Vice Versa

I took the van down to a body shop today to get a second, real estimate on the repairs from the accident (that was almost two months ago now. Holy Jesus, have I made it clear how much I DESPISE American Family Insurance??), and wound up driving home a different vehicle. Yup. TL;DR version - we are currently driving a rental car - a compact Nissan Versa, that doesn't fit all 6 of us, and barely fits 5. Hopefully we'll have the van back on Monday.

Now, for the boring details:

I woke up - grudginly - at 7:30, and drove down to the body shop. When I got there, I found out that I had to come back home to get the original estimate paperwork so that they could work from there.
So, after driving back home, locating the paperwork, stopping to put some gas in the van, and then driving back to the body shop, the nice estimator lady took a quick look at the van's damage. She jotted down a few notes, and then  we returned to her computer where she input the info, only to tell me that we were quite possibly looking at a "total loss" factor at this point. But, she said, that they wouldn't TRULY be able to tell without getting the hood off, and looking at the radiator frame.

But, she said that American Family would put me up in a rental car until that could be determined, and basically, I didn't have a lot of other choice, because the hood was gonna have to come off at SOME point, and once it got opened, it might not be close-able again, which would render the van undriveable.
I mentioned to her at this point that American Family was a bunch of douchebag mother fuckers. (I may have used kinder words) and that they were attempting to screw us over by not giving us 100% of the estimate because of Stephanie's statement to them regarding how the accident went down. (They're saying they'll pay 80%, because Steph "didn't look to see if she could see him backing up". Um. Yeah. Why would anyone look that way? You aren't going to be expecting traffic coming down the WRONG DIRECTION.)

Anyway.

She suggested that we call our Insurance company, (which we haven't done yet because we only have liability coverage, so it's not like they're going to pony up the other 20% that AmFam won't pay...but maybe they would?  I dont' know. I'm still waiting to see what happens come Monday, but I might call Progressive just to see what, if anything, can be done.) because they might be "able to go after American Family".  But then she put in the notes that the coverage of the repairs at this point were 80/20, with a note that that might change.

She then told me that on Monday they would open the hood and find out the extent of the rest of the damage inside, and they'd also call the American Family estimate dude, and get his take on the matter.

In the meantime, I was sent down the hall to the rental car company, where I got our way small compact car that has the tiniest cutest little "beep" when the alarm is set. And it has about 40 different blind spots. But, it accelerates super quickly, and has an AC that works on all 4 settings, and has windows that work, and the doors are all shut according to the sensors, and it has working turn signals, and the cd player ejects cds on the first push of the eject button rather than the 2nd or 3rd... so, it's got all those points over the van.

We'll have to see, come Monday, what the latest development will be with the van and AmFam and what they're going to pay.

numerology is a farce

right?

except that earlier today I said "Man, today is a magnet for shitstorms, ain't it?" (In reference to the fact that today is the anniversary of the Columbine shootings, the Oklahoma City bombing* and the Waco disaster*, and Hitler's birthday.

*These two events actually took place on April 19th, which proves...something.

The 20th of April, 2012 has been a pretty typical day, all in all. But the past few minutes I've been grumpy as hell, and it's prob....it IS due to my own choosing...I'm just having a difficult time focusing on things that are good.

 Maybe it's fate. Maybe it's the date. Maybe it's because of something I ate.

blaaaaaaaaank

I really have been sitting here for over 20 minutes now, attempting to come up with something - anything - worth reading. So frustrating!

Of course, I haven't been *just* sitting here, I've also been playing on Jelli, listening to tunes, and skimming wikipedia pages.

None of which, of course, is helping me in blogging.  Eh. Sometimes you just have to know when to quit. And now, I believe is one of those times. I'm just gonna finish up this sentence, hit "publish" and go downstairs and watch The Office.

played hooky

more or less how today went down:

445a - woke up, fed the cats, called in to work
5a - went back to sleep
7a- woke back up, called work again, in an effort to find out how much work I'd be missing out on.
730a - received a phone call from American Family Insurance
830a - called Jim Marsh Chevrolet, determined we'd take the van down there on Saturday for them to take a (second) look at the damage and give us an estimate. (Yesterday we discovered that the hood does not open. Which means that the cost for repairing it is most likely going to be more than the original estimate was)
10a- left to go to Harper's final acting class
1030a - waited, while Harper rehearsed for the play she'd be participating in.
12p - watched Harper's play. She did great!! I was very proud of her, and believe that acting is really good for her. It was great to see her improv skills at work (her deciding to use the spray bottle was pretty funny), and I'm just glad taht I decided to take the day off in order to see her do this.
1245p - drove to DQ for lunch. Had KFC instead. The Colonel was there!!
1:10p - had desert at DQ
1:30p - drove to a park, where the kids and I played. Harper did her maniac-chase thing that frightens me into running away.
2..something pm - headed home. Harper found a switchblade at the park on the way out.
330p - left to go to Half-Cat* Lawyers in order to sign the papers to finalize the bankruptcy
4p - signed lots of papers
430p - left Half-Cats, grabbed some complimentary cookies (laced with something??)
5p- hyper good mood - cookies influence, perhaps?
545p - coin battle with Harper. until dinner time.
6p - went to get Domino's pizza for dinner
7p - ate, and then watched Saren perform in some sort of Starcraft tournament that was streaming online. She won one round, whihc earned her 3 tickets for the raffle at the end that would get her a free pizza (I think the drawing/raffle is this Friday??). Awesome.
...and that was pretty much it.
Sadly, no zombie apocalypse, and it wasn't as exciting as Ferris Bueller's day, but overall, absolutely a good day, and I'm 100% glad I called in.

*not the real name of the law firm

Playing Hooky

If Hollywood is reading, feel free to steal this idea:

"Ferris Bueller's Day Off", for adults.

Have a nearly 40-something year old grown up decide to skip work (I'm thinking Ben Stiller [who is probably nearer to 50, but whatever or maybe Steve Carell, but that's probably because we've been watching a lot of The Office lately] but I guess Hollywood would probably go with like Seth Rogen or something.)
 And perhaps he decides to play hooky with his buddy(ies) (Ed Helms/that one guy that is always with Seth Rogen in his films/some SNL second-tier actor looking for his next break).
Or perhaps he has a healthy relationship with his teenaged son/daughter (God, I don't even know. Chloe Moretz would be awesome, because she is made of win. But I'm so out of touch with young actors/actresses, that I don't even know who they should go with) and decides he's going to have them skip school as well.

Anyway. Everyone is enjoying the day off (while having to, of course, avoid being found out by the boss/principal [is Edward Rooney still alive?]) and then it turns out that the freaking zombie apocalypse is happening.

In my mind, there is a line earlier in the film wherein someone says something along the lines of "Skipping work for one day isn't going to be the end of the world."

Or, perhaps slight variation - Grownup Ferris (or whatever his name would be - this wouldn't be a sequel to FBDO, after all, just a film made in the same vein) skips work, along with at least one or two friends, while trying to keep it a secret from the boss and kids. AND THEN the zombie apocalypse happens, and they have to get their kid out of school... and maybe nobody believes them about the ZA... I don't know.

Anyway. "Playing Hooky" would be the title, and while it would probably suck, I just have to say that I would watch the hell out of any movie that was "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" meets "Night of the Living Dead".

what I'd really like dad is to borrow the car keys, see you later, can i have them please

Steph cut Silas's hair today!! He looks so much older now.
When I came home from work, he ran up to the door to greet me, with his hands over his ears, hiding the majority of his haircut, and then said, in that impish way of his, "Look at me! I'm a boy!"
Irina also got her hair shortened (she & Si really are peas in a pod), so I'll have to see if Stephanie has pictures for me to post later. (She did put some up on her facebook account, apparently, so if you're into that, there ya have it.)

It's crazy how quickly the children are growing up. Time really does go at a faster pace as you get older (or at least has the appearance of doing so) but that doesn't mean I like it. One month from now, Silas will be turning 3, which is just insane. How can three whole years have passed since he arrived in the world already??

scrambled

just a random bunch of thoughts.

I'm getting ready to cook the first  barbecue of the year. Mmm. Cheeseburgers and hotdogs.

American Family Insurance (ha! I originally typed "Unsurance") is irritating as all hell. Just pay us the damn money that we're owed. >: (

Work is cruddy, but a coworker I like is having an even rougher time over hte past few days. I hate that that place can make people cry.

Saw Apollo 18 yesterday, but I can't seem to generate enough of a response to make a haiku review of it. It looked good (except when it didn't stick to it's '1970s camera' gimmick, which was irritating) but the plot was pretty desolate (just like the moon!) and there weren't a lot of scares, for a supposed 'horror' movie. Meh.

We let our butterflies go yesterday. (oh, yeah, for those [nonexistent?] people who read my blog, but not my wife's, we had ordered some caterpillars a few weeks back.)

The month is now officially over half way over, and I still haven't written any [new] fiction, which was the goal of this 'blog every day' exercise. Hmm.

Okay. time to cook dinner.

We're gonna need a bigger boat.

It was 100 years ago that nature pointed out the folly of man thru the use of an iceberg and a giant passenger liner. Crazy!

I think it would be interesting to visit an alternate universe wherein the Titanic did NOT sink. How different would things be, I wonder? Obviously there would be no Titanic movie from 1997. (Or Titanic 2, from 2010 -which is set on TODAY'S DATE!!) And the phrase, "rearranging the deckchairs on the Titanic" would not exist. (Also, this blog post wouldn't exist.) And of course, the thousands of people who did perish that night would have survived, and who knows what type of butterfly effects they would have... But it would still be interesting to compare our two universes.

I'd also be greatly interested in reading a story (or watching a [most likely pretty bad] movie) wherein there were werewolves onboard the Titanic. (and thus, the sinking of the ship was a good thing [relatively speaking])
[edit - oh, cool! Someone WROTE THIS!! There's a book called "Fateful" by Claudia Grey that is about this very thing. I *may* have to check it out]

Or, perhaps, I'd like to watch the Titanic super 3d remake...

angry kittens, grumpy chinchillas, and loser accomplishments

According to the stats that google has provided, "angry kitten attacks", "grumpy chinchilla", and "accomplishments are for losers" are among the top keyword phrases that have led to my blog.

The internet is a strange and wonderful thing.

My apologies (to my three readers - and anyone searching for grumpy chinchillas) for the lackluster blog entry today. It's late, and I'm feeling rather uninspired to write. Will attempt to write sooner tomorrow.

true

"Hey there," said the as-yet-undefined character in her (his?) as-yet-undefined voice. "Wanna write about my adventure, parentheses s?"

"Are you speaking to me?" I asked in response.

"That's entirely up to you," the character replied. "But I suppose, yes, I am. So... do you?"

I considered. "Well," I said, "Maybe. I mean, I haven't even defined YOU yet, let alone what type of adventure, parentheses s, you would have that I'd be writing about."

The character (whom, I'm informed, would really like a name....and a gender) said, "Again, that would be up to you, ultimately. But, you know, we could find out together. Just start writing about my adventure -singular to start with - and see where it takes us."

That sounded sorta reasonable. So of course I had reservations. "Let me ask you this, character, why would you want ME to write about you? Don't you know the odds are that I will end up abandoning you mid-journey (or, even one-fourth-journey)? And your dialogue is going to be ... sub-par, at best."

"Witty response," the character wittily responded.

"I don't exactly know what to say to that." I said.  "But here's the thing. I truly don't know WHAT to do with you. Lately, as you are well aware, I have been having an extremely difficult time getting any writing done."

"No problem," was the comeback from the fictional individual, "you've already started, so we're on our way."

I looked it over and said, "Nicely done, but it hardly counts as an adventure - or a story, even."

"No, but it counts as a blog entry, doesn't it?"

Holy MaJelli

On June 30th, 2011, on my drive home, I had hit scan on the radio, like I've been known to do,  and stopped when the dial hit 94.5 and was playing some alternative song that I liked. I don't remember what it was. But 94.5 wasn't something that typically picked up anything, so to hear something on that frequency warranted a pause and listen.

As I listened, the station identified itself as "the new Jelli - 100% user controlled radio". The next song that came on was another that I liked, so I opted to continue to listen.
After the song, an announcement informed me that all the songs were picked by the listeners. ORLY? That could be interesting, I thought. (Yes, I actually think "ORLY?" on occasion. I'm odd.)

But then, the next song was introduced as having been 'rocketed' by "Jelli user, El Guapo Ugly Face". Ha ha!! This station was getting better all the time! And the "person" introducing the songs was an electronic robot voice. Think Stephen Hawking's voice modulator. Or the software used for EAS Weather alerts. No humans, just a machine stating the usernames of people who were picking songs from the website (jelli.com).

I was intrigued.

When the next song was introduced as having been chosen by "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee", I was absolutely smitten. (I also laughed out loud for a good three or four minutes.)

Long story short (too late!), I joined up on Jelli.com the very next day (I would have done it that night, but didn't go online for whatever reason) and have been participating  on the site ever since.

Jelli radio is ...interesting. There are two stations here in Las Vegas that are now Jelli stations - 94.5, which plays "rock" (alternative and mainstream - whatever those terms even mean anymore), and 96.7, which plays top 40 remix... or something. I've listened to 96.7 a few times, but it's truly scary stuff. Dubstep and dance music that is way too repetitive way too repetitive way too repetitive way too repetitive.

And, yes, both stations playlists are (mostly) controlled by the people who frequent the website (or who use their smartphones to get the apps). It does give the sense of being able to control what songs play over the airwaves, which is a powerful sensation, even if it's slightly skewed. The songs played come from the catalog the station has available, so you're not gonna hear REALLY obscure odd things that aren't on other stations (except for when you do. heh.) And the way that songs are picked is thru a voting system, where all the listeners can provide a +1 or a -1 vote for any track. The higher score a song has, the more likely it is to get on the air. A song can get bumped to the top of the list by using a "powerup" they have called "rockets". But there are also powerups called "bombs", which reduce a song's vote total back to 0. (Bombing a rocketed song is a crappy thing to do, but that's one of the flaws in the jelli system. It promotes this type of behavior. More on that in a bit.)

In addition to voting a song up or down based on the # of votes, when a song is actually ON THE AIR, you can vote thumbs up ("Rocks") or thumbs down ("Sucks") and it will move a little meter up or down. If the meter gets completely filled with "rocks" votes, the person who rocketed that song will receive a bonus rocket in their arsenal - presumably as a reward for picking a song that everyone enjoys.
If, however, the meter gets completely filled with "sucks" votes - it will stop playing, instantly.
It doesn't happen much any more (there are way too many people who won't play along) but back when Jelli first started, I recall hearing one of my rockets ("Low" by Cracker) getting "sucked off the air". Midsong, it simply stopped playing, and the robot dj voice announced that the community had decided that that song sucked.

Despite that, Jelli continued to enchant me. I spent a lot of time voting songs up, and picking things to add to my "favorites", and adding people to "follow", and chatting with fellow 'jellis'. Enough, in fact, that after just a month on the site, I had obtained enough activity to be crowned "User of the Week", and earned an audio sigtone. Heh.

It's getting late, and I don't really have a point to this entry. Just wanted to mention Jelli on my blog. Which I've done. I should probably go to bed, but I did have some other things relating to Jelli I wanted to mention. While 94.5 is on the air, the real fun station(s) are the Internet Only stations. Also known as Jelli Green, Jelli Red, and Jelli Orange. (The colors don't really mean anything, near as I can tell) These three stations are "open genres", meaning they have EVERYTHING in them. It's not unusual to hear Seether, followed by Skrillex, followed by Debbie Deb. The color stations have some 6,800-ish pages of songs in them (each page has 20 songs on it, I think), and more stuff gets added all the time. The way that new songs are added is thru the Request Forums (or, if you're like me and have a pretty good relationship with one of the owners, you can send him PMs or emails directly...)

In fact, I dubbed today the Greatest Day In Jelli's History, because for MONTHS I have been wanting "Fish Heads" by Barnes and Barnes to get added to Jelli's catalog. And finally, today, it happened.

Sadly, the version that got added was not the version that I remember, but it was still a good song. (It appears that the version I know and love is not available ANYWHERE [except on the youtube video I'm putting at the end of this]. It's not on any CDs, and more importantly, it's not on Amazon.com's MP3 store [which is, as is my understanding, where Jelli gets their songs added from]. This is truly a crime against humanity, but, hey, we still have the 1:30 version, which is better than nothing.)

In conclusion, Jelli has a good number of flaws, but overall is super fun, and an interesting way to discover new music. I'd be happy to go on (and on and on) about it if there's any interest. Or, if you want, you should join. It's free, and I'm there all the time. Harper and Saren even made accounts as well. (Although I don't think Saren uses hers much.)

Anyway. Fish Heads:

Eat them up, Yummm!!

YCSTOT

This post should probably come with a warning. The amount of mindboggling dumbness could, actually, cause brain damage.

Consider that fair warning.

When I was in programming, I had to deal with the wonderful, censorship filled world of OBINs (Obscenity/Indecency) - basically swear words and nudity that hadn't been pre-filtered by the syndicators falls on the shoulders of the station's program director to catch and make sure it doesn't hit the air. I've  blogged about it before (you'll need to scroll down a bit if you want to read the original guidelines, I was in the midst of the 2005 word-a-thon back then...).

Anyway! Recently, the company revised the OBIN guidelines.
And... I... well, let me just post the update, and I'll add commentary after.

[...]After a recent talk with NBC Universal, several acronyms came under review. These acronyms have been popularized by text messaging and have entered mainstream vocabulary.
[...]please see our updated policy (attached) regarding them within programming and promotion, both audio and visually.

We prefer to stay away from all of the following, although we are OK with SNAFU since that has entered mainstream as a word. We are also OK with LMFAO when it refers to the band by that name. The following are deemed unacceptable:

BFD - big fucking deal
FUBAR - fucked up beyond all recognition
STFU  - shut the fuck up
OMFG - oh my fucking god
FML - fuck my life
DTF - down to fuck
MILF - mother I'd like to fuck and variations
WTF - what the fuck
MOFO - motherfucker
FTFW - for the fucking win (FTW is more common though - for the win)

Please share revised OBIN guidelines with appropriate staff.

...

Yeah.
They're acronyms.  Not the actual words. Letters standing in for the words.

Seriously??

But, SNAFU is okay, because people use that. (Do they? I mean, yeah, they do. But, I think I hear WTF or even FUBAR more often than I hear people use SNAFU) But, dudes. Come ON. If you're going to allow some of the acronyms, just allow them all.

However, the sentence that nearly threw me into cardiac arrest. "We are also OK with LMFAO when it refers to the band.." NO.
Nobody should EVER be okay with that "band". NO. BODY. It's just. NO.
It's a good thing I'm not in charge of this anymore, because, honestly, I wouldn't do it. I would not censor acronyms from television shows. Except, of course, for LMFAO. When referring to the band. So, honestly, they have it backwards. That's when we SHOULD censor it out. (Sorry. I have an (ir?)rational hatred of LAMEFO. Just typing they bands name causes me to cringe. So. Much. Hatred.)

The kicker on this update is that there are, at the very least, two instances where this will come back to bite them.
One of them is from 30 Rock - there's an episode that features a joke (throughout a large percentage of the show, if I recall) about "MILF Island" [a fictional reality television show]
Secondly, there's a joke in Modern Family where the parent is saying how he's so hip regarding online acronyms. He goes on to explain some of them: "LOL...laughing out loud, OMG...oh my god, WTF... why the face"
So, when that airs, are they going to remove that joke? Or just the WTF line? so. dumb.

But, then, I forgot that people are NUTS. (Never Underestimate Their Stupidity)

blast from the past

I wrote the following story back on Jan. 29th, 1999. Back when I was keeping a journal. In paper!
(I did do a little googling of writer's blockage, and also skimmed a book i picked up from the libe, which provided a few ideas, and I'm thinking about writing NEW stuff, and I will, but not today. Just because, ironically, I can't decide which idea to run with. Ha!)

ANYWAY.
This is, as said, from over 13 years ago. Mourn the passage of time folks. Mourn it!! Okay, starting ...NOW:

I'm reading How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy by Orson Scott Card. Card i a sci-fi/fantasy writer who ha won many awards and sold plenty of books. No, he hasn't personally gone door to door selling books to housewives and househusbands - I meant to say that a good deal of the books he has written have been bought by people who read.  Or by really smart dogs. That have money to buy books - or other money costing items, for that matter. Or perhaps they've been stolen - you KNOW the black market demand for sci-fi books (particularly hardcover) is higher than high.

One such thief, we'll call him Randolph, used to be the best book thief in Arkansas - despite the fact that he lived in Tennessee. Randolph knew all the book-stealing secrets - and he'd even invented a few. He'd toyed with teh idea o writing his secrets of book-stealing in a handy "How to Steal Books" book, but the irony of such thoughts prevented him from doing so. Plus, Randolph was illiterate.

Randolph's favorite way of nabbing a book, his modus operandi, even, was to have the book (or, if he felt ultra-lucky, several books) in hand, walk up to the counter, and then point behind the clerk and shout, "Oh my god, look!!"

The clerk(s) would inevitably turn in fear to see what had frightened the customer so. At this point, Randolph would make a run for it. Many first timers would make the mistake of dropping the book and then running. Not Randolph. He would have the escape route planned ahead o time, of course. (It was not unusual for Randolph to "case a joint" days before "hitting" it.) (The previous sentence had two examples of book thief lingo. They were indicated by quotation marks. - Ed.)

Randolph's black market contacts were generally mafia-reject types. Of course, he also had the occasional really smart dog as a customer, but the majority of his clients were human. By "majority", I mean 51%. Of those who were not canine,   Randolph's favorite "buyer" was a woman of Native American heritage. She claimed to be a reincarnated Frank Sinatra - which would make her approximately 9 months old as of January '99.

Randolph was going one day to "deliver the goods" to his Indian woman book buyer when his life  changed forever.

He was approached by two large men wearing raincoats and those old '40's spy hats. At first Randolph thought the men were going to knock him over, but instead they grabbed him by the arms and led him into an abandoned building that always appear in instances such as this.

The men, each about the size of a planet, pushed Randolph against a wall and blocked all means of escape.

"Where ya goin' wid da book?" one of them growled. It came out BUK, and it sounded like a weapon.

Randolph had heard of the ABTP before, but had previously never encountered them. The ABTP, or Anti-Book Thief Police, were a clandestine organization that believed that all people (and really smart dogs) should PAY for books. They barely tolerated libraries and had even reportedly bombed a few. Until now Randolph had never been positive that they existed. Like many book thieves, he halfway considered the ABTP to be the equivalent of space alines or decency in Las Vegas- a thing only crackpots believed in. Now, though, the reality of the group was staring him in the face.

Thinking quickly, Randolph answered, "I'm going to my grandmother's house because she's sick. She likes it when I read to her."

The ABTP goons glanced at each other. Deciding that they didn't believe him, they pushed Randolph against the wall again, harder. "No," one of them grunted.

"The truth," said the other.

Hoping that the truth may be his best way out of this, Randolph began to tell them. "I'm... I'm going to sell it to a customer of mine."

The thugs seemed satisfied. A smile came across the face of one of them. Randolph relaxed a bit - perhaps these weren't ABTP after all, maybe they were prospective clients - or maybe they were fellow book thieves- or maybe they were just overly curious.

When he saw the gun, however, he understood that he had made a fatal mistake.

The officer drawing the gun pointed it at Randolph's head and cocked it. "Your kind make me sick," he spat.

Randolph closed his eyes, witness the majority of his life's events in a forth of a second, and prepared (as much as one can prepare for it) himself for death.

But the bullet did not come.

A full three seconds passed before he opened his eyes. When he did, he still saw the ABTP officers in front of him, but he could also see through them. In a state of shock and wonder and amazement and disbelief, Randolph realized that the men in front of him had been frozen. Literally turned into ice sculptures.

Tentatively, Randolph reached out and touched one - the one with the gun (which had also been changed). Surprisingly, he was not cold to the touch. In fact, the assumption that the men were ice was incorrect. They were liquid, but not frozen. Yet still retaining the human forms...how the hell?
Randolph could not believe his eyes. When his fingers went into the liquid gun, ripples were sent through the man-form.

"Amazing," Randolph whispered. He was in a state that could only be described as awe. He waved his hand in front of the eyes of the men and was not surprised when that issued no response.

Realizing that his current luck may run out, he decided to take the chance to escape. The water-men, however, blocked the way. He would have to go through them  - literally.

He pushed his hand into one of them, then pulled it out. His hand was wet. Being one who normally jumped right into things, Randolph jumpred right in. Or, right through. He emerged on the opposite side of his would be killers soaking wet - but otherwise unharmed. He looked back at the men and was a little surprised to see that they looked a few inches shorter. Of course, Randolph reasoned, I removed part of them just now. He shuddered at the thought. And a small, morbid part of him wondered what would happen to the men if they became flesh again.

"You'll find out, if you stay much longer," a voice from behind him said.

Randolph screamed in fright. He had not known he had company. He turned to see who had spoken, and nearly fainted when he saw the Native American woman he was supposed to sell the now soaked book to.

She was holding some sort of stick with feathers and beads on it in one hand - and a bottle of Evian in the other. Randolph put two and two together and managed to ask the woman, "Did  y-you do th-that?"

The Indian woman smiled, nodded.

"H-how?"

Her smile widened and she said simply, "I did it my way."

at least it's consistent

so, i have (at least) 7 different story ideas in various stages in my head. And I had hoped that I'd at least get *some* writing done this month. However, EVERY SINGLE TIME I go to start writing one of them, I freeze up.
Every. Single. Time.
Massively annoying. Tomorrow when I have some time, I'm going to google up some writer's block remedies, see if that spurs anything on.

The Real Hero

I have to admit, Harper is the real hero (or is it Real Hero?) when it comes to New Super Mario Bros. Wii.

She defeated me in (some hilariously epic) Coin Battles, 10-4.

But  I think if we have a rematch, Yellow Toad may have some tricks up his sleeve. Yaaa!!

Zombie stories for people who don't like zombie stories

in honor of Easter, which is (supposedly) all about zombie Jesus, I'm gonna give you a list of zombie-related books that would be good reads, even if zombie stories aren't your thing. (And why wouldn't they be??)
But, regardless, these are good.

Feed by Mira Grant. (This is evidently the first in a trilogy, and I've yet to read any of the others in the series) Basically, it's year 2034, and  zombies have been around for 20 years. Whereas most zombie novels deal with the zombie-apocalypse happening, "Feed" focuses on how life goes on AFTER.
Bonus - the details of how the zombie virus affects the entire world (it's not just humans that are zombie-fied, it's all mammals over a certain weight. which means, among other things, zombie-giraffes.) are just incredibly well thought out and interesting.


Zombie, Ohio: A Tale of the Undead by Scott Kenmore.
So refreshing to have a zombie story told from the zombie's point of view. And even though the main character is a zombie, and thus, really, a monster, he's still sympathetic. This would make an amazing movie.

Monster Island, Monster Nation, and Monster Planet by David Wellington.
Everything I've read by David Wellington has been super enjoyable. The first and second are pretty much standalones, but reading book 3 without reading 1 would be a mistake. Interestingly, #2 is kinda a prequel to #1, and then #3 picks back up where 1 left off.  But all of them are unique takes on the typical zombie fare.

answers, such as they are

It's funny (not funny 'ha ha', but funny, 'hm'), I actually have a number of things that I want to blog about this month. Or, you know, at some point. But most likely this month while I'm on my 'blog every day this month' kick.
That's not the funny part (or, I guess, it could be, depending on your sense of humor). The funny part is that even though I have a growing list of possible blog entries in my brain, I am, yet again, finding myself at the end of the day, near exhaustion, with no ...whatever that word I'm looking for is.

But, upside? That means in the next few days (weeks?) when I've got more time to sit and blog, I'll totally have something to say! Exciting!

In the meantime, today's entry is gonna be me replying to the boq from 2 days back.

Like this:

If you could make a phone call to yourself 15 years in the past - but you could only speak for 10 seconds - what would you say? 
You know, I kinda do remember getting a bizarre phone call roughly fifteen years ago. The unidentified voice told me "ask her what kind of writing she does - it's a perfect pick up line." 
Death Star vs. Borg Cube. Which would win?
Resistance is futile. Borg FTW.
What songs/artists have you been listening to lately? Or, conversely, what song did you last hear on the radio (or internet or television or wherever)?
New (to me) artists that I'm really enjoying: Foxy Shazam, Local H, Garfunkel & Oates, Gotye*, Negativland.


Last song I heard on the radio on the drive home was "Such Great Heights" by Postal Service, which I'm frankly kinda tired of.


*I still like to randomly pronounce this band as either: Goat, Goat-yeah, Got ye, Go tie, Gyaaatee, or Goaty. And that is despite the fact that Amy did tell me the correct pronouncetiaon ...and of course, I don't recall what that was. Also, I don't know whether to applaud them or curse them for "Now You're Just Somebody That I Used to Know", because that phrase just does. not. leave. my. brain.

The Terminator franchise - what should be done with it?
I'd like to read (or write it myself, but I think reading it would be more likely) a remake of the original story where the T-800 is the protaganist. It would be a tragic tale, of course, because the evil humans win in the end, but I'd like to see it told from the Terminator's POV. (Or Skynet's?)
Also, I wouldn't mind visiting the timeline wherein the Sarah Connor Chronicles television series received a 3rd season.
Also also, my Year Zero story had some moments of brilliance.


Life is pretty crazy when you think about it. 
That's not a question. Also, life is pretty crazy even when you DON'T think about it.


go to wikipedia, and click on "random article". What'd you get?
Evidence-based pharmacy in developing countries. 
Suppose you go to a corner store, and when there, a group of teens ask you to buy them some alcohol. Despite it being against the law to do so, you do. Now, suppose the teens drink the alcohol, and then get into an accident. Who is at fault?

It's fobody's nault!

Now, same situation as above, but let's add a twist  - what if the teens get into an accident WITH YOU - and end up injuring you. ...could you sue them?

Dude. This is America. You HAVE to sue them.

I had thought that today was going to be a slow(ish) day at work, allowing me to work on some fiction writing. Alas, it was not the case, and I'm exhausted and it's late, and I haven't blogged yet, and tomorrow is not going to be any better (with regard to free time at work, anyway) so I guess I'll just see what the weekend brings.

The great thing is, this will be a 3-day weekend for me! I'm taking Monday off of work, because we have a billion errands to take care of. Hopefully I can make it a billion and one, and get some writing accomplished.

questions, a bunch of 'em

If I were not so tired, I'd do the markup/html thing. Alas, if you wanna answer these questions, you're going to have to provide your own bolding on the qs (or not, that's cool, too.)

If you could make a phone call to yourself 15 years in the past - but you could only speak for 10 seconds - what would you say? 


Death Star vs. Borg Cube. Which would win?


What songs/artists have you been listening to lately? Or, conversely, what song did you last hear on the radio (or internet or television or wherever)?


The Terminator franchise - what should be done with it?


Life is pretty crazy when you think about it. 


go to wikipedia, and click on "random article". What'd you get?


Suppose you go to a corner store, and when there, a group of teens ask you to buy them some alcohol. Despite it being against the law to do so, you do. Now, suppose the teens drink the alcohol, and then get into an accident. Who is at fault?


Now, same situation as above, but let's add a twist  - what if the teens get into an accident WITH YOU - and end up injuring you. ...could you sue them?

so, there ya go. if you've had a boq itch that's been needing scratching, that should suffice.

evidently, I have no will power

a co-worker was kind enough to buy me a Taco Bell meal today, including a Pepsi.

I was going to not drink it, but ultimately, caved. So, 3 days. At least I'm still blogging.

No TV and No Beer Make Homer Something Something

over 7 months ago (wait...really?? WHERE does the time go??), we canceled our cable, with the plan that our television viewing would be done with the converter box we had bought waaaay back when.
 Only, it turns out, that at some point we gave away (or lost) the converter box. Meaning, thanks to the digital conversion of 2009 (wow. time truly does go faster the older you get), we can not see the local stations over the air.
 But, here's the crazy thing - I don't miss it.
 I still stay up to date with Survivor (on CBS.com) and 30 Rock (on Hulu). But everything else...can wait for it to come out on DVD, really. That's what's going to have to happen with the final season of Chuck (I was watching that on Hulu, until NBC [or perhaps Warner Bros since I believe they own the program?] decided to NOT post the final freaking season online.) And that's how I'm going to have to see the final season(s??) of Breaking Bad (and I may have to go into internet-hiding once it starts so as not to get spoiled. God, I wish it were out already. I just WANT to know how it all ends...)
 Anyway. The point is, we still have netflix, and we still have the internet, so, ironically, TV can just curl up and die. (I do find it hilarious that I'm employed by a television station [and was even the Programming Director] but COULDN'T WATCH OUR STATION EVEN IF I WANTED TO. Ha ha! The ironing, etc.) But, yes. Netflix DVDs and Netflix streaming and DVDs from the library and Redbox have all supplemented our viewing of television.
And really, the only question(s) I have is(are) - why didn't we do this YEARS ago? And why doesn't everyone do it this way? The lack of commercials alone. My god, I SO do not miss commercials. (And this is an election year!! Score!!) Of course, that also means that this year we did not have the ability to watch the Super Bowl and thus, there was no Buffy Bowl 11. Bummer. Overall, though, the lack of network (and cable) television hasn't resulted in the end of the world. Of course, we still have to make it thru December of this year...

No Joke

I really do intend on blogging every day in April.

I also plan on not having any pepsi this month. (And, aside from the Dr. Shasta I had earlier with lunch [and will have with dinner], will also be avoiding sodas of all types)

The blogging everyday is just so I can get myself back into the habit of writing, something I've avoided for much too long.

The soda thing is simply to see how much will power I have (and, you know, there is the fact that it truly isn't good for me).

I'm 1/30th of the way there!

Nothing that happens on Leap Day counts

Oh, if only.

Steph already blogged about it, but I figured I should at the very least mention it myself. And, heck, Leap Day only rolls around once every 2/5th of a decade, so blogging on today is almost mandatory. Or something. I'm very tired.

But, yeah. Today was a bus day for me, which meant that Steph, and the littles picked me up at the bus stop (or, as I prophetically wrote in my 'leaving work' email today, the "bust stop"). Steph drove out onto the street, and the large white Dodge pickup truck in front of us stopped and began backing up.

As is the case in situations like this, time went all womlu, and seemed to simultanously speed up and move in slow motion. My brain wants to remember that Steph tried to back up herself, but it didn't really happen that way, I just think that I had wanted it to. What really happened was Stephanie screamed, and I had time to think, "He's backing up. He's not going to stop. Steph should go in reverse too. Maybe he'll just tap us." CRUNCH!

Oh, and at some point during all that, I leaned over from the passenger seat and laid on the horn, in an unsuccessful attempt to get the driver's attention. I remember too, that I kept honking even after he had come to a complete stop and the damage was already done. Part of my brain seems to feel/think that I'm honking still, that I'll be honking forever. (LIke I said, I'm really tired)

Anyway.

Tears were shed (Stephanie and Irina. I don't know/remember if Silas cried or not), and then the guy called his insurance company, while I searched (in vain) for our up-to-date insurance card. Meanwhile, Steph took my phone and called 311, and we waited for a police officer to show up.

To make a long story short (too late), we were all okay (although, obviously, extremely unhappy with the situation), and the van is still driveable, so, once the officer took our insurance info and the other guy's insurance info, and filled out the police report,we headed home. And now we're going to remember this stupid accident every four years. Crap.

oh, right, i was blogging, wasn't i?

remind me to keep on that.

it's amazing how many different thoughts/feelings/opinions one has about a day over the course of 24 hours, isn't it? Today has been incredible, funtastic, shitty, headache-inducing, mellow, boring, asinine, regal, busy, lazy, hilarious, and Wednesday.

Can't wait to see how tomorrow plays out.

random bits from today

I decided/learned that zombies hate mailboxes. (It's true. Have you ever seen a zombie near a mailbox?)

Sang the hot dog tune about 15 times - and that was in the 6pm hour alone!

Saw lots of road construction.

Finished book 2 of "Preacher". (It's not great, but I've got to see how it all ends.)

Watched "Horrible Bosses" - started off slow, but had some very funny moments to it. Haven't quite figured out what my haiku review will say about it, if I opt to do one.

Thought about just posting a random youtube video on days like today when I don't have anything to say. I may end up doing that in the future...

Cleaned another portion of my office up. It's slowly becoming (gasp!) organized!!

Blogged random stuff from today.

Worst. Ear Worm. Ever.*

back in December of this year (heh. or, rather, December of LAST year), we went out to get some groceries, and while at the supermarket, we saw a Salvation Army employee standing in front of his donation jar. He sang a little ditty as we went into the store:

"Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggity dog. Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggity dog."

We continued on our shopping, and everything was cool.

On our way out of the store, we encountered the man again.
And he sang the song to us once more:

"Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggity dog. Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggity dog."

And that was enough. Two times we heard that song, and it has been stuck in my head, off and on, for the past two months.
It was catchy enough, and almost familiar enough, that I knew it HAD to come from somewhere. So, I looked it up.

It's from the Mickey Mouse Club, evidently. And, as far as I can tell, was written (and performed, perhaps?) by They Might Be Giants. Which goes a LONG way in explaining why it's stuck so well. But, seriously. This song just won't get out of my head.

*Worst? Or Best? I guess it depends on your view, and how you define the success of an ear worm (or, meme, as they should be called - back before the word meme got coopted by internet quizzes and flickr and whatnot.)

A few Sundays ago, as I was leaving church, I found God's wallet. It looked like an ordinary wallet when I first saw it, but the identification inside stated that the owner was the Almighty.

I was quite surprised by this finding for many reasons. First, I did not know that God carried a wallet. Upon further thought, though, it made sense. Even the Lord needs a place to store His money.

The other surprising thing was that He'd lost his wallet at all. I had always assumed that God was all-knowing. Logic would dictate that an all-knowing being could never misplace anything. I dismissed this, however, with the fact that perhaps God had other things on His mind, and just hadn't come back for His wallet yet.

Which was the third surprise that occurred to me - God attended the same church that I did!?! So... my religion was the right one! Cha-ching!! Instant access into heaven!
And, I suddenly realized, now that i had God's wallet, I had the potential to become...like a saint or something. I could imagine it vividly... me. ... the patron saint of lost wallets. It brought a smile to my face.

First, though, I needed to return the sacred possession to the owner.

I briefly considered the Lost and Found, then discarded the idea in favor of tracking Him down and returning it in person.

I looked around the near-empty building. Most of the church-goers cleared out rapidly at sermon's-end, but a few like myself had not yet made it to the doors. None of the people still in the church looked like God. That is, no one was an old man with a long white beard, donning robes and glowing. Perhaps, I reasoned, my conception of God's appearance was wrong.

I opened the wallet and removed the driver's license. (God drives??)

The photo was blurry and unclear. Not Glamor Shots material, for sure. I could detect a somewhat high forehead atop which sat some (in my opinion, unnaturally) curly hair. I wondered if perhaps God had had a perm before the picture was taken.

His skin looked flawless (not a surprise) and did have a hint of angelic glow about it.

He was sporting facial hair, although it was brown, not white, and it was well-kept and short. It did wonders on concealing his age. Judging by the photo, he looked to be maybe 40 or 45. Not a day over infinity.

According to the ID, his birthdate was 01/01/01. His address was, ironically enough, the address of the church.

Looking through the rest of the wallet, I discovered a passport, a social security card (all 9s), a credit card (MasterCard, of course) and several denominations of bills (American money, and foreign bills of all kinds: yen, pesos, Euros, shekal, francs and more.)

I also found some "family" photos. There was, of course, teh Father, Son and Holy Ghost, several shots of Jesus (I could see the resemblance), one or two really old ones of Mary, plus an autographed picture of God shaking hands with Elvis Presley. The writing on the back said, "Long live the King. - EP"

Finding nothing else of interest (all things considered), I put everything back as I had found it, and carrying the wallet, left the church to see if God was still in the parking lot.

There was someone getting into a Pathfinder who, from the back, looked like they could possibly be God..

I ran to the person and tapped him on the shoulder. "You forgot..." I stopped when I saw that this man was NOT Our Father. He looked at me with a puzzled look on his face, "Yes?"

"Um. You... forgot to introduce yourself." I finished, sticking out my hand,I gave him my name. Cautiously, the man shook my hand and introduced himself.

"Well," I said, "guess I'll be going, now that I've met you." I tried to sound genuinely happy, but I'm sure the man thought I was psychotic.
"Okay." The man answered. "Nice... to meet you." He climbed into his truck and drove away.

The parking lot was utterly abandoned. I would have to track down God somewhere else.

Haiku Review: Super 8

Super 8: mix in
E.T, Goonies, ID4,
Cloverfield, lens flare.

This film was okay
as an homage to Spielberg,
just wasn't 'super'.

Calling it "Average
8" - more accurate, but would
have sold less tickets.

Haiku Review: 88 Minutes

Muddled, generic
"thriller" with no real suspense,
does have Hamcino.

Who's the killer? And
is the other guy guilty?
The answers are meh.

I had wanted to blog every day this year - or at the very least, every day that I had something to say - but seeing as I have nothing to blog about right now, I think I'm going to go ahead and give myself permission to skip today.

...and seeing as how I've just blogged, I do believe that gives me a 'get out of jail free' card to use at some point later in the year.

The CenturyLink Saga

Note that this saga ends ...anticlimatically.

So, we had Century Link as our cable provider for most of 2011, but due to finances, we simply could no longer to justify paying 60-whatever dollars for televised entertainment, and opted to cancel it. So, I canceled, back in October, and I distinctly remember during that conversation that Century Link told me, "We will send you a box in the mail so you can mail back the cable boxes."

Fast forward to Decemberish, and we still haven't received a box in the mail. So, whatever, we figure, we'll just keep the cable boxes as decorations. (They were technologically pretty.) Around this time, though, we were having dinner at the Dairy Queen near my work, and we saw a Century Link building right across the street. Steph made a comment to me that I could "return the boxes there in person". I agreed. And then, of course, didn't do it. Heh.

So fast forward a few more weeks, and we find a Century Link bill with a 260 dollar charge on it. Apparently they REALLY want the boxes back, and were willing to charge us insane amounts of money until we returned them.

That brings us to the present. Or, yesterday, I suppose. We got the Century Link boxes together, along with the remote controls (well, the remote controls minus one backing panel) and the router, and I put them in the front seat of the van so I could return them to that Century Link near my work during my lunch break.

THAT brings us to today. Lunchtime arrives, and I get in the van and drive down the road a half mile to that CL building. As I'm pulling into the parking lot, I see a sign on the gate that says, "This in not the business office. That is at 330 S Valley View Blvd".

Hrm. Okay. So. I'm a little peeved, but whatever. I drive down to Valley View Blvd, which is just a few miles down the road. But at that part of town, I'm at approximately 3700 S Valley View. [sigh]. So I drive and drive and drive, and make my way thru I don't know how many miles of construction, and EVENTUALLY get down to 330 Valley View.

As I'm pulling up, I'm noticing that there ...aren't a lot of cars there. Or, more specifically, there are NO CARS in the parking lot. And then I see a piece of paper taped to the front of the building. Uh-oh. Pieces of paper taped to buildings are never good.

I park, get out, and find out that the Century Link offices have moved to 2101 N Rainbow.

Now I'm super irritated, but have to drive back to work, because my lunch hour is nearly up at this point.

However, Rainbow is the road I take home, so, I figure, I'll drop off these boxes on my way home.

I finish up my work day, and then proceed down Rainbow. I find 2101 and pull in there. As I get to the door there, I see a sign ...that says the hours are 9a-6p. :)

Once inside, it took all of 20 minutes (maybe less) to get the situation sorted out, and all the extra charges dropped from our bill. Hooray!!

Habit!

They say that to have a habit form, you have to repeat the action for six weeks. (Or, something similar to that. Or maybe I just made that statistic up out of an amalgamation of things I've heard/read over the past 30-some-odd years.)

ANyway. Let's assume that it DOES take 6 weeks for a pattern of behavior to become a habit. I suppose that means that mid-February, I'll finally be used to blogging again. I hope that it becomes easier by that point. Heh.

Tomorrow is the first work day of the new year, and I'm not looking forward to it. In addition to the mountain of work (almost literally at this point - the paperwork in my office is seriously stacking up), I have 3 different locations to stop at either while on my lunch break, or directly after I get off work. That's the bad thing about starting the new year off with days off. You expect that to be the norm... So, maybe it only takes 2 days for habits to form.

Don't call it a comeback

Although I guess that's technically what it is.

Yep, I'm blogging again. Which means there might be something to all those 'end of the world' theories about this year after all.

10 X Ten

Happy 10/10/10!

Here's a boq. (I've asked (and answered) these questions before, but, they're apt for today's date.)
You can answer in the comments, or if you'd like to make this viral, you can answer it on your own blog, I just ask that you link back to me.

<b>Where do you see yourself in 10 seconds?</b>

<b>Where do you see yourself in 10 minutes?</b>

<b>Where do you see yourself in 10 hours?</b>

<b>Where do you see yourself in 10 days?</b>

<b>Where do you see yourself in 10 weeks?</b>

<b>Where do you see yourself in 10 months?</b>

<b>Where do you see yourself in 10 years?</b>

<b>Where do you see yourself (or humanity) in 10 decades?</b>

<b>Where do you see yourself (or humanity) in 10 centuries?</b>

and finally...

<b>Make a Top 10 List.</b>

September went by pretty quickly, didn't it?

Of course, now that tomorrow is October (!!!), the rest of the year will slip into fast forward. Especially with all the events coming up this month. There's thee Renaissance Faire on the 8th, as well as payday.
And that Sunday is 10/10/10...which ...while very cool, I don't know what I'll do to celebrate. Probably just be all, "Cool. Today is 10-10-10!"
And then there's the 22nd. We'll see how that goes.
And of course, Halloween at month's end. And, hey, cool! This year it's on a Sunday, so I will actually have it off from both jobs. Hooray!

And now, the word cloud from September:

Visibility was poor, and he'd been speeding - just a little - and it was raining cats and dogs, and yeah, he'd had a few too many drinks before leaving the bar, so in all fairness, the accident was his fault. But it was still also the Freak's fault for being in the road in the first place.

At least, that was the justification Alexander used to help him feel better.

If he'd not been intoxicated, though, he probably would have called the police, and things would have turned out much differently. Perhaps the Freak would have been saved, and that would have made a world of difference, because then - most likely - there wouldn't have been the Retaliation, which resulted in so many deaths.

Sometimes Alexander was kept awake by these thoughts and the guilt that came along with them.

Knowing that, inadvertently, he'd been the cause of unimaginable suffering... it could weigh on a guy's conscious.

Mostly, though, he felt rage toward the Freaks. Nobody asked the original Freak to show up in the first place. Nobody asked him to stick around, fighting crime and saving lives and being all heroic. And certainly nobody asked him to be in the middle of the road that night.

But he had been.

And, so it was that Alexander Luthor had hit Superman with hsi car, critically injuring him.

Alexander felt another pang of anger - at Superman - when he thought about it some more. What kind of superhero is able to be killed by a speeding car? Wouldn't it have made more sense if, instead, his car had been crunched, and the Freak had walked - or flown - away unscathed? THat's how the comics and movies had always depicted his abilities.

But as it turned out, the comics and movies got it wrong. In plenty of ways. There was no Kryptonite - the Freaks could be killed by the same means as humans - they just had super-strength, and could fly. Also, "Superman" - the original Freak - was not the last of his kind. Something Earth learned the hard way once Superman's death made the news.

Pick a song

So, you're driving along, listening to the radio, and scanning the presets. You hear three tunes - which do you choose to listen to?

A) "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" by the Smashing Pumpkins

B) "Kiss Me Deadly" by Lita Ford

C) "Sober" by Tool

Your friends don't dance.

I've had that song stuck in my head all day.


Also I'm not P@. I'm Saren. again. Because I started this blog and I'M GONNA END IT.

I'm sure that's a line from some movie. Somewhere. I say this because quoting movies makes you cool.

Okay so. Dad walked out and asked me to blog for him so I wanted this to be all creative and stuff and not like when I was blogging for him just to put in a filler. I guess I still am though, putting in a filler. but. but.

no butts.

Haiku Review: The Fourth Kind

Aliens? God? Hoax?
It's up to you to decide.
(But it's aliens.)

Except that it's not.
Because the "footage" was fake,
to make more drama.

Fake money stories

Warning: Not that interesting!

I only have a few stories involving counterfeit money that I can recall. here they are!

About (my god!) 15 years ago, a friend of mine's mom worked in a casino. At one point during her shift, she received a counterfeit 100 dollar bill. Somehow or other, she ended up giving it to my friend and let her spend it. yay for moms with wacked out moral compasses!

About a year ago, I had a 20 dollar bill in my possession that was fake. (I didn't know it at the time) When I went to spend it at Taco Bell (of course!), the cashier informed me that it was a counterfeit bill - and then attempted to give it back to me. Haa! I told him I didn't want it (and coincidentally, when I was being trained at the sev about fake money, I was told that if any come my way, I'm supposed to hold on to them). The guy did give me the meal, though (but not the change. So, even though it was only 15 or 16 dollars, it cost us 20. Or nothing, if you want to look at it another way).

And about a week ago I went through the McDonald's drivethru with a coworker, and attempted to pay with 100 Grand. They didn't accept that, but at least it made the cashier smile.

borrowing Soupy's thunder

I'm not stealing it, see. I'm just borrowing it, I guess.

Soupytwist has been blogging about art all this month. (Or maybe it's Art. Probably both.)
Anyway. She has talked about movies and television and books, but one thing that she hasn't mentioned (that I've seen) is video games.

So. Can video games be art? I would argue that they can be, if movies are, since video games are just movies that are controlled by individuals.

But, then, if video games are art...what about board games? Or card games? Or just any game at all - is freeze tag performance art? Or is it simply fun?

And what constitutes a game, anyway? You can make a game out of anything if you try hard enough (it's sometimes the only way to make time pass in a bearable fashion "Let's see how many people buy Marlboros this hour.") so...I'm not sure what my point is, other than I've been awakr for waaaay too long, and so I'm pretty exhausted at this point.

I'll bet she does

Funniest line from a political commercial:

"I'm Sharon Angle, and I approve this mess--"

Heh. I know that it was unintentional and that it was just the last half second being cut off, but it made me chuckle. Now, if only the other 29.5 seconds of the spot could be cut off as well...

100 days and MANTIS

2010 only has 100 days left in it! Crazy. And, actually, since this day is more or less over now, it's 99.

Our Mantis (Steph blogged about it here - way back in July!) has grown to a disturbingly large size now. I'm not sure how big it is, exactly, but it's much bigger than it was all those months ago when it first appeared on our screen door.
In fact, until a few weeks ago, I was pretty certain that it was going to be stuck there because the gap to get out was way too thin for it to fit through.

However, I saw it squeeze itself out of the crack about 3 weeks ago (in order to catch another insect that made the mistake of crawling nearby - which was awesome and scary) ...and then it squeezed back in. Heh. It totally thinks of the screen door as it's home.

But if it gets much larger... well, my joke right now is that it will probably eat the turtles first. And then the cats. So, we'd have time to get away before it goes after us.
Although I've not seen the turtles for a few days now....

Don't worry! Bill Murray!

(Today is Bill Murray's birthday. And whenever he comes up, that line from that song gets stuck in my head. So, thank you Mr. Murray, and also, Mr. Cicierega.)

And to help make this more interactive - what is your favorite Bill Murray movie and/or quote or story?

In lieu of a real entry (I've been sitting at the keyboard for over seven minutes now, staring at a blank screen, tyring to think of *something* to write), I'm just going to find a random youtube song, and link to that.

Why? Because it's what we do. (and because I've been listening to that album today.)

In an alternate universe, where sheep have superstrength (provided through their wool) and have been domesticated by humans and raised into intelligent weaponry....someone has uttered the line, "You sheared my battlesheep."

But I don't think that particular sentence has ever been said in *this* universe. Until now.

Work makes me grumpy

Well, lots of things makes me grumpy. But working certainly tops the list. And having to deal with obnoxious individuals. Seriously, there shouldn't be 10 commandments, there should be one. And it would be thus: "Dude. Don't be a dick."

It's not a tough one to follow, is it? I don't think that it is, but obviously there's something tough about it, because a good portion of the population can't seem to obey it.

Eh. Whatever. I'm home now, and no work tomorrow, and I've got great kids and a day to enjoy them with. So there's good things to balance out all negative. :)

Here's Irina!

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And then she said, "That's all." I'm glad I have children who will assist me in my blogging related goals. :)

If all goes well tomorrow, I'll get back to Goat's tail. I mean tale. If not, then most certainly Sunday.

The Goatest story ever told

Billy was 9 when the Supreme Creator of the Universe first spoke to him directly.

He was at a petting zoo, when he heard the voice behind him. "Billy."

Young Billy turned to see who had spoken. His father was watching off in the distance, along with several approaching families, but this voice had come from the opposite direction.

One of the goats looked at Billy with it's bizarre square-shaped pupils and opened it's mouth. "Hey there," it said.

Billy was surprised to hear a goat speaking, but handled it pretty well. He screamed in absolute terror, and ran toward his father. Goat ran after him (as goats generally do) saying, "Billy. Stop making a scene. I have something important to tell you."

Needless to say, this did not make Billy calmer. His father had already jumped into the petting zoo's fenced-in area, and was running to scoop up his horrified child.
Goat sighed. "I was hoping we wouldn't have to do this the Old Testament way. Humans are so stubborn." Goat then butted Billy in the butt, knocking him down. Billy had the wind knocked out of him. An eternity seemed to pass as Billy's mind processed everything that had recently happened:

A goat spoke to me. And then chased me. And then rammed it's head into my butt and oh my god, I can't breathe!

And then Billy took a huge breath inward, and cried like he hadn't since he was a little baby. All he wanted was to be back home where there weren't goats that talked and he wasn't being assaulted by barnyard animals.

And now it's nearly 11pm, and tomorrow is a 15 hour work day, so I'll have to work on/finish this story later.

Things are about to get real

Heh. Lame joke. It's Reality TV night! Survivor premieres in about 20 minutes (as long as the digital reception stays ...receptionable?), and it's the finale of America's Not Talented! Who will win? LOG? Hatboy? Someone more deserving? We'll find out...unless I fall asleep first.

But, Survivor!! We totally had pizza tonight, too, in honor of it. Yay for traditions. Oh, also, we have decided as a family that Jeff Probst is probably a Twilight-type vampire. I mean, he never ages, and he's handsome and sparkly in the sunshine. ...it makes sense. (we're very nerdy)

And lastly, big thanks to  Saren for blogging for me while I slept.

Dad hasn't blogged yet.

It's almost tomorrow and The P@ hasn't blogged today. So I figured (actually, debated with myself for about an hour) that I'd post for him. I figure if he really doesn't want this post then he can delete it.

Anyway, so that you forget that he almost didn't blog today, here is a kitten, because no one can be angry at kittens.

unless said kitten peed on your floor.

By the way, Dad, if you'd rather not have this post just delete it. I'm sorry for blogging for you.

Cross Canada off the list

If there is any truth the dream I had last night, Canada is not a place to live. Well, I mean, if you're a cat. Because, apparently, in Canada there are spiders the size of a dinner plate, and they exist on a cat-only diet. Still creepy, though.

Oh, and you have to knock on any door that you enter, even ones in your own house.

Those crazy Canucks.

It's true - there aren't enough hours in the day. Or, more accurately, not enough hours in the night.

"And the wot-wot nine under salty agwa, seen?"

This woman was clearly delusional. Some of the words she had been sputtering were English, but making sense of them was beyond me.

"I. Don't. Understand. You."

It's a common fact that if you talk slower to people you don't get, they will gain comprehension.

Which is why the woman began speaking back to me, slowly.

She sighed in frustration, then said, "Rat-a-pills swack. Swack mon, seen? Swack all mon? Rat-a-pills?"

I shook my head. "I don't have any drugs, lady. And I think you probably should lay off them."



Aaaand that's enough for now. It's still forming in my mind, which is in some bad need of some rest. Man, today was long.

nines are bad, huh?

I'm not very knowledgeable on numerology, but is today's date cursed or something? It was just, overall, an unpleasant one.

I've been grumpy the last few days, though, so maybe numbers have nothing to do with it.

Anyway. Tomorrow's the 10th, so it's got to be a better day. In fact, I will make it a better day. Even if I have to kill every single person that gets in my way and tries to ruin it.

Tomorrow: Story time! Just have to decide which one to go with.

Haiku Review: Sherlock Holmes

How did Tony Stark
go back in time to 19th
century London?

4 kids!

Hooray! We have our Saren back!

When we got her from the airport -which, dude. I'm SO glad we don't fly often. Airports are on the same level as DMVs when it comes to boredom production and bureaucracy atmosphere - I said that she looked taller. She replied that we all looked "tinier". Heh.

Sadly, I haven't been able to see her much, because after driving back home, I had to go back to work for the rest of the day, and then when I got home, due to jetlag and having been awake for many hours, Saren was exhausted. I saw her for maybe 20 minutes when I got home, and then she crashed.

But, still. Nice to have all four kids in the house again.

A matter of taste

Who was the United States most delicious president? My gut (ha!) instinct says Franklin Donuthole Roosevelt.

However, John Fructose Kennedy was probably sweeter (although much less nutritious).

I suppose, ultimately, it's a matter of taste, as most things food and political are.

same ol', same ol'

I keep telling myself, "It doesn't matter if it's bad - it probably will be - just write it anyway."

I keep not listening.

dogs are barking

Never quite understood how feet are dogs, but whatever. My feet are really sore right now. The sev keeps me on my feet pretty much the entire shift, as opposed to the station, where I'm more or less sitting the majority of the day. What I really need is a job where I get paid for lying down. Heh.

Tomorrow, definitely no work-related blog entry. Seems like that's all I talk about anymore.

Today though, was a much better day at the sev. Or, rather, I'm feeling better about it. I think yesterday was just bad due to being so long. And the person training me (both yesterday and today) was somoene I hadn't known previously. I got to know him a bit better today, and when I needed help, I asked for it, and he provided it, so the feeling of overwhelmedness was much diminished.

Now, though, I am ready for sleep. Glorious, glorious sleep.

eh.
Just spent the last five minutes or so trying to think of a title, unsuccessfully.
My day was long, stressful, ultimately rather boring.
WOrking at "the sev" is, I think, not something I want to do for an extended amount of time. I like it, in theory. But it seems that each time I go toward there, I feel a small sense of dread. I fear that I'm not learning the job quickly enough, and not really being trained properly. Or, maybe, that I'm not being trained the way I would like to be? Because it seems that the way I've been taught thus far has been the "throw him in and see if he swims" method, which, is, you know, fine. People can learn that way (and I am learning) but it's also somewhat stressful while you thrash about until you start to tread water, ya know?

I'm rambling, and not really sure what my point is, or if this is even worth blogging about, but, there ya go. All I know is that I'm rather relieved that I don't have to work at any of my jobs on Sunday.

Now or never

It's really very early, but I figure if I don't blog NOW, I won't really get a chance, since I'm working both jobs today, and won't be home until after 10pm. And by that point, I have no idea if I'll be alert enough to even compose anything on the computer.
So, I thought, why not blog now, before you leave home?

Great. Only problem is, I have nothing to talk about.

All right. I promise to blog again when I get back home. Perhaps something interesting will happen during my 15 hour work day. (One can hope, right?) For now, I need to go wash some dishes and make my lunch(es).

Nine oh two one schmoe

That was Steph's nickname for Beverly Hills 90210, which we sometimes watched (in syndication) waaaay back in the day.

I had originally wanted Fridays to be "Fiction Fridays" wherein I would write some sort of nontrue anecdote. But I'm rather tired (shocking!), so I'll pass for now. Perhaps I'll ...oh wait. Heh. TOday is only Thursday. Oh, man. See? Tired!

Speaking of fiction, though, and also of weird coincidences:
For a few days now I've had a story idea mulling about in my head (actually, it's alternated between about 3 or 4 of them), but anyway, one of the main ones was about a guy who goes to a party, and takes a hit of a new drug called Zig Zag, and passes out. When he comes to, he's somewhere he doesn't recognize. Eventually, he discovers that he's in a different world, one wherein the zombie apocalypse has already taken place. (Yeah, it's always zombies.)
I was trying to think up a way to make it so that, in fact, he himself was a zombie.
But, the thing was, he would flip back and forth between our world and zombieland (heh. Zombieland.) whenever he would sleep in one, and that proved tricky, since, you know, zombies don't sleep.

But anyway. I've had that premise in my head for a few days.

Today, I'm at the library, picking up some other items, and a graphic novel caught my eye. That novel? Revolver. Which is about a guy in a dead-end job who, whenever he falls asleep, finds himself in a post-apocalyptic world...

Would you like to take a survey?

So, I didn't get my nap.

I was lying down, just on the brink of actually getting some sleep, when, as the Universe often does when Loki (this one, not this one) is in charge, the telephone rang.

Thinking it might be important (Saren, perhaps, whom I haven't talked to in ages! I miss her!!), I answered.

It wasn't Saren. Unless, while in Ithaca she has become roboticized. And has developed a sudden and acute interest in Southern Nevada politics and my opinion on how Jim Gibson is doing in his job. [sigh]

So, after completing the phone survey (I know. I should've just hung up. It's not like I was oging to hurt the robot's feelings...), I couldn't go back to sleep, so I went outside and cleaned up the front yard's massive amount of leaves. (It's been, like, 3 months since I last did, so there were a LOT).
Now I'm all sweaty, and hungry, and even more tired than before.

All told, I would have preferred the nap.

That's August's word cloud, for what it's worth.

I'm exhausted, which is nothing new. And still not used to blogging. Day one of September is covered, though, so there's that. Tomorrow should be better. And by better, I mean, I'll be more alert, and hopefully have some more interesting content to provide. For now, I think I'm going to attempt to take a nap while Steph, Harper, Irina, and Silas are still out enjoying the minor break in the heat we've been having.

June words, etc

Wordle cloud from June:



I've decided to blog everyday in September. Not expecting it to be wonderful writing or anything, just that my blog has been rather neglected lately, and I want to remedy that.

The Eels have a new album ("Tomorrow Morning") coming out in 2 days. But you can currently listen to it free on their myspace page. Hooray!

Also in 2 days? The entire series of Lost comes out on DVD. Eh. I have a feeling that maybe in 5 years or so, I'll want to revisit the series, but the ending has, for now, soured my view of the whole thing. (Although I did watch that 12 minute "epilogue" that will be in the special features. It was ...okay.)

Another thing happening in 2 days? The 3rd (and final) Hunger Games book ("Mockingjay") comes out. The first two were wonderful. We're on the waiting list for Mockingjay at the library, but we are like #240, so it may be a while before we get to it. Although I get first dibs. Because Saren read book 1 first, then Steph read book 2 first, so I get book 3 first, right? (Man. That sentence had a lot of 'first' in it, and probably could have been better stated. But, whatever. I'm tired, and my mind is focused on the Eels songs and my point got across.)

Another other thing in 2 days? Saren leaves on her trip to Ithaca. Steph has already talked about this briefly. It's going to be really strange for Saren to be out of the house for that long. And so far away. I'm sure she'll have a great time, though. I wonder if she'll get homesick. And if Steph will be okay. She's the one who is going to see her off at the airport, after all. (Her flight leaves at some ungodly hour in the morning, and because of airport "security" inconveniences, I'll stay home with Harper, Irina, and Silas. So, most of us will have to say our goodbyes to Saren the night before. Steph, on the other hand, will be there to actually hug her before she leaves. I'm not sure who has the better deal there.)

We'll have Skype of course, so we'll be in touch everyday, but it's still gonna be strange for our eldest to be out of the house - and across the country! - for two weeks.

one two three...

Today is 8/9/10, and I started a second (part-time) job at 7-Eleven.

Numbers are cool.

Edit - Ha! Being bored, I just entered "7-8-9-10-11" into swagbucks, and got rewarded with six of them. Heh.

Me, circa 2030

Wow. Um. I'm not going to be the best looking 55 year old, am I?

What about you? How will you look in 20 years?

20 bucks, same as in town

Last night I dreamt about Last Comic Standing. (I know, right? How boring am I?)

Anyway, the sad thing is that I can't remember the majority of the joke, so I'm hoping we can reverse engineer it. I recall the set-up, and the punchline, but I need the middle section.


The set-up is that "these" are the three most important questions in the world.

I don't remember 1 & 2, but the "punchline" was that the third was "Did you hear what I said?"

...which, really, isn't all that funny, but in the dream it certainly was. And, hey, maybe if I remembered what the first two questions were, it would be  (doubtful!), so, if you're feeling particularly comedic, have at it. What are the other 2 most important questions in the world?

Shave your face with some mace in the dark

I'm clean shaven again.

I'd post a photo, but oddly, all the pictures (well, it's just the one so far) of me sans beard make me look older and aren't appealing, so for the sake of my vanity, none are available yet. Give me a day or three to get used to it (and take better pictures. Ha!).

Actually, here. I'll just put the picture up so that there's something else to this post, because as it is, it's somewhat boring, isn't it?

Halfway to 70

So it's Flag Day.

Last night I had a disturbing dream.
Keeping in mind that a) people's dreams are always less interesting to anyone hearing about them than the one who had them, and b) describing dreams usually takes much less time than the dream itself, here's what happened:

It was a post apocalyptic setting. The details of which were apparently not important enough for my brain to create, but I knew that a large percentage of the population had died off, fairly recently.

Survivors began to congregate, as they do in such tales.
I suggested that we go to the library to gather books on plumbing, gardening [real life intrusion!], and...I had some other topic that I thought was vital, but I forget now. But, you know, knowledge is power and all that, so that was the plan.

On the way to the libe, I picked up on some less than kind vibes coming from a young guy near the back of the group.

At one point he even told me, "You're going to die unexpectedly."

Well, that certainly increased the feeling of dread that was creeping over the dream.

Anyway. We get to the library, and we begin searching for books, splitting up to cover more ground quicker.

Naturally, I end up alone with Threat Guy, and two other people. Threat Guy (man, it would be nice if dream-people came pre-equiped with names, no?) removed a gun from his jacket, and I'm in full-on panic mode. But one of the other people in the room with us said, "Don't worry, Patrick. You don't die here."

Hearing this prophecy (I really don't know why, but that's the sense I got - what this guy said was actually preordained, and just...prophetic), anyway, hearing this prophecy instantly calmed me.
I was at complete and utter peace....and that's when Threat Guy shot me in the back of the head.

And then, at that exact instant, I woke up because Saren was screaming about a bug in her room.

It was 1am. Happy Birthday!!

The remainder of the day was surprisingly less dramatic.

At work I received Happy Birthday wishes from about 13 different people, with roughly 4 of them asking me why I didn't take the day off. Heh.
I also got free lunch (no such thing!), 4 bags of Skittles, a bag of barbecue potato chips, and a cupcake.

When I got home, I walked into the girls jumping out from various hiding places to wish me happy birthday, and homemade cards from them all. Not surprisingly, many of them were chinchilla related.

Oh, yes. I'm 35 now, so...chinchilla day, right?


Well... no.

A few days ago, Steph said (paraphrasing): "I didn't say you'd get a chinchilla when you turn thirty-five. I said 'forty-five'."

So, 10 years until I get the 'chilla. Mark the calendars - 6/14/20.

(Reminder: Get this promise in writing.)

But, now Steph is making dinner - and a cake - and later I'm going to make good on my Birthday Resolution #2 (which is to start writing, daily, again). (Resolution #1 is to exercise daily. Completed!)

So, all in all, a pretty good Flag Day.

Wii!

A lesson for all those who want to run a corporation someday

While removing a bunch of employees seems like a great way to save money (and, in fact, probably is, at least in the short term), keep in mind that the workers you have stick around are going to have their workload doubled (or sometimes tripled ...or more).

And while that might work out just fine for you - after all, you aren't doing any extra work, and you're saving lots of money since you aren't increasing the workers' pay - given enough time, your slaves are going to get worn out from all that extra labor.

And when people get tired, they make mistakes.

And mistakes? They tend to cost businesses money.

Sometimes LOTS of money.

Sadly, I don't think this 'lesson' will be learned by anyone, really, because honestly, it's not like the workers have much say in the matter. I mean, what are they gonna do - starve?

So, despite the fact that working people to death is good for neither them nor, ultimately, you, the whole stupid game will keep on going until the earth tires of it all and hurls itself into the sun.

Haiku Review: Diary of the Dead

Oh, look. Zombie flick
with "social commentary".
How original!

"Diary" wasn't
bad, just heavy-handed,
and not ground-breaking.

May 2010 word count

I can't believe tomorrow is June. And also back to work. Even 3 day weekends are too short.

Harper with Lickorish

Magic girl

People in this family who got haircuts today:

Me.

Harper.

That is all.

That's easy. Pez. Cherry flavored Pez.

Imagine you're going to be cursed.

The curse is, that for the rest of your life, you will only hear the music of *one* band (or singer). If you could choose who the artist was, who would you choose and why?


And what band or singer would be absolute hell for you?


Yes, I realize that these questions may be too difficult to actually answer. I have thought about it for a while, and I still don't have a response myself.