not miss the automatic flushing toilets and sinks. Maybe flushing the toilet instead of depending on a machine to do it for me can be part of my weight loss plan? I will miss the excitement of the half bird half rat critter in the ceilings of the new building. I can only hope the Braats find their way over to the old building. I will miss having a perfect place to hide cigarettes, even though I don't smoke. I will miss seeing the Erics on the occasions anyone plays darts on a break. That about tears it with stuff I will miss. Nothing else comes rushing to mind. Just like that, the new place is out, the old place is in. Good riddance new place. I wonder if the new tenant to my former cube will be able to figure out what that stuff is on the wall? I am not gonna tell the new tenant what it is. It's my little secret, think of it as a gift, if you will. I wonder if the new owner will appreciate my modifications? Maybe I shouldn't talk about them, nevermind. In short, from now on, these blogs will be written in a hard walled office. Maybe they will finally start making sense.

UPDATE: Now the men's room smells like evil mixed with a lite chef's salad... And maybe a little bit of the musty odor from the inside of a mountain man's boot. If there was a vortex in there that opened up to a landfill in an alternant reality, well, lets just say that would explain some things.

Danish Ninjas

2006-03-03T12:59:00.000-08:00

I feel sad for Danish people. They can't be Ninjas. Not like Canadian Ninjas are really revered the world over, but at least if you are Canadian, you can aspire to grow up and be a Ninja. Danish people everywhere, rise up! Set fire to your clogs, that's right, the wooden shoes that let everyone for miles away know that you are coming, and become Ninjas!

I wonder if the Danish SWAT team (I say The because I am sure in Danishland they only have the one SWAT team. I am pretty sure they don't allow guns in the country. As well I believe drugs and hookers are legal....which leaves zero reason to break the law.) Anyways, I wonder if the Danish SWAT team is really called SWAT? Maybe it is called SCAT. Special Clothing and Tactics. Or maybe it is just called SSAT, or STASS. (special shoes and tactics & special tactics and special shoes respectively) Anyway, I bet whatever the SWAT team is named there, they don't use clogs or bad guys would hear em coming.

Devil's Advocate.

2006-02-28T10:24:00.000-08:00

In a devil's advocate situation, you don't really get to choose who is going to advocate for you. I can't think of a time when I appointed someone as my official Devil's Advocate. In fact, people that Advocated for the Devil on my behalf...well, I may never even know they did it.

Interestingly, the term comes from the Roman Catholic church. The Devil's Advocate was the church official who was supposed to argue against someone becoming a saint, or being canonized. So, it really was someone who served on behalf of the devil, which makes me think I would make a good Devil's Advocate, but that is an argument for another day.

Being that a Devil's Advocate is truly in league with the Prince of Darkness (I mean the devil, not Ozzy Ozborn), what happens if you are a crappy advocate? You are already advocating for Satan. What worse could happen to you? Satan isn't going to like you? He already doesn't. You are going to end up in hell for doing a poor job of advocating on the Devil's behalf? Who are you kidding, if you are in league with Satan himself, do you really think you are going anywhere besides straight to hell? This being the case, why are people so hot to play Devil's advocate in an argument? I am only going to advocate for the Almighty from now on. When I get the urge to jump into an argument on someone's behalf, I am going to stop myself. I will cut that person loose. Their actions are in question, I don't want to get in touch with evil itself to try to defend someone who is most likely guilty anyways. I will say, "I don't know what they did, or if what you are saying is fair or right. Allow me to play God's advocate in this case. Repent." I think the over riding issue of getting things straight with your maker is enough to show the petty nature of every argument that might need a Devil's Advocate.

In short, turn from your evil ways and repent.

It's been awhile...(guns)

2006-02-10T16:50:00.000-08:00

That's right, it has been awhile, but don't think I have forgotten you. I can't get you out of my mind. Sometimes you are all I think about. The way you look, how you make me laugh, the way you smell so....bloggy. I bet I just made the word "bloggy" up. Mmmmmmmm, Bloggy.
So, I am sure the word guns in the title caught more attention than anything else. Do you know that when you go to buy a gun (and if you haven't bought a gun, what are you waiting for? The supreme power of life and death is only a trigger pull away!) you have to wait 10 days? They call that a cooling off period. I guess the fear here is that someone is going to come home, catch his wife cheating on him, and in a blinding rage head off to the sporting goods store, pick out a desirable and powerful gun, ammo to load said gun, and head home... Ideally still in a blinding and psychotic rage, and shoot everyone you find with your shiny new weapon. I don't really know about anyone else, but when I am angry, I want immediate gratification. If my blinding rage allows me the presence of mind to leave the house to buy a gun, it is likely I will use it on someone in traffic on my way home. Conversely, if I go to the store, buy a gun, but come home without it and begin my 10 day wait, I don't think that "cool down" is the right term. I think from now on this should be called the 10 day festering and planning period. This is better anyway, less innocent people are likely die. In 10 days it seems that you could book a one way flight to Borneo, get cash advances on all your credit cards, eat the food inn your freezer, rent a get away car, ya know, the important stuff.

Printing up email.

2006-01-23T14:21:00.000-08:00

I know in this recycle happy, "save the trees" culture we live in, printing email is pretty much a no no. However, this is yet another case of technology getting too far ahead. If you read an email that pisses you off, what do you do with it? I am not able to express my full anger by clicking the delete button that merely moves the email from my inbox to my deleted files folder. Although an "utterly destroy this email?" button would be a start. Short of that new button, I feel forced to express my anger by eating something sugary because it isn't good for me, and work on my "Black Monday" plan which I am not really at liberty to talk about or then it wouldn't be a terrible secret that eats at my soul. Screw you Hippinazis, tree hugging fascists, I am printing emails that make me mad. Why would I print up an email that makes me mad, you are wondering if you are not already on the phone with Greenpeace. It has to be printed in order for me to crumple it up really tight and throw it as hard as I can at the trash can. The sender can't feel an email being deleted, but I have no doubt they feel my temporary jarring, white hot hatred of them and their lameass email when it hits my trash can at 90mph.

Easy Time Travel.

2005-12-12T14:45:00.000-08:00

Time travel. The subject of an endless amount of science fiction. I don't know why, but in all the science fiction I could think of regarding time travel, it is a difficult, expensive, somewhat dangerous process. In the movie The Time Machine (I am thinking more specifically of the remake, I watched the original, but I was a kid and don't really remember it) a time machine seems to only need some spinning parts and a few electronics. I don't really remember what made the thing go, but I do remember thinking I could totally build one based on what I saw. I only really remember that time machine going forward though, not back...Perhaps it would have gone back, but back wasn't a desirable destination? Either way, if you wanted to take something or someone with you, it/they would have to be small because the time machine was small. Back to the future had a stylish time machine. The flux capacitor made it possible for fictional characters to travel both into the past and into the future. However, same drawback, small machine and added drawback; very costly. At least I think nuclear waste is costly? I do remember from a report I did in Jr High that nuclear waste is very dangerous. I also know that from watching "Fat Man Little Boy" starring John Cusack. In Star Trek they travel through time in many episodes. They never seem to do it the same way twice. Most notably, Captain Kirk and crew take a Klingon Warbird back in time to abduct a couple of whales. They need em on future Earth. It seems we run out of whales, but whale people from outer space check in on our whales and disrupt everything in the process. Side note, If you were a whale stolen from the past and freed into a future ocean where there were no other whales, and a whale satellite is in orbit asking you about the planet, what good thing are you going to have to say? If it were me I would tell the satellite exactly what happened and hope I could go back to whale planet where it was hopefully more safe, after they have destroyed Earth, of course.

I am working on a time machine myself. It will run off of a long lasting lithium battery. There will be a spot on it for extra batteries with easy battery installation instructions and tools, just in case. Unlike other time machines that I have seen, this will be not be a portal design, nor will it be a vehicle. It will be more like a hat. I put it on top of a car, set the date, turn it on, boom, I am there. Easy as pie. Take the time machine off the roof of the car, throw it in the trunk and I am on my way. Or I could take a motorcycle, or go without a vehicle, or a golf cart, a horse, a tank, a crate of guns, a banquet table... whatever mood hits me really.

I am not going to use my time machine for one time trips or adventures so much as I am going to use it for commuting. I will work in the present, I will very literally live in the past. After work, I will drive my 89 Toyota back to 1990, where I will also live. The money I make now will go allot farther 15 years in the past. Also, my 4runner has almost 190,000 miles on it. Imagine when the dealer sees that I have put that many miles on an 89. They will ask how I have done this in less than 6 months. I will tell them that is none of their bee's wax, it is still under warranty, make repairs so I can be on my way. I will take my ipod too, but not to try and reverse engineer it...I say I am going back in time, not growing a new brain. I will show it off of course, but when pressed I will tell people it is Australian. No one knows what is going on down there anyways.

This is a detail, but my time machine will have nothing to do with a spinning pattern when I travel through time. I will start it, wait a minute, and be there with no fuss. The time machine will not whirr or make any noise other than say "SHAZAMM!" I can't wait to hear Nirvana and Pearl Jam back in regular rotations on the radio.

Daisy Chain

2005-12-02T08:59:00.000-08:00

Recently I read in the news a few times about the growing popularity of groupular sexual activity among the high school crowd. Funny, on the surface I am sure you probably think, "why can't I be in high school now?" Well, news flash, you would be just as nerdy now as you were then, and you would be hearing about the phenomenon from the news or my blog even if you were still in high school. Just because it happens doesn't mean you would be involved purely because you are there. Further, I don't believe it is the problem the news makes it out to be. Sure, kids didn't get caught taking part in this sort of activity at school 20 years ago, but it doesn't mean it didn't happen. Reporters do have to try and find new ways of shocking people. Really, you gotta thank the teenage crowd for helping out in that respect. Also, thank the fine state of California, we are always good for a slow news day. However, I digress.

So, my comments on this are really directed more at, of course, the lack of vocabulary to cover these types of stories. I am not even sure if reporters know what daisy chain or circle jerk mean, they just like to pretend that they do. These words rarely adequately describe the kinds of activities that took place. At the same time, I don't know that we need a blow by blow of the entire orgy, so to speak. Media, I know you are all reading my blog, the new word is Polycircusex. I demand credit for smithing that word in your future reports. Just say it came from my blog, that causes everyone to nod like they have a clue. No one wants to admit they don't know what a blog is. I won't even admit I am not sure what a blog is.

I know right off someone is going to say, "Hey, that looks like Circus Sex." Well don't. You're completely unoriginal, we all saw that. However, most of us know that a circus takes place in a round tent around some amount of rings. Most of us get that Polycircusex has to do with the circular theme and not humping midgets and elephants. I haven't made the word up for that yet; it will more than likely have the word "carni" in it somewhere, not circus. Also, most of us all know that a circus was a roundabout in Britain, but has fallen out of common vernacular. Most of us, except the few of you still thinking about getting humped by a clown. Get past it.

The other group of you that are thinking "Polycircusex sounds like it means many circles of sex", yeah we all get that too. Computer programmers aren't the only ones with the capacity for logic. You just think you are. The rest of us aren't stupid, but we are bigger than you and are tired of your condescending attitudes. The word is Polycircusex, get used to it.

To the group of you who read the word and thought quietly of a big orgy in a circus tent, maybe with midgets, maybe not, well, mad props.

Got that media? Polycircusex. The new universal word to cover all circle/group sex type activities. I can't wait to see this blog credited in the news. My hits will rise to tens of tens. If hits were money, I will be a hunredaire.

Words to live by.

2005-12-02T08:53:00.000-08:00

Having it in the bag is way different than taking it in the sack.

The Record.

2005-11-30T10:10:00.000-08:00

This just needs a whole new post; when "Jay" gets a blog, he can state the record, until then, that is what I am here for. From the front seat, I could see the speedometer, it read 24 mph when I heard "Jay" say "I could get out and run this fast." That appearing to be a laughable statement, "Bill" did the math off of 20 mph because 24 base math is more difficult for someone who is driving and laughing than 20 base math. Let's face it, 24 base math is more difficult even if you have a calculator because like we all know, math is hard. So, if "Jay" is able to get a 20 mile an hour sprint, while I will be impressed, it will not be 24 mph.

If you don't read comments left in blogs, than you missed out this time. Please, do us all a favor and weigh in on the validity of this data: Two guys bs-ing. To give credit, the author of the linked thread appears to teach or research at Stanford. However, the rest of this thread is about weather a fast moving elephant is actually running, or just going fast and the application it might have to the question "did dinosaur's run?" The person who wrote in about human running speeds I think might just be wondering if he could out run an elephant, which isn't even relevant to the thread. "Jay" should for sure race that guy. While I don't think "Jay" can run 20 or 24 mph, I still think he could beat the elephant running guy. Also, the bit about running 27 mph, the author says "sprinters can hit ~27 mph at peak instantaneous speed" Not to sweat this guy but last time I checked instantaneous means done, occurring, or acting without any perceptible duration of time. So, runners can run 27 mph for an imperceptible period of time. I don't want to go into the list of super human feats I can manage for imperceptible periods of time, lets just say, it is quite long. Honestly, this is helpful. I now require that "Jay" run the 24 mph for a perceptible period of time. After all, not like 24 mph is 27 mph.

Incidentally, this conversation was all sparked from this Darwin Award in case anyone cares to check it out. Everyone knows Danish people run slow.

I think for the running experiment, the truck should be brought up to 24 mph, and "Jay" should get to start running before the truck even gets there. He should easily be able to get up to 24 mph and run evenly with the truck for a good 50 yards or so. Maybe there should be a second vehicle going 20 mph, just to see if he is hitting the easy figuring mark. Also, "Jay" will be positioned outside the truck to make sure death is not involved.

Odd, "Robbie Underpants" jumped from the back of my truck and it wasn't even going 15 mph, and everyone laughed at him for hitting the ground and rolling. "Robbie" looks equally built to run. I know it is all speculation... Science will bare out the truth. And by science I mean "Jay" trying to keep up with a car.

Faster than a slow moving car.

2005-11-29T14:12:00.001-08:00

Today at lunch, my friend, again, we will just call him "Jay," over heard a conversation about being able to run as fast as the car was moving. He felt he could run as fast as we were currently driving. We were driving 24 mph at the time. I am not saying he can't, personally I am up for testing him, he has surprised me in the past. However, I strongly feel his judgment loses credibility with regard to kicking a dog's ass. Anyone who thinks he can go desk chair to 24 mph, even for a short burst, seems likely to have his ass handed to him by a dog... If he were to get in a fight with a dog. Anyone own a dog they think would win in a fight with a human? Or more specifically, with "Jay"? If so, I would like to borrow it to conduct some experiments. Good thing no one nailed down if the dog fight would be a surprise. I find usually fights with animals are not planned events. One of these days, when "Jay" unlocks his office in the morning, the experiment will be ON! The dog fight one I mean. Maybe the running one can be right after that.

Expressions I don't hear enough.

2005-11-29T14:05:00.000-08:00

I don't know, maybe it is that I lead a boring life? Maybe it is that I don't look for enough action or adventure? Maybe it is that I have a desk job and not some other job that gets me out and about more? I don't know. What I do know are these are phrases I don't think I hear often enough:

"Wow, I didn't think the whole thing would catch on fire."
"This isn't toothpaste after all."
"Did you know this was loaded? Personally, I thought it wasn't."
"We will totally fit."
"No, I am sure it doesn't bite."
"We will get there in plenty of time."
"It isn't sharp enough to cause any damage."
"That is balanced up there perfectly."
"It isn't heavy enough to crush anything."
"I am positive this is secure."
"Poisonous? Don't be absurd."
"Something smells funny, and by funny, I mean unnatural."
"It's almost the same as a bananna, only deadly."
"I don't think you will need a harness, it isn't that high."
"Pretty soon we should really have this thing serviced."
"No worries, this is foolproof."
"Becareful sticking your hand in there, that thing is sharp and fast."
"I don't see how it could possibly blow up."
"Doctor's are a waste of time, just be a man about it."
"No one is going to see us doing this."
"I have done this a million times before."
"I know what it looks like, but cheese isn't naturally occuring."
"Try staring right at it, let it know whose boss."
"It isn't that far down."
"It doesn't look infected to me."
"Sell by dates are a joke, it smells fine to me."
"This does not leave a stain."

I could write this into infinity, so I guess now is as good a time to stop as any.

Wrong.

2005-11-28T12:52:00.000-08:00

I am thinking of writing a menu of food that I wouldn't eat. Everyone knows Grapple Pie would be on it. Here are a few other things that would be on the menu:
Laminated Beef Fingers.
Laminated Ham Fingers/ Ham Wings Pork Sauce
Mapple (an apple that tastes like meat)
Meat Slurpee
Chickuna
Pepto Bismol Ice Cream

Currently I am also working on a way to make Pepto Bismol a new condiment. It might not taste as good on a hotdog as just ketchup and mustard, but it will make you feel better after you have eaten it. It might also make into a good side dish at Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. Eat America! Eat all the Laminated Beef Fingers and Ham Wings you can hold, and when your pants are unbuttoned and you feel a little nauseous, reach for desert. That's Pepto Ice Cream! Cold, yummy and pink! If Pepto Ice Cream isn't your flavor, at least try Pepto bits on your regular ice cream, or salad, whichever. I have in mind a plastic ketchup bottle that is Pepto pink instead of red. It would be just as ok to top ice cream with it as a cheap steak. You could even drip a sliced up grapple in it.

My Humps.

2005-11-16T10:58:00.000-08:00

Has everyone heard this song? Currently, you can see the video here: My Humps. This post isn't a statement of the nature of the song, I am sure after watching the video, or even hearing the song, it is clear that the Black Eyed Peas are masterful artists at the very top of their craft. The two dudes in the video that don't even say anything are maybe the best, but I am already straying from the point I want to make.

When I heard this song, I felt old. And not because watching the video made me wonder what is the matter with today's youth. There are parts of the song I just don't understand... I don't understand why you would ask someone "what you gona do with all that ass inside those jeans?" All that ass sounds like "Hey fatty, bring your big fatty ass over here, I mean if you aren't busy with it." All that ass. All of it. The whole entire monstrosity you have in those jeans, what are you gona do wif it? Maybe take it for a run on the treadmill? (incidentally, this isn't my take on Fergie's ass, which I find remarkable. To clarify, I find her ass remarkable. It is worth remarking over, which I have now done to prove it. I don't know whose ass the guy is talking about, even though he is looking at hers? Very confusing.)

"What you gona do wif all that breasts, all that breasts inside that shirt?" Honestly, this isn't even English. However, it is art, so I will give some leeway and pretend 'all that breasts' is acceptable English. This isn't as confusing, women seem to want bigger breasts judging only by how many women seem to be getting implants. But all that breasts? All of it. I dunno, why not at least say "them". It sounds like he is wanting to make sure that, if he has the opportunity to do anything with her breasts, he wants to make sure she doesn't forget part of them somewhere. "Oh all that breasts? I only bought some of that breasts inside my shirt. I wish you would have said you wanted all that breasts louder honey."

The part I am thoroughly confused over, and I am pretty sure I am not the only one... "Mix your milk with my cocopuff, milky milky cocopuff..." What? Seriously? This is a delicate topic, so I will try not to be vulgar. If he would have said his milk and her cocopuffs, case closed. That makes sense, surprisingly. If he would have said "mix some milk wit some cocopuffs," that leaves it open to something sexual or something breakfasty. Being that he is a black man, I can understand where he might have a couple of cocopuffs. But the rest of the song doesn't seem to be about a lactating fetish, so that interpretation seems totally out of context. Apart from that, I am not sure I wanna know where the milk is coming from to mix with his cocopuffs? Which leaves me hanging, is there some awesome thing they know about and I don't? Would I want to have milk mixed with my cocopuffs if I knew how to go about it? Do I even have cocopuffs? Maybe I would want milk mixed with my Kix or Frankenberries? Or maybe I don't want that at all? Maybe I want nothing to do with any milk getting mixed with anything of mine?

The whole thing is vexing. I am vexed.

measured amounts

2005-11-01T09:36:00.000-08:00

First, I reserve the right to add types of measurements that I might have inadvertently left out. Also, by way of a thesis, I will give you commonly used amounts with the little known matching numeric definitions, with a discussion of not so commonly used amounts and a discussion of their meaning.
Commonly, I find myself faced with this dilemma: Someone asks me:
"May I have some."
Some? Doesn't matter what I am giving some of, what matters is how much is some? When someone asks me for say, some m&m's. Do I have any idea what the amount difference is between some and a handful? What about a few? "Can I have a few of those?"
What if I accidentally give some instead of a few? What about a lot?
"This isn't a lot of those, this is only a few."
"It is more than a few, it is some!"
"Well, it might be some, but I asked for a lot."
"I don't have a lot to give you, here, just have a handful."
"I want more than a handful, you have tons!"
"I don't have tons, I hardly have any"
"You have a buttload!"
"Will, you could have had some, or a handful, but since you are a complainer, you may only have a couple."

No one has any idea what the amount was to begin with, nor what it got whittled down to. But now, this will never happen to you again:

Regular Scale Measurements:

one= 1 single one.
a couple= two
a few= 3-7
some= 8-19
a lot= 20-33

Outside of this regular scale of measurement, are overlapping measurements.

Nonstandard Scale of Measurements:

a handful= 6-23 (it has a broad scope. A handful can be as few as "a few", or as many as a small "a lot")
many= 25-41 ("many" starts in the "a lot" category, but surpasses its cap. In fact, it surpasses the volume of the whole regular scale of measurements)
a bunch= 17-29 ("a bunch" is similar in scope to "many," but is lesser in volume. Also, don't confuse the "a bunch" numeric measurement with the very similar adjective "a cluster." Clusters are tricky. They a given amount of one type of thing, stuck together into one thing. Peanut clusters being an obvious example. A not so obvious example are flowers. Common misusage of measurement language is to say, "I brought you a bunch of flowers," which is a misnomer. Correct usage is "I brought you a cluster of flowers." But cluster of flowers sounds wrong, so bunch is typically misappropriated for this use.)

There is a third category, the scope of which doesn't fit either the Standard or Nonstandard. The third set is called the Staggering System of Measurement. Staggering measurements are measurements that seem big enough that quantifying them, while not impossible, seems either daunting, or in some other way, undesirable.

Staggering System of Measurement:

A buttload-Assload
Tons
Gajillions

No numeric values are fixed to these because ultimately, who knows how many there are ?

The discussion of not so commonly used amounts, or the Arcane System of Measurement, will be further expounded in a future post. This post is probably enough new information to digest at once.

Fortune Cookies.

2005-10-26T10:22:00.000-07:00

About once a week, I eat at a place that serves fortune cookies with the meal. I have noticed a trend. Fortune cookies don't really tell your fortune, or any fortune. Not that I read my fortune and it doesn't come true, I mean the slip of paper inside the cookie isn't even a fortune. Below are some examples of "fortunes" with descriptions of what I believe the "fortune" actually is.

Avert misunderstanding by calm, poise and balance. =advice
A happy marriage is a long conversation that always seems too short. =nonsense
Life is too important to be taken seriously. =advice? Wittyness?
No matter what goes wrong, it will probably look right. =arguably an axiom, probably a maxim or proverb
If there is a wrong way to do something, most people will do it every time. =truism
The sum of the intelligence on the planet is a constant; the population is growing. =witticism (although it might be telling of our fortune...or misfortune.)
Nostalgia isn't what it used to be. = weak attempt at irony?
Now is not the time to try something new.= advice
You have a poor sense of humor and don't know a good time.=judgment
You have an evil heart and are greatly despised.=judgment
Failure surely comes your way= AN ACTUAL FORTUNE! And probably somewhat accurate...
Your luck has been completely changed today= Another fortune! I like this fortune because it seems positive, but isn't necessarily. You might think you have bad luck, but you might in fact have a lack of luck, and what little luck you have is good. If your tiny bit of good luck completely changed, you would have a large amount of bad luck. Certainly, the change would cause you to appreciate what you had. Isn't there a proverb about appreciating what you had once it is gone. If not, than add -- Peteicus X to the end of that last bit, and now it is a proverb. You're welcome.

After eating many fortune cookies that produce no actual fortunes, I believe I will at one point start a business that does two things.

A. I will write fortunes for fortune cookies. Actual fortunes. Things like, "People will like you." "You will do well at your endeavors." or, "that dude you have been after will not like you back." Those are fortunes, and that will be my specialty. They might not be correct, but they are fortunes all the same.

B. I am going to develop a new line of cookies. A few new lines. I really dig the taste of current fortune cookies as I have mentioned before, so I might keep the shape and recipe. Perhaps I will color code the cookies so you know if you are eating a fortune cookie, a judgment cookie, a proverb cookie, and advice cookie....the only limit to type of cookies I can make is the colors of cookies I can bake up.

Whatever cookies break in this process is what I will use to make my fortune cookie cereal.

Summed up...

2005-10-18T09:48:00.000-07:00

Your entire career, on a piece of paper the size of a credit card. I understand why they exist, if I go to a conference, or whatever, I want to be able to hand out my contact information hoping that the contact I make will help me get better contact information. Or I want to take contact information so the person I took contact information from can help me get new contact information. Maybe I will quit working where I work to work at a new place, or maybe someone can help me get ahead at my job enough so that I need a new business card that holds my new title. Director, Partner, CEO, CIO, Associate, Assistant Director, Coordinator, Project Manager, Lead, Technician, Developer, Manager, Executive Assistant, Customer Service Representative, Service Agent, Engineer, Supervisor, Controller, Clerk, Dispatcher...for awhile I was a Damage Adjuster. I adjusted damage. That was an enjoyable title sheerly because it had the word damage in it. A lot of titles, and they all mean something different. They are all words that signify action too. I guess that isn't true, really. There are waiters... Although they might not get cards.

Anytime I look for a new job, I have to write a new resume, a new cover letter, update a portfolio... (off topic: Who carries around a portfolio anymore? There isn't a correct word for what this has come to mean. The word portfolio is more about the case than what is inside it. Ironic this word has been misappropriated. When looking for new jobs, the searcher is more of a portfolio than anything else. Working is mostly about making sure you look good.) If I get a new job, among the first things the new place will give me is a new card. They summarize all the hiring documentation into a credit card size status symbol. "Thanks for all this paperwork, we are will to take a risk with you. Here is our summary of you to date." Why don't we wear these things as rank? Next new job I get, I think I am going to try and negotiate the title Viceroy. It isn't clear what I would be doing or why by my title. It sounds impressive, and wouldn't be easily stereotyped or pigeonholed. Viceroy it is.

Say you're sorry.

2005-10-17T11:27:00.000-07:00

I don't purposely go around driving like an ass, well, mostly I don't do it on purpose, there is the occasional sidewalk that needs running over, but for the most part, I try not to endanger people in other cars. Pedestrians don't count. In fact, if you are walking across a street and too cool to pay attention to what might be coming at you, then you deserve to be removed from the food chain. That is evolution in action. I really enjoy the faces cool people make when they finally have to look at oncoming traffic to make sure they aren't going to die. They suddenly realize that, although trying to be cool and walk slow and not look at the giant truck about to rend them asunder, they are maybe about to die, and have to check and see if they should leap. It is a great moment on every pedestrian's face, but I digress.

I feel bad when I, say, change lanes without seeing a car behind me. Said car is almost run off the road. When the driver gets even with me, invariably I look over and try to gesture that I am very sorry for my actions, I didn't see his tiny Ford Focus back there. I try to signal with my hands that I will for sure look more closely next time and endeavor to do better in the future. As you probably well know, there is no set and agreed on hand signal for this. There is, however, a set and agreed on signal that the angry driver issues me. Everyone, I am sure, has at one time seen the hand motion for "fuck you" which is an obvious choice in this case for the driver of the Focus. Meanwhile, I am doing what looks like interpretive dance trying to signal all my aforementioned feelings of sorrow over my actions. I am sure to the driver of the Focus, my shrugging shoulders don't indicate sorrow, as intended, but indicate that I don't care I almost ran em off the road. Focus driver can't hear that I am saying how sorry I am for what just happened, most people don't lip read. But when angry, most people interpret the offending party to say something like, "well maybe you should watch where you're driving, Jackass"

Here is the new plan. When you do something in traffic by accident that causes someone else to be angry, don't shrug or talk, hold out the back of your hand, fingers extended and pointing down. That is the Quietus Oppugn method for singling that you are sorry for a mistake. One day I will post an explanation for Quietus Oppugn, but until than, just take my word for it. You will look very sorry...and dangerous.

black holes...

2005-09-27T10:34:00.000-07:00

I have researched black holes now for a solid ten minutes now. Well, maybe not solid, but enough to consider myself somewhat of an expert based on what I read on NASA's web pages. When I used to be a lameman on the topic, I thought a black hole was an actual hole. Like a door way to another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and of sound, but of mind. A door way we could dump things through, like prisoners or broken cement. Turns out it is not a doorway at all, but a very solid, very dense and somewhat angry mass.

Water, being a substance that doesn't compress anymore than it already is, seemed like a good thing to pour inside a black hole and expand it. Theoretically expanding the black hole until it popped and got black hole yuck everywhere. However, now that I am an expert on black holes, I know that if I dumped water on a black hole, it would cause an ocean that would never have any waves. It would be perfect and glassy, great for water skiing, but if I flew a ski boat to a black hole, it would sink really fast, the ski boat I mean. Even if it didn't, it would be freaky driving a water ski boat around in the dark. Or maybe it is very bright on a black hole, being that no light escapes. Maybe it is the presence of all light? Now that I am an expert, I know this: Black holes are freaky.

This reminds me of grad school...

2005-09-27T09:37:00.000-07:00

I could barely get a word in on Jay there either. He always had his hand up "oh oh, it's a participial phrase with a dangling modifier!"
"Correct, I think.... Thank you for correcting the grammar in the math book again Mr. Rees." So, besides Jay, I guess either no one reads, or no one likes homework...or no one can retype a label from the inside of their pants. Don't think I didn't see you in your office with your pants off, Jay. Or maybe you weren't reading the label that time, it is hard to tell sometimes why you have your pants off in there? Not that it is any of my business, but either way, it's hot.

A product of your environment...

2005-09-21T11:38:00.000-07:00

Nature vs Nurture. It's been a big fight for much longer than I was in college. The text books that I read about this in looked old and yellowed. That tells me; people have been fighting about this maybe 20 years before I got into college. That is a long time. If you are one of those people that says, "20 years goes by in the blink of an eye" then try this on for size, "take off your pants and put on this paper robe, the Dr. Will be in to see you in 20 years." Blink of an eye my ass, it is a long time.

In all my time learning about this subject in college, nature vs nurture I mean, they don't have a class on waiting for a long time, I learned that every semester at the Admissions Office and in the parking lot, I never once heard it teamed with being a product of one's environment. Either way, you are either a product of your genetic environment, or a product of your surroundings and upbringing. Whichever side wins, it still means you are a product. We all are.

When I realized a am a product, I felt bad. Not because I am a product...But can you image a product with no visible labeling, no warnings, no ingredients list, no logo, no tag line....Nothing. I am sure some would argue that my face or outward appearance are my label. Nonsense. Nonsense is what I would say to that because it is nonsense, I do have a face and all, but when I look for products in the store, I look at labels, I don't look to see if the product has a face. In fact, that is creepy and whoever is thinking it should shut up. Seriously.

I think it is high time, all of us, as products, developed our own tag lines and logos. I liked the tag line: Cleaner, Stronger, Meaner. For me, but I also like the sound of: It's the Boozefortyest! I need to higher someone to market me. Products don't usually have to come up with this sort of thing on their own. I also need a logo. Something simple, elegant, easily recognizable... I think I am going to get a tattooed warning label that says: "Warning: Likes fire." Although, I am not sure where to put it.

This post has homework. If you read the post, you are obligated to complete the homework. If you don't, I will know, and so will the baby Jesus in the manger. Neither of us want to be let down. Post your new personal tag line, and maybe a link to a logo that you design for yourself. Ready? Go!

Not a Trekkie

2005-09-14T10:36:00.000-07:00

Seriously, I am not. I like the shows and have seen almost all of them from oldest to most recently canceled, but I don't have any "collectables" or go to conferences or anything that has to do with the life of a hard core fan...not that there is anything wrong with freakishly hardcore fans, but that is fodder for a different entry. That being said, there is a couple of Star Trek related items that are on my mind lately.

I watched a lot of episodes. LOTS. Never once have I seen a 110 outlet on the wall. Yet they all walk around with digital books and manuals, phasers and Tricorders that never get recharged. This distresses me on many levels.

My cell phone battery dies on a regular basis. My cell phone is a Nextel i-90. Compared to newer cell phones, it isn't sleek or small (although I make it sexy). From Next Gen on, they all wore those little things on their shirts they used to talk to each other. Besides that they are almost never out of range (even when talking to shipmates in orbit) and even though they smack it once and just start talking to whoever they want (I have to scroll through a lengthy phonebook to find who I wanna talk to, which incidentally, makes me want to hit my phone at times) the most vexing part is it never runs out of batteries. Never. Not once have I ever seen one charging. They also don't have battery lights to say when they are dying.

I have seen an episode where Spok accidentally left his Tricorder on and went through a time portal. He and Capt. Kirk later surmise that it was "like the Tricorder ran for weeks" and thank goodness because they used that info to get back to the time they belonged in. Unless that time portal had a Tricorder recharger in it, than I think that is maybe a load of crap. When was the last time anyone said "thank the sweet baby Jesus in the manger, I left my ________ on for weeks!"

Now, conversely, hand held phasers run out of juice from time to time. Usually in a pinch. I don't get how the manufacturers of the Tricorder batteries don't get with the Phaser battery people. Given Star Fleet Academy seems to be a Government deal, all this stuff is probably made by the lowest bidder, which actually explains the failing phaser batteries, but not the longevity of the Tricorder and badge communicator.

Every other episode where someone leaves on a runabout, it crashes into an M class planet with natural characteristics which render communication technology useless. (If I served aboard a Star Fleet ship, and someone said, "Hey, take a runabout and go..." Unless they finished that sentence with "...have fun on the hooker planet." that is the point I say, "Hell no. I quit, I will be in my quarters for the rest of the voyage watching Space TV." However, the Star Fleet crews I have come to know over the years never recognize the inherent dangers in leaving the ship on a runabout. They go, they crash. What is the first thing they start doing? "To boost the communications output of this device, I am hooking my phaser battery to the *technical space mumbo jumbo*..." Seriously, no one ever notices that Tricorders don't crap out, ever. I wish I could get a tricorder battery for my cell phone and Ipod.

I would talk about the holodeck here too, but since I am really focused on battery power at Star Trek devices, I will save the craziness of the Holodeck for another day.

A brand new award.

2005-09-07T14:34:00.000-07:00

That's right. I know you're brimming with excitement to see if you won. Believe me, as the person handing out this award, I wish a lot of people could win it. I wish I could roam the streets handing out this new, prestigious award to many people I encounter during the day. However, maybe this award should only be given out yearly, like to someone at the academy awards? Or maybe every business should give out this award to an employee once a year. Here it is, businesses give this new award to an employee. The employee who gets it gets to decide the next recipient and present it the following year at an awards ceremony, perhaps during Christmas time when most companies have a holiday thing anyways. The award you ask? As suggested by The Police in Sincronicty II, "The Humiliating Kick in the Crotch" award. You know if you receive it, you will train like a place kicker for the next year until presentation time. The sacrifice you will go though to hone your kicking leg's muscles into that of a tightly wound berserker robot. The anger you will release while passing on your utter humiliation in the ritual of passing on the reward. Almost like that movie Pay it Forward. I was vying for the Humiliating Kick in the Crotch, but I think Steve from accounting is going to get it this year. Coveted and feared. Non gender specific and publicly humiliating...