I don't like American Idol either, but...

So, I knew I wasn't alone in my American Idol vitriol. I work with a few people who are opposed to the idea for the same reasons I am. Rewarding minimal talent, etc etc.

Now, there's a website out there with the same sentiment...but the wrong idea.

www.votefortheworst.com

Basic idea: Screw American Idol over by voting for the "worst" contestant. Apparently, it's working...but is it? Is it really?

I say no. NO DAMN YOU NO!

All this does is perpetuate the problem. Now, instead of someone who at least has a decent set of pipes, getting through the farce, a farce is getting through the farce. And sadly enough, there are people in this country who don't realize what's going on, and probably think that anybody who gets far is actually talented.

Ugh ugh ugh. Counter intuitive type stupidity bugs the crap outta me. It really does.

Can I borrow a feeling?

So, the heir apparent to the Yankee dynasty hit a slight snag. The fact that his marriage is ending. Why does that matter? Well...he was married to the Boss's daughter. Woopsie.

But I have to ask, does this remind anybody else of The Simpsons?

Milhouse's parents get divorced, and his father Kirk loses his job at the cracker factory as a result. Because Luann's father is the owner. Oh, and because crackers are a family food, of course.

I don't know, having real life imitate a Simpson's plot is funny enough, but for it to happen to the Yankees heir apparent is even funnier to me.

Better luck next time, Mr. Swindal.

http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=2816598

Obligatory Baseball Post

Just finished watching "For Love of the Game," and it got me to thinking. And no, not about how I actually like that movie, overly sentimental chick flick disguised as a baseball film that it is (sue me). No, about how one of the most embarrassingly awkward things in sports fandom is to be at your teams park and be no-hit/perfect gamed.

I was there, April 4th 2001, when Hideo Nomo no hit the Baltimore Orioles. Considering the overall career of Nomo, that was pretty much the pinnacle of the low point (I know, I know) of the O's ineptness these past 9 seasons. But beyond being a little buzzed, and taking care of my VERY drunk college buddy in the upper decks of Camden Yards (he actually fell down the aisle stairs at one point. Not too far, but enough), I remember it pretty clearly. In fact, I had to wake my friend up to what was going on around the 7th inning, since he was too drunk to notice the magnitude of the situation.

Part of me hates that it happened. The other part is happy that I saw a no-hitter in person in my lifetime. Even if it was against a division rival on the second bloody day of the season...sorry, there's the hate I was talking about. I'm sure there are other accomplishments that invoke that same feeling, that sense of "I was there for history, even if it was at the detriment of my team" but damn if I can think of them.

In the spirit of the upcoming season, here are a few pictures of my favorite current Orioles.

Starting pitcher Erik Bedard. This could be the year he becomes elite. I sure hope so.
Second basemen and resident "aw, look how small he is and all the women fans love him" guy, Brian Roberts.
Right fielding sophomore hoping to not hit that sophomore slump, Nick Markakis. If only he hadn't started slowly last year, he could have been a stronger contender for RotY.
Now ex-right fielder, former first baseman who can't seem to get the hang of playing there, maybe a DH but also maybe gonna be in LF some Jay Gibbons. Looking for all the world like he's hurt himself in this picture. Which is possible, since he should have "oft-injured" permanently added to his name. But I have a soft spot for Rule V'ers that actually build a halfway decent Major League career.
And last, Miguel Tejada, who managed not to whine this off season. Way to go Miggy! I like this picture of him leapfrogging Gary Matthews, Jr, while wearing an '83 throwback jersey. I wish we'd get that cartoon bird back...though I do prefer the solid black/orange bill of the 60s and 70s to the 80s white face version.

Is this a haiku I see before me?

Tattoo at worst stage
scabbed ink starting to come off
it gets everywhere

Adventures in Releasing Your Movie Too Soon.

So, a few weeks ago, the Queen (check our her blog sometime, she's not as post happy as me, but she has good things to say when she does) and I saw Black Snake Moan. Not a bad little movie, very interesting concepts, even if I thought it was a bit unevenly executed. Christina Ricci was good in it, and surprisingly enough so was Justin Timberlake. In fact, acting was not remotely a problem to me.

However, they shouldn't have released this in late Feb/March. They should have held on to this movie for Nov/Dec. Why do you ask?

Because it would benefit Samuel L. Jackson.

I'll say this right now, and I freakin' mean it: If this movie would have been released at the end of Oscar season and not the beginning, there'd be serious Best Actor talk for SLJ. Seriously. As it is now, he'll probably get a mention here or there, depending on the Golden Globe nominations, but inevitably get shafted because of the timing. He was really that good. I have never, EVER seen the guy post Pulp Fiction and not consciously known I was watching Samuel L. Jackson. I forgot it was him in about 5 minutes flat. He became his character of Lazarus, through and through.

I wish I had Hollywood clout, because I'd lobby for the guy right up until the Oscar ceremony.

See how she clings to his leg? That's because she's afraid he won't get nominated.

Who cares what it smells like!

So, entering the body spray battle royale is Right Guard with their EXTREMELY named product RGX. I assume it's EXTREME because of the X. Because, as we all know, X means EXTREME (or the spot).

EXTREME!

They've got a somewhat genius ad campaign, though. Instead of the typical "see guy spray it on and have girls lose all freaking sense of inhibition or sense" ad which have been the norm for these body sprays for a few years now, they've gone with a very simple formula.

Step one: Get hot girl.

Hot girl: check.

Step two: Get hot girl to act provocative to camera.

Provocative towards camera: check.

Of course, the same basic psychological result is desired. Equate using body spray with hot girl actually wanting something to do with you. But call me crazy, using this technique is way more conducive to selling some body spray. Because it's relatively real, except for the fact that she's not actually talking to you. It isn't a thousand girls in bikinis racing towards you at top speed because you're twirling round and round spraying copious amounts of foul smelling stuff all over you (with an AEROSOL SPRAY YOU EARTH KILLER!) or getting three barely legal girls to play strip poker with you and actually want to lose. It's a girl saying "hey, I like a guy who smells good..."

I'm not gonna go out and buy RGX, but I have to admire the fact that they're being much more straight forward with their ad campaign.

Ukiah!

House is coming back
Idol no longer stops him
the caustic doc wins.

I've got nothing to say...

So I'm cheating, and using a writing prompt.

What would happen if it really did rain cats and dogs?

Well, I'd imagine that if it really did rain cats and dogs, the umbrella would be a much heavier tool, and more expensive as a result. Also, rain would be a lot noisier, both coming down, as it hits your roof. Messier, too. Not only would you have to worry about the mess it would make when the felines and canines hit the earth, but what about the mess they make as they come down from the sky? I'd imagine that the fall would scare the shit out of them, quite literally.

And what about those poor animals that survived their ordeal? Yeep.

Quick thought for a Saturday

Would you be freaked out if you got a tattoo from a guy who didn't have tattoos himself? Tattooless tattoo artists exist.

Also, number 10 again on David McMahon's Weekly Blog Awards. Go me, it's my birthday, have a party.

This just in from the "You're sh*ttng us" dept.:

Credit IMDb.com:

Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad on Wednesday called Warner Bros.' hit film 300 part of a U.S. propaganda campaign "to prevent our nation's development." In the movie a horde of Persian soldiers is held off by 300 Spartans at the battle of Thermopylae. "Today they are trying to tamper with history by making a film and by making Iran's image look savage," Ahmadinejad said, without naming the movie or specifically pointing a finger at the "they." The film is not currently being shown in Iran -- nor is it likely to be -- but pirated DVDs of the movie are presumably widely available there.

You're f'n kidding me. I haven't seen the film, but I claim both balderdash AND shenanigans here. Talk about seeing what you wanna see.

In other news, the Doll Collector's Society has called for a boycott of Dead Silence, and pretty much every self respecting biker gang around the world are gearing up to steal and burn all the prints of Wild Hogs. Those are some people with real tangible beefs. Cram it up your cramhole, Mahmoud.

Haiku: Very Special Employment Edition!

Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh
Blech, um, er, seriously
what the hell moron

Maybe you're being a little Lax

So, lacrosse. Fastest sport on two feet.

Start watching it.

I'm being selfish, though. If it gets popular, they'll make a video game for it. They should already, but what do I know. Oh yeah, everything. Kind of like Jack Black's character in "Heat Vision and Jack." Which about three people saw, and probably none of the people that regularly read this. So that was a fairly esoteric reference to make, but I'm okay with that.

Back on track, though, I was never much of a lacrosse person until college. And I grew up in Maryland, which has been pushing hard for awhile to have the state sport changed to lacrosse (from jousting...a concession was made to make lax the team sport of the state, but how stupid is that? You only see jousting at the Renn Fest and Medieval Times, and that's fixed). But once I got here, I really grew to appreciate the game. It really is the fastest sport on two feet.

For those of you readers who are really lost at this point, lacrosse is a team sport, with origins in Native American life. Players carry sticks, or crosses, which have a net in the top (with pocket sizes that are strictly regulated), and the ball is a very hard ball a little smaller than a tennis ball. From there, the rules are kind of like soccer and hockey. Except the ball is played from crosse to crosse, not played along the ground. If you've ever seen the movie American Pie, that's the sport that Oz and Stiffler play. It's huge on the East Coast of the US, most notably Maryland through New York (though it does go as far down as Florida, but you'll find more youth and secondary school teams in the primary area). It has caught on in the Denver area, too. It's the national summer sport of Canada, and I know for a fact that there are youth leagues around the world because I worked the Under 18 World Lacrosse Tournament 3 years ago. And most of the country probably knows lacrosse as the sport those kids at Duke played, the ones who were accused of raping a stripper last year.

Admittedly, it's hard to follow at first. That ball zips around quickly. But once you get the hang of it, it's a great fast moving game that takes a lot of athleticism. Can you run the length of a lacrosse field (depending on men's or women's, indoor or outdoor, the field varies) while "cradling" a ball in your pocket (an action that requires turning the stick back and forth with a wrist motion in order to keep the ball in the pocket of the net) while defenders slap their sticks against yours, most of the time hitting more of you than the stick? I know I can't.

Give it a chance.

Haiku, Bad Adsense, BAD! Edition.

What the? ANN COULTER?!?!
get that bitch off my AdSense
sell crazy elsewhere

Miss Complains-a-lot. A LOT.

So yesterday, I managed to cram an impressive number of errands in to the time between 9 am and 11 am, before I had to motor up to work at 12. One of these tasks was getting the truck over to the emissions testing facility for that lovely ritual that takes place every two years around here.

The car in front of me was piloted by an emo girl. What's an emo girl? Well imagine this, but female, and add oh so trendy horn rim glasses.


That's an emo girl. We got off on the wrong foot immediately, when she exited her vehicle and was mooning me. I probably would have had much props for her had this been on purpose. But alas, no, she was just a victim of poor fashion sense. Or rather, fashion sense was a victim of this girl. So, as I averted my eyes (and I did, too, I even put a hand over them. It really wasn't an attractive sight) and thought to myself (aloud, even) "pull up your damn pants" I figured that was the last this girl would inflict on me.

Oh, boy oh boy was I in for a TREAT! And not a good treat, like a steak and a BJ on a day other than steak and a BJ day (a statement I'm sure to get in hot water for, but I think it's a funny concept), like socks for Christmas when you're 5 years old and just wanted OPTIMUS PRIME THANKS FOR NOTHING MOM!...whoops, sorry, a little of that repressed youth rage just escaped.

Inside the little corral booth where they throw you while they put your car through the oh-so-rigorous test of throttling it up and down in order to see if it emits emissions (woo!) she managed to invoke my ire quite a number of times. She narrowly escaped a verbal smack down from yours truly, but only barely. I'm talking my teeth being shaved down a millimeter from grinding them so damn hard.

For starters, she was bitching about only having a quarter tank of gas when she got there. Earth to dumb girl: don't come to a testing facility in which they actively run your vehicle if you think you're low on gas. A trained monkey could figure that one out. Then, she proceeded to ramble on about how she would bill the government for her gas. That one almost got the taste slapped out of her mouth for her. Mainly because she's one of those "fear the government" types, yet, she can't see that the very act of emissions testing and regulation is one of those things the government GOT RIGHT. Dumbass.

Have I mentioned she still hasn't pulled her pants up? She's pulled her shirt and requisite hoodie down, but there's still way too much pants down action going on.

From there it was mainly bitching and moaning about how long it was taking. Well, guess what, sugar? If the sensors pick up emissions during the first pass through the cycle, you have to do the whoooole test to see just how much your car is killing us softly with its smog (that was a glorious pun, and I want kudos, damn it). Not the nice workers fault your car with the trendy bumper stickers didn't fast pass.

Shortly thereafter, which was good for both my teeth and her mortality rate, her car was done and she huffed out of there (she even slammed the door, good for her! You show that inanimate object what for!) and off she went, off to Starbucks to overpay for some coffee concoction and blog about what an inconvenience it is to have to have your emissions tested (I realize the irony inherent here, and if you point it out, may your god of choice help you. :D).

Me? My truck fast passed and I was out of there 5 minutes later. Without me, it's simply aweso.

Haiku about a Haiku (technology edition!)

Thanks go to my cousin for sending me this.

Watch out citizens
Sarcastic haiku errors
Closer to SkyNet.

Did the word "illegal" change meaning when I wasn't looking?

Sorry about the hiatus, everyone. Mild writer's block.

So, there's some legislation due up in Maryland coming up. Check out the story here. One of them is a bill that would allow illegal immigrants to have in-state tuition for Maryland universities and colleges.

Huh?

How do they get accepted at uni's and colleges in the first place? Illegal! It's right there in the bloody name!

Don't get me wrong. I welcome immigrants. Come one, come all, enjoy the (relative) freedom and opportunities we can provide that enticed you here in the first place. But for the love of Pete and Pete, do it legally, go through the channels! I'm usually pretty liberal, but this one seems like a no-brainer to me. I can't blame the illegal immigrants, though, they're just greasing the system and I've got a bit of respect for that. Now, the system? Gotta do something about that.

We've got to stop treating illegal immigrants as if they're not there, or worse, as this legislation is moving towards, as if they're a slighted group of citizens. That's the entire problem. They aren't citizens. Not yet. They've greased the system. If they want the rights inherent to being a fully fledged citizen, or even a recognized immigrant, then take the steps to become one. Please.

It almost pains me to be that right-wing, but I can't help it. I have problems with the fact that an entire group of people get away with a wink wink nudge nudge for doing something illegal. Either make it legal, or do something about it, is all I ask.

It's always a conspiracy...

Who has seen Loose Change? The "documentary" detailing the "truth" about 9/11? I'm widely known to pretty much hate that piece of garbage (pieces, actually). If you even have an iota of faith in it, you should do some research, and even more so, check out screwloosechange.blogspot.com.

Anyway, I stumbled upon this the other day and had to share it with you. Caution, prior knowledge of Star Wars kind of helps.

And if you didn't already get the satire, this picture, which makes me laugh everytime I look at it, really drives the point home.

(sorry, for some reason I can't get the picture up. I'll try again later, but for now he's a link)

http://www.websurdity.com/images/thepetbantha.jpg

So yesterday's post got me thinking...

There are little signs all over my workshop area at work. They've been there longer than any of us that are currently are on the job. So none of us really know what they mean, these signs. Various little sayings or observations, most of them rather esoteric. "Tina Turnover" which hangs upside down. The rules for taking care of Mogwai's (No bright lights, etc) And then there are these two.

I get the bugs scatter. Makes sense in our line of work. We do a lot of work in the dark. What happens when the lights come on?

But the other one has always made me wonder...where in the hell did that come from? I'm a reasonable mom, get off MY CASE (Exclamation point implied). First off, mom? We aren't exclusively male, however, most of the females that are in our little rag tag group of misfits are students. Even in the distant past we can't put together any female holding a professionals job (some of our supervisors have been around long enough to remember).

So where'd it come from? Was it a code phrase for something else? We use those a lot since we're probably the least PC lot on the entire staff of the university, and instead of simply shutting up, we'd much rather come up with different ways of saying un-PC things. We host the Special Olympics, and that's a hotbed for code phrases. If it was one of our code phrases, what the heck were they trying to convey?

The odds on favorite though was that it was overheard somewhere on the job. And then summarily mocked again and again to the point where it was immortalized on this makeshift placard (not unlike our "quote wall" in our main office across campus). So considering that this is the most likely source, I can't help but wonder about the circumstances that someone uttered this very aggressive group of words. What event was this at? Odds are a commencement, or perhaps an athletic event. Why were they close enough to our little hidey holes that we heard them? What actually happened.

The sad thing is that I'll never, ever know. And I see that sign every day I'm at work. Such is my life of every day mysteries that can never be solved. Even Sherlock Holmes would be flustered. He'd look at Watson and he'd say "Let's get the heck out of Dodge."

Yeah, I mixed cultures. I do that.

Haiku with the Hai and the ku and the putting it all together...

Cliff/Claire Huxtable
Least busy power couple?
They were always home






I think this bears more than just a haiku treatment. Seriously, she was a lawyer. He was an obstetrician. And they were presumably good ones because they put at least two kids through college, and tried to put a third (again, at the least) through. Not to mention their very nice town home in what I thought might the Upper East Side, but upon further research turns out to be Brooklyn. A nice place nonethless. But they were aaallways home, weren't they? Not to mention I think I remember maybe TWICE in the entire run of The Cosby Show that Cliff was called away to do an emergency delivery. Like babies are born on his schedule or something. And it was mentioned quite often that Claire's law firm was quite prestigious.

They were seriously the least busy power couple in entertainment history. It made for good television that opened a lot of doors, but sometimes the general conceit that they ask us to suspend our disbelief for is ca-ray-zee.

John, call me, Bob...

Four little words. I see them almost every day. Middle urinal, Towson Center arena mens locker room bathroom.

Now, I'm normally quite used to the graffiti on the walls of the bathroom. However, I'm used to incredibly inappropriate sexual suggestions or propositions.

I'm not, however, used to seeing a plea.

John, call me, Bob


Now, I've seen it for the better part of three years. And a myriad of different scenarios have passed through my brain. I've thought about this. Why did Bob need John to call him? And why did he have to go the "scrawl above the urinal" route, and not a more straight forward approach? Did Bob wrong John somehow? Was it a joke that only Bob and John would understand? Why did Bob write it so gosh darn small?

I've resigned myself to the fact that I'll never know. Who knows how long it was there before I started using that bathroom on a semi-regular basis, let alone the once a day at least basis that I use it now. John and Bob may no longer be anywhere near Towson University.

But their legacy will remain, as long as that scrawl remains, forever confusing suckers like me who use the center urinal in the men's locker room bathroom in the Towson Center.

Though that scenario has occurred to me as well. That it was only done to make some idiot (HI!) wonder about it needlessly. If that's truly the case, I can only tip my cap to the prankster. Bravo good sir. Bravo.

A Haiku sure to offend somebody!

Savior Jesus Christ
Wasn't he the first zombie?
Think about it some.

Hike! Ooooo?

CSI? Oh yeah
I love me some Gil Grissom
In a non-gay way

And I'm back!

Site suffered from some down time there, guess Blogger was having some technical difficulties. That was a scary couple of hours, wasn't it gang?

So, here's what I want to talk about. You know what the most frustrating part about working with technology? The fact that the vast majority of the general public is what I like to refer to as "technologically retarded." Present company is most likely excluded, I figure if you can figure out how to make a blog you've got a leg up on some of these chuckleheads I deal with on regular basis.

To start out, the microphone. It's not magic wand. There are limitations to what it catches (especially for simple models like this industry standard Shure SM58). You can't hold it down by your waist without severely ticking off your sound guy. See, when you do this, we have to turn up the gain, which in layman's terms means how much signal the microphone is receiving gets entered in to the system. A "hot mic" is one with high gain. The problem with this is that it picks up everything at this point. Including the sound emanating from the system itself creating a feedback loop. Feedback loops: bad. Make your ears bleed. But yet, people still do it. Which is just flat out weird, since when do you ever see anybody in the entertainment industry ever hold a microphone that low (Bob Barker's doesn't count, since it's such a long neck, its still being aimed right under his mouth)?

There's also CD players. Most of us own our own CD players, right? Pretty simple. You put the CD in, you cue (or queue, whatever) it up if you're looking to play a specific track/song, and you press play. We use CD players in the industry too. But every time a situation comes up where a "civilian" (for lack of a better term) wants to use our CD players, they lock up. Why? Because it's part of a sound rack with other elements you don't recognize? I can understand that to a degree, you don't want to mess with that other stuff. But what about the way you can't seem to figure out how to work the player? It's the same as yours at home. Same functions, the same symbols on the buttons for play, stop, fwd, rev, pause, etc. In fact, those button symbols have been around longer than CD players.

Video projectors. Ugh. It's a simple concept. It's projecting light. That means the darker the room, or the higher power (lumen) of the projectors light the better the picture will be. You can't have a fully lit room with a low lumen projector and expect to see your crappy lil' PowerPoint presentation. Not to mention that the light isn't harnessed from the Sun. It's a light bulb. They burn out. Especially if you leave your projector on for three hours before the actual presentation, they'll burn out way faster that way.

Sometimes I really feel like that lame SNL skit about the IT guy. MOOOOVE! Except I don't deal with computers.

However, I can't complain too much, because if everyone figures out just how easy this stuff really is, I'd be out of a job. :D

And you are...?

What's a worse feeling then seeing someone that you know damn well you know, but not being able to put a name to the face? How crappy does that make you feel? Or even worse, when you don't recognize somebody you really should, because they've really changed or something?

What a horrible situation. You gotta play it off like you know, and hope they don't catch on to the ruse. Or else you look like a big colossal asshole. You end up walking this social tightrope until the name either comes to you like a bolt of lightning, or somebody else drops the name. Of course, then you have to keep the poker face in the hopes they didn't notice your "Oh RIGHT!" look on your face.

Happened to me today. I think I did okay. It sure could have been worse. Phew.

Wait, I DO have something to talk about!

John Popper!

Nut Job!

Did anybody else catch this? Here's the story.

Did someone give him the runaround? Did the hook bring him back? Other bad song references?

Seriously...did he see Red Dawn one too many times and figure he might as well be prepared? I'm not sure if this is sad or shocking, to tell you the truth.

And that's all I got to say about that.

A crappy haiku about nothing!

Nothing on my mind
Sorry for no post today
I will try harder

Gone down da oshun, hun.

So, for those that know me, or look closely at my profile, I come from Glen Burnie, Maryland, which is also known as "Where the mob went years ago when they were driven from Baltimore." You spit in Baltimore, and if the wind is blowing south it could end up in Glen Burnie. That's just for geographical reference. I'm second generation (at least) Baltimorean (hey, I was born there, it counts) and I have a weird affinity for my home. Though, if you live here, it's not that weird, it's actually quite common. It's that "you can't say anything about us, but I can say anything I damn well please" mentality. That subject title is Balmerese for "Going down the ocean, person of acquaintance." And if you've never heard a Balmer accent, it's just not the same. It's Northern inflection with Southern drawl. Maryland really IS the border state, just listen to us talk.

Check out this link for a more in depth look at how dumb we talk. I'd like to say I don't fall in to this, however, I do. Especially when tired. I don't ever call the sink "the zink" like my father always did, but I do slip in to the dialect from time to time. Most notably I refer to a local road route as "Route a-hundred" or "hundred" instead of "one hundred." That really rankles Jessie's nerves, too.

But that's not what this is about. I wanted to talk to you about two authors who really capture Baltimore. If you like reading, I want you guys to check them out sometime.

They both write mysteries, though one is more whimsical (though not completely) and the other is much more suspense based. Between the two of them they manage to capture everything I love about Baltimore. Both write about detectives. Both quite accidental detectives, though one remains an accidental detective while the other embraces the profession once involved.

First up is Tim Cockey. He's the more whimsical of the two, and his detective is the completely accidental one. Hitchcock Sewell, undertaker. Baltimores most eligible undertaker, but an undertaker. Hence the gimmicky titles, including the first book "The Hearse You Rode In On" and "Hearst Case Scenerio." His last book, "Backstabber" broke this trend (thankfully, ask Sue Grafton, James Patterson, or Janet Evanovich how fun it is to be stuck with a naming convention), but that doesn't mean the gimmick detracts from the books. Cockey's books are fun. They capture that whimsical side of Baltimore, that side that isn't quite John Waters depraved, but still kind of fringe. And they aren't complete gimmie gimmie mysteries, either. Give him a chance if that's your cup of tea. Or just because I said so.

Second up is Laura Lippman. Her detective is former newspaper writer Tess Monaghan. She comes dangerously close to the stereotypical feisty female lead, but Lippman straddles that line fairly well through quite a few books now. Her outlook on the city is much, much bleaker. "Homicide: Life on the Streets" is optimistic, let's just say that. I've actually had to put one of her books down because of the subject material. Don't get me wrong, it was an excellent book, but there was simply one point where I went "wow...okay, gotta take a break." The first book is "Baltimore Blues." Again, pick it up, if anything just because I said so.

Some links for you.

Tim Cockey
Laura Lippman

Your dose of "OMG CUTE!" for the evening.

Bask in it!

BASK IN IT!

Okay, everyone altogether now...


Awwwwwwwwww!


Sorry it's so blurry, but the little bugger knows what a camera is, but hasn't figured out that a cellphone can take his picture. And if you want to get him all half zonked out, you have to be sneaky. Or else he perks up and gets in your face. He's a ham.

First there's 5 syllables, then 7, then 5 again.

Ha! Take that Scooter
Bam! Obstruction of Justice
Your name is stupid.

So, I wanted a new personal image...

My "profile image" of me is nearly 8 years old. Sure, it captures the kind of spirit I was going for, but it's nearly 8 years old. I hadn't even started courses at the university from which I would earn my degree (and end up working), not had I even met my wife. So I decided an update was in order, to go along with the overall sprucing up of this place I want to do (more on that later).

But I couldn't find anything recent that I really liked. For one, I don't like having my image completely available to any yahoo. The Interwebsathon is cruel. Two, I'm dieting for a reason. Three, a lot of my recent pictures were taken at work, so not very flattering.

In the end, I went with a wedding picture. Though, I edited it heavily. I liked the particular effect I gave to it because it looks like I'm trapped in carbonite (damn you, Lando Calrissian! You better help rescue me in about a year, but I end up saving YOUR life with a witty quip that ends up getting edited to a benign line nearly 20 years later). So here you go, my new profile image:





As far as sprucing this place up goes, any suggestions from the peanut gallery? I really want a sidebar/main/sidebar look, but I can't get the template hack edits worked out right. Kind of frustrating. But any thing else you guys might think would work well for me? Suggestions welcome.

Haaaaaaaaaaikuuuuuuuuu!

Finally House back
two hour Idol is no more
bring on the nasty

Today's Lesson in Grammar

Hello class. Welcome to your lesson in grammar for today. You all look well. Except for you, little Billy, you look a little pale.

Anyway, this is an ellipses: ...

I'll do that again. ...

See that? Three periods. Three periods, and only three periods. No more, no less. Three is the number of the periods, and the number of the periods is three. You shouldn't use two periods, unless directly using a third. Five periods is right out.

So please, for the love of Webster, use three periods. And use it in the proper context. It's used to denote a longer than usual pause. If it were a regular pause, a comma would suffice. If it's not for a pause at all, you've used it wrong, don't do that. It's not just netiquette, it's proper grammar.

Class dismissed. Billy, you should go to the nurse's office.

I'm Melting, I'm Melting (whataworldwhataworld...)

Need to lose weight?

Do WeightWatchers.

Forget Atkins. Screw South Beach. Tell OptiFast to stick it where the sun don't shine.

Because WeightWatchers is where it's at (I got two turntables and a microphone). Fo' real.

I've lost about 18 pounds in about a month. Take that in. 18 pounds. About a month. And I didn't have to lose the carbs, or overload the carbs, or whatever. All WW does, if you use the flex plan, is teach you how to portion correctly for your size. You don't have to stop eating stuff you love, you just have to do it smartly. And in moderation. It's awesome. Let me say it again: 18 pounds in about a month. I haven't even started my workout regimen yet. Just you all wait till that happens.

Don't let the "notion" that it's for women stop you if you're male. That's BS. Yeah, maybe it still seems like it's geared towards women, but maybe thats because they're smarter than we are and they realize IT FREAKIN' WORKS! So, if you need to lose weight, find your local WeightWatchers, commit to it, and watch that weight FLY THE HELL OFF. :D

Note: I realize my results aren't typical. But I also realize that the system works for a reason and it's probably the simplest and most logical weight loss plan for pretty much everyone if they have even the slightest bit of willpower.


In other news, I ranked again in David McMahon's Blogs of the Week. (Check it out here http://david-mcmahon.blogspot.com/search/label/Aussiejourno%27s%20Weekly%20Blog%20Awards ) I dropped to 14, though. I gotta step it back up. Maybe more humorous Elmo stories. Like how I came home today to find he had taken the top layer of garbage out of the trash, and gotten in to the pantry and eaten an entire box of Jessie's cookies. Ugh. He's lucky he's cute.

Haiku, All Political Like

Mission accomplished?
That was how long ago now?
We're never leaving

Haiku, Special "Look what I saw today!" Edition

What is this? Car art?
Am I impressed or frightened?
Make up your own mind



Sorry for the image quality. I took it from my camera phone...from my truck. Hence the dashboard and wiper blade in the shot.

Honk If You're a D*ckhead.

So, this past August I was in Jamaica, to get married. Which, by the way, I highly recommend to those who don't have a need or desire to have a huge wedding with all kinds of people you don't know showing up and such. You're already there for a honeymoon, and the Caribbean is simply awesome.

Anyway, I learned something down there, one of those things you don't learn about a country until you get there. They honk their horns a lot. But, it's not rude, not in the slightest bit how we use our horns in the US. It's not to say "MOVE!" or "GET OUT OF THE WAY!" or "SCREW YOU!" They use their horn to say hi, or to say excuse me as they move around a slower moving vehicle. Interesting study in the overall attitudes of the two cultures simply by how we honk our horns.

I bring this up because this afternoon as I was going to the grocery store with my wife, I was at a red light coming out of our neighborhood. We were the third car in line at the light, and when the light turned green, the second car blared his horn at the first car. Right after it turned green. Like, a second, tops. Who does this? Do you? Because if you do, stand still so I can thwap you upside your dumb ass head. How much of a hurry to you have to be in to honk your horn at somebody for not flooring it the second a light turns green? And it's not even a ridiculously short light, either, there's time. There is literally no excuse for that kind of behavior, you're a dick head if you do it. Plain and simple So don't do it. I don't want to have to hurt you. Okay? Okay.

Haiku, NFL edition

Farewell Jake the Snake
Would Tampa Bay be that bad?
Alas, Neckbeard gone

Don't Quit Your Day Job

When was it exactly when crossing guards became traffic cops? I ask because as I ran out on a short errand today, I was stopped by a crossing guard by the elementary school which is only a few hundred yards from my house. I've got no qualms with a crossing guard holding up traffic so that the kids can cross the street, that's a very important safety job they perform.

However, when the crossing guard is merely directing the auto traffic out of the parking lot? That's annoying as hell. These are all adults, they know how to leave a parking lot. There's no reason to completely hold up traffic in all directions so that they can all leave en masse. Especially for the 20 or so vehicles leaving. You'd be better served directing traffic out of a high school where there are up to 500 vehicles all trying to get out at the same time.

What was even more frustrating is that the turn I was taking was, by large, not the direction that most of the vehicles were going. I was making a right turn, and the majority of the cars were going straight. See why I have a problem here? The crossing guard could have noticed that as well and waved me through real fast, but no, I sat there for five (FIVE!) minutes as she waved out every last vehicle.

So, really, when did crossing guards become traffic cops? I really want to know.

Here it is, your moment of Zen

Thought I'd forgotten?
Preposterous. I didn't.
See? Here's the haiku.

Allow me to be serious for a moment.

Okay, there's a certain phrase that's used to say someone, or some people, are blindly believing what they are told without independent thought. "Drinking the Kool-Aid."

If you use it, stop. Seriously. Especially if you know what it references. Double shame on you if you do.

For those that don't know, it references the Jonestown massacre of 1978. A cult, led by a completely screwy dude named Jim Jones, committed mass suicide. Not all of them died, but enough did. How'd they do it? You guessed it...poisoned Kool-Aid. Actually, it was Flavor Aid, but whatever.

For starters, referencing this heinous occurrence with generally benign trust and faithfulness is an over-analogy. You're fighting a grease fire with a fire-copter drop. Over kill. Why not compare your slightly overbearing boss to Hitler, while you're at it?

Next, it's incredibly insulting to whoever you say it too. Especially if you know the origins.

Thirdly, how disrespectful is it to diminish what happened down there by watering down the meaning? Yes, a good number of those people willingly drank the poison, but others were so damn intimidated by the whole thing (not to mention they had "practiced" the ritual many times with no ill consequences, setting up false trust) that they basically had no choice. There's really no way getting around it, using the phrase is just wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

So please stop using it. I was nice enough to say please, you can be nice enough to not use the phrase. Unless of course, the situation is dire and possibly fatal.

Here's a link for those that want more info.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonestown