Everybody I know is sick. Not "sick as in they need to be institutionalized for kicking a puppy"... but rather "sick as in they have a cold, or a sinus infection, or the flu, or some other illness that I don't want." I worry that if things get any worse I will arrive at work tomorrow only to find the place closed due to an ebola outbreak. All we need is a little more bad luck, and I'm sure an infested monkey will turn up somewhere...
For some reason, I don't get sick. Honestly, I can't tell you the last time I've had a cold or the flu or anything like that. I'd like to chalk it up to good living, but since I don't get much exercise and eat for crap, I'm sure that's not the case. Maybe I've just got good luck when it comes to health (it would be nice to know I've gotten lucky somewhere in my life). Maybe my body has decided to save all my sick days, and everything is going to go wrong all at the same time? That would suck!
I have mixed feelings on Valentine's Day... especially since I don't have a valentine this year. On one hand, I admit that it's kind of nice to have somebody so special that the rest of your life seems unimportant. On the other hand, I think back to other years where I did have one, and can't help but think that maybe I am better off this year. Here is a typical Valentine's Day for Dave...
Yep, that pretty much sums it up. Which is why I'm not too broken up when the guy they dump me for proceeds to dump them. I am not posting this to make people feel sorry for me... I'm way past that. I am just putting this out there my ex=girlfriend won't expect me to feel sorry for her when they come back looking for sympathy because the guy they dumped me for turns out to be a shit. Sure, I try to be a nice guy and all... but not to the point of being stupid.
Happy Valentine's Day!
Tonight I got a lovely call from the credit department at Bon-Macys telling me that my credit rating was in the toilet because they have not received payment for the past 3 months. Well, as I blogged a while back, I would have gladly paid the bills had they been sent to the billing address I had given them.
Long story short, they removed the late fees, corrected the address to what it should have been in the first place, and promise to fix my records with the credit bureau people (apparently they decided to trash my credit report before they bothered to call me?!?). This is so insane because I didn't want the card in the first place... I only got it so I could save $20 on a suitcase I bought.
I'm so mad right now that I wish there was a clown's ass I could set on fire. I hate clowns. Clowns are scary.
Anyway, here is a helpful hint... when you apply for a credit card, be SURE that you ask to fill out a paper application. Do not trust the person at the cash register to enter it in the machine directly!! Otherwise they could switch your addresses around and send your bills to the wrong address and give you a bad credit rating because they're stupid.
When you publish your thoughts on a blog that's open for the entire world to see, you are bound to have people reading it that are not going to agree with you. That's fine with me because everybody is entitled to their own opinion. Some of these people feel the need to send an e-mail telling me that they disagree, which is also fine. If the e-mail is intelligent and thoughtful, I may even bother to read it. If it's particularly compelling, I may even reply.
But then there are the morons who do not send thoughtful and intelligent e-mail... they send moronic hate mail that is just a waste of time because I don't even bother to read it past the first line before hitting the "delete" button. Hey, life is too short, and if you want to behave like that please feel free to start your own blog and stop reading mine.
And then I really did it... I made a joke about hating clowns so much that I wish I could set a clown's ass on fire. Apparently, when you slander a clown like this, there is a coalition of clown-loving morons that feel the need to inundate the offender (me) with charming e-mails calling you "sick" and "stupid." Some of the e-mails were so over-the-top that you'd think I had actually set a clown on fire rather than having just joked about it in a cartoon. And there's my real problem with these idiots... IT WAS A FRICKIN' CARTOON FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! Pull that stick out of your ass and loosen up!
But anyway, in the interest of being diplomatic to any clown lovers that might be reading this blog, I will issue an apology. Yes, I still hate clowns. I don't find them at all funny... I find them scary and stupid. But that's no reason to joke about wanting to set a clown on fire, and it was never my intention to promote violence against any living thing. That was wrong.
In the future, I won't make any more jokes about clowns on fire. Instead, I'll joke about hitting them with baseball bats...
Now that's funny!
Why is Blogography grey today? Glad you asked! I've decided to join in with the others over at Grey Tuesday in protesting the recording industry's ever increasing restrictions on artistic expression. A while back DJ Danger Mouse did something very curious... he blended tracks from Jay-Z's Black Album with samples lifted from The Beatles' White Album and created something wonderful and new called, you guessed it, The Grey Album.
This was no easy task, as the original works are completely different in style, tempo, feeling, and philosophy. But the result is pretty amazing. Unfortunately the dumbass party poopers at EMI records (who co-own a huge chunk of The Beatles' music catalog along with Michael Jackson) have issued cease and desist letters to anybody distributing The Grey Album... even if they aren't charging for it.
What totally blows about all this is that up-and-coming DJs wanting to break into the business have historically done exactly this type of thing in order to hone their mixing talents and work on their DJ skills. What's the harm in it? Does EMI honestly think that an album that has sampled tracks from The Beatles will cut into Beatles' album sales? I mean, money is all they care about (anybody believing that EMI is somehow trying to "preserve the integrity" of The Beatles' music is deluding themselves), and it's kind of stupid to think that sales of The White Album are going to plummet because of this. Hell, they may very well rack up new sales from an audience that has never even heard it before!
Being an artist is an exercise in creativity that requires drawing inspiration from the world around you. Forbidding an artist to explore that creativity will not only hurt the future of the music, but ultimately the consumers who want to listen to it as well.
Since Billy Crystal came back to hosting the Academy Awards, I decided to have them playing while I worked... Funniest Moment: Adrian Brody's breath freshener (runner up: any moment with Billy Crystal). Most Deserved Oscar: Sofia Coppola's original screenplay (runner up: Finding Nemo's best animated film). Most Undeserved Oscar: Sean Penn's best actor... he's good, but dozens of other actors could have played that role equally well, whereas nobody else could have pulled off Bill Murray's performance in Lost in Translation. Best Unrecognized Performance: Uma Thurman from Kill Bill.... again, how many other actresses could have pulled that off? Best Speech: Renée Zellweger's best supporting actress. Worst Speech: Sean Penn's not-so witty WMD comment (I feel the exact same, but it was completely inappropriate here... Tim Robbins was able to restrain himself, but you couldn't? Dick.)... oh hell, all of the speeches were pretty terrible, because all I heard after the first 20 seconds was "blah blah blah blah blah." Hottest Babe: Jennifer Garner (runners up: Catherine Zeta Jones, Charlize Theron). Most-Missed Babe: Halle Berry.
Overall a pretty good show. The only lingering question is whether Lord of the Rings deserved such overwhelming praise... best adapted screenplay, absolutely... best special effects, definitely... but the others? Perhaps. As I mentioned before, I honestly think that it is winning not for the film Return of the King that was nominated, but is instead winning for the entire trilogy. When thinking about it that way, perhaps it is deserving.
You may have noticed that I don't post any of those dippy quiz results that seem to be all the rage in other blogs. No offense to those of you who love nothing better than hanging out at Quizilla all day answering questions, but I don't find those things to be even remotely entertaining. Who gives a crap "what kind of flower," or "how caring," or "which Star Wars character" you are? How boring. If you can't think of anything interesting to say, filling up space in your blog with lame quiz results is not going to make it any more entertaining to read.
Maybe I would feel differently about quizzes if they were something cool that I could relate to. Perhaps something like these...
The problem is that even cool quizzes become lame when they are plastered on half the blogs on the internet. Keeping that in mind, I prefer the solution that Jeff came up with over at Geekable...
Yep, that pretty much sums it up.
UPDATE: Two-and-a-half months of people begging for this to be a real quiz later, and I relented. you can read about the "real" Fart Quiz here.
I read in the news today that McDonalds is phasing out the "SuperSize" menu items, and will have eliminated them entirely by the end of the year. Since I have never once purchased anything SuperSized, I can't say this affects me much. Heck, since McDonalds refuses to sell thier McVeggie Deluxe burger outside of their Times Square restaurant, it's not like I eat there often anyway.
I never really understood the concept of "SuperSizing" in the first place. Who can eat such a huge amount of food? Even if you can eat that much food... is it really healthy to eat so much of this food?
Maybe the idea is for the people who SuperSize to grow into the food they're eating... that way the SuperSize foods will eventually seem normal sized by comparison?
Here's the burning question that's been on my mind for years... at McDonalds you can SuperSize fat-drenched potatoes, you can SuperSize carbonated sugar syrup... but you can't SuperSize a salad or an orange juice? Why is it that the healthier the food is, the more it costs and the less of it you get? How can people afford to eat healthy when crap foods at fast food joints are so ridiculously cheap?
I suppose when you have a heart attack and end up in the hospital, or end up taking drugs for high cholesterol, that you end up paying more for a bad diet after all. If that's the choice, I think I'll go ahead and pay more up front rather than letting doctors and drug companies collect it on the back-end.
UPDATE: I got an e-mail telling me about a movie called "Super Size Me" about a filmmaker who are nothing but McDonalds food for an entire month. As a result, he gained 24 pounds, and had his cholesterol level rise 65 points(!). Yikes!
Well, my motorcycle is all fixed over in Seattle... turns out it wasn't a major leak, but instead some sort of oil switch that gave out. My big plan was to hitch a ride over to the coast with a friend tomorrow morning and ride back in the afternoon. Problem is, the weather is not being very cooperative:
It's supposed to snow all night on the mountain passes, which means that even if the weather clears up, all the sand and gravel that was dumped on the road over the evening will make the roads a mess. I don't want my first distance ride to end with an accident, so I've decided to pay a company $65 to haul it over next week sometime. Oh well. Better safe than very, very sorry.
That was the bad news. Here's the good news... Martha Stewart has been found GUILTY on four counts related to her insider trading scandal. This means that unless she wins an appeal, she will be facing some serious jail time. It's a good thing!
Here's hoping that her television show, magazine, home furnishing line, and the rest of her boring, sanitized empire goes down the toilet with her. Do I loathe Martha Stewart because she is a "money-grubbing bitch" (which is what a male-dominated business world labels any woman who dares to be successful)? No, I loathe Martha Stewart because she is a raging psycho who takes credit for the work of her staff and passes it off as a lifestyle that is all but unobtainable to those that worship her (well, unless you also have unlimited funds and a small army of people working their asses off to ensure your life is fabulous). I can only hope that Martha's fans will eventually realize that her beautiful and perfect life was nothing but an elaborate façade whose real purpose was not to enrich the lives of others, but make her very wealthy. Life is better when everything in it doesn't have a price tag attached.
I've never really had reason to fear the dentist. Whenever people would talk about how much they hate going to the dentist, I would just smile politely and puzzle over what was so terrible about it. After all, for my entire life, I've never had any dental problems... no cavities... no root canals... nothing interesting at all. I always took care of my teeth, so a trip to the dentist was like a vacation with minty-freshness at the end.
Until recently, that is.
Now everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. This morning I had abnormally deep grooves in my back teeth routed out and re-filled with a bizarre tooth-like substance. All I have to show for it is a shiny new green toothbrush, dental floss, and an aching jaw.
Now I know exactly what people have been fearing about the dentist all along. Huge needles, horrible tastes in my mouth, and kick-ass grinding and suction noises. It goes something like this...
It is not a pleasant experience. Though I imagine it could have been worse...
Dental Assistant Lady: Would you like gas?
Dental Assistant Lady: Yes, it will help you relax.
What Dave is thinking: AAAACK! YES, GIVE ME THE f#@%ING GAS!! GIVE IT TO ME NOW BEFORE I USE YOUR HEAD LIKE A BATTERING RAM TO BREAK THROUGH THE WINDOW AND ESCAPE THIS TORTURE CHAMBER!!! GIVE ME! GIVE ME! GIVE MEEEEE!
What Dave says: Gas sound great, thanks.
Since I didn't end up killing anybody, I guess that gas stuff must really work. If you have to be tortured by a dentist, I highly recommend it.
Finally, I had a most excellent weekend! Some friends had invited me to see Ron "Tater Salad" White's stand-up comedy show in Seattle and, since he was the funniest part of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour DVD, I very much wanted to go. Comedians usually repeat their material over and over, so I was guessing that most of his show I would have already seen on the DVD, but this was not the case with Mr. White. Most of the show was entirely new material, with only two bits (and the encore) being something I had already heard.
Since the name of his show was the Drunk in Public Tour, it seemed only fitting that we were drunk to see it. I don't know whether that was a contributing factor, but the show was funny. Of course, the only problem with spending your night amazingly drunk, is the hangover you get the next morning. Fortunately, we tried a new "dietary supplement" called "Chaser" that claims to eliminate hangovers entirely. Surprisingly enough, it actually worked for some of us (including me!). No spinning room, headache, body aches, dry heaves, nothing! That's pretty cool. It's a shame I don't drink very often anymore, because it's sure a lot more fun without a hangover!
One of my intentions for this weekend was to drink enough that I could pass out and finally get some sleep. Unfortunately, our drink of choice was a Jäger Bomber, which made getting any sleep impossible. A Jäger Bomber is a chilled glass half-filled with Red Bull that you then drop a shot glass filled with Jägermeister into. Since Red Bull is a high-energy drink that is specially formulated to keep you awake and energized, having seven Jäger Bombers with beer backs and a Long Island Iced Tea means I was even more awake that usual.
Anyway, after a lovely two-hour drive home, it's now 2:00 PM, and I still haven't been to bed yet. Here's hoping I can manage a quick nap before Alias comes on at 9:00!
I'd say it was the luck of the Irish because I've just been told my motorcycle is arriving today, but I don't think I have any Irish in me... it's mostly Dutch and German and stuff. Oh well, I will take luck where I can find it.
Happy St. Patrick's Day.
So today I am thirty-eight years old. Wheeee. Probably more interesting than my birthday today are the others who share it with me... famous magician Harry Houdini, really cool designer William Morris, actor Steve McQueen, entertainer Fatty Arbuckle, Whale Rider girl Keisha Castle-Hughes, bizarro lawyer/talk-show host/shoe salesman Star Jones, Vice President and official dancing monkey-boy for Microsoft Steve Ballmer, and comedian Louie Anderson.
Most important of all birthdays is MacOS X, which turns three years old today. If it weren't for the Mac, I'd be forced to use the virus-ridden, bug-filled, security-challenged crap-fest known as Microsoft Windows and for that I am eternally grateful.
Anyway, thanks to everybody who was kind enough to send me birthday greetings today (some of which were certainly more uhhhh... "unique" than others). Here's hoping I live to see thirty-nine.
UPDATE: Apparently there is an even more famous birthday today than myself, Star Jones, and MacOS X... Ore-Ida Tater Tots turn fifty years old today! How cool is that?
I can just tell that this is going to be a difficult day because the morning has already gone all pear-shaped. Getting out of bed I stubbed my toe. Starting the shower I splashed water all over the floor. Then I went to brush my teeth and found that I was out of toothpaste. Usually this would not be a big deal... I keep a complete travel kit in my luggage, so I figured I would just take the toothpaste I keep there. Unfortunately, I forgot that I had already taken the toothpaste from my luggage when I ran out the last time. So now there is no toothpaste to be found.
First I try brushing my teeth with a Listerine FreshBurst strip. But that just makes a mess. That's when I remember reading somewhere that you can brush your teeth with baking soda. Fortunately, I had once made a grievous error at the market and purchased baking soda instead of baking powder to make biscuits... so I knew that there was a box in my cupboard.
For those of you who have never made the mistake of attempting to brush your teeth with baking soda, here is pretty much how it goes...
Now I know what evil must taste like. The bit they forget to tell you about using baking soda to brush your teeth is that it tastes like ass. It's kind of a strange bitter/salty chemical taste that will burn through your skull and drive you insane. Even worse, the taste does not go away... it lingers like horrifying memory that you are forced to relive again and again.
I think I will buy a dozen tubes of toothpaste after work so that I never make a mistake like this again.
According to my Buddhist studies, a primary concept in living a harmonious life is to do no harm. Since I am pretty sure that this includes not killing innocent animals, I am of mixed feelings when it comes to wearing leather. On one hand, it's kind of sad that an animal has to die in order for me to have a pair of boots and a jacket... on the other hand, leather offers amazing protection (which is a big deal if you ever take a spill on your motorcycle and have the pavement attempt to remove several layers of your skin).
Sadly, I rather favor my own skin over that of a cow, so I'm afraid the cow is out of luck. Of course, if the cow is already dead because meat-loving carnivores have eaten it... well, that's hardly my fault now is it?
Not only that, but wearing a leather jacket while riding a motorcycle also looks much cooler... even in a cartoon drawing.
Anyway, my mind made up, I decided to see if there is a custom leather shop in Seattle that might have jackets in tall sizes that would fit me better than the jackets bought off the rack. Thanks to the internet, you would think that finding a leather jacket shop in Seattle would be simple. You would be wrong. If you search for "Seattle Leather" in Google, you do end up with leather shops in the Seattle area... but they are not quite the leather garb I had in mind for riding my motorcycle...
Scary. I'm not quite sure where to go from here.
What in the hell is going on? Last time I checked, the first amendment of the Bill of Rights from the Constitution of the United States of America ensures freedom of speech for all its citizens. Apparently, this is only true if you support the ever-growing "public decency" madness propagated by the increasingly scary Bush administration. It does not apply to people like Howard Stern who are critical of it.
In shocking, but unsurprising news, Howard Stern has been fired. His show is the same as it's always been... vulgar, offensive, and loaded with sex... but all of a sudden it's no longer acceptable to air on public airwaves. It's a-okay for Oprah to discuss rim-jobs and rainbow party oral sex on her television show without penalty, but Stern gets fined and fired?
HELPFUL HINT: if you find something on the radio objectional or offensive, you can change the f#@%ing channel or turn the blasted thing off! Not everybody has the same morals or tastes in entertainment as you. Some folks actually enjoy listening to that kind of thing. This being America and all, people should be entitled to listen to Stern even if you happen hate him.
Where does this end? Will it ever end? How long before the movies I love, the books I enjoy, the television shows I watch... how long before they are taken away?
I should preface this entry with the disclaimer that I abhor violence... I really do. I think that anybody who resorts to violence is pretty damn stupid because they couldn't find a better solution. That being said, I am at the end of my rope and want a gun. But, unlike most gun-toting morons that end up in the news for shooting somebody for no good reason at all, I actually have a good reason...
I want to blow away all the morons who don't understand the concept of KEEP RIGHT EXCEPT TO PASS.
Here's a typical scenario... I'm driving home from Seattle yesterday and SEVERAL TIMES come across this:
The dumbass is driving in the PASSING LANE but is NOT PASSING ANYBODY!! They're in the WRONG lane and won't move over (WHICH IS AGAINST THE LAW) because they are just too damn ignorant to know their left from their right. People like this are too stupid to be driving... probably too stupid to be living, and so I think it should be within my legal right to take care of the situation with a big-ass gun. If I have to pass your lame ass on the right, then you deserve to have your shit ruined...
Furthermore, if they are in the wrong lane AND driving under the speed limit then not only should they be taken out... but I should be able to hunt down their entire family because this is obviously some sort of genetic defect that should be eliminated for the good of society.
"KEEP RIGHT EXCEPT TO PASS" is pretty self-explanatory, so what's the problem? As usual, it boils down to people being stupid. Isn't it about time we do something about this ever-growing problem on America's highways?
UPDATE: I was e-mailed a link devoted to exposing and reporting "Left Lane Dicks!" Not only that, but a quick Google search reveals all kinds of rants by people fed up with these morons. Apparently I am not alone.
UPDATE: Was just sent a link to an excellent site, which allows you to see if your state has lane laws like Washington. Visit "Drive Right, Pass Left".
I like to take IQ tests because (believe it or not) I seem to be good at them. The problem is that everybody has a different way of measuring IQ, so any results you might get are entirely subjective. When I was in college, I took an official Mensa test and ended up with an IQ of 140-something (which was good enough to join, since you only need a 130 or better). That was sweet validation for the many people who refer to me as a "smart ass" because I had physical evidence that my ass was indeed smarter than many people on the planet (the average IQ is said to be 100).
There are numerous IQ societies around the globe, some of which are more demanding than others... like the Mega Society, which requires a one-in-a-million score of 175 to join. While nowhere near that level, I do manage to score between 130 and 140 on the IQ tests I take which means I have half the qualifications toward being an evil genius (I really do need to work on that "evil" part).
The holy grail of intelligence societies is the"world's most exclusive" -- the Giga Society, which makes Mensa members seem like drooling idiots because they require a one-in-a-billion IQ of 196 or higher to join. From their crappy web site (which looks as though it was designed by somebody with an IQ of 2), it would seem that they have only 6 members world-wide.
And why, you might ask, am I rambling on about IQ societies? Simple. I want to start my own intelligence society. Intrigued? Then you too may be qualified to join... all you need to do is pass the DaveQ test:
A) Pull out in front of the motorcycle because you drive an SUV and are much bigger that they are.
B) Pull out in front of the motorcycle and then say: "What motorcycle? I was talking on my mobile phone as I turned into the intersection and didn't see any motorcycle!"
C) Respect the right of motorcyclists to exist, and kindly wait until they clear the intersection before pulling out.
In case you are wondering, the correct answer is "C." Did you pass? If you did, CONGRATULATIONS! Your stunning intelligence gives you a DaveQ of 1000! Take pride in the fact that you are smarter than 90% of motorists out there, and know that motorcyclists around the globe are grateful to have people like you sharing the road.
And now, to those of you who didn't pass... STAY OFF THE f#@%ING ROADS DUMBASS!! After two weeks of travel and endless work with no time to ride my motorcycle, I finally get a chance yesterday and experienced BOTH option "A" (moron pulls in front of me just because he won't be damaged in his gigantic gas-guzzling SUV if there's an accident) and option "B" (oblivious mobile-phone using bitch nearly broadsides me because she's too stupid to be driving and talking at the same time).
Life can really suck because PEOPLE ARE STUPID! Who am I to judge? Just a smart-ass with a genius-level IQ.
What's your favorite electronic gadget that you own? Probably my iPod. It's amazing how I can carry around my entire music collection (so sweet while traveling). Which gadget do you wish you owned but don't? I want a mobile phone with a camera on it (like the SonyEricsson K700, my dream phone) so I can start a moblog.
What gadget do you wish somebody would invent so you could have one? A wireless power transformer, so my laptop can charge from any room in the apartment without being plugged into an outlet. That would be really cool. Which gadget do you wish had never been invented at all? Whatever it is in mobile phones that allow polyphonic ringtones to exist...
Do you consider yourself an electronic gadget junkie? Absolutely. How many gadgets are around/on you right now? At least a dozen. Looking around, I see 1) Apple iPod, 2) Motorola V60i mobile phone, 3) GameBoy Advance, 4) XboX, 5) DVD recorder, 6) Japanese to English Translator, 7) Canon EOS Digital Rebel Camera, 8) Canon Powershot IXUS 400 Camera, 9) Pocket Hard Drive, 10) Apple Airport Base Station, 11) Apple iSight A/V Chat Camera, 12) Apple Wireless Mouse & Keyboard.
FQ DARE: Reveal a trendy gadget you bought, but are now embarrassed to own/have owned. There are so many. Probably the worst was a $450 Sony Clie PDA... I thought it would change my life, but tossed it in a drawer after having owned it for just a week. It's not only embarrassing to think I was so enamored with it, but also a colossal waste of money and I should have known better. A close second would have to be my first MP3 Player which could only hold a maximum of 6 songs... totally useless, but I bought it anyway.
So here I am in Milwaukee, finally. I figured since the Holiday Inn Milwaukee Airport is charging me for the room I never got to use, I might as well stop by, have a shower, catch up with my e-mail, take a nap, and get into some clean clothes before heading off to work. It's a shame I will never be staying at this hotel again, because it's pretty sweet.
All in all, this trip has really sucked so far. And while you might think that being stuck in Detroit without my luggage would be the worst part, you would be wrong. The worst part is being stuck next to a woman on a plane who does not know how to shut up for five hours. They won't let you take a gun on board a plane, so I wonder how else you could get rid of somebody annoying?
I dunno... do they let you take "pet" anacondas on a plane? I see people bringing their yappy little dogs with them on the plane all the time, so perhaps an anaconda would be okay?
It's not that I am anti-social or anything... really, I do like people. But some people need to understand that it is not necessary to talk continuously for hours on end to complete strangers (especially when said stranger is not allowed to be part of the conversation). This woman was insane. Even the most simple question requiring a yes or no answer would take five to ten minutes for her to reply. A perfect example:
Flight Attendant: Would you like a glass of water?
Noisy Woman: I brought water with me but it's gotten warm. Is that water cold? It is? Well then I would love to have a glass of water. Oh my gawd, I drink SOOOOO much water! Ha ha! I drink so much water that people must think I am part camel! But I love a glass of cool water! Doesn't everybody love a cool glass of water? Most people would rather have soda or coffee or something, but not me! Oh my gawd, it's water water water water for me! So once you've finished getting everybody else a glass, be sure to stop back by me because I'll be wanting more water! Ha ha ha ha haaaaaaa!
Flight Attendant: Uh. Okay.
It never fails. The universal laws of airline travel demand that once things go wrong, they will continue to go wrong. First I get to Milwaukee a day-and-a-half late because my flight ran into weather problems. Now I am trying to get home, and the odds are not looking so good.
At Milwaukee this morning, three flights in a row were cancelled or delayed due to mechanical difficulties. That sure makes you feel safe when entrusting your life to Northwest Airlines! THREE FLIGHTS... including my own to Minneapolis.
After my flight was delayed indefinitely (hydraulics problems), they re-booked me on a different flight to Minneapolis. The connecting flight to Seattle is very tight (just 15 minutes) but they tell me I should be able to make it. Well, I probably could have except we had a small problem landing...
Apparently, there was another plane on the runway, and the pilot didn't feel like landing on top of him, so we almost landed, then took off again. I sure hope the dumbass traffic control moron was fired for that. Even with the additional 10 minutes required to circle back around the airport, I still had a shot of getting to my Seattle flight on time...
By the time we finally got to the gate, my chances were very slim, but it was still possible... until they couldn't get the jetway to move to the door, wasting yet another precious five minutes!!
What the hell? Not only does Northwest have problems keeping a schedule, but all their planes are breaking down, nearly running into each other on the runway and, assuming you ever get to where you are going, you can't get off the plane because the jetways are busted (this is the third time that's happened)?!? As if the security, tiny seating areas, and overcrowding weren't sucky enough?
So now I am stuck in Minneapolis. I may get out at 5:17... perhaps 7:18... or maybe not at all today. This is not the first time that Northwest Airlines has completely screwed up a trip, and probably won't be the last. Oh well, it's still better than my luck with United.
Next time I'm flying Hooters! That way, when things go wrong it won't suck as bad because at least you will have Hooter Girls to entertain you.
Blogography does not currently accept advertising but, on occasion, I do like to whore myself out as an unofficial spokesman for products, people, and services I really like... thus the Dave Approved category is born, and my first entry is a good one. If you've read this blog for a while, you already know that I have a "thing" about toothpaste. So when I say I've found a brand I really like, you should totally trust me: Crest Whitening Expressions is the bestest toothpaste ever! This stuff is so good that I'd pour it over my breakfast cereal if the fluoride weren't poisonous to ingest...
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go brush my teeth again.
UPDATE: I just learned that they've released a new flavor: French Vanilla Mint! Sounds delicious. I wonder how it will compare to Herbal Mint, Cinnamon Rush, and Citrus Breeze? Ends up the answer is "not very well." It's not bad, but tastes kind of like a mint antacid or drinking milk after you had a breath mint.
My life is pretty boring right now (work... ride motorcycle... repeat) so there's just not very many interesting things for me to blog about ("interesting" being a relative term, of course). This morning while in the shower I started thinking about things I could blog about. I could write about the brand of shampoo I use, obviously, or perhaps even how I get rid of soap scum in the tub. But surely there's something more... something captivating and exciting. Something that's actually worth people's valuable time to read.
And then it occurred to me: I would have tons of cool crap to blog about if I had a million dollars!
Somebody could give me a million dollars (PayPal accepted) and I could blog about how I spend it!!
I know, I know... before you go sending me a million dollars, there are few questions you have. Well never fear, that's what I am here for...
If I give you a million dollars, how do I know that you will really blog about it?
I blog about brushing my teeth for crying out loud, do you actually think I wouldn't blog about spending a million dollars?
Yeah, but how do I know you won't blow it all on something crazy and I'll only get one blog entry out of the deal?
Because I'm just not that stupid. It's not like I'd give it all to a foundation for bat guano research or pay Elizabeth Hurley a million dollars to sleep with me or something. Oh no, your million dollars guarantees you years of fabulous blog entries!
Just how long will it take you to spend it then?
Say... do you really think Elizabeth Hurley would sleep with me for a million dollars? Nah, you're right, she'll love me because I'm such a wonderful person, not because of how much money I have.
What exactly will you do with the million once I give it to you?
I don't know, and that's what's so cool about it: we'll find out together! Some of it will be going to charity (that's just how it works when you get a lot of money) but the rest will probably be spent doing interesting things, meeting interesting people, and buying cool crap. Whatever happens, you'll read about it right here!
I don't trust PayPal with my money, can I send you a certified check?
But of course! Wire transfers, bearer bonds, and gold bouillon are also perfectly acceptable.
Great! I am a Nigerian businessman with ten million dollars in oil prospecting revenue stuck in a bank. If you pay the $100,000 release fee, I'll give you a million of it!
Didn't I already mention that I'm not stupid? If I'm going to toss away massive amounts of money, I'd rather send it to Ze Frank.
But I love your blog just how it is! If I give you a million dollars, won't you change and not be the same person anymore?
Nah, that would never happen. I'll be the same guy I've always been, just with a lot more money. No sir, a million dollars won't change me one bit!
This is just a scam to get me to pay you a million dollars isn't it?!? Uhhh... you obviously haven't read much of my blog. This is just a joke*.
*not that I'm saying I would refuse it if somebody offered me a million dollars, mind you.
Girls know him as that whiny bitch from Somewhere in Time. Guys know him as the world's greatest hero: Superman (my favorite comic book movie adaptation of all time). I can only hope that Christoper Reeve's passing (as Marlon Brando's before it) will lighten some hearts and finally halt the legal battles that are preventing Richard Donner's original cut of Superman II from being released. What a wonderful tribute it would be if Reeve's intended performance could finally be seen as it was meant to be.
Christopher Reeve made us all believe a man could fly. Now it's his turn.
Rest in peace.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! I have ranted numerous times about the horror that is Microsoft Internet Explorer (the most recent is here). Simply put, if you are using IE, then you are probably not viewing huge chunks of the internet as it was intended. You are certainly not seeing this blog the way it was intended. For reasons that remain a complete mystery to me, Microsoft simply does not care that their browser renders pages incorrectly. For the longest time, I thought it was my fault... something in my CSS or HTML is bad. But every browser I check... EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM... renders the pages exactly right. They may look a little different, but they are at least laid out correctly. If this is my fault, then why does it work properly on all these other browsers, including Internet Explorer for the Macintosh?!?
So, when I receive a comment at BlogExplosion like this:
"I like the site and words but the format needs work too much scrolling to the left and right to read."
I go absolutely insane...
If people don't like my blog and leave a low rating or a comment about hating it BECAUSE OF THE CONTENT, that's fine and I have no problem with it. Everybody is entitled to their opinion. But to have people's experience be tainted with Microsoft's sloppy-ass browser that causes horizontal scrolling WHERE THERE SHOULDN'T BE ANY... well, I go nuts. It's not fair to me. It's not fair to my visitors. It's just not fair. But, since Microsoft has a monopoly on the way the internet is displayed because of their huge dominance with Internet Explorer, it doesn't matter. I'm going to have to be the one to try and figure out what's going wrong. Fair or not, it's my problem.
At least I know what I'll be doing this weekend. If you are using Internet Explorer on a Windows machine and want to see what the site looks like when rendered correctly on the top-five Mac browsers (no horizontal scrolling!), then follow the link below where I've put up thumbnails (or you could always go get a better browser, and see for yourself):→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
Hooray! The Mozilla Firefox browser has finally reached 1.0 release! If you're a MacOS X user like me, you're probably perfectly happy using Safari to browse the web... but there's always that occasional site that doesn't seem to work properly, which is why it's good to have Firefox sitting in your Applications folder. It's fast, friendly, does a great job, and may just become your browser of choice.
Of course, if you're a Microsoft Windows victim that's been suffering with Internet Explorer, then Firefox is a dream come true... it's a superior product in every way that will finally display the web the way designers meant for it to be seen, and protect you from spyware and other nastiness the IE invites. Go download it right away.
Happy as I am, I have to admit that every time I read some blog saying "FIREFOX IS OUT," something entirely different comes to mind...
Or maybe this...
Or perhaps this...
Congratulations to the entire Mozilla team for a job well done!
In response to Tonya's entry (in the ever-excellent Adventure Journalist blog) about her dogs and their morning wake-up routine for her, I sketched out a cartoon and emailed it off. Now she's posted it to her blog, so you can go take a look if you are so inclined. I'm always amazed at how women can so easily manipulate us men, and figured that it probably extended into the dog-world as well.
Click here for Tonya's original entry. And then here for the cartoon strip I sent.
Hang in there Nanook, my oppressed canine brother!
As anybody who attempts to link to an image on Blogography has found out, I have enabled hotlink protection for my site. I pretty much had to after some dumbass linked to a photo here (without asking) on a SlashDotted entry and ran my bandwidth allotment into the ground. I figure that if somebody is going to be using my images without permission, they might as well copy it to their own server instead of forcing me to host my content for them. It's not that I really care that people are taking my stuff (though giving credit to me when they do is always nice), it just seems lame for me to be expected to pay for it as well.
Since I was in an ass-drawing mood after creating my "fart quiz" yesterday, I went ahead and re-designed the image people see if they link to anything without asking first...
So yes, in effect, I am telling people who try and steal my bandwidth that they can kiss my ass. Still, it's pretty tame when you think about it. I could have used a photo of an actual ass (or something far, far worse). There are exceptions... a girl was making a site for a school project and wrote me a polite email asking if she could use the photo of a teddy bear I had posted... so natually I said "yes" and added her site to my list of allowed links. It's not a big deal really, I would probably be glad to do this for most anybody if they had a good enough reason for wanting me to do so.
And then I received an email from some ass-clown this morning ripping me to pieces because they were humiliated when they linked to one of my images in a Christian fellowship forum (a photo of a cool cherub statue at the Vatican). "You've destroyed my reputation and I should sue!"
Yeah, I thought that was pretty funny too, so I replied:
"Let me get this straight. You steal an image from me without asking permission, fail to give me credit for said image, and then threaten to sue me because you're not a very clever thief? Just exactly how big of a dumbass are you?"
To say that this did not go over very well is an understatement, because they wrote back and apparently I am now going to hell.
Whatever. I must have read the Christian Bible wrong, because I'm pretty sure there's something in there along the lines of "thou shalt not steal thy neighbor's bandwidth" (I could be wrong though, I'm a Buddhist after all).
I am to the point right now where I quite honestly don't know what to make of American society. We've become a nation of hypocrisy that defies all logic to understand, but so long as it's labeled "conservatism" everybody seems to be onboard with it. I don't know whether to laugh or cry, but it's become so annoying that what I really want to do is beat the crap out of somebody.
(Then submit a video of said beating to America's Funniest Home Videos so I can win $10,000).
Today's rant brought to you by your friends at the FCC, this country's first and last defense of common decency!
The Federal Communications Commission was founded in 1934 to regulate communications via radio, television, wire, satellite, and cable. Unfortunately, the same prude bitches that formed the committee in 1934 are apparently still in charge. So let's see... assuming the average age of its membership back in the beginning was 35, that would make them 106-years-old today.
And there you have it! That explains everything! The most popular show on television is CSI: Crime Scene Investigation which regularly features graphic depictions of gore and violence. The most popular new show on television is Desperate Housewives which regularly features graphic depictions of sex, sexual innuendo, and sex. Yet the FCC has no problem at all with such programming. What they do have a problem with is a nipple on a breast flashed on the screen for 5 seconds (FINED!). They don't have a problem with Oprah discussing oral anal sex, but they do have a problem with Howard Stern discussing the same subject (FINED!). It's random bullshit that even a genius couldn't figure out (I should know... I am a genius, and I sure can't).
To me, this is compelling evidence that the FCC is indeed staffed by 106-year-old geriatric, senile, ass-clowns just as I suspected! They don't know what they hell they're doing because they've lost all cognitive ability. Their brains simply don't work anymore. The lights are on, but nobody is home. And because of this, television networks live in fear.
Case in point: Showing a cartoon with a naked ass in 1965: ACCEPTABLE. Showing a cartoon with a naked ass in 2003: ACCEPTABLE. Showing a cartoon with a naked ass in 2005: WHO THE f#@% KNOWS! And that's why FOX television decided to blur out the cartoon ass on a cartoon character in a cartoon show (the brilliant Family Guy) in a recent cartoon airing. A CARTOON! They have no idea if such a thing will get them fined, so they're having to play it safe so that an organization who controls what we are allowed to watch won't punish them.
And that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. f#@% the FCC for being outrageously inconsistent and generally STUPID. f#@% FOX Television for being such pu$$ies. f#@% EVERYBODY ELSE for allowing stupid shit like this to happen in the first place. What's next? The internet is communication and under FCC jurisdiction... so will the dumbasses decide that web content needs to be regulated? Well, better safe than sorry! From now on, all nude cartoon representations of myself will be appropriately censored...
And, as another public service for conservative America, here's a clue: IF WHAT'S ON TELEVISION OFFENDS YOUR HYPOCRITICAL ASS, THEN GET RID OF YOUR f#@%ING TELEVISION! OBVIOUSLY YOU'RE NOT SMART ENOUGH TO TURN SOMETHING OFF WHEN IT BOTHERS YOU, SO DO US ALL A FAVOR AND JUST DON'T WATCH IT!! That way, we can abolish the FCC, and let advertising dollars and television ratings dictate what stupid crap is aired on TV... exactly as the founding fathers of this country intended.
For weeks now I have been wanting to cook up a batch of my delicious cheese-n-rice enchiladas (based on my grandmother's original recipe), but it's a 2-hour ordeal and makes one heck of a mess in the kitchen. Unfortunately, I don't have that kind of time. Tonight was no different, but I just didn't care. If I didn't do it tonight, it wouldn't happen anytime soon... certainly not before I leave for Europe. So screw it, everything else in my stressful life can just wait.
But then the terror starts to settle in.
According to my "100 Things," I am most afraid of deep water, heights, and freaky bugs. But there is one things that tops all of those: my Cuisinart food processor. Or, as I prefer to call it, THE WHIRLING BLADES OF CERTAIN DEATH!!. I am mortified at the very thought of having to use that thing.
But when a recipe calls for a two full pounds of grated cheese, you really don't have much choice. To grate it by hand would take weeks. So, with adequate precautions in place, I face my deepest fear...
And twenty seconds later, Cuisinart has decimated my brick of cheese into tidy shreds. After unplugging this foul mechanical demon, I'm off to make enchiladas. Two hours after that, a delicious fiesta of exotic delights ensues.
But that's not going to keep me from having nightmares tonight. -sob!-
My new iPod Shuffle arrived, but I didn't had time to open it up and play with it until today. In a word: it's brilliant!
Don't get me wrong, I love my original iPod (and really love the 40 gigabytes of storage) but, as small as it is, the thing can still be a little cumbersome to travel with. Usually what I end up doing is selecting a playlist, putting it on shuffle, and then dropping it in my pocket. But then you have a heavy pocket and must be careful that you don't let it fall out when you bend over, as that could be an expensive mistake.
iPod Shuffle, on the other hand, is so light-weight as to be almost unnoticeable. It comes with a lanyard that makes walking around with it safe, comfortable, and effortless.
Some people will undoubtedly bitch about the lack of a display but, since I only use the display to select a playlist on my iPod original, I don't really care (besides, that would just add size and weight). The gigabyte of memory only has room for a single playlist anyway, so I already know what I'm getting when I turn it on. Selecting a new playlist is as easy as plugging your iPod Shuffle back into your computer and dragging a different one over. There's also a cool "auto-fill" feature which will randomly grab selections from your library until the memory is full. This is a great way to re-discover songs you may have forgotten or don't play very often.
There is one downside, however: Apple decided to use a USB 2.0 connector instead of FireWire (which is what they used on all previous iPods). This wouldn't bother me except that Apple only recently began supporting USB 2.0, so not a single machine I own has it. This sucks ass, because transferring a gigabyte over USB 1.0 is slow. Really slow. Oh well, it does give the unit enough time to recharge.
Anyway, I am totally loving the iPod Shuffle. Especially since the iTunes Music Store just released Erasure's excellent new album Nightbird and Billy Idol's new pre-release single called Scream. Apple rules.
UPDATE: Now that's cool... I just noticed the shuffle/cycle settings are dynamic! All my playlists are in order by artist, so if I am listening on the "shuffle" setting, come across a song from The Cure, then decide I want to hear more from The Cure, all I have to do is switch to the "cycle" setting and play their remaining songs in order. Then I can go back to "shuffle" again with a flick of a switch! It's the attention to little details like this that makes me such an Apple whore.
Given that this is my only full day in the city, I had made detailed plans as to how I wanted to spend it. I wrote down everything I wanted to see, then mapped from point to point, ensuring that I had the most efficient route planned. This is not the way I enjoy sightseeing, I loathe time-structured travel but, given my time constraints, it was the only thing I could do.
Museu Picasso: Most people only associate Pablo Picasso with his later, more surreal and abstract art. What seems to be overlooked is his earlier and equally brilliant works, forming a foundation from which his methods and stylistic choices were built. While a very nice museum, I actually think that Picasso is better represented in other venues I've seen. I was, however, blown away by a temporary exhibit of Alberto Magnelli works. This artist has a huge influence over my own painting efforts, and I was beside myself with excitement when I realized he was showing here. I've never seen so many of his works in one place, and cannot believe my good fortune in having seen this exhibit (it ends on Sunday!!). Sometimes I am the luckiest person on the planet.
The Arc del Triomf: A beautiful structure, and part of my effort to see city arches whenever I find them.
The Sagrada Familia: This was the most important thing on my list to see. To me, Gaudi is Barcelona, and this Modernista architectural marvel is his undisputed masterpiece even though it remains unfinished to this day, and he died before much was done on it. Wherever you look you see beauty in every form and, once it has been completed, I will be returning to Barcelona to see it (hopefully it will be finished in my lifetime!). Despite my extreme fear of heights, I took the lift to the top, and did my best to subdue my terror so I could look out over the city and better inspect the cathedral.
Casa Mila: Another Modernista wonder by Gaudi, Casa Mila is a bizarre structure, yet undeniably beautiful. There's something almost sinister about a building with no straight lines, but it somehow comes together as a compelling work of art.
Fundacio Joan Miro: I will admit I am not a Miro fan. On the contrary, I pretty much dislike every piece of "art" I've ever seen of his. Unlike Picasso, I never get the feeling that there's any talent behind his artistic endeavors, and they don't evoke any sort of emotional response either. All I see is a bunch of paint slopped on a canvas for no discernible reason. I did enjoy his "Barcelona Series" of lithographs, which are amusing doodles... almost cartoon-like in nature, but that was about it.
Museu Frederic Mares: This has to be one of the strangest museums I've ever seen. Mares collected very specific subjects, and being able to contrast and compare dozens of different versions inspired by the same source is enlightening. For example, where most museums would be content with one or two carvings of Jesus on the cross, Mares decided to show hundreds of them. All somewhat the same, but very different at the same time.
Salvador Dali: There wasn't time to visit Teatro-Museo Dali in Girona, but I was sure to stop by the exhibition here in Barcelona. Dali did so much more than the "melting clocks" that made him famous, and a nice chunk of that was on display, along with Dali photographs and sculpture.
All in all, a very full day that had me bouncing from one corner of the city to the other. Fortunately, Barcelona has an excellent public transportation, anchored by a terrific subway system. This allowed me to see everything on my list, and a few extra sights along the way. Only problem is that my legs are hurting from all the walking, and I am completely exhausted. I'd go to bed early and try to recover, but I'm meeting a friend for dinner and don't want to miss that!
When I was younger, I was afflicted with migraine headaches of crippling magnitudes. The worst part was never the actual mind-splitting headache, but instead the butt-numbing demerol shots I would have to take when the pain got to be too much. The shots had nauseating side-effects that could last for a week or more. So it was always a toss-up as to whether I choose the nausea from pain or worse nausea from medication. Usually I would just ride it out.
But then I became a vegetarian, started meditating, and migraines became a thing of the past. Or maybe I just outgrew them... I don't really know. Now it is a rare event indeed when I am stricken, and I consider myself very fortunate that I get a 2-3 year reprieve between episodes. They are usually triggered by a physical event, like throwing my back out or getting food poisoning.
Well, on the flight back from Europe, I must have slept wrong on my neck and it ended up all jacked-up. The migraine followed while driving home in crap weather and concentrating on finding the road for four hours. It's now two days later, and it's still with me. So now the debate rages on... go get the shot in the ass and be throwing up the rest of the week... or hope it goes away in the next day or two. In any event, the longer I wait, the longer I have to feel like this every minute of the day and night:
Decisions, decisions, decisions.
If you've read my "100 Things About Me" page, you will know that I am not a big believer in astrology or any of that crap (see item #4). But I will admit that I find the Chinese Zodiac to be eerily accurate in describing my personality and whatnot. Since Girl On A Glide has asked "what's your sign?" - I though I might as well put it out there and let people draw their own conclusions.
As it turns out, I am a Fire Horse. From what I've read, this is a pretty good sign if you are a guy, but a very bad sign if you happen to be a woman. In Asia, girls born as Fire Horses are considered unlucky to the family who bore her, and catastrophic to any man who is unfortunate enough to fall in love with her (as her sign is thought to be an overly-assertive troublemaker). This is odd, because those are exactly the traits I seem to attract in a woman. You can read all about that in this extended entry if you should so choose...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
Turns out that Be Cool, while interesting in parts, is pretty much a retread of Get Shorty, but not as clever. Oh well, it was a nice diversion on a Sunday afternoon.
After the movie, I really wanted to take my motorcycle out, but I had some work that badly needed tending to. Unfortunately this would involve trying to fix my crap Windows XP system, because that's the crap OS that the crap software I need is crap required to run on. Since the only way to actually fix a Windows problem is to reformat the drive and reinstall everything, that's what I had to waste my time with. After finally getting everything running again (over an hour later), I got to work...
... only to find out that the program refuses to run under the new install. I played around trying to get it going for a couple of hours, but nothing I did worked out. All I managed to do was break the system AGAIN.
I can see now that there is truly only one solution for "fixing" Windows XP...
WTF?!? I mean, seriously. You can call me a Mac whore, Steve Job's bitch, or an arrogant Apple bastard... but my Mac ACTUALLY WORKS when I need to get something done. Windows XP is nothing but a bloated piece of shite that I spend more time working ON than I actually spend time working WITH. Why? Why do people who use Windows actually put up with this crap? Do you know the last time I had to reinstall the MacOS X on my laptop? NEVER!!!! It has been upgraded several times, but there's never been a reason to install the OS since the day MacOS X was released! On top of that, I never turn my PowerBook off... I just put it to sleep. My uptime is MONTHS, not mere days. If it weren't for updates and software installs, I'd probably NEVER have to reboot it.
So I just wasted an entire afternoon trying to get caught up, but instead get further behind AND missed an opportunity to ride. Just when I think Windows couldn't possibly suck more ass than it does, Microsoft proves me wrong.
Well, it would appear that I am going to have to turn comment moderation ON again, despite the fact that the new "MTKeystrokes" plugin is doing an amazing job of discarding comment spam from spam-bots. Last night I received a comment that was obviously trying to sell something. Sure it was hand-typed, and sure it related to my entry, but I have never allowed people to whore their wares here and I don't intend to start now. The only person allowed to be a whore here is me, and I don't like the competition. Get your own blog if you want to sell something.
It kind of makes me wish that I was able to clone my brain and hook it up to my blog so that it could approve and reject comments without me having to bother...
Of course, I think the massive genius of my clone brain would tire of such a mundane chore 24-7, and would probably go mad and become an evil brain monster. An evil brain monster to TAKE OVER THE WORLD!! MOOWAAAHHH HA HA HAAAA!
If you could own any item from any movie, what would you take and why? Well, I'd love to have my very own Gort robot from The Day the Earth Stood Still... how cool would that be? My dream of taking over the world would be a piece of cake with Gort there to kick everybody's asses. Or maybe some of the gadgets from the James Bond movies would be handy? Nah, I think the one thing I would want more than any other would be Mace Windu's purple lightsaber from the Star Wars prequels. That way I could open up a can of Samuel L. Jackson-style Jedi whoop-ass all over the stupid people who bug the crap out of me...
If you could become any character from any movie, who would it be and why? Dude! No question, it would be Indiana Jones! He got to run around the world having awesome adventures, finding treasure, and shooting Nazis and stuff! On top of that, if I were Indiana Jones I could literally whip somebody's ass with my bull-whip. That would totally rock...
If you could visit any location from any movie, where would it be and why? Probably inside The Matrix so I could fly around, shoot lots of guns, and go all kung-fu on people who cut me off in traffic...
FQ MOVIE MASH-UP: Combine some items, characters, and locations from different movies to create an entirely new film! What would you call it and what would it be about? I think I'd like to take the chain saw from Texas Chain Saw Massacre, the Alien from Alien, Jason from Friday The 13th, and put them on the ship Discovery with HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Then everybody could battle it out IN OUTER SPACE!! My master-work would then be ready to kick box-office ass and be called: Friday the 13th, 2001: An Alien Chainsaw Massaccre Odyssey. Brilliant! I'd pay serious bank to see that flick.
Be the movies at the FridayQ.
Well, the day has finally come to send in my PowerBook so that the worn-out latch can be repaired. This is very difficult for me, because she's been a constant companion for several years now. I don't know how I'm going to manage carrying on with my life without her by my side... even for this brief time. = sob! =
Is it too much to ask that everybody out there think happy thoughts for my PowerBook's full recovery, quick turnaround, and safe return?
Here's the letter I sent in with the repair...
Dear Apple Service,
I love this PowerBook. It has been around the world with me numerous times and we've been on many adventures together. Newer PowerBook models have come and gone, but my love for the classic Titanium G4 has not diminished.
I have tried my very best to care for my PowerBook by buying her nice padded cases and special cleaning cloths and screen wipes. I've always treated her gently and made sure she was never put in harm's way. Despite my efforts, the latch button has slowly worn out... it started by not latching securely from time to time, but now it won't latch at all, so I am unable to keep my beautiful PowerBook closed.
I am hopeful that you can find some way to repair her, as I would be heartbroken if I were forced to purchase a newer, bigger, clumsier, Aluminum PowerBook (I'm fairly certain that she doesn't want to be tossed in a dumpster either... she's grown quite fond of me as well, I can just tell).
They tell me at the Apple Store that my PowerBook is still under AppleCare protection. Her serial number is XXXXXXXXXXX, and the Administrative login is "XXXX" with the password being "XXXX" -- If you have any questions or require any further information, please don't hesitate to call me.
Many Thanks and Best Regards,
David Simmer II
One whole day without my PowerBook. It's been tough... really tough. No sitting on the couch working while watching television at night. No laying in bed 'til late catching up with blogs and seeing what's new in the world. No waking up and grabbing my PowerBook first thing to run through all the Trackback spam I've accumulated overnight. Nope. No PowerBook lovin' for me (on the plus-side, it did force me to download all the latest upgrades for my PowerMac G4 Cube!).
Which brings up an excellent point raised in a comment from Karla on my last entry...
Girlfriend? Hmmm... it's been a while, but I think I am better off with the PowerBook. Time for a comparison chart, methinks...
|Always busy getting ready.||Always ready to get busy.|
|Never shuts up.||Has an off-switch.|
|Needs constant attention and entertaining.||Doesn't mind being ignored and does all the entertaining.|
|Insists you be nice to her bitchy friends.||Shows you porn.|
|Insists you accompany her for stupid activities like shopping.||Shows you porn.|
|Eventually becomes defective and mentally unstable after use... requires replacement.||Bug patches can be applied to fix any instabilities, thus ensuring a long and happy relationship.|
|A risky venture into freaky sexual diseases that can really ruin your day.||Can't pass viruses to you and is easily cleaned of any it contracts.|
|High maintenance... constantly requires expensive gifts.||Low maintenance... only requires an occasional upgrade.|
|Smells nice. Sometimes lets you have sex with her.||errr...|
Okay. I see your point. Any mentally-stable women out there who can iron and are seeking a relationship, please submit a resume and psychological evaluation to me via email as soon as possible.
Okay, forget everything I just said... I've decided that I want to be the new Pope. In addition to wearing those cool hats and getting to be driven around in the Popemobile, I'm thinking it would be an excellent way to meet women. I mean, hey... the Pope gets AROUND. Besides, I was raised Catholic, so I think I'm like pre-qualified or something.
I wonder if when I get to be Pope I can kick all the tourists out of the Vatican Museum and turn the Sistine Chapel into my bedroom? That would be pretty cool getting to wake up every morning and have the first thing you see be Michelangelo's masterpiece hanging above you.
And, as if it weren't enough that the Pope gets to be the adored leader of millions of people, he also gets to carry around that hefty metal staff so he can kick people's asses when they piss him off. I think I'd use it to become the first POPE NINJA!
I wonder who I need to speak to in order to be put on the official Papal Ballot?
This morning I awoke to find a hefty stack of comment confirmation emails in my "in-box." Apparently the scumbags over at Stonebridge Life Insurance are once again up to their dirty telemarketing tricks, and my blog is getting Googled by angry people looking for answers. I don't have answers, but it's nice to know that people can come here and vent their frustrations over an activity that should most certainly be illegal and punishable by death.
Along with people who were violated by the Stonebridge asshats, there were other great comments on various entries (seriously, I often think that the comments on this blog are far more entertaining than the blog itself!), and a very nice email from somebody in Germany who wrote to tell me that he had stumbled across my blog and spent the past week reading it from start to finish (even I am not that brave!). So thanks everybody!
Of course it wasn't all sunshine and roses, there was a hate-mail buried in there as well. It wouldn't be a week at Blogography if I didn't receive at least one nasty comment. This time it was in response to my previous entry lamenting the ever-dwindling value of the once mighty US Dollar. It started out with "You liberals..." and then went on to say "blah blah blah. blah blah. BLAH! BUSH! BLAAAAHHH! BLAAHH!!!" Well, not really. But I never did get over the shock of being labeled a "liberal" in the first two words, and pretty much ignored everything after that.
It would seem that ever since I started this blog, everybody is just dying to label me...
And while it is (on some really low level) flattering that people take the time to label me based on things they have read here, there is really only one label I will ever ascribe to...
And why is that? Because I don't need some group, organization, or other person doing my thinking for me, and certainly do NOT want to be tossed in with a group of people who do. That's fine for some, but absolutely not me. I make up my own mind, and speak my own mind. Some of my thoughts could be said to embrace popular liberal leanings, but others are very much in line with what is generally considered to be traditional conservative thinking.
It all comes down to the fact that my opinion is my opinion, and I don't really care on what side of the political fence it lands. I refuse to blindly subscribe to any political party, and choose to vote for the person I consider to be best for the job instead of randomly checking off the labels presented me. It is not the most popular way to handle your politics, but it's the only way for me. Ironically, such thinking has me regularly labeled as both "liberal" and "conservative" ... "Democrat" and "Republican" when, in fact, I am none of them.
And that brings me to the crux of this entry. Somebody assumes I was Bush-bashing, labeled me a liberal, and then decided to lay me to whale shit for being something I am not. This is so ridiculous as to be laughable. All I did was present the facts for my argument: since Bush has been in office, the value of the US Dollar has been in free-fall, and that is making it difficult for me to make vacation plans. That's it! If you are going to attack me for Bush-bashing, then at least wait until I am actually bashing the idiot our President before slapping yet another label on me. And if you can't do that much, then that's your problem, and attacking me via email is a big waste of time because I won't bother to read it. So blah blah blah BLAH!
I often-times wish that I had the power to make people's heads explode. But it's probably a good thing I don't, because there would be a drastic drop in the world population. I just don't think I could contain myself when it comes to simple, everyday situations where people piss me off. I can't quite decide if that makes me weak or just plain evil.
I'm betting on evil, but that could just be wishful thinking.
Anyway, if I DID have such awesome psychic powers, here's a list of people whose heads would be blown up just today (and the night is not yet over!)...
I think that it would probably go something like this...
And yet, if I went around blowing up the heads of people who rightly deserve to be headless... it would be I who was considered a criminal! It's a world gone mad. MAD I SAY!!! All I know is that it would not be wise to piss me off. I may not have head-exploding psychic powers now, but if I continue to keep growing more and more brilliant every day, it's only a matter of time.
After a very long and annoying day, I wanted nothing more than to make a batch of chocolate-almond ice cream and veg-out in front of the television. But then the Cuisinart started leaking all over the place, so what I got instead was a chocolate-coated kitchen. Seriously, it was like Chocolate Armageddon over here. There was chocolate all over the countertops. There was chocolate running down the drawers. There was chocolate splattered on the floors. Everywhere you looked was chocolate...
Apparently, there are limits as to how much liquid you can put in a WHIRLING BLADES OF CERTAIN DEATH Cuisinart machine. I really do need to read that manual one day. Undeterred, I forged ahead whilst ankle-deep in chocolate, and made a new batch.
So now I sit here waiting for my ice-cream maker timer to beep, letting me know that frozen chocolatey goodness is waiting for me.
Checking my email, I see that Apple has shipped my copy of MacOS X 10.4 via FedEx today. The courier gods willing, I'll have it tomorrow. I'm pretty excited about that, but not all is coming up roses for Apple... the loser ass-clowns at "Tiger Direct" are suing Apple because MacOS X 10.4 is code-named "Tiger" and they claim that it will "cause confusion, mistake and deception among the general purchasing public." This is laughable on so many levels, I don't even know what to say. First of all, the Apple "Tiger" code-name has been in existence for YEARS... but they wait until the day before Apple ships the product before firing off a lawsuit and injunction? Dumbasses. Like anybody is really going to confuse the Mac OS with a lame reseller. Like anybody even cares.
I was able to make an appointment at the screen printers today... it's set for next Tuesday. That means I can start sending out all the fabulous prizes from the Blogiversary 2 contest next Wednesday. Watch your mailbox!
Ooooh! Time to add the almonds - ice cream is almost ready. ICE CREAM! IIIIICE CREEEEEEEAAMMMM!!
As I feared, I got no sleep last night. Nada. Zip. Zero. So as I sit here taking a quick break so I can mainline my fourth "Coke with Lime" so I can stay awake, I'm trying to remember when I switched back from Pepsi to Coke. I'm pretty sure that it's when they unleashed the delicious "Coke with Lime" thing, though now Pepsi has a lime-flavored product as well, so I'm not sure.
I started out as a Coke drinker from way back, but when Apartheid came to the forefront of public consciousness, I switched to Pepsi because Coke was still sponsoring events in Sun City. I'm still a little bitter about that, but "Coke with Lime" is pretty tasty.
Oh yeah... the rest of this entry originally appears as a guest blogger entry over at DOWN WITH PANTS!. It's got Thai hookers and monkeys in it, so there's guaranteed something for everyone!
I am slightly obsessed with monkeys. I find them to be fascinating creatures... one moment they are doing something so brilliant that you believe that they really are our evolutionary cousins... then the next minute they are throwing poop at you. It's kind of a lifestyle to be envious of, if you want to know the truth. I've lost count of the number of times I've wanted to throw my poop at somebody and be able to get away with it.
This is not, however, a toss-the-poop kind of story, so feel free to continue reading.
A while back my brother and I decided to go to Thailand for thrilling adventures involving cheap hookers and great Thai food. But before we left, our father decided to scare the crap out of us with the HIV infection statistics of Thai working girls. This meant that we were suddenly left with a gaping hole in our schedule, and a lot of extra time on our hands that we weren't planning on.
Eventually we decided to take a flight to Southern Thailand so we could see Phuket and the surrounding area. This included the very, very cool Phang Nga (aka "James Bond Island") which was used in "The Man With the Golden Gun." It also included a trip to a hidden Buddhist Temple which was "guarded" by thousands of monkeys. For less than a quarter, you could by bunches of bananas to feed the little guys, which was also very cool, since they would come right up and take the food from you.
And here is where it got interesting, because I noticed that monkeys eat bananas backwards from how I do it... and backwards from how everybody else I've ever seen do it as well. They peel from the tip instead of the stem so that they have a "handle" to hold on to the thing as they eat that last bite...
Simply brilliant! Why in the heck didn't I think of that?
And there you have it... how I learned to eat a banana from a monkey. Priceless knowledge you can use! Hmmm... now a banana is sounding good for some reason. I'll bet it goes great with "Coke with Lime."
Avast ye bloggers! I'm a pirate! And it's not even "Talk Like a Pirate Day" yet.
After monkeys and ninjas, I'd say my third most abnormal infatuation would have to be pirates. And I can tell you exactly when the obsession started: when I went to Disneyland and went on the "Pirates of the Caribbean" ride as a wee lad. I could never get pirates out of my blood after that, mainly because pirate life looked a heck of a lot more fun than mine did at the time.
But now-a-days the word "pirate" is getting an entirely different meaning... people who appropriated work from others without paying for it. Usually this means people who illegally download music, but it's getting popular for movies and television downloads as well. One thing that hasn't changed: piracy is still viewed as a very bad thing.
Which I think is a load of crap.
Pirates of old attacked ships at sea, killed everybody, and plundered the treasure for their pirate's booty. So when the asshats at the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) calls me a "pirate," I'm offended because I'm not nearly that cool.
All I did was grab some music that I can't buy here because it's either owned by a foreign label, or out of print. I was forced into piracy because evil record labels can't get their shit together and release ALL of their music for sale digitally. This is so stupid because the cost is minimal, and CDs are a complete dead-end. What choice do I have? Pay $50 to somebody on eBay who is probably selling it after having burned it to their iPod anyway? The artist isn't seeing a dime of that money... so what's the point in paying such an obscene sum?
Look, I'd gladly buy the shit if I could, but record labels and some narrow-minded artists won't let me purchase it. How is this my fault? The RIAA can kiss my ass. Until you give me a way to buy something legally, stop being a bunch of whiny dumbasses, and work on solving the problem... not adding to it by attacking people who would be your customers if your would let them be.
And now I wait for Sid Meier's Pirates game to be released for Xbox this summer. REAL pirates kick ass!
I am so totally boring today. Though I did finally manage to get out of bed, so I suppose that's something.
Neil started a very cool Flickr tag for everybody wearing Bad Monkey shirts... if you've got a photo up, add "badmonkey" to your tags. Then go see everybody looking impossibly cool by checking it out on Flickr. If you want a Bad Monkey shirt of your own so that you can be equally cool, visit the Artificial Duck Store and get one before the price goes up. Though, I must warn you: I've run out of small and medium, so there will be a wait for those sizes until I get another batch printed up in early June (your order will ship immediately after they're available).
Another fun thing before I head off to work. Kirkkitsch has a nifty entry about making your own South Park character...
It's me! And now you can go make your own South Park character too.
On behalf of a grateful nation, my thanks to all who sacrificed their lives in the name of freedom this Memorial Day... and every day.
Neil is on a roll, with the meme du jour being a run-through at Blog Ideas. I have alread done this one before, so here's hoping that there are new questions in the mix.
Ooooh... time to pack my suitcase. See you in Seattle.
Holy Marklar! Today Marklar announced that Marklar will be using Marklar instead of Marklar in their Marklar. I guess that the Marklar were true. As I said, I don't give a Marklar if it means we'll end up with cheaper and faster Marklar.
Also today I finally managed to get my motorcycle back out of storage after over a month of being trapped in cars and planes. The only problem is that I'm not used to riding it. And I'm old. This means I don't ride the motorcycle... the motorcycle rides me. I was out for only a half-hour and feel half-dead... mostly in my legs, which are not used to stretching like that.
In other news... I've decided to rename all the constellations.
The current names are all Greek gods and stuff, which is kind of boring. I'm going to name them all after myself and stuff I think is cool. Things like "Daveon: The Dave" and "Macinopolis: The Macintosh" and "Lizobethia: The Elizabeth Hurley" and "Cheeseora: The Cheese Sandwich." I'm thinking of keeping "Draco: The Dragon," because that's already kind of cool-sounding.
Next up: I'm renaming all of the mountains and rivers of the world. Oh yeah... and all the countries and cities too. Trust me, it will be much better this way.
As mentioned in my FridayQ entry earlier today, I need to build my own theme park. A place where my followers can come to worship me and have big fun as well. A place that's a safe refuge from the craziness of the outside world. A place where people can give thanks for all the little things I do to make the world a better place. A place that's better maintained than Disneyland, more enlightened than DollyWood, and more kick-ass than Universal Studios.
A place that will make me incredibly wealthy...
And here's a map and list of attractions you'll find at Daveland...
And there you have it. Plenty of fun and educational activities to keep you occupied for days! It can all be yours once I've built "Daveland" the "Daveiest Place on Earth!"
Apparently, Daveland disappointed a few people because of some things that were missing. But Daveland is only a small part of a much bigger plan... you see, right next door to the theme park is The Dave Resort. A magnificent place where Dave's legion of worshipers can go to relax and have fun in a Church of Daveology-friendly environment.
Here's a map and list of attractions you'll find at The Dave Resort...
Alrighty then. Another couple of billion dollars added to the total, but what does money matter?
WARNING. Today's Blogography contains subject matter of a disturbing nature. Rather than be upset by what you read and then feel the need to write me another hate mail, why not just save us both the trouble and go f#@% yourself. Thanks!
As I slowly approach the finish line of the project that has been consuming every waking moment of every day for the past two weeks, I have been able to squeeze in a bit of free time to check in on some blogs and make a tiny dent in the hundreds of emails that have been accumulating. It is not a lot of progress, but it does make me feel better knowing that my life is on a track back to "normalcy."
And now that I'm finally going to have some honest-to-goodness free time in my future, I find myself starting to think of what I am going to do with it. The list goes something like this...
But that's a week away. In the meanwhile, I still have loads of work to do and a blog entry to write. This should be easy... I could just weigh in on the two topics that are dominating the blogosphere right now:
So if I am not going to write about iTunes or Bush, what's the topic for the day? Find out in an extended entry!→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
What a freaky day.
This morning I got an email from some random guy who was starting a new blog and came up with this fantastic idea to call it "Blogography", but the domain "blogography.com" was taken which made him mad. And then he found out ".net" and ".org" were also taken, and he got even madder.
He checked the URLs and discovered something astounding: the same jerk bought all three domains!
Oh wait... that's me!
After writing back to say "so?" I received another email accusing me of everything from domain squatting to destroying the internet. He went on to pretty much demand that I release one of the domains so he could have it (apparently, he didn't want ".info" or ".tv" or any of a hundred other top-level domains available). This made me laugh, but not as much as when he tried to comment-spam me (he left six before realizing I manually approve all comments).
Back when I thought of the name (April 2003), I Googled "blogography" to make sure nobody else was using it and came up blank. Since that time, dozens of other "blogography" sites have sprung up on the internet... but I was first, and I wanted all three domains to make sure some ".net" or ".org" didn't cause confusion. This is not an unusual thing to do, and having somebody equating it to domain squatting is just bizarre.
Almost as bizarre as trying to figure out how to animate something. Since TV is in reruns, I decided to goof around with making my DaveToons move. At first I was going to do it like South Park, and have the characters bounce along without actually walking... but it didn't work for me. I needed a simple "walk cycle" to give the illusion that I was at least trying to make an effort. How hard could it be?
A lot harder than you'd think. It took me nearly two hours to get something I considered to be acceptable, and I'm still not really happy with it...
He needs to bobble a little bit when he walks, but my attempts to do this make him look like a complete spaz. He also needs a shadow, but when I attempted to add one, it looked like he was walking with a pet blob. At some point I need to just accept the fact that I am not Walt Disney, and be happy that I can manage this much.
And here I am. Stuck in Hartford, Connecticut without a car. Just sitting here watching really bad television in my hotel room. Woe is me. Life sucks.
Actually, I lie. It's pretty great.
Until they kick me out of the hotel in two hours... then I have to bum around the airport for another two-and-a-half before my flight. I hope they have wi-fi access at BDL. In the meanwhile, I have a scenario for you...
I mean seriously. Why the f#@% would you sell postcards without the means to actually send them somewhere? That IS the point is it not? Sometimes you get lucky and there's a place for stamps nearby, but that's a rare event. I try to remember to have stamps with me when I travel, but then some places selling postcards refuse to mail them for you, and so you end up having to hunt down a post box.
There should be a law that anybody selling postcards should be required to sell postage too. Furthermore, if there isn't a post box within a reasonable distance, they should be required to mail them for you as well. Is that really so unreasonable?
I should pack my suitcase. I'm finally in a situation where I don't have to wait until the last minute and can take my time. That's kind of cool. I hope nothing comes along to distract me.
Oh wait... Dora the Explorer is on TV!
Storms on the East Coast were causing delays for most every flight into Baltimore International Airport except mine. My flight actually landed five minutes early. But this minor victory was short-lived considering that it took FORTY FRICKIN' MINUTES for BWI to get me my suitcase. I'm not positive, but I am fairly certain that this has to be a personal record. We were walking off the plane at 6:55, and luggage hit the baggage claim carousel at 7:35.
FORTY FRICKIN' MINUTES!!!
I can only guess that all of the baggage handlers were reading the new Harry Potter book, and didn't want to be interrupted until they finished the chapter they were reading.
Speaking of Harry Potter... do book stores carry any other books now? Everywhere you go, they've got Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince stacked to the rafters. Sometimes it looks as if they've got nothing else for sale, which gave me a great idea for being a smart-ass while waiting for my plane connection in Minneapolis...
WARNING: Workers at the book shop do NOT find this funny for some reason. It's a pity, because I thought it was darn clever!
Anyway, I am finally in Lancaster, Pennsylvania now. This city is famous for being at the heart of Amish country. The Amish lead a very admirable life, free from all our modern conveniences like electricity and the internet. I must admit that I don't know much about the Pennsylvania Dutch except what I've seen in movies and on that television reality show called "Amish in the City." On one hand, it must be nice to live a simpler life, free from the stress and hassles that modern civilization has thrust upon us. On the other hand, I'd probably kill myself out of sheer boredom. I mean, I've never churned butter before, but something tells me it's not as much fun as playing Lego Star Wars on my Xbox.
Ooog. I need some sleep. My day started at 3:30am, and it's just now midnight. Even subtracting three hours for the time zone change, that's a long day.
A week ago, just as I was in the process of flying back from Hong Kong, James tagged me with an excellent meme: "If I Were a SuperHero." As a long-time fan and lover of comic books, I was duly excited, and spent the two hour layover I had in Japan coming up with a few ideas and sketching them out.
But then I couldn't stop.
All week, whenever I had a spare moment, I worked up dozens of heroes I thought would be a good fit for me. Pages and pages of them. Ultimately, I knew that something had to be done... my life was being destroyed over a meme. So I decided to narrow the choice down to my top-ten favorites...
...and make it into a collectible card game.
Since this is going to be a pretty big entry, I'll post the first half tonight, and the remaining five tomorrow. James, I hope you're happy!
Supreme Pontiff. Elected to the head of the Catholic Church, Dave became Supreme Pontiff... The Ass-Kicking Pope! Armed with the psychic power to explode people's heads and backed by his faithful followers, Dave uses his Papal Power Staff to smite evil non-believers and people who piss him off. Weakness: flying spaghetti monsters.
Strength: 3, Agility: 4, Charisma: 9, Intelligence: 7, Fighting Ability: 6, POWER RATING: 7.
Dave-Devil. Consigned to hell by his right-wing, conservative, religious wacko Blogography readers, Dave quickly rose through the ranks of Satan's army to become Dave-Devil... The Unholy Terror! Able to crush his foes with his fists of flame, Dave-Devil has near-impervious skin, toughened by the fiery brimstone pits of hell itself! Armed with an evil glare and demonic laugh to paralyze his prey, Dave uses his demonic touch to burn his enemies to their very souls. Weakness: televangelists and holy water.
Strength: 7, Agility: 4, Charisma: 4, Intelligence: 2, Fighting Ability: 7, POWER RATING: 4.
The Lone Dick. As one of the most irritating, annoying people on earth, Dave trained in the monasteries of Los Angeles to become The Lone Dick... a shining shaft of light in the fight against crime! Able to control his molecular structure, The Lone Dick can harden to become impenetrable... but, when nervous or upset, can become ultra-limp and slippery, making him impossible to catch. Dave blasts his foes with his dual Dick Pistols, which spray forth a viscous liquid to immobilize all who would dare oppose him. Weakness: nuns, Bea Arthur, fat chicks in spandex.
Strength: 3, Agility: 7, Charisma: 2, Intelligence: 6, Fighting Ability: 3, POWER RATING: 6.
Tube Dude. After becoming so addicted to watching television that he used to his superior intelligence to merge his brain with a TV set, Dave because Tube Dude... the televised avenger! Able to instantly recall complete episode guides for any television program ever aired with his satellite uplink, Dave uses this vast knowledge to defeat his foes with the power of television. Tube Dude attacks his opponents with his cable whip, and a nuclear-powered remote control that can emit a powerful laser force field. Weakness: dead batteries, stupid network executives with cancelation powers.
Strength: 3, Agility: 3, Charisma: 5, Intelligence: 8, Fighting Ability: 2, POWER RATING: 2.
Stalkerman. Finally succumbing to his overwhelming love of Elizabeth Hurley, Dave used his vast fortune to become Stalkerman... the teleporting scourge of the underworld! Able to instantly teleport to any location on earth, Dave uses his stalking skills to defeat those who would oppose his will for world domination (and to secretly stalk hottie movie stars). Stalkerman is all but undefeatable when using his flash-punch to pummel his enemies from afar. Weakness: paparazzi, tabloids, restraining orders.
Strength: 3, Agility: 9, Charisma: 9, Intelligence: 7, Fighting Ability: 8, POWER RATING: 8.
Tune in tomorrow for the rest... it only gets worse from here...
Comic books have been a very large part of my past, and continue to be a source of enjoyment for me even today. They've changed over the years, of course, trying to compete in a world of ever-escalating violence and fun-time alternatives like videogames... but the idea of escaping into the utopian world of super-powered heroes is just as appealing now as it has always been.
Actually, the escape is more necessary now that it has ever been.
Anyway, onward to concluding the saga of the "If I Were a SuperHero" meme from yesterday...
The Davenator. Modified by aliens from the future, Dave received an impervious endoskeleton, giving him fantastic strength and transforming him into The Davenator... unstoppable force against injustice! Armed with every conceivable weapon he can find, The Davenator mows down his foes with bloody abandon. Weakness: The Governator.
Strength: 8, Agility: 6, Charisma: 3, Intelligence: 3, Fighting Ability: 9, POWER RATING: 7.
Monkey Boy. Bitten by a radioactive monkey, Dave became Monkey Boy... the simian protector of the innocent! Armed with his bananarang, Dave boldly goes where other heroes fear to tread. Infused with radioactive monkey saliva, Monkey Boy received a number of fantastic powers... including his fierce "monkey bite" which can gnaw through bones, his ear-splitting "monkey screech" which stops foes in their tracks, and his "howling bitch-slap" which can annoy even the deadliest of opponents. But the most frightening tool in his arsenal is the deadly "Poo fling" where Dave can throw his radioactive monkey feces at villains, temporarily blinding them (and making them smell like crap). Weakness: Buckaroo Banzai, Lord John Whorfin, Black Lectroids.
Strength: 3, Agility: 7, Charisma: 4, Intelligence: 4, Fighting Ability: 3, POWER RATING: 3.
Captain Road Rage. Fed up with the number of stupid drivers on the road, Dave tricked out his automobile with deadly devices to become Captain Road Rage... motor-powered predator of the streets! His faithful Saturn is armor-plated, and able to tear through even a soccer-mom's Hummer with ease. For those driving slow in the passing lane, Dave often uses his "Sonic Death Horn" to liquify them until they're nothing but a stain on the pavement. Lauded by good drivers everywhere, Captain Road Rage uses his network of "road warriors" to stay one-step ahead of the law. Weakness: road blocks, highway construction.
Strength: 4, Agility: 3, Charisma: 7, Intelligence: 5, Fighting Ability: 8, POWER RATING: 5.
Anger Lad. For years Dave absorbed all the stupidity in the world until one day it exploded within him as all-consuming rage, causing him to be reborn as Anger Lad... furious avenger of sanity! With no real superpowers, Dave has to rely on his righteous fury to batter his foes into submission. Armed only with a foul temper and deadly ranting skills, Anger Lad can easily dispatch common idiots, politicians, talk show hosts, spammers, and whack-jobs, in a flurry of obscenities. Weakness: kittens, rainbows, Betty White.
Strength: 3, Agility: 3, Charisma: 5, Intelligence: 8, Fighting Ability: 2, POWER RATING: 2.
UltraDave. The epitome and culmination of the perfection that is Dave, he has evolved to become UltraDave... glorious overlord of all mankind! Using his god-like powers, Dave can pretty much do anything he wants to do. Dave spends his time making the world a better place for his loyal followers, and bringing blessings and prosperity to all who serve him through his divine might. ALL BOW BEFORE ULTRADAVE, OUR BELOVED RULER!! Weakness: none.
Strength: 9+, Agility: 9+, Charisma: 9+, Intelligence: 9+, Fighting Ability: 9+, POWER RATING: 9+.
Okay then, that was fun! Though, if I start spending this kind of time on future blog entries, it will seriously be time to give it up and move on to something more productive!
Apparently I am going to be one of those people who dribble food all over and wet themselves when I get older.
I know this because the slow decline has already begun.
This morning I had to change my shirt three times before I made it to work. THREE TIMES! First I dribbled strawberry jam on my shirt while I was having toast for breakfast. Then I dribbled Cinnamon Sparkle Crest on my shirt while brushing my teeth. Then I got dirt all over my shirt as I was cleaning off my car...
It was as if the universe itself was conspiring against me.
Unbeknownst to the universe, however, is the fact that I have a never-ending supply of Bad Monkey T-Shirts in size medium. TAKE THAT UNIVERSE!
Yesterday morning I needed to make a business call to a guy I know who is anti-Bush. And I mean really anti-Bush. Every time I have to call, I get an earful about the latest Bush happenings and how the world is sure to end soon because of the latest thing President Bush has done or said. Usually I don't mind listening to him going on with his ranting, because it's a nice source of free entertainment. But yesterday I wasn't really in the mood for it, and just wanted to get the information I needed to do my job and move on.
Naturally, this proved impossible. When somebody is passionate about President Bush... pro or con... you simply cannot stop them...
Guy: HA HA HAH! DID YOU HEAR BUSH TRIED TO ESCAPE A PRESS CONFERENCE IN CHINA AND WAS FOILED BY A DOOR!!
Dave: Uh... no.
Guy: I'LL SEND YOU THE VIDEO LINK! IT'S HILARIOUS! A DOOR!!
Dave: Uhhh... he forgot how to open a door?
Guy: NO... NO... IT WAS LOCKED! HA HA HAH!!
Dave: And he ran into the door and fell down or something?
Guy: NO! HE JUST WENT TO THE WRONG DOOR AND IT WAS LOCKED!
Dave: Ah. Well that's not so bad is it? I mean, it's not like he accidentally started a war with China or anything.
Guy: NOT YET! BWAH HA HA HAAAAAAH!
Well, whatever. I mean, it is a bit embarrassing... but if Bush didn't have an exit strategy for Iraq, why would he have an exit strategy for a press conference? Shouldn't people be accustomed to this kind of thing by now?
Hey, as long as Bush doesn't declare war on Canada or nuke the moon or something... I say it's all good. Run into doors or make up all the non-existant words you want, just don't get us into any more trouble than we already are, and I'll pretend to be happy.
Embarrassed, but faux-happy.
(Uhhh... there is still a two-term limit on the presidency isn't there?)
BLOGOGRAPHY FLASHBACK ENTRY: Leather Jackets
BLOGDATE: April 7, 2004
In which Dave attempts to find a place to buy a leather jacket via Google and discover that "leather" can mean very different things to different people... and there are plenty of freaky people out there.
Click here to go back in time...
After nearly killing a "K-9 robot dog" pull-toy with my suitcase while trying to escape from the Dr. Who fanatics (which got me a nasty look from a "Doctor" dressed up with a nasty hand-knit scarf)... I managed to make my way to the car rental place so that I could pick up my Dodge Neon for the trip north. The Neon itself is not such a bad automobile, but the visibility is horrendously bad, and made all the worse by the funky spoiler that's blocking my back window. I'm relieved to report that I didn't back over any Daleks in the parking lot.
Checking in at work revealed that I had nothing to do today, which meant there was plenty of time to goof off. My idea of goofing off was to get a long-overdue haircut at the Mayfair Mall (which is considered to be Milwaukee's largest, which is odd considering it is located in the city of Wauwatosa... not Milwaukee... just down the highway from the Harley Davidson factory).
This was a big mistake. The mall was so crowded that I had to park in the next county and, once inside, found myself wising that I had brought my Papal Power Staff...
Yes, there are benefits to being The Pope.
The Apple Store was so packed with people trying and buyng iPods and iMacs that I couldn't even get near the iPod accessories to buy a case for my new nano. Eventually I just gave up at the mall and headed to Culvers for a plate of delicious crinkle-cut fries and a caramel-cashew sundae. Sweet!
It's cold out, so I'm going to sleep in tomorrow.
BLOGOGRAPHY FLASHBACK ENTRY: I Want a Gun
BLOGDATE: April 26, 2004
In which Dave denounces violence in all forms, but then wishes he had a big-ass gun so that he can have a more pleasant driving experience.
Click here to go back in time...
All morning I've been glued to the WE Channel, which is the Women's Entertainment Channel. Most of the time, I avoid WE like the plague because, well, it's crap isn't it?
But today is different, because it's an English Royalty Marathon!
In an effort to make Americans feel better about the heinous state of our leadership, WE Channel has decided to drag out the glamorous scandals of Great Britain, with a stellar line-up of badly-produced, faux "documentaries" on the Royals. Every hour, there is another tantalizing glimpse into the life and times of The House of Windsor, each more delicious than the last! The titles alone are exciting enough to keep you watching...
It's all very fascinating, and I've learned so much (Her Majesty The Queen prefers to take her breakfast served from Tupperware containers!). Ultimately, after my hours of research, I've come to the conclusion that I should be King...
BOW BEFORE MY MAJESTY!
And my first act as King would be to behead blog plagiarists!
I've already said my peace on the subject... and am starting to see other bloggers venting their frustrations as well (including blogging giant Om Malik). But it's reaching ridiculous heights now, because people think that there is money to be made from blogging, and are desperate to swipe content so they can start raking in the big bucks (ha ha ha). Over Thanksgiving, I was made aware of somebody who decided to rape some of the cartoons I created here... even going so far as to remove copyrights and "improve" the coloring!
I guess on some level you could claim that these alterations of my stuff are "derivative works" which are allowed by my Creative Commons license... but only if you credit the original source (which he didn't) and do not use them for commercial purposes (which he did, as he was clearly using his blog to sell crap). Adding insult to injury, that second "thanks!" cartoon is only displayed here if you leave a comment... which means that the guy actually left me a comment before swiping my stuff! Hey, he may be a thief but, on the other hand, he's got enormous balls!
I've always wanted to end an entry by saying "enormous balls".
It's snowing today. Hard.
And since it's a wet, sloppy, heavy snow, it makes things so much worse. After clearing the snow off of half my car, it had already been covered again by the time I was finished with the other half. Driving is fantastically difficult, because they can't keep the streets plowed. There were moments coming home tonight where I could barely keep my car on the road, and I actually ended up getting stuck in the parking lot... twice. I need to move to the Caribbean or something, because this sucks ass...
And then there's those morons who don't bother to clean the snow off the top of their cars... so when you drive behind them, you've got chunks of snow blowing into your windshield the whole time. That makes a sucky thing suck even more. Time for Captain Road Rage.
Sadly, the snow (along with my work obligations) has me deciding not to take my annual trip to Seattle for New Years tomorrow. That's a bit of a bummer, because it's one of those rare things I look forward to every year.
Well, that and "Talk Like a Pirate Day" (May 13th).
And "Carb Awareness Day" (May 20th).
And, of course, "National Lap Dance Day" (November 25th).
Dang. I just realized that I failed to celebrate National Lap Dance Day this year! Well crap. I wonder if that means I can celebrate twice this year?
Despite working my guts out over the holiday weekend, I still made time to go see Memoirs of a Geisha at the movies. As a Japanophile, it was an absolute necessity.
But make no mistake that I wanted to see the movie because I was a fan of the book... nothing could be further from the truth. I positively despise the book Memoirs of a Geisha on which the movie is based. It is a highly fictionalized crap-fest that shits all over the secret "flower and willow world" of the geisha and is an insult to Japanese culture on several levels. I am positively horrified that the book is the big success that it is, because it propagates stereotypes and false information that go against everything geisha are supposed to be about.
No, I went to see the movie because I am a mega-huge fan of Michelle Yeoh. And also the incomparable Ziyi Zhang, who I fell in love with ever since watching the sublime Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon...
But here's the problem. Neither Michelle Yeoh or Ziyi Zhang are Japanese.
Sure their performances weren't terrible, but they should have never been cast in the first place. They were hired for the job solely because they have name recognition (no matter how vague here in the US) and because Western audiences won't know or care that they aren't Japanese. They look "Asian" and that, apparently, was enough.
Unless you appreciate Japanese culture, in which case they are about as Japanese as I am. Seriously, I could have been cast as the geisha, and it would have been just as "authentic"...
The word "geisha" literally means "arts person" in Japanese. Geisha are not prostitutes, as most Westerners would think, but living, breathing, moving, works of exquisitely beautiful art. Sex never enters the picture (which is not to say that geisha don't have sex, it's just that they do not have sex as geisha, which is a big difference). Geisha are highly trained from a young age to sing, dance, play instruments, compose poetry, facilitate conversation, and dozens of other art forms... like gracefully pouring tea and making ikebana (interpretive Japanese flower arrangements). They are entertainers of the highest caliber, and respected artists both in action and appearance.
Which is why the movie and book sucks ass. in order to appeal to the tawdry nature of Americans, everything is infused with sex. You've got geishas having sex (in their okiya!)... geishas selling their virginity... geishas having their clothes ripped off... all these ridiculous things which are included solely to sell books and movie tickets. Obviously I can't say that these things never happened to a geisha in real-life, but they are in no way indicative of what geisha represent, and it saddens me to think that this is the image Westerners will have of them. I mean, sure it's one-step above the prostitutes that most people have in mind now, but not much of one.
Putting the true nature of geisha and reality aside, the film still fails in my opinion. It was beautifully shot with capable actors, but that doesn't compensate for the uneven pacing that's paired with a poor (and somewhat pedophile-freaky) story. Unlike The Last Samurai, which I was able to buy into as fanciful Japanese fiction, Memoirs of a Geisha never managed to absorb me. Too many flaws kept getting in the way.
After receiving not one, but TWO emails from Memoirs of a Geisha fans railing on me for my less than flattering review of the crappy book and soulless film adaptation, my mind turned to happier times. Times where I feel safe. Times where I felt unthreatened. Times where I am in control of my own destiny in a world gone mad....
Times spent wiping my ass.
And from there it was only a small leap to the horrifying realization that I am nearly out of toilet paper and will soon have to be making a trip to Target to re-stock up on critical household supplies.
Now, as I have mentioned here many, many times... I loathe shopping. Totally can't stand it. And to avoid shopping for as long as possible, I always buy in bulk. When I need a new pair of jeans, I don't just buy the one pair, I buy five. When I need ketchup, I buy three jumbo bottles to be sure I won't have to buy ketchup again any time soon. When I crave a Tootsie Pop, I buy an entire 100-count carton... I just don't mess around when I am forced to shop.
So understand that when I buy toilet paper, I am looking for maximum wipe-age. And when you want maximum wipe-age, there's only one thing to do... buy the Charmin Mega-Roll Mega Six-Pack...
It's the Cadillac of toilet paper. And I must admit that when I saw the words "CHANGE THE ROLL LESS OFTEN" on the package, I broke down in tears of happiness. It's a dream come true for non-shoppers everywhere.
But there is a problem.
Target doesn't have a shopping bag big enough to hold a Charmin Mega-Roll Mega Six-Pack.
When you make your purchase, you have to walk out the door with this big-ass package of toilet paper where everybody can see you holding it. And that's when you realize it...
EVERYBODY IS GOING TO KNOW THAT YOU WIPE YOUR ASS!
And that bothers me for some reason.
What are people thinking when they see me walking through the parking lot with this Mega Six-Pack of toilet paper I wonder. "Boy that guy sure wipes his ass a lot!" Or perhaps "That dude has serious bowel issues!" Or maybe "Whoa, he must look at a lot of porn!"
I dunno. I don't want to know.
But it does kind of freak me out seeing all these condescending glances as I make my way to my car. "I JUST DON'T LIKE TO SHOP!" I want to scream at them. "DON'T JUDGE ME, LOVE ME!" I want to cry.
Why does buying toilet paper have to be such a traumatic experience? Shouldn't you be PROUD that you wipe your ass? I mean, it is a good thing compared to the alternative of NOT wiping your ass, isn't it?
Maybe it's just me. Perhaps I have wiping issues or something.
I swear, I do not make this stuff up.
Yesterday morning as I was walking out the door to work, I got a wrong number phone call from some older guy. I seem to be a magnet for these kinds of things.
Fortunately, this time I resisted the urge to be a smart-ass, because something tells me the repercussions could have been particularly strange...
Caller: Yeah, I was the guy that gave you $20 last night.
Dave: Uhhh... no you didn't.
Caller: Yes, I gave you $20.
Dave: I think you have the wrong number, because I didn't get $20 from anybody last night.
Caller: Well this is the number he gave me!
Dave: Then he must have given you the wrong number, because I don't have your $20!
Dave: Sorry, goodbye!
Naturally, my mind is abuzz with wonder over why somebody would give a stranger $20 in exchange for his phone number. And since he thinks that stranger is me, I've got these disturbing images running through my head.
Most of them involving me being naked or dressed naughty...
Please. Make it stop.
BLOGOGRAPHY FLASHBACK ENTRY: Mr. Bread
BLOGDATE: February 8, 2004
In which Dave explains the photos of himself that preface each entry, and wins a coffee mug for drunken bread carving.
Click here to go back in time...
I love getting mail.
Which is one of those paradoxical things in life for me, because I loathe going to the post office to actually pick it up.
Fortunately, I have a billing service that collects my monthly bills and allows me to pay them online, or else I'd be in never-ending peril from bill collectors wanting to break my legs. But everything else... magazines, exciting offers from select retailers, free samples, cards, letters, and all the rest... it just collects in a bin until I get off my lazy ass and do something with it.
Faced with a huge pile of mail, I finally decided to go through everything on Sunday.
Turns out I got a lot of nice cards from Blogography readers for the holidays, so I first want to thank everybody for that. And, while I'm at it, thanks for the well-wishing emails, e-cards and stuff everybody sent as well. I appreciate it all, and cannot help but be touched that so many people spent their valuable time thinking of me.
Which, of course, makes me feel like a total bastard for not reciprocating... but that's my problem, not yours.
But hey, I make a special Blogography delivery every day just for YOU (yes, you!) so it's not like I don't care or anything...
Speaking of mail... let's catch up with a few emails I've gotten lately, shall we?
Council: Probably my favorite email in the past several weeks was from a woman who was absolutely outraged after having read my entry on Seattle's new insanely stupid strip club laws. She found it reprehensible that I could possibly be so crass as to tell elected public officials to kiss my ass... IN A PUBLIC BLOG THAT ANYBODY... INCLUDING (gasp) CHILDREN... CAN READ! The word "disrespectful" kept popping up again and again, and she wondered how I felt about inflicting such horrible, uncivil values on my readers. My response, of course, was that she could kiss my ass too.
Pivot: Speaking of ass-kissing... another email came from somebody wanting to collect "Pivot Questionnaires" published on the web. After Googling, they found mine, and wanted to know if they could add it. For anybody not familiar with The Bernard Pivot Questionnaire, it's the final questions that James Lipton asks when he interviews guests on his show Inside the Actors Studio. The show is fantastic (if you can get over what a total kiss-ass Lipton is... he just doesn't kiss ass... he FRENCH kisses ass!), and so I was happy to contribute. The Bravo website has a cool "Personality Profile Game" where you can see which actor you most closely relate to personality-wise (for me, it's Benicio Del Toro).
Suggested: One email was a bit surprising in that it was just a big list of suggestions of things that the guy wanted me to write about here. Oddly enough, I had already written about most of them, which now has me worried that there's nothing left to talk about, and I should just close down my blog.
Prayer: After telling Pat Roberston to "shut up and die" I got a rather nice email from somebody telling me that this wasn't a very "Christian" thing to say, even if I disagree with the guy. My reply didn't bother telling him that I'm not a Christian in the first place... but I did write back and ask if he had written to Pat and told HIM that it wasn't a very "Christian" thing to ask God to make people dead (which Robertson has done on more than one occasion). This, apparently, was not the response the guy was looking for, and I got a nice long lecture on everything from school prayer to internet porn (sadly, no links were provided).
Privacy: Last, but certainly not least, was an email I received last month which asked a series of highly-personal questions which I would be hard-pressed to talk about to even close friends... let alone a complete stranger. The sad thing was that this person had put a lot of thought into what they were asking, and I felt bad having to tell them that I wasn't comfortable discussing those areas of my life. Over the past couple of weeks, the whole situation has been really bothering me, and I cannot figure out why. Surely it's not wrong to want to keep some areas of my life private... is it? Why would anybody want to know such things in the first place? Does EVERYBODY wonder about this stuff? Hmmm... every once in a while I get the sense of just how weird it is to have a blog.
BLOGOGRAPHY FLASHBACK ENTRY: Kiwi
BLOGDATE: October 20, 2004
In which Dave ponders the eternal mystery of Kiwi (and Photoshops a cool picture of it).
Click here to go back in time...
For those of you not lucky enough to be at MacWorld for Steve Jobs' keynote presentation... no worries, Blogography has you covered! I'll be regularly updating this page as events unfold.
Hmmm... I guess this means the keynote is over.
I must say, this was one of the most exciting SteveNotes ever, and I can't wait to get me an iToast!
Thanks for tuning in to Blogography's MacWorld SteveNote coverage! See you next year.
TWILIGHT ZONE UPDATE! I am just now watching the MacWorld streaming keynote, and have gotten to the part where his Steveness is making his own podcast in Garage Band. And what does he add to the video portion? An iPod toaster! I just know that Apple Legal is going to be sending me a cease and desist any minute now...
I confess that I am a geeky nerd.
But you probably already knew that.
My geeky nerdiness is multifaceted in that I am part sci-fi dweeb (thanks to Star Trek) and part comic book dork (thanks to Batman). And, in-between all of that, is a love of Japanimation, Macintosh, Curious George, video games, and blogging. All I need is an inflatable plastic girlfriend, and I think I'm set...
But no matter how much of a geeky nerd I am, there's always somebody who's a step ahead of me.
Like Bill Gates, for instance.
Bill is the ultimate geeky nerd, and the fact that he has billions of dollars makes him a geeky nerd to be reckoned with (not to mention exceedingly generous, since he's giving away huge amounts of money to charitable causes). Here's a dweeb who has amassed a fortune of such huge proportions that there is literally nothing he can't do...
...except get a handle on cool new trends.
He was late to graphical interfaces. He was late to the internet. He was late to video... He's always one step behind what all the cool kids are doing, and the list goes on and on. If it doesn't involve Windows or MS Office, he's out of the loop.
As a current example, here's an excerpt from an interview he gave over at Engadget regarding the new Microsoft/MTV online music store called (=snicker=) URGE:
Bill Gates: "With music, having MTV as a partner is a great thing. We think they can get the word out, do some neat things. We're also doing a lot in Messenger to make it so you can share playlists, so you can listen to different things. The next version of Messenger has music as one of the big breakthrough scenarios."
Yeah. Right. Except partnering with MTV for music expertise is laughable and so very, very lame.You can't even FIND music on MTV anymore. In checking their schedule just now, I see a show called Next, followed by three episodes of Real World/Road Rules Challenge, followed by There & Back, followed by My Own, followed by another episode of Next, followed by Room Raiders, followed by Punk'd, and topped off by SIX episodes of Viva La Bam.
These are all reality-based television shows.
WHERE IS THE F#@%ING MUSIC?!?
Teaming up with MTV for music is like teaming up with McDonalds for tacos, and I just don't get it. Sure if this were 1984, partnering with MTV would be totally sweet. But in 2006 it's just sad. Once again, Bill is behind the curve. Apple is flying high with iTunes, so now Microsoft has to do yet another "me too" by making their own music store (apparently MSN Music didn't work out?)... except they team up with a has-been and give it a lamer name like "URGE" (which could only be more lame if they called it "EXTREME URGE" or some crap like that).
When is Microsoft going to stop being the bloated whore of the tech industry so they can be lean, hungry, and bleeding edge? When is Bill Gates going to understand that these sloppy-seconds "partnerships" are just not relevant when we're talking about a ship that's already sailed. I'm tired of Bill being late to the dock, then renting a little rowboat thinking that he'll be able to catch up... all the while screaming to the media about how Microsoft is doing all this cool shit that, in reality, is only cool to him.
Total crap like "URGE" is a waste of money and makes us geeky nerds look bad. Even worse, it stifles REAL innovation by distracting attention from things that actually ARE bleeding edge and cool.
BILL... YOU HAVE BILLIONS OF DOLLARS!! MICROSOFT IS ONE OF THE WEALTHIEST COMPANIES ON EARTH!! You don't NEED venture capital to finance something new... YOU'VE GOT MONEY COMING OUT YOUR ASS! STOP DICKING AROUND AND GET TO WORK!!
Build a flying car. Come up with wireless electrical power. Figure out a way to keep Golden Grahams from going soggy in milk... I don't really care... just do something NEW with your money for a change. Reclaim the geeky nerd you used to be and stop trying to play catch-up with the crap we've already got (seriously, "URGE"? WTF?!?). If you can't make it BETTER, it's just a waste of everybody's time.
In conclusion... wouldn't it be cool if McDonalds really did sell tacos?
McTaco they could call it!
BLOGOGRAPHY FLASHBACK ENTRY: DaveXP
BLOGDATE: March 6, 2005
In which Dave finally figures out a way of fixing all the bugs in Windows XP.
Click here to go back in time...
I've officially become the worst possible kind of blogger.
I'm now one of "those guys" whose blog has started to intrude into Real Life.
This morning a guy I work with emailed me about what a pain in the ass it was to get his father signed up for the new Medicare Drug insurance plan. Without even thinking, I replied back and said "yeah, I had a tough time helping my grandmother get that figured out" and then pasted a link to a Blogography entry where I had written about it.
Five minutes later I'm sucked into an Instant Message chat...
Chet: You have a blog? That is so gay!!
Dave: Yes. You are right. Blogs are totally gay.
Dave: Which makes it easier for me to tell you something...
Chet: NO SHIT?!?
Dave: Yeah. I've been living with this secret for a while now...
Chet: YOU'RE GAY?!?
Dave: Yes, well, no... uhhh... kinda. According to this online quiz I took, I'm 20% gay, which I guess means that I'm only 80% not-gay.
Chet: What test? Where?
Dave: Here: http://www.channel4.com/life/microsites/G/gayometer/gayometer.html
15 minutes later...
Chet: Shit! I'm gayer than you!!!!!
Dave: So when can I expect to see YOUR blog online?
All of this is kind of strange to me, because I work so hard to keep my Real Life separate from my blog. I mean, sure... a lot of real-life people I know read it... but there's no overlap. I don't initiate a conversation around something I've written, and I absolutely don't point people to my blog as an alternative to talking with them about something.
At least I didn't until now.
I suppose my next step is to hang a flat-screen monitor around my neck, put a wireless antennae on my head, and just point people to Blogography entries instead of actually having to talk to them. Then I could wander around with a look of total disinterest all day, ignoring anybody I should run into...
I mean, hey, I'm coming up on my three-year blogiversary in a few months... I've pretty much said it all, haven't I? What else is left to say?
And speaking of blogging milestones - it would appear that I'm rapidly approaching my 5000th comment! I wonder if I should have a prize for whoever leaves comment #5000? Just my luck it would be some lame comment like "YOU SUCK, ASSHOLE!" and I'd have to reward that kind of troll behavior with a prize.
Or do I?
I mean, in the past, I've approved ANY comment, no matter how lame. So unless somebody was selling something or shilling for their site, I've just let it go through. But why should I? I mean, I don't care if somebody wants to call me an asshole (I'm getting used to it), but I think they should at least have to tell me WHY they think that before I publish their crap.
I dunno. Maybe it's just me, but I don't think this is unreasonable. I wonder what other bloggers do about abusive comments by random 10-year-olds and comment trolls?
Sweet! I've just put a disclaimer on my comments form telling them not to bother.
Hmmm... I guess I really AM an asshole.
Why am I not surprised.
You just figured out Blue's Clues! You just figured out Blue's Clues! You just figured out Blue's Clues because you're really smart!
I don't think it will come as much of a shock to admit that I was a huge fan of the Nickelodeon Kids television show called Blue's Clues. Back in my pre-TiVo days, I'd set the VCR to record the show so I could have something to watch after work. A simple show that I could just sit and decompress with. There was something about the oddly-rendered, superficial world of Blue's Clues that I found calming.
For those of you who have never heard of it, Blue's Clues was about a guy named Steve and his pet dog Blue. Each episode, Blue would wander around leaving paw-prints on three different items in order to give Steve "clues" as to what she was wanting. With each new find, Steve would draw a picture of the clue in his "handy dandy notebook" and then go sit in his big red "thinking chair" to try to solve the mystery. For example, Steve might find clues of an alarm clock, a blanket, and a bed... then come to the fabulous conclusion that Blue wanted to take a nap.
It was good clean fun, and along the way Steve would play games, dance, sing songs, and do other educational activities like read a book with Julia Louis Dreyfus...
The show was awesome, and I so totally wanted to be Steve when I grew up because he was always having such cool adventures...
Well, I guess "grow up" is a kind of relative term, because I started watching when I was 30... but still. I wanted to be Steve.
Anyway, eventually Steve left the show and was replaced by this guy "Joe" who wasn't nearly as cool. Since Joe totally blew chunks, I stopped watching and went back to reruns of Teletubbies for my entertainment. The last I heard was that the reason Steve left the show was because he had a heroin problem and eventually died of an overdose.
I was kind of sad about that.
So imagine my surprise when I was goofing around the internet this morning and ran across a web site called "Steve Burns Rocks" which showed me that not only had Steve not died, but he eventually went all gold-tooth "cronk" and became an indie musician...
Did Steve fake his death so he could escape being linked to a children's television show and instead be reborn as a "serious musician"?? I just didn't know. So I did what I always do in these cases... I wander over to Snopes to find out if they've got anything on the rumor. And they did.
So Steve was never dead, though the heroin addiction would certainly explain the gold tooth.
Personally I think the new and lame Blue's Clues host "Joe" is behind the rumors. The bastard.
And now, before I go enjoy a lovely Saturday afternoon at work and see how many emails I got from people outraged by my "Bi-Curious George" cartoon yesterday... one last question...
HOW MANY F#@%ING TIMES DO WE HAVE TO F#@%ING KILL THE F#@%ING "BROADCAST FLAG" SHIT BEFORE IT WILL STAY F#@%ING DEAD AND DUMBASS POLITICIANS WILL STOP TRYING TO F#@% US OVER WITH THIS F#@%ING BULLSHIT?!?
This is an abhorrent piece of legislation that has already been killed a half-dozen times, but now I am reading over at Boing Boing that it has once again been drug to the floor by the mentally-challenged Oregon Senator Gordon Smith, who is hereby invited to lick my balls.
Seriously lick my balls.
Once this draconian shit gets started, it will never stop. Never mind that you PAY for your television cable or satellite hook-up... that you PAY for the music and shows you enjoy... politicians want to be sure that you only enjoy them when and how THEY want you to. Flying an anti-piracy flag here is ludicrous, because there will ALWAYS be a way to pirate the crap... legislation only hurts honest consumers... not the pirates they claim to be fighting. And Hollywood should KNOW better. The more you treat honest people like criminals, the more of them will actually become criminals.
If you even remotely care about your right to watch and listen to content YOU pay for in a way that YOU want, read the article on Boing Boing and visit the EFF so you can send an email to your Senator. Then go encourage others to do the same. If you don't, it may only be a matter of time before you have to kiss your TiVo and iPod goodbye (and just forget about any cool new technologies that allow you to enjoy media in a way that's convenient for you).
Once this Bill is killed off (again) can we please just shoot the next dumbass Senator who is corrupt and stupid enough to bring another piece of "Broadcast Flag" legislation to the floor? That would be great.
The blogosphere is abuzz with the story of how the government wants Google to hand over search records so they can see how often porn is returned in the search results. Apparently having this information will protect kids from internet porn, which is much like trying to protect orange juice from being the color orange. Of course Google is going to sometimes return porn in search results because 90% of the internet IS PORN! Oh well, it's not like we've got health care and unemployment problems to worry about. Watching people's kids so parents don't have to bother is so much more important.
But after the government gets a look at the porn we're searching for... what's next?
I worry that Homeland Security will start wanting Google search records next. Not because I have anything to hide, but because search records are not always what they seem.
For example. I LOATHE Jared Fogle the Subway Sandwich whore.
Every time I hear how Jared "inspires people to eat better and lose weight with Subway Sandwiches" I want him dead. Because all he really does is inspire sales of Subway Sandwiches from people too stupid to understand what a fraud he is. Do you know why he chose Subway when he decided to try and lose weight? Because it was next door to his apartment. It was convenient. It's not like he went out and did a bunch of restaurant research for his diet. He was a lazy turd that ate at Subway because it was closest to where he lived.
He could have had salads at McDonalds and lost weight. He could have had sandwiches at Quiznos and lost weight. He could have eaten ANYWHERE and lost weight if he made healthier menu choices. There is nothing magical about Subways... it was because he decided to stop eating mass quantities of high-fat foods that he lost the weight. I could go into Subway twice a day and order up a sandwich loaded with extra cheese and a bunch of sauces and mayonnaise and GAIN weight. But you won't see a commercial for that. Does it really take Jared the Subway whore to tell people that eating a veggie sandwich with no cheese instead of three Big Macs will make you lose weight? Well, DUH! It's just common sense! When are people going to realize that Jared is not this altruistic prophet here to help you... HE'S JUST A WHORE SELLING SANDWICHES FOR MONEY! It's his JOB.
So that's why when I see commercials with Jared comparing a veggie sandwich with no cheese to a Big Mac, and telling people that they should eat at Subways because it's so much healthier... I want him dead. Why not compare a veggie sandwich to an Arby's SALAD you stupid f#@%?
And because I loathe Jared so badly, much of my free time is spent fantasizing of ways the whore can die. Sometimes it's pretty basic... I just walk up to the dumbass with a gun and shoot him or something...
Jared says: "I am such a whore that even I hate me!"
But on days where he is really pissing me off (like he comes out with a new idiotic Subways commercial), just shooting him isn't good enough. I want something much more elaborate and painful.
And that takes a lot of Google research.
Because it's not like I know how much battery acid it takes to melt somebody's head... I have to Google it. And when I need to know if it's possible to drown somebody in low-fat mustard... I have to Google it. If I am curious as to how many volts it takes to electrocute somebody through their testicles... I have to Google it. All this stuff has to be researched.
And what happens if Homeland Security sees this stuff that I'm Googling, decides that I'm some kind of sadistic terrorist, and then ships me off to have MY testicles electrocuted??
That would be bad.
Not to mention grossly unfair, because getting rid of Jared is more like a public service than an act of terrorism.
Anyway, that's why I think that Google shouldn't have to hand over any records. It can only lead to innocent people like me being shocked in their balls.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find out if low-fat turkey slices are still flammable once they've been shoved up somebody's ass.
My chapped lips rub roughly against the blanket as I awake with too little sleep yet again. From under the covers my arm reaches out to the night-stand, groping blindly for Chapstick. In darkness the lip balm burns with a kiss of peppermint, but my eyes have yet to open. I lay there clutching the small tube because it's too cold to return it to the night-stand. My mind goes cloudy and I start to drift. It's warm under the blankets and I'm in no hurry to leave them...
RRRRRRRRING! RRRRRRRRING! RRRRRRRRING!
While the number of calls I get have dropped drastically since the "National No-Call List" was enacted, they have not stopped completely. This time it was a travel club offer or some kind of crap like that. I don't really remember, because I was screaming "PUT ME ON YOUR DO-NOT CALL LIST AND NEVER, EVER CALL ME AGAIN!!" at the top of my lungs.
I spent the rest of my morning wishing that it were possible to shoot a gun into the phone and have an explosion come out the other end, just like in Bugs Bunny cartoons...
Maybe not a gun, that's kind of violent, but you should at least be able to bitch-slap somebody through the phone.
Although if you could shoot into your computer and have it come out and explode all over a spammer, I would definitely do that. The only thing I loathe more than telemarketers is spammers.
In better news, MRK over at Itch & Be Merry has finally figured out why I keep getting Google search referrals for "penis salad" out of the UK. Apparently the phrase was used in some kind of risque sitcom. At least I think it was a sitcom. The video clip MRK found was a bit vague, but I would certainly hope that any use of "penis salad" would be for comedic effect.
Eww... what if it was a reality TV show??
Here is my one word review of Brokeback Mountain from last night...
It was boring. Beyond boring. The cowboy love story was not enough of a story, and everything in-between was so mind-numbingly, coma-inducing, kill-me-now, BORING that I found myself counting ceiling tiles. Yes the cinematography was first rate and the scenery was pretty... but that doesn't excuse this long, drawn-out, snore-fest of a film. I remain positively dumbfounded that Brokeback Mountain is getting such critical acclaim. Between Heath Ledger mumbling every word of his incomprehensible dialogue and having to sit through long stretches of NOTHING, I can honestly say that this is one of the worst movies I've ever seen.
I never thought I would find myself looking forward to watching some hot man-on-man action but, since that was the only action to be found, there was nothing else to do. The story tried to show how society was so unforgiving of their love that they had no choice but to enter into straight marriages that neither were happy in. But the result was cliched and felt tacked on... as if stereotypical screaming babies and an unapproving father-in-law were supposed to be some kind of excuse for them to keep having feelings for each other. In the end, the wives who were being cheated on for the sake of forbidden romance were the more sympathetic characters. I always felt that Ennis and Jack's marriages should have been a sad result of something both wanted but weren't brave enough to have... but this didn't come across in the film. At least not to me.
On a more positive note, I'll bet the porn remakes are going to be entertaining...
The thing that surprised me most was not the actual movie, but that there were so many people there to watch it. Despite this being 2006, I live in a somewhat redneck area of Central Washington. To have a fairly good-sized audience of mostly older people at a 4:45 showing is remarkable. I can only hope that this indicates society is becoming more accepting of gay cowboys having sex. It would be nice to live in a world where consenting adults can have love and happiness wherever they are lucky enough to find it, and not have to worry about being judged or killed for it.
Overheard in the parking lot after the movie was over: "I nearly choked on my popcorn when that boy took that other fella from behind like that... heh heh heh, homos!"
Errr, well... maybe there's a ways to go yet, but at least the guy had a mind open enough to go watch a Western where the cowboys had been all homosexualized by the homosexualizations of those homosexualizers in Hollywood. That's a start.
Anyway, the night wasn't a total loss. Thanks to Michelle leaving me a hot tip in a comment, I was able to drop by Safeway and pick up a couple boxes of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch cereal for the bargain price of 2 for $5... score!
I wish I could quit you, Captain Crunch.
I don't really care about football because I'm more of a baseball kind of guy with an occasional basketball infatuation (college ball only, because pro basketball doesn't seem to be about basketball anymore). But even then, it's just entertainment and not a reason to go insane.
And yet if you live anywhere in the vicinity of the Pacific Northwest, odds are you are going out of your freakin' mind right now because the Seahawks have finally managed to make it to the SuperBowl. It's a pretty big deal here, or so I gather.
All I know is that every time I turn on a local television station lately, I've got to watch everyday citizens dressed up like clowns and acting like obnoxious douchebags...
People with blue hair. People with green hair. People with painted faces. People yelling and screaming... "WE'RE NUMBER ONE!!" and "STEELERS SUCK!!" — It's kind of like what I envision armageddon is going to be like.
Don't get me wrong. It's not like I have anything against people being all excited and having team spirit for fun... but the idiots that they're always showing on television act like rabid freaks who are in desperate need of therapy. I'll be very glad when football is over, though a bit frightened at the possibility of Seattle losing. I envision the Space Needle on fire and the city engulfed in chaos... the WTO riot of '99 is still fresh in my mind.
Anyway, for the sake of all my fellow Washingtonians who are dying to win the SuperBowl, I'll shout out my obligatory "Go Seahawks!" for the Showdown in Motown.
That's about all I can do, considering that winter storms have caused multiple avalanches on the mountain passes, and westward routes to Seattle are closed until further notice.
In even more disturbing news... whilst flicking through channels last night, I noticed that sicko pervert Pat O'Brien is back to hosting one of those boring Hollywood gossip shows. It is impossible for me to even look at the freak without having those disgusting drunken answering machine tapes playing in my head.
Was it too much to ask that he quietly disappear after being released from rehab?? As annoying as he was before all this, he's just plain creepy-scary now.
In other words, he's perfect for politics.
Last night I got an instant message from a guy I used to work with asking me if I remembered "the movie with that crazy singer who tore the panties off the blue woman that had Flash Gordon in it." I get asked bizarre movie trivia questions like this all the time, and am no longer surprised by them (the answer, of course, was My Chauffeur featuring Sam J. Jones, Deborah Foreman, and an appearance by Penn & Teller). What surprised me more was what came next:
"So, did you watch the State of the Union Address?" he inquired.
Uhhh... yeah... this would be me watching the State of the Union Address...
Once the blood stopped gushing from my eyes, ears, and rectum... and my brain stopped melting... and the screaming died down... I'm sure it would have been great fun. But, alas, I had a lot of really important things that needed to be done. Like walking my Nintendog and cleaning out the lint trap in my dryer.
Actually, that's a lie. I just don't want to admit that I'd rather light my pubes on fire and watch every Pauly Shore movie ever made while eating raw sewage than have to listen to President Bush (or most any other politician) speak for more than five minutes at a time.
I tried to at least read through the bullet points of the speech... but once I got to the line "America is addicted to oil" and thought back to how oil companies got 14.5 BILLION DOLLARS in government subsidies, then went on to report record profits... the screaming started again.
This annoys the neighbors, so I decided to give up.
Besides, I really do have to clean that lint trap.
BLOGOGRAPHY FLASHBACK ENTRY: Inaugural
BLOGDATE: January 21, 2005
In which Dave reviews the president's inaugural address, and notes some surprising omissions.
Click here to go back in time...
At some point in my childhood past, I had come to the conclusion that I was going to be a doctor.
But then I quickly realized that there is no way I could be a doctor because I didn't have the balls for it.
And when I say "balls" I am not trying to be all metaphorical... I am talking literal "balls". As in my testicles. Because any time I so much as hear somebody talking about blood or injuries or surgery or anything like that... my balls shrivel up and disappear. I think they're allergic to blood and gore or something. In any event, my testicles killed my medical vocation before I even got started. And you can just imagine how traumatizing it is for me to watch an episode of Grey's Anatomy, Nip/Tuck, or CSI.
But just because I abandoned my otherwise promising career as a doctor, I'm still not out of danger.
For instance, my mother had to call and drop this little bomb on me: "I sliced open my finger and had to go to the doctor to get stitches.
To understand how this simple sentence affects me... let's take a little field trip to Dyersville, Iowa, home of the Field of Dreams movie site. For the sake of this demonstration (and to avoid being tagged as a porn site), the role of my testicles will be played by these two baseballs in a GLAD brand jumbo-sized food storage bag (with the "yellow and blue make green" zipper closure, so you KNOW it's closed!)...
Once I hear the words "sliced my finger", my baseballs start shivering...
And once I hear the words "stitches", my GLAD brand jumbo-sized food storage bag starts to shrink in horror, taking my baseballs with it...
This leaves me with a pair of baseballs the size of marbles...
Obviously this affliction is a major inconvenience. Doctors have to look at blood and gore all the time, which would traumatize my balls quite badly. So badly that I would worry about them disappearing permanently. And as any guy will tell you (or, if you are a guy, you'd tell yourself) having something happen to your balls is a frightening prospect indeed.
Oh well. This is not the first time that my testicles have made a decision for me.
I'm relatively certain it won't be the last.
Anyway, speaking of balls (you just knew there was going to be a point to all this, didn't you?)...
How big of balls does it take to sell an episode of the TV show Survivor for $1.99... but then have the episode expire after 24 hours? For the answer, let's take a look at what Larry Kramer, President of CBS Digital Media, has hanging...
Yep! Those are some enormously huge balls! They'd have to be huge, considering that the $1.99 episodes you buy from Apple at the iTunes Music Store don't have an idiotic "self-destruct mechanism" that will destroy your purchases the day after you buy them. Once again, clueless people are making stupid decisions that will turn potential customers into criminals. Seriously... who is dumb enough to want to BUY a video that's only good for 24 hours when you can download the Bit Torrent off the internet for FREE that will last forever? The entire point of selling your show legally is to give honest people an alternative to illegal downloading... not ripping them off! Classic.
Congratulations Larry, my hat is off to you and your huge, huge balls!
This entry will self-destruct in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
The fact that I am vegetarian is a source of curiosity for many people. I suppose this is mostly because I am not a "militant" vegetarian who is hell-bent on making everybody else a vegetarian too. It's a choice I made for myself, and I don't force my dietary habits on other people. Since many vegetarians do feel the need to preach their views, this makes me a bit of an anomaly.
I first flirted with vegetarianism 20 years ago as a New Year's resolution in 1986. I only really liked hamburgers, bacon and pepperoni growing up anyway, and so it seemed like an easy step to take. Unfortunately, the local burger joints kept tempting me back to the life of a carnivore, and I never made it more than three months at a time. Come Thanksgiving, I had given up completely, because I wanted a slice of dead turkey pretty bad.
Fast-forward a year-and-a-half. I was dating a girl who was a vegetarian. She was very vocal about animal rights, and made compelling arguments against eating animals. After a couple weeks of pestering, I finally kicked the meat habit on Earth Day, March 1988, because my girlfriend promised to make it worth my while. And while she lived up to her promise, we only lasted another couple weeks before breaking up.
But the diet has stuck ever since.
Part of it is for health reasons, but mostly it's because I can't make the leap from this...
And I have to wonder how many other people would continue to eat meat if they had to slaughter it themselves. It's easy to become detached from where meat really comes from when it comes so nicely packaged at the supermarket. I also wonder if people would be willing to pay the price to eat meat if the US government were to stop subsidizing the industry. Without billions in taxpayer dollars, a hamburger would cost around $14.00... would people be willing to pay it when suddenly a veggie burger was so cheap by comparison?
Anyway, vegetarianism fits neatly into my Buddhist way of thinking, so I am quite happy to stay the course. And while I am (unfortunately) still eating unfertilized eggs, milk, cheese, and other dairy, I can safely say that I won't be eating meat ever again. I seem to be much healthier because of it, and am happy to contribute to a diet that's not destroying the planet.
So while I don't begrudge people who choose to eat dead animals, eating less meat or becoming a vegetarian is easier than ever. Why not give meat-free options a chance next time you're at the grocery store or eating at a restaurant... you might be surprised.
On the other hand... boy do I miss pepperoni pizza.
I honestly try not to repeat myself whenever it comes time to write something new... but every once in a while, I just can't help it.
Such is the case with the idiot in Louisiana who is suing Apple because "listening to an iPod with the volume too loud can cause hearing loss". I've already ranted about it, but the story keeps coming up in the news and, every time it does, I just keep getting more and more furious. The fact that somebody can sue over something so incredibly stupid causes my blood to boil, and I cannot let it go. I want very badly to bitch-slap somebody, but society has made stupid shit like this acceptable, so what can you do? I mean, if a woman can be awarded millions of dollars because she wasn't careful with a scalding-hot cup of coffee, then nothing surprises me.
Pretty soon, everything is going to be plastered with disclaimers and those little "NO" illustrations, which I like to call "DUMBASS PROTECTION". You know, those little pictures with the slash through them that you see everywhere...
And why stop there? I mean, if you don't know any better than to not play the volume on your iPod too loud... then other sublimely obvious crap is going to need Dumbass Protection as well...
And the list goes on and on.
Just take a look around the room you're in, select an item, come up with something insanely stupid to do with it that might result in injury, then SUE LIKE A MUTHA-F#@%A!! Apparently, it's the American way: baseball, apple pie, and frivolous lawsuits.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have legal proceedings to file against Ticonderoga, Fiskars, and Zippo. Blogography: Your class-action lawsuit clearing house!
BLOGOGRAPHY FLASHBACK ENTRY: All-American Booty Call
BLOGDATE: July 4, 2003
In which Dave questions how 6 grams of fat on some daft bitch's ass could possibly be worth fifty million dollars.
Click here to go back in time...
Most everything I buy now-a-days is purchased online. And one of my most favorite places to shop is Buy.com.
They're a solid, reliable company with a huge selection at very good prices. I like that they make it easy to manage my orders. Their shopping cart is great. They accept PayPal for payment. They ship quickly. Their policies are fair, and most of the time I can count on everything going smoothly when I place an order.
All-in-all, Buy.com is a great place to buy stuff.
Unless something goes wrong.
Because if something goes wrong, you will inevitably have to contact Customer Service. And Buy.com Customer Service sucks ass. Every single time I have had to deal with them, I end up so enraged that I want to kill somebody. If you ever hear in the news that I've gone on a murderous rampage and then locked myself in a donut shop somewhere, it's Buy.com Customer Service that's probably the cause of it.
And the reason for this is because the only thing they ever seem to do to service their customers is to send out piece-of-shit generic responses that usually have nothing to do with the question you asked. I've come to the conclusion that there can be two reasons for this...
A) They don't have actual people in their Customer Service Department, but instead have a big machine that automatically generates these stupid generic responses to your emails...
B) Their entire Customer Service Department is staffed by monkeys with PCs...
Because, seriously, there is no way that real-live people could be responsible for the shitty service you get. Real-dead people maybe, but I'm pretty sure it's illegal to employ the deceased.
Take for example my efforts to pre-order a copy of Pauly's new book: The Lost Blogs.
The book is offered for pre-order at Buy.com for the bargain-basement price of $10.04. They tell you to "place your order today and be one of the first to receive this product when it arrives!" I just love being first, and so I did. I placed my pre-order, then marked May 1st on my calendar with a happy face, because that's the day my book would ship.
Except Buy.com cancels my order after a week with some generic email telling me that they can't get the item from the publisher in a timely manner. Well no shit! It says right on the site that it's not available for three months! I knew this when I placed the order!
I send an email asking why they would ask me to place a pre-order, then cancel because the item isn't available.
They write back with another dumbass generic response that just tells me the exact same thing they told me in the cancellation notice email. I respond with my question re-phrased to make it clear what I am asking, but never get a response.
Thinking perhaps there was a release date change and it's some kind of error, I place ANOTHER ORDER.
Only to have it cancelled AGAIN.
And so AGAIN I write to Buy.com Customer Service asking why the f#@% they even bother to accept pre-orders if they are going to f#@%ing cancel them before the release date even arrives.
Another idiotic generic response about the item not being available. WELL NO SHIT YOU MORON!! THAT'S WHAT A PRE-ORDER IS FOR!!
So I finally take a difference approach and fire off a fresh email asking if the reason my order keeps getting cancelled is because I am paying with PayPal. I theorize that there is probably a time-frame that companies are obligated to ship the product when they take your money, and perhaps this is the reason? Is that why? Can they just delay processing the payment until the item is available... just like they don't charge your credit card until something ships?
Same f#@%ing generic response that in NO WAY even comes CLOSE to answering my question.
Ergo, nobody reads any emails that you send to Buy.com Customer Service. It's either a machine or monkeys. And it's not that I have a problem with companies using generic responses... IF THEY ANSWER THE F#@%ING QUESTION, but how the f#@% can you possible call this kind of treatment "Customer Service?" It's more like "Customer Torture".
And so now every time I need to buy something, I have to ask myself if Buy.com is someplace I really want to shop. Sure it's great when everything works out, but heaven-help you if it doesn't. If this is the price of saving money on things I want, I'd rather pay the extra and know that I'll be taken care of when things go wrong.
Last year, I made a photo Valentine greeting, and I got some nice comments and emails because of it.
I also got some rather disturbing emails because of it. In fact, I continue to get disturbing emails even to this day because of it, mostly because the image is also in my Flickr image set. I blame Hello Kitty.
Anyway, this year I decided to play it safe and draw my Valentine for everybody...
Hope your Valentine's Day is a good one!
BLOGOGRAPHY FLASHBACK ENTRY: Heart
BLOGDATE: February 14, 2004
In which Dave contemplates love, and the bitches who rip out your heart so they can watch you die.
Click here to go back in time...
When you design stuff for a living, people automatically assume that you have one of the most funnest jobs ever. Probably because when you're a kid, drawing crappy pictures to put on the refrigerator is loads of big fun. But alas, like so many things, once something becomes work... well, the fun is kind of sucked out of it. The pressure to be creative under a deadline is probably one of the more stressful jobs you can have.
I'd put it right up there with neurosurgeon and bomb squad technician.
Basically, if you mess up in our line of work, somebody is going to die.
Anyway... because everybody thinks that drawing pretty pictures all day is like a non-stop party, they feel that they are doing you a big favor when they call up and say "hey, I need you to design something for me". And because I'm a sucker nice guy, I usually go ahead and do it if I can find the time. I design menus and invitations. I draw birthday banners and CD covers. I create posters and advertising. It's an endless parade of little projects which everybody tells me "will only take a few minutes" (ha ha ha ha).
The latest trend is people asking me to design their tattoos, like this one I drew up yesterday...
This is particularly painful for me, because I've always wanted a bad-ass tattoo of my own. Unfortunately, I could never manage to pull-off being "bad-ass". This is about as "bad-ass" as I can get...
Needless to say, having a cool flaming demon skull tattoo is not an option when you look like Gumby.
And so I have to continue to draw awesome tattoos for everybody but me.
Except I still want one.
So my option here is to try and come up with something that my boyish charm can pull-off. Something totally lacking in hostility. Something that is bad-ass, but in a "non-threatening" kind of way. I'm thinking that it will end up being something like one of these...
My other tattoo is a flaming demon skull. This one is pretty self-explanatory. It gives me the ability to imply that although the tattoo you are currently looking at is fairly reserved, somewhere else on my body is another one that's truly bad-ass. My only fear is that somebody will then be inclined to go looking for it.
Cartoon Skull. Though there is no way I can pull-off a realistic-looking skull and crossbones, I'm fairly certain that a cartoon version could work for me. It says "I'm bad-ass", but not so bad-ass that I have to worry about somebody mistaking me for an ass-kicking tough-guy, and want to fight me.
Bad Monkey. Because, well, you know... everybody just loves a monkey.
Garden Snake & Flaming Heart with Liz. This tattoo kind of covers all the bases. Since a scary serpent would be difficult for me to wear convincingly, I settled for a harmless garden snake. The flaming heart is a tattoo classic, but by making it look like something out of Hello Kitty, I don't risk anybody thinking that I want to rip their heart out and set it on fire. And lastly, I've got "Liz" in there so I can proclaim my love of Elizabeth Hurley and impress her with my dedication once fate brings us together.
Now if only I could decide where I want to put it after I pick the design...
But today everything went terribly wrong.
And I should have known that it would because I was given an Omen of Doom on my way to the bank.
As I reached the intersection, I suddenly noticed that there was nobody around. No traffic. No people. No sound. No anything. It was highly unusual. Naturally, I assumed that The Rapture had just occurred, and I had been Left Behind. Just for fun, I yelled "OH LORD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!?"
Only to realize that there was a woman standing right behind me.
I am now officially one of those crazy people who wanders the streets talking to themselves about the world ending.
I suppose it was only a matter of time...
Anyway, I get to the bank's ATM only to find out that my card doesn't work. Turns out that the credit card company accidentally released all their card numbers AGAIN, and so it had to be replaced "for security reasons". Dumbasses.
But it's when I finally get to the mini-mart that the real tragedy occurs...
THEY ARE NO LONGER CARRYING MY BELOVED COKE WITH LIME!!!
Once again I find myself screaming "OH LORD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!?"
And so now I am left wondering if the Coke-heads have discontinued it or what. I suppose now it's only a matter of time before I become a rent boy, walking the street with the promise of sexual favors in exchange for feeding my Coke habit...
Coke bastards! The item replacing Coke with Lime is called "Vault" and it appears to be a rediculous hybrid of soda and energy drink. That's some stupid shit right there... if I want a frickin' energy drink, I'll buy a Red Bull.
In protest, I decided to skip on Coke products and buy a Dr. Pepper instead.
Except now that I've opened the bottle, I realize that it's not REAL Dr. Pepper... it's Dr. Pepper with Vanilla and Cherry flavorings. YARGH! I HATE CHERRY FLAVORING!!
I'm having a very bad day.
And so the doctor says...
"Well, I have some good news and I have some bad news. The good news is that your stone is very close to being passed, and you should be clear sometime today. The bad news is that the CAT-scan reveals you have another stone lodged up in your kidney. It won't cause any pain until it comes loose and passes through... but that could be 10 minutes from now or 10 years from now. We really have no way of knowing."
And Dave says...
As fun as this was, I really have no desire to ever do it again, but there you have it. I'm holding on to my drugs, so at least I can medicate myself through this crap when it happens again.
Though I am having a hard time deciding whether the nausea and vomiting that the pain medication causes is worse than the actual pain.
In other news: Little Debbie Chocolate Cupcakes are just as delicious coming up as they are going down!
Any minute now...
Maybe it's because I've just gone through a terrible and traumatic event in my life... but I feel the need to be more active in world events. I have an urge to fight injustice and make this earth a better place for all mankind and the creatures who inhabit her. Kidney stones will do that to you.
And it is with this new-found strength that I have been given the courage to stand up for my beliefs and confront people who I feel are doing something wrong. Even people who I consider friends.
People like Karla.
For quite a while now I've been enjoying her daily exploits as a Texan living in Norway via her witty and entertaining blog called Tales of a Textpatriate. She always has a way of taking the chaos out of my day. A way of bringing order to a universe gone mad. A comforting voice of reason amongst the horrors of my existence. But today all that changed. Today she wrote about something so disturbing that I feel compelled to act.
Karla admitted that she wears fur.
And not just any fur, but the fur of the rare and beautiful faux.
Karla is a faux fur wearer.
At first I thought that she didn't know any better. I sought to educate her as to the cruel nature of the faux fur industry. But she shows no remorse. She told me to "faux off" and when I told her I would be blogging about her reprehensible faux fur wearing lifestyle... she replied in the comments: "you faux right ahead... I faux dare you... faux bitch!!"
And how can I not?
So today. Right here. Right now. I am starting a campaign to save the fauxs from their tragic fate...
It's just not right in this day and age that people are still wearing faux fur. I feel it is my duty to spread the word and help bring an end to this barbaric practice. To argue my case, I've done a little research...
And there you have it. Faux furriers spend millions to hide the true nature of their savagery by advertising that "faux fur is a cruelty-free alternative to other furs". I say ENOUGH! It's time that people learn the TRUTH about faux fur and the entire faux fur industry. I hope you will join me in boycotting faux fur products as a truly inhumane fashion accessory. I can only hope that Karla has a change of heart, and can see that faux fur is nothing more than a life of pain and suffering for innocent creatures who deserve better at our hands.
How is it that we can put a man on the moon, but can't find a way to manufacture fake faux fur??
Thanks to a suggestion from Rach, I decided to make my own bank checks. It's only $20 for 150 of them, and you can rotate through four separate designs if you want. Since I've already made my own stamps, I figured "why not?" I don't think that you can use photos of other people without permission, so Elizabeth Hurley checks are not an option... and I'm certainly not going to put photos of myself on them. Guess it's going to be a bunch of DaveToons then.
The hard part is trying to pick toons that will work in such a severe horizontal format. I did the best I could, and am mostly happy with the results.
Big fun! I need to start customizing everything... I want my own glassware, dinnerware, and cutlery. My own shoes, socks, and boxer shorts. My own toothbrushes, shower curtains, and condoms. I definitely want my own line of erotic sex toys (which may be considered "Not Safe for Work" and are pictured in an extended entry)...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
Am I the only one who delights in the misfortune of dumbasses?
I don't know what's wrong with me, because my Buddhist leanings are all about love and respect for my fellow humans, yet I just can't seem to feel badly for stupid people when they do stupid things. Can't do it. Maybe my sympathy gene was misplaced somehow?
Or perhaps it's just because I am pure evil...
This morning I had to provide chauffeur services for somebody needing a ride. After dropping them off, it was still early, and I was hungry enough to eat breakfast at McDonalds while I waited. Sure the food will kill you, but I'm facing 40 and am totally ready to die.
So there I am just pulling into the McDonalds parking area, when I see this car entering from the opposite side of the lot. Much to my surprise, they all of a sudden floor it, and come screaming across the pavement in my direction. At first I thought that I had somehow been transported into the movie Death Race 2000, but then I realized that they were just trying to beat me to the drive-through.
Except I wasn't going to the drive-through.
But they didn't know that, and decided to race me for it...
... and ended up ramming their spiffy new truck right into the curb because they were going too fast and couldn't stop in time.
After parking my car, I noticed that the driver had gotten out of his truck to inspect the damage, and it looked like one of his rims took a bit of a beating. This made him mad. Very mad. Very, very mad. He was saying words that I don't think were intended to be said at McDonalds.
I'm sure he probably blames me for this somehow... dumbasses always do.
I thought it was funny, so I just laughed at him as I went to buy an Egg McMuffin (sans ham).
Evil, I tell you.
When you live in a small town, your options for eating out are limited. We have a fine dining restaurant, a family restaurant, a pizzeria, a burger drive-through, and something like 37 Mexican restaurants (give or take). Unless you want to eat Mexican for a month, you only really have a week's worth of variety (and even that's pushing it, because they all feature mostly hamburgers on the menu).
And if you're vegetarian like me, only about 3% of what they serve is edible to you.
Last year a new restaurant opened up selling "Authentic Pulled Pork BBQ" which has since turned out to be a fairly popular place to eat. If you like shredded dead pig and loads of barbecue sauce on a bun, it's the restaurant for you.
I affectionately refer to it as the "Little Shop of Horrors". Mostly because of me doing the vegetarian thing, but the fact that they blast country music at full volume and have redneck decor everywhere is the real kicker...
And yet this is probably what everybody from outside of the US thinks that all restaurants here are like (at least the ones that aren't McDonalds or Kentucky Fried Chicken). They could be right. I'm pretty sure that this is what the cafeteria at The White House looks like now.
But they make a decent potato salad and have good cornbread (with honey butter!), so I drop by every once in a while when I can't think of anything better to eat for lunch.
I just ignore the stench of roasting animal carcasses and try not to think of what goes on in that kitchen...
Or what they have to do to get their "pulled pork"...
Which ends up looking like something that dropped out of a diarrhetic yak's ass...
Bleh. It's Rush Limbaugh on a bun! Bon appetite.
I've written ad nauseam about my profound disappointment in the United States Government to provide adequate health care for its citizens, but it's never been written from personal experience. It's always been an observation of other people struggling... elderly people who can't afford to buy medicine... people who can't afford to go to the doctor when they get sick... things like that.
Because today I received my medical bill from the little trip I took to the emergency room for kidney stones a couple weeks ago. The grand total? $2762.77, which is about the price of a brand new, top-of-the-line Apple Power Mac G5.
The good part (if you really look for it) is that I have health insurance to help out. Unfortunately, my deductible means I have to pay $1250 before my insurance actually kicks in, which is about the price of a new Apple iMac.
In order to help people like me with that deductible, the government is generously allowing its citizens to create "Health Savings Accounts", where you are allowed to put in your deductible amount each year, and not pay taxes on it. So I go to open up my HSA at the bank today, only to find that any account with a balance under $2500 will have a monthly service fee of $2.50. And since my account will have a balance of $0 after I pay out for my expenses, I will be effectively paying $30.00 a year to save any money on my taxes.
What a brilliant f#@%&ing idea.
Seriously, when are people going to get sick of this shit and start rioting in the streets? How much worse does it really have to get?
American citizens have to pay huge insurance premiums that still result in huge bills... but not huge enough to deduct from your taxes (unless said expenses exceed 7.5% of your income). Bad enough that the wealthiest nation on the planet makes us pay for all this shit in the first place... but to tax you on top of it? WHAT THE F#@&?!?
If the government is going to make me pay my own medical expenses so I can stay healthy, thus be able to work, thus be able to pay taxes on what I actually earn... why should I have to pay taxes on ANY medical expense? Would they rather we just not go to the doctor and die? How can you collect taxes from somebody who's DEAD you dumbass f#@%ers?!? Are you trying to encourage people to not earn any money so they can go on welfare and get their medical care that way? Stupid. Stupid. STUPID!!
Does this make sense to anybody? Anybody at all?
You shouldn't need to pay a bank $30 to save a minimal amount on your taxes if you need medical attention... you should be able to claim ANY medical expenses on your taxes as a deduction simply by saving a receipt. This is the least... the absolute VERY LEAST... our government can do for the people they are f#@%ing over.
Happy f#@%ing St. Patrick's Day.
As a big fan of the original graphic novel by Alan Moore and David Lloyd, I was very nervous about V for Vendetta being turned into a movie. After all, Moore's previous works League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and From Hell were positively butchered in the translation to film, and the odds of V bucking this trend seemed unlikely.
As it turned out, the result wasn't half bad. Sure several characters and events were changed, but I think the Wachowski Brothers did capture a bit of what made the original story so great...
The problem is that the context of the book when I first read it fifteen years ago was very different than now. Back then, the Orwellian world in the story echoed a possible future... today it seems to be a likely future. Because of that, the movie seems like a clumsy attempt at socio-political commentary instead of the elegant revelation it was when Moore wrote it.
In any event, this tale of an oppressed future society and its masked terrorist liberator is still worth a look as a film or, better yet, even more amazing if read from the book as it was originally intended.
Then you can be V too...
...and understand why the ending of the book is SO much cooler than what's in the movie.
With tons of work to get through this weekend, I spent most of my time in front of the television with my laptop in an attempt to get caught up. I always like to work with the TV running in order to mask ambient noise, and this time I decided on a Dr. Who DVD that a friend gave me to watch, followed by a marathon of classic Star Trek episodes.
It doesn't get much geekier than that.
Until I start watching all my Buffy The Vampire Slayer DVDs.
I have wonderful, amazing news.
Incredible, spectacular, miraculous news.
As I was heading home yesterday, I stopped at the mini-mart and found out that my beloved Coke with Lime is back! Sometimes begging and pleading actually works. What I am not sure of is if this is old stock that the Coke Man is trying to get rid of... or if it really hasn't been discontinued, and they were just going to stop selling it at that one store until I complained.
Oh well, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. For now, I'm just happy I can still buy it...
Coke with Lime kicks ass.
In other news: Ha ha. HAH HA HA HAAAHHH! BWAAAAAHH HAAAHH HA HAAAAAAHHH!
Maybe they should call it "Windows VAPOR"?
For crying out loud... just buy a Mac and be done with it.
As for me? I'm going to Daveland...
It's the place to sing a happy song.
Grab your wallet and come along!
It's the place to have a great day.
Bring your money to pay pay pay!
It's the place where fun times begin.
Give us cash or you ain't gettin' in.
Dave how we love you!
Today I am forty years old.
That's a lot of years. Where did it all go?
Still, I can't complain. I've done a lot of things in my life, am fortunate to have seen a bit of the world, am relatively healthy, and have terrific friends and family to get me through the day. I guess that makes me a lucky guy (if I believed in luck, which I don't).
But forty... wow. A pity that I still act like a 12-year-old, but everybody has their issues.
Anyway, I guess I'm ready to die now.
Not that I want to die, I'm just saying... if it happens, I'm okay with it.
And if I get to choose how I'm going to die, I think it would go something like this...
The good news is that being dead gives me a terrific new DaveToon to draw...
And just for the record, Bad Monkey did not die from a marathon love-making session with Elizabeth Hurley. He died from an overdose of Coke with Lime.
Happy birthday to me.
Yesterday I made the mistake of visiting Brookstone and trying out one of those magical computerized "massage chairs". You sit down and press buttons that makes the chair come alive and give you a massage. There are a variety of modes to choose from... you can get a Swedish massage, a Shiatsu massage, or anything in-between. You can get a hard massage or a soft massage. You can have a heated massage or a vibrating massage. You can even have the chair massage your ass.
I turned on everything.
It was actually painful. But in a good way.
It was SO good, that I had to resist the urge to touch myself inappropriately...
By the time it was over, I was ready to buy. But there were three problems...
After goofing around the East-side this afternoon, I said goodbye to my friends there and headed Seattle-side.
Since our Cabo San Lucas plans were scuttled, my friend and I decided to stay downtown so she could take me out for birthday dinner and we could wander around the Market in the morning. We would have taken a look tonight, but everything was closing just as we arrived. The sunset was nice though...
Our room overlooks the new Seattle Public Library. This freaky building seems interesting, and sure photographs nicely from a distance...
Unfortunately, it looks like total crap from street level. Kind of like they took six really cool buildings, then smashed them all together at unpleasant angles or something. Not a pretty picture to me, but it does have its fans.
And now, if you'll excuse me, it's ice cream time.
ICE CREEEEAM!! ICE CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAM!!
Oh yeah... thanks to everybody who was kind enough to send their birthday wishes... I feel much loved. :-)
You know... just when you think things can't get any shittier, that's usually when they do.
Thanks to a lot of hard work and the kindness of one incredibly generous person, I am very close to climbing out of the nightmare of getting my blog re-hosted. It has been a totally crappy four days, but it's almost over. Then BLAM! I get f#@%ed by PayPal!
This lovely piece of email lands in my inbox...
PayPal is committed to maintaining a safe environment for its community of buyers and sellers. Our team employs the most advanced systems in the world to protect the security of your account.
During a recent review of our system, we determined that you received funds from an account that reportedly has been associated with possible unauthorized use. In accordance with PayPal's Seller Protection Policy, the following transaction has been reversed...
THEY accepted the charge, and yet it's MY problem?
And what kind of bullshit is "POSSIBLE unauthorized use"??
It's POSSIBLE that aliens have replaced world leaders with pod people. It's POSSIBLE that Elvis is still alive. It's POSSIBLE that PayPal is a giant scam. It's POSSIBLE that diamonds might shoot out of my ass...
So PayPal steals MY F#@&ING MONEY because of a "possible" problem. No proof is offered. I'm just supposed to take their word for it. No mention on whether they will reinstate my money if the charge is proved to be valid. No mention on me getting any evidence whatsoever as to this ALLEGED claim of "unauthorized use".
This is bullshit.
I wrote and asked for the evidence that this is, IN FACT, an unauthorized charge. Who knows if I will ever see it. I'm probably just f#@%ed, which is fantastic. Not only am I going to be out $12.90... I'm also out $4.05 in shipping... and $7.95 in shirt and materials.
I just had to pay hundreds of dollars to host my blog, and now T-shirts that I sell at near-cost out of the goodness of my heart, have just screwed me out of $25.
What's coming next?
UPDATE: I got an email from somebody saying: "If somebody stole YOUR credit card and bought a shirt don't you think that you should get your money back? Being ripped off by credit card thieves is part of owning a business and you need to grow up". First of all... the person who bought the shirt has no idea why the transaction was flagged as "possible unauthorized use" - NEITHER OF US DO! Even better, the buyer didn't even know that there was a problem until I wrote and told them! PayPal never bothered to contact them! So basically, PayPal says there is a "possible problem" but there is NO evidence provided to either buyer OR seller, and THAT is what I am upset about. And this is not an email scam, because the reversal of the money credit is showing up in my PayPal account. Second of all... Even if there IS fraud, "my business" WAS NOT THE ONE WHO TOOK THE CREDIT CARD! PayPal accepted the credit card! And they aren't doing it for FREE, I get billed fees every time. I mean, seriously... if I was the one who took the card and the charge was bogus... is it fair that I turn around and bill the company who printed the shirts for my loss?? No. In any event PayPal needs to provide evidence that there is wrong-doing OR GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK!!
LINK OF THE YEAR: I keep forgetting to mention THE TRUTH. This is where I get all my news... Ze does the thinking, so I don't have to. Somebody give him a correspondent gig on The Daily Show ASAP.
If you hadn't already guessed, I am a very self-centered person. The entire world revolves around me, and if something doesn't affect me, I really don't care about it. In order to understand the New World Order, I have made these helpful illustrations to explain it to you...
It's quite simple, really. Some people might call me a narcissist, but I prefer to think of it as "reality". Unfortunately, not everybody understands how reality is supposed to work.
Here's an example...
I am terrible at remembering dates. I can barely remember when my own birthday is, let alone somebody else's birthday. This can be quite embarrassing with my friends, and so I've come up with a way to fix it. What I do is go to the Hallmark Card Shop at the beginning of every year and buy about thirty "Happy Belated Birthday" cards. I fill them all out for my friends and stick them in my sock drawer. Then, when I find out that it's my birthday, I realize that other people have birthdays too, and so I go to my sock drawer and mail the belated birthday wished to all my friends.
It's not a perfect system, but I've been doing it for years and it works for me.
Except this year I even forgot about the cards, so they didn't get mailed until a week ago.
Then this morning I get a phone call...
Mobile Phone: Ring! Ring! Ring!
Meagan: YOU ASSHOLE! IT'S BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU FORGET MY BIRTHDAY EVERY YEAR AND SEND ME THIS BELATED SHIT... BUT NOW YOU ARE SENDING BELATED-BELATED BIRTHDAY CARDS?!? WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO WORK THE CALENDAR IN YOUR COMPUTER?!? IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK THAT YOU TYPE MY F#@%ING NAME IN SO THAT I ACTUALLY GET A BIRTHDAY CARD ON MY BIRTHDAY? WHAT THE F#@%?!?!
Dave: Uhhhh. Okay. When is your birthday again?
Meagan: AGAIN?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN "AGAIN"?? YOU NEVER KNEW IT IN THE FIRST PLACE! MY BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW ASSHOLE!! EVERY YEAR YOU SEND ME A BELATED CARD 330 DAYS LATE, BUT THIS YEAR YOU ACTUALLY SENT IT ON TIME, BUT YOU DIDN'T KNOW THAT, AND SO HERE I AM GETTING THIS BELATED SHIT!!
Dave: Yes. I can see how you might be upset about that...
Meagan: UPSET?!? UPSET?!?! DO I EVER F#@%ING FORGET YOUR F#@%ING BIRTHDAY? NO! AND DO YOU KNOW WHY?!? BECAUSE I KNOW HOW TO USE A F#@%ING CALENDAR!!
Dave: That is pretty bad. Hey, did you watch Veronica Mars last night?
Meagan: Oh yeah... can you believe that XXXX totally XXXX to XXXX and got him XXXX in that stadium? How cool was that?*
(* mad-libbed to prevent spoilerage)
I think I'm safe.
Until next year, anyway.
But here's the problem. That card was actually for last year's birthday. And so now I am confused as to what to do. Since her birthday is tomorrow, I could send a new card for this year's birthday, but it would have to be another belated card because it won't get there tomorrow. But if I send a belated card, then that means I have to remember not to send another belated card next year for this year. But if I do that, then forget to send the card the next year, then this year's card should have been for next year's birthday, but it says "belated" when it really isn't.
Crap. Maybe this actually would be a lot easier if I learned how to work my calendar.
Hopefully Veronica Mars will get a third season, because then I can worry about this in 2008 and focus on more important things. Like me.
Cheaters! I have cheaters reading my blog!
Ever since moving to a new hosting company, I've been closely monitoring my error stats to see if there's anything that needs to be fixed. Today when I checked, I noticed a bunch of people typing in "lostblogs/daythree.html" and "lostblogs/daythr.html" and "lostblogs/day3.html" - apparently looking for the next "lost blogger" entry a day early (even though it didn't exist yet). Cheaters!
Ha! I can only DREAM about being organized enough to write something a day in advance.
Sorry, but everything at Blogography is baked fresh daily, baby!
Most of my entries are written first thing in the morning (like today!). I wake up, grab my trusty PowerBook to check my email, and something pops into my head to write or draw. If it turns out okay, I post it. But most of the time I let it sit until my lunch break so I can read it over and make sure I didn't say anything stupid. But since I always say something stupid, I usually try to make it less stupid and then post it. On rare occasions I can't think of anything to write about, and it's not until dinnertime that I get around to writing. In any event, I don't write ahead. Even while lost-blogging, which I'll be cooking up after this.
Oh, and before I forget... I have the bestest blog posse ever (yes, this means you!). Two days ago I was lamenting over my broken links and got a suggestion from Blogography reader Wejn on how to fix it. When I didn't understand what to do... he wrote the fix for me. I've installed it, and now my problems are solved. How cool is that? Thanks Wejn! An extra Blogography cookie for you today, fresh from the oven!
And while I am passing out cookies, I cannot forget about Bre, who left the 7000th comment here yesterday. Congratulations Bre, You just won a Blogography T-Shirt! Email me your address and the size you want to claim your prize.
And in non-baking-related news...
There's another "Lost Blogs" entry over at DaveSpace! Click here to read it!
I am hopelessly addicted to reading all 40 participants now, and many of them are getting really interesting!
Those of you wanting to make guesses as to my "lost blogger's" identity should send me an email at the address in my sidebar. Comments with guesses will not be approved! Who knows, there might be a prize for the first person to guess correctly! But remember the rules... you only get ONE GUESS... so make sure you're sure about who it is before contacting me, because any subsequent guesses by the same person will be tossed out. Good luck!
If you want to learn more about Pauly's book (or pre-order a copy), visit The Lost Blogs site!
I wish I had a dollar for every time I've dropped the F-Bomb today.
Nothing, and I mean nothing has gone right today. On top of all that, my internet connection has been flakey (at best), so being able to catch up on email and the various blogs I enjoy has been an exercise in futility. At first I was blaming my DSL connection, but now it looks like it must be my piece-of-crap DSL/wireless hub that's the problem.
I am very close to soaking it in gasoline and lighting it on fire... but I'm fairly certain that this would void my warranty.
And so I spend my time swearing instead...
And to top it all off, I get a call from Bad Robert informing me that a friend of ours whom we haven't seen in months had died back in February (isn't it time that they invent a cure for cancer?). He was an incredibly generous and decent human being, and it makes me sad to know that somebody like him is gone from this earth.
Robert then goes on a rant for ten full minutes about how he wishes that he would win a billion dollars so that he could quit his job and devote the rest of his life to hunting down spammers and killing them. It almost makes me wish that I had a billion dollars to give him.
After I hang up the phone, I call another one of our friends to let her know about the death, only to learn that she lost her job last Friday. Her position has been outsourced. This leads me to wonder if there is any job that WON'T be outsourced in the near-future. I picture a day when you pull up to a McDonald's drive-through and somebody from India answers on the speaker-box. Tech-sector jobs (which we were all told would be the future of employment in America) are disappearing at an alarming rate. Pretty soon the only job left will be for lawyers, and then everybody will spend their time suing each other to make a living. Sounds like Utopia to me.
Internet connection willing, I hope to have the Artificial Duck Store open again tomorrow night. Then everybody can pre-order their $10-off shirts and be blissfully happy.
Hey, given what happened today, I fully believe "happiness" is an entirely relative term.
Ever since I read that Hello Kitty Pop-Tarts are being released over at Timothy's blog, I've wanted them. Days of searching at local grocery stores turned up nothing, and so I started telling everybody I know to help me look. My Hello-Kitty Pop-Tart search eventually involved a dozen people in four states. Finally, after I had reached suicidal-levels of despair that I would never find Hello Kitty Pop-Tarts, my mom found them at the local Fred Meyer (hey, you really do "find it at Freddies!").
Behold the grandeur that is Hello Kitty Pop-Tarts...
BACKGROUND: I've long held a fascination with Hello Kitty, but not in the way you are probably thinking (i.e., I don't have my bedroom decorated in Hello Kitty merchandise, nor do I wear Hello Kitty clothing). Nope, my obsession stems from two things: 1) My love of Japan from my travels there, and 2) The elegant simplicity that defines the "Hello Kitty Look". As you might guess, Hello Kitty was a big influence when creating my cartoon persona...
HISTORY: Hello Kitty was created in 1974 by Sanrio graphic designer Ikuko Shimizu as one in a line of several "characters" for the company. Her popularity eventually escalated her to near cult status, and she is easily one of the most well-known Japanese exports of the last couple of decades. Remaining popular both in Japan and abroad, Hello Kitty can be found on everything from toys and stationery to toilet paper and vibrators. There is some question as to whether Hello Kitty was inspired by Dutch cartoon icon "Miffy" (created 1955 by Dick Bruna), but most people have written this off as a coincidence.
ASSOCIATES: Hello Kitty is often found in the company of her many friends, including Cathy the bunny, Tim & Tammy the monkeys, Tippy the bear, and (ironically) her pet cat Charmmy Kitty. Hello Kitty's full name is "Kitty White", and she has a twin sister name "Mimmy".
PACKAGING: Hello Kitty "Meow-Berry" Pop-Tarts are made by Kelloggs, and is just one out of dozens of Pop-Tart flavors. They are sold in boxes of twelve and are conveniently foil-wrapped in six two-packs. They weigh-in at 22 ounces and you can buy a box for under $3.00. In addition to the front panel (shown above), there is also a game on the back...
Colorful, and well-rendered in Hello Kitty Style, it's a search puzzle to locate as many bows as you can find. The answer is printed inside the carton, and I ended up missing two because they were so small or obscured as to be unrecognizable. Faithful to the Hello Kitty brand, and an eye-catcher on store shelves, I give the packaging an A-.
APPEARANCE: From the box, it appears that Hello Kitty Pop-Tarts are decorated in her signature pink color and sprinkled with miniature candies in the shape of Hello Kitty, bows, and flowers. The reality is a bit disappointing...
Instead of a festive pink frosting, it's kind of a purple-ish pink that's not very appetizing. Instead of the icing being neatly centered on the pastry, it was smeared off to one side. The generous assortment of candy sprinkles shown on the box were nothing more than a few scattered bits. In short, the product looked nothing like what I was expecting. If it had even remotely resembled what was on the box, I would have been much happier. But, alas, I give the actual product a D- for looks.
TASTE: Pop-Tarts are an acquired taste that not everybody enjoys. I happen to love them. My only criticism is that the pastry dough is dense and gummy when chewed... forming a kind of nasty paste. You have to be careful that you always have plenty of filling with each bite so that the crap pastry doesn't ruin your dining experience. The flavor advertised is "Meow-Berry" which is explained to be a "wild berry filling". Tasting it, I get a good sense of berry flavor, though trying to figure out which berries are in the mix is fairly difficult. I definitely taste strawberry... and probably some kind of raspberry or blackberry... perhaps a hint of blueberry... but nothing definite can be discerned. Overall I give the product a B for taste, considering we're talking about Pop-Tarts here.
OVERALL RATING: This product had such high potential, but really fell short in the appearance department. This is really bad news for a food item, and cuts the final score down to a C+. If Kelloggs could find a way to improve the look of Hello Kitty Pop-Tarts, they'd jump to a B+ or A- easy. Overall, I am giving them a cautious recommendation. If you like Pop-Tarts, these are worth a try. If you don't like Pop-Tarts, the Hello Kitty Meow-Berry variety will not change your mind.
Most of my weekend has been spent working.
Ordinarily this wouldn't bother me, but now that good weather has arrived, I really want to pull my motorcycle out of storage. Problem is, it's going to take at least a day to rip her apart, de-winterize her, charge the battery, and clean her up. Unfortunately, I just don't have that kind of time to spare. So instead I worked, washed clothes, ate Pop-Tarts, drank Coke with Lime, and drew a "Pain Chart" for Belinda over at Ninja Poodles.
You see, during a recent visit to the ER for a migraine, Belinda was presented with this pain chart which has these goofy-looking green balloon-heads and says "If you are in pain, let your doctor or nurse know how bad your pain really is". I remember that they had something similar when I visited the ER with my kidney stones incident, but I was screaming so loud that I don't think they bothered to use it. This was surprising, because all the screaming didn't seem to motivate them into giving me any drugs until after an hour and twenty minutes had passed.
Anyway, here's the chart...
Belinda felt this was totally inadequate, and thought it would be better if I redrew it with Bad Monkey instead of a green balloon head. But since monkeys are screeching all the time and it's hard to know if they are in pain or not, I decided to use Cartoon Dave instead....
After making the pain chart, it got me to wondering what other useful charts there should be...
I was going to do an "Are You a Dumbass" chart, but that would have to be a big-ass chart to truly capture the many shades of dumbass that I run across on a daily basis.
Oh well. Back to work...
Happy Cinco de Mayo everybody!
It's strange sitting here and typing that when I know full well I won't be celebrating the holiday tonight. Years ago when I was young, stupid and looking for any excuse to party, Cinco de Mayo was a pretty big event. Huge even. In fact, after having turned 21, it was probably the biggest holiday of the year for me. There's nothing quite like going to a Mexican restaurant with a bunch of friends and getting completely wasted on Margaritas and tequila shots. I have many fond memories (and even more blurry half-memories) of Cinco de Mayo during "The Stupid Years" (my favorite being a party in Maui after having just received my PADI scuba diving certification).
But, alas, to do something insane like that today would end up with me in the hospital or dead (which would come in handy for Dia de Los Muertos in November).
So what am I doing this year? I'm staying home so I can wash my laundry and work.
It's going to be the best Cinco de Mayo ever.
Whenever I write about some of the freakier Blogography emails I get here, I'm assured of some blogger leaving a comment that says something like this: "at least people pay attention to what you say... I'd kill to get hate mail or ANY mail out of my blog". I then chuckle softly to myself knowing that they would feel quite differently if they actually had to put up with some of the crap I get.
As an example...
In an entry for last year, I had mentioned a "sex switch" (as in GENDER, you perv!) Halloween party from years ago where I dressed up as Wonder Woman. It was big fun and I put a lot of work into getting the costume right. In the comments I had mentioned that I didn't have any pictures of it, but feared that a friend might have taken photos and would post them on the internet some day. Shortly after that, a friend who reads my blog DID manage to track down a drunken pic of Wonder-Dave and emailed it to me. I got a laugh out of it, then filed it away so there will be something interesting to show at my funeral.
But then I get an email from some guy on Friday who said he was trying to build a Wonder Woman costume and wanted to know if I ever found pictures, because he'd like to see how I managed it. I wrote back and said that while I did have a photo, I'm afraid I won't be sending it, because it's personal and I don't want it posted to a pervy website or anything.
The next day I get a reply where he assures me that he won't share the pic, and he really would appreciate it if I could send it to him. I wrote back and politely declined, saying that I wouldn't give it to some of my closest friends, let alone somebody I've never met.
Saturday night I get yet another email. This time the tone is much different. He's hostile now, and wants to know why I won't trust him. Then, as if to encourage me, he attaches some pictures of himself in various costumes... some of which I cannot even begin to describe without inviting search engine hits I really don't want. Suffice to say that this guy likes to dress up as famous women, and looks really good as Cher.
I'm kind of scared now. There is no way I am sending the photo, and yet I really would like to diffuse the situation, so I draw up a cartoon for him and say "sorry, but this is the only photo I'll be sending"...
I didn't hear anything on Sunday, and thought that it was over.
I was wrong.
This morning I get this ranting email about how I am a judgmental prick. How I am a close-minded idiot who can't accept other people. Yadda yadda yadda. After reading it, I came to the conclusion that it takes a pretty big dumbass to think this of me just because I won't share a personal photo, and deleted it. I won't even bother to open anything else that arrives from him.
So yeah, I like getting comments and emails from my readers. Always have. But when things like this happen, I have to question my sanity in having a blog at all. The more things I write about and the larger my archives grow, the more search engines are going to set me up for freaky-ass search results. Then even more crap like this is going to happen.
I guess what I'm trying to say is be careful what you wish for, you might just get it.
On the up-side... doesn't cartoon Dave look FABULOUS dressed up as Wonder Woman?
Ugh. Raining buckets in Seattle on a lazy Sunday. I think I'll stay in the city for another day with my friends...
I am of the opinion that people who suffer from road rage are probably blameless for their condition. There are so many total dumbasses on the road that it's no wonder people are enraged. By the time I finally got across the mountains I was so overwhelmed with anger that I was very close to having a mental breakdown. You know it's bad when your throat is sore from screaming at idiots for three solid hours (knowing full well that they will never hear you).
Here is a puzzle for you...
Given the above situation do you...
A: Realize that you are delaying traffic and pissing people off, so you pull over at the next turnout.
B: Think that you are the center of the universe, don't give a shit about anybody else, and don't bother pulling off at the turnout because it would be an inconvenience.
If you answered A, then congratulations! You not only know how to read, but you also know how to drive legally! This gives you a DaveQ of 1000, so please go get a badge and display it proudly!
If you answered B, then please f#@% off and die. Seriously. It's bad enough that you are going 18 miles an hour under the speed limit, but the fact that you are breaking the law and causing people to have a brain hemorrhage BECAUSE YOU WON'T PULL THE F#@% OFF THE ROAD TO LET US PASS... well, I just want your stupid ass beat to shit until you die.
DIE! DIE! DIE!!!
Ahem. But it was all worth it because once I got to Redmond it was Zombie time...
Everything turned out super-sweet (though the photos look a little freaky because I had to use a flash).
These shirts are pretty nifty because they are so astoundingly useful...
CONDITION: Hung-over on a Monday morning at work due to a weekend of heavy partying? EXCUSE YOU CAN USE: Zombies ate my brain.
CONDITION: Stayed up too late watching a marathon of old Arnold Schwartzenegger movies? EXCUSE YOU CAN USE: Zombies ate my brain.
CONDITION: Sick with the flu but can't afford to miss a day of work? EXCUSE YOU CAN USE: Zombies ate my brain.
CONDITION: Fall asleep while making love to your significant other? EXCUSE YOU CAN USE: Zombies ate my brain.
The beauty of it all is that you don't even have to say a word... just point to the shirt!
And now I'm off to Chicago...
Flying Horizon Airlines with their myriad of "mechanical difficulties" has me thinking quite a lot about my death.
Not so much about how I will be ascending to a higher plane of existence from which I shall continue to bless my loyal readers... but more about where my earthly remains shall be interned. Something befitting a man of my stature and brilliance. Something with eternal flames... and a gift shop.
After thinking about it during the bumpy ride into Seattle, I finally came up with a rough concept...
I think perhaps a statue monument made out of Italian marble that's around fifty stories tall should do the trick. And it would be hollowed out just like the Statue of Liberty so visitors could climb into my head and observe the surrounding 200,000 acres of pristine wild-lands which surround my eternal resting place (formerly known as Mt. Rainier National Park).
I'll be setting up a tip jar here so that everybody can do their part to immortalize me in this nifty monument. I am pretty sure that something like this will cost at least a couple of billion dollars, so dig deep... DIG WAAAAAYYY DOWN DEEP... into those pockets for your tax-deductable* contribution.
* At least any donation should be tax-deductable. Write your legislators today!
What an incredibly crappy day.
Instead of spending my weekend relaxing, goofing off, and playing Xbox... I instead spent all of it working. Ordinarily this wouldn't bother me so much, but all this non-stop work is driving me insane. Literally.
Lately I've taken to talking to myself. And I'm not talking about simply reciting things in my head, but having actual conversations with myself. Like last night...
Dave: Oh crap, I have no idea what I want for dinner tonight.
Dave: A fried egg sandwich sounds good.
Dave: Hey, that does sound tasty! A fried egg sandwich it is then!
Or this morning...
Dave: I miss Chicago. I could so totally live there. Hey! I should move to Chicago!!
Dave: You don't want to move to Chicago.
Dave: Yeah, I guess you're right.
And just now...
Dave: Now that the season is over, television sucks ass!
Dave: Hey, isn't there new Entourage on tonight?
Dave: Oooh... I almost forgot about that! Thanks for reminding me!
And so on.
My self-psychoanalysis has diagnosed a mild form of schizophrenia, so I've written myself a prescription for a tablespoon of Pepto Bismol and a cold beer. I am convinced that everything can be cured by Peptol Bismol... but I hate the taste of it (hence the beer chaser). If one day they announce that Pepto Bismol cures cancer I won't be the least bit surprised, because the stuff is a miracle in a bottle. I lived on the stuff in college...
Too bad it makes your poop turn black.
And now I'm off to box up a bunch of T-shirt before bedtime...
The day started out with me putting both contact lenses in the same eye and only went downhill from there.
I'd go into details, but do you really want to hear it? Suffice to say that today sucked, and just when I thought it couldn't suck any more... IT DID! I don't even want to think about it.
The big news of the day, of course, is Bill Gates stepping down from the day-to-day operations at Microsoft in 2008. Helpful hint to Redmond... HIRE A VISIONARY FROM OUTSIDE THE COMPANY WHO CAN COME IN AND REVIVE YOUR TIRED OLD SHIT!! You need a Steve Jobs at the helm... not monkey-boy Balmer who will just keep you mired in the same old crap. Hire somebody like ME who will put your billions of dollars to good use and get you to innovate your way into something new! No more dumping money into duplicating stuff that's already better than what you can do anyway...
Oh yeah. I could definitely put billions of dollars to good use...
THE FLYING DELOREAN: POWERED BY MR. FUSION, BUILT BY DAVE WITH MICROSOFT MONEY, BABY!!
Seriously, who would give a crap about another stupid version of Windows or buggy MS Office update when you can make a flying car?!? Why dump money into another dumbass music service when you could spend it on developing a flying car?!? MSN? MS Publisher? Hotmail? Terraserver? WHATEVER... who really cares about that junk? EVERYBODY LOVES FLYING CARS!!
At the very least, I could have Microsoft discontinue their Windows products and license MacOS X so they could stop embarrassing themselves... they could call it "Macintosh Vista X" and finally sell an operating system that doesn't suck.
My salary requirements for running Microsoft to record profits? ONE MILLION DOLLARS A MONTH!!!
A bargain at twice the price!
Bill, I'll be expecting your call...
Tonight after work I followed a building contractor's truck which had "Let Us Help You Build Your Dream" stenciled on the back. The guy was going 25 miles per hour in a 35 mile per hour zone. Well MY dream is for people to drive the frickin' speed limit... can you help me with THAT?? Dumbass.
It was the cherry on the ass of my day.
And now, since that seems like it would be a fun thing to draw, I present a visual interpretation of the above sentiment...
Next up: apparently I pulled a boner today.
Do not expect a visual interpretation of that, however, as an explanation is in order...
Out of all 64 T-shirt shipments I sent on Monday, I somehow processed five of them as "label only" - meaning that they did not have postage on them. As I was attempting to exit the post office with an armload of rejected packages, an old man comes running up to hold the door...
Old Man: Hey partner, looks like Christmas came early for you! HA HA HAAAH!
Dave: Ah. No, I'm needing to ship these out.
Old Man: Then aren't you going the wrong way with those packages? HA HA HAAAH!
Dave: Oh. Yeah. I forgot to put postage on them, so I have to go fix that.
Old Man: Pulled a boner did ya? HA HA HAAAH!
Dave: Uhhh... what?!?
Old Man: Good luck partner! HA HA HAAAH!
Dave: Uhhh... what?!?
I walked away from that conversation very confused, but fortunately Wikipedia was able to clear things up:
"A small mistake having an amusing effect?" Well, I certainly hope that's what the old guy meant.
Because anything else would be very disturbing indeed.
And I don't want any more cherries on my ass.
"They can be a great people, Kal-El. They wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way."
I don't know why that famous line from Marlon Brando in Superman The Movie was echoing through my mind when I woke up this morning. Probably because I have not yet seen Superman Returns, though I want to quite badly. Perhaps that will be on the agenda in New York or Chicago, since they have far better theaters than I have here. Local cinemas are pretty much crap... with poor screens, uncomfortable seats, and sound systems so bad you can barely hear dialogue. Good movies always mean a three-hour drive to Seattle, but so few films are worth it now-a-days.
I am spending my Independence Day holiday working — but, to everybody else, have a safe and happy Fourth of July!
Wisconsin, for lack of a better word, is delicious.
Every time I come here, I always end up eating way too much. Unfortunately, what I eat are foods that are very, very bad for you. Things like a caramel-cashew frozen custard sundae from Culvers (which isn't bad until I tell you that I eat two of these EVERY DAY). Or cheese. Lots and lots of cheese. My latest addiction is fried cheese, which is taking something horribly delicious, doing bad things to it, and then ending up with something atrociously horribly delicious. I just can't help myself... fried fatty foods are my kryptonite.
Another problem here is that they love butter almost as much as I do.
Last night I was at the grocery store looking for snack foods to eat while I was working. I eventually ended up in the chip aisle, and picked up a bag of something called "O-Ke-Doke" because it had cool aliens on it...
It looked kind of like imitation Pirate Booty, so I was going to put it back until I heard a voice behind me...
NICE LADY: That had better not be the last bag, I was going to get some of that myself!
DAVE: Uhhh... no, there's plenty. I was just looking at it anyway.
NICE LADY: What? How can you not buy it? That stuff is addictive! Haven't you ever had it before?
DAVE: No. They don't have "O-Ke-Doke" in Washington State where I'm from.
NICE LADY: Oh you have GOT to try it then! It tastes like butter, and my kids just love it!
DAVE: Butter you say?!?
So I bought a bag along with all kinds of other snacky crap. All the way back to the hotel, I was getting more and more excited about the prospect of eating crunchy fried butter. What a brilliant idea! So I get back to my room, pull out my laptop, and rip open a bag... only to find out that it's not that great. Sure it tastes like butter (and that's a good thing)... but it's way too salty.
Except I cannot stop eating the stuff.
I ate half the bag last night for dinner, and polished off the remainder this morning for breakfast. It's like butter cocaine or something...
Damn those dirty space-alien-fried-butter-cocaine-snack-pushers!!
Who needs spaceships and lasers to take over the earth? They've got O-Ke-Doke! And with 1190 calories, 1470 milligrams of sodium, and 77 fat grams per bag, humanity's destruction is assured.
And now I have to go to the store so I can buy another bag for lunch.
Addiction sucks ass.
Last night I had to go to the store so I could buy some more food and snacks. As I was walking in, a woman and her three horrifying children came in behind me... each of them yelling about something. Finally one of the kids wanted to go look at magazines, so the entire brood went running off screaming.
What happens next is not pretty, but it does have me curious...
Okay. Let's say you have three kids. Let's further say that these three kids are going ape-shit in the magazine section. They're throwing magazines at each other. They're spilling magazines on the floor and sliding around on them. They're flinging those little subscription cards everywhere. It's total chaos in the red zone...
So where are you in this scenario?
A) You are over in the cereal aisle screaming at your kids from across the store to behave or else they will be in trouble. But you don't really mean it... it's just an empty threat. Your kids know this, so they completely ignore you. And hey, it's not your magazines being ripped to shreds, so you just don't care.
B) You are all the way across the store in the produce section. You hear your kids raising hell somewhere, but this is your "alone time" so you pretend you don't hear a thing. Why not let the store staff babysit your kids... that's what they're paid for isn't it?
C) You are at the check-out counter flirting like a whore with the guy at the register. To better your chances at scoring, you pretend that the kids going crazy over there aren't yours. Maybe if you ignore them long enough, they'll just go away.
D) You are out in the parking lot smoking a cigarette. Your kids are completely forgotten for the moment... out of sight, out of mind and all that. You contemplate ditching them at the store for a few hours so you can go get a manicure.
Have your answer yet?
Well, if you were any kind of parent at all, you would answer "E) I'm over in the magazine section beating the shit out of my kids and teaching them how to behave in public."
But if you are the bitch that followed me into the store... THE ANSWER IS ALL FOUR, A THROUGH D!!
Yes, you read that right. This bitch let her kids go insane while she was shopping, smoking, and whoring it up. She made a half-hearted effort to scream at them once from the cereal aisle, but then ignored them entirely. When I left, she really was in the parking lot loading up her groceries and having a smoke. I have no idea if she ever went back in and got her kids or what.
And I'm not being sexist here... this could have just as easily been a guy. Bad parenting knows no gender boundaries.
It's times like this I really do wish I had copies of my "Dumbasses Books" to hand out to people...
Instead, my only option is to run up and slap the bitch. But I opted not to, because I have no desire to see what the jail cells look like in rural Wisconsin.
Why, why, why, WHY isn't there an intelligence test required before people are allowed to have kids? From what I have seen, it would cause quite a dip in the population (because most people are really, really stupid and should never have kids) but I would be okay with that.
Dumbasses shouldn't be breeding anyway.
The taxi driver smelled so bad that my eyes were watering. And it wasn't like he was oblivious to the fact, because he'd occasionally whip out some deodorant spray in a futile attempt to mask the stench. Of course this did nothing but make things worse. The guy smelled like he crapped his pants, took a bath in a urinal, and then slept in a sweaty, stanky locker-room for a week. The 100-degree heat wasn't helping much either.
By the time I got to Lincoln Square, I was inundated with a melange of horrible smells and about ready to pass out...
But I did my best to stay conscious, because I was meeting Jenny for dinner and a movie and thought she might appreciate not finding me passed out on the sidewalk.
Or maybe she would. I'm probably a much better conversationalist that way.
Anyway, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest was a convoluted story filled with never-ending coincidences and lots of mind-blowing special effects. While not as good as the first film, it was still an entertaining ride (mostly due to Johnny Depp, who once again delivers out a masterful performance). The surprise was that they brought back Jack Davenport (of Coupling fame) to play Commodore Norrington. He completely eclipses Orlando Bloom at every turn, and is by far the more sympathetic character. That's actually kind of bad for the plot, but a happy accident for the movie, because it ends up adding some depth to the story.
The evening ended at a German bar full of elderly people partying down to a live band. Some of those seniors had brilliant moves ON the dance floor, which was surprising considering they could barely walk OFF the dance floor. Jenny and I were regretting that we didn't have a video camera, because this is the kind of stuff that thrives on YouTube.
Unable to find a taxi back into the city, I decided to hop on the train. Right behind me was a man trying to manage his sloppy-drunk girlfriend from falling over as she started gyrating wildly to music that wasn't there. It was amusing at first, but quickly became embarrassing. She was cursing profusely and jabbering on endlessly about stuff nobody really wanted to hear. Even worse was that she was scowling (for emphasis, I'd imagine) as she spoke, which reminded me of somebody...
I also suspect that she had head-lice, because she was forever shaking her hair like a woman possessed. I kept waiting for her head to snap off or maybe spin all the way around like Linda Blair in The Exorcist.
I wish I could say that this was the end of my travel entertainment, but my taxi ride to O'Hare this morning wouldn't allow it. The driver, who was talking to himself the entire way, decided to LIGHT UP A CIGARETTE as we pulled on to the airport expressway. Why he couldn't have waited ten minutes to drop me off first was a complete mystery. So instead I got to sit in cigarette smoke which pissed me off pretty bad. I hope he spends the $2 I tipped him wisely, because the idiot shouldn't have gotten anything at all. Dumbass.
What happened in the month that I was away? Did Chicago pass some kind of city ordinance whereas taxi drivers are required to make their cabs smell as bad as possible?
Oh well. I'm home safely in my sweet-smelling apartment, so I guess that's all that really counts... isn't it?
After yet another orgasm-inducing meal at David's Pizza, I decided to drop by The Comic Book Shop to see if lesbian Batwoman was out (heh, heh) yet. Not only was she out, but she was REALLY out, because they had three stacks of the issue piled on the shelf. Apparently lesbian super-heroes translate into big comic book sales. This has me wondering if we're going to start seeing lesbians in all the comics now. Or perhaps more lesbians on this blog! In any event, the story was kind of boring and barely hinted at any hot lesbionic action. Fanboys are going to be upset.
But not by the size of her chest...
I have no idea how she can be expected to fight crime around a rack like that, but I guess every hero has their problems. Batwoman just happens to have two of them.
This is my last day on the road for awhile. Tomorrow I'll be home and finally be able to catch up on everything that's been piling up for the past two months. I live in fear of my post box. There's bound to be quite a stack of mail heaped in there by now. Much like my email InBox...
I mean, dang, that's a LOT of email to read. My spam filter works pretty well, so most of those are going to be legit. I guess I know what I'm going to be doing this weekend.
WATCHING CLERKS II, THAT'S WHAT! Hah!
And adding more lesbians to Blogography.
Uhhh... and answering email (if I can find the time).
Driving over to Seattle is a two-and-one-half-hour endeavor that I have done so many times that I barely notice it anymore. One minute I'm leaving my driveway, and the next I am pulling into the city... everything that happens in-beween is nothing more than a blur. About the only thing I usually remember are the dumbass drivers that piss me off, but today I didn't even remember much of that. For some reason this time was like the trip wasn't even real. Like a video game perhaps.
And that got me thinking about how cool my life would be if it were a video game all the time.
It would probably start off with Elizabeth Hurley appearing before me in a cloud and giving me some kind of quest to complete...
Then, like most adventure games, I'd be dumped in the middle of a forest with only my monkey companion to keep me company...
But eventually I'd slay a bunch of monsters and find treasure so I could upgrade to a Pirate Warrior...
And then I could battle big-ass boss monsters like Jared the Subway Sandwich Whore...
Then I'd become King of the World and marry Princess Elizabeth...
Yeah, my life as a video game would kick ass!
Wow. I got so caught up in work today that I totally forgot about my blog! That almost never happens.
Oh well. I guess it's a little late to do anything about it now.
I only hope that I can get to sleep after Adena got this song stuck in my head all day.
Sometime back in 1979-1980 I ran across a comic strip called "Garfield" about a total bastard of a cat who tormented his dorky owner Jon. I really liked it because it was a little more sarcastic than "Peanuts" and the rest of the funny paper offerings. Since I didn't get the strip in my local paper, my grandmother was nice enough to clip them out and send them to me. Every couple of weeks I'd look forward to getting a fat envelope filled with Garfield strips to read, which was pretty sweet!
But, after a couple years, I couldn't help but notice that the strip was getting repetitive and boring. Rather than come up with something new and interesting to talk about, the team of writers and illustrators that Jim Davis hired to do the strip just maintained the status quo (about the only decent thing to happen since then was the Garfield cartoon show, which was far more interesting than the strip). Eventually I lost interest and moved on to more "cutting edge" humor like my beloved "Calvin & Hobbes" and "The Far Side."
Well, today I ran across something rather cool... the people behind Garfield actually realize that the strip sucks, and have provided a tool to let you create your own!
I need to make a tool like that for my DaveToons. It would be a heck of a lot faster than having to draw them.
I am a huge fan of animation and have done my fair share of goofing around using both traditional hand-drawn and 3-D computer techniques. The problem is that animation is hard to do well, so I usually get frustrated and give up. Still, it's proven to be valuable experience, because it has made me better at story-boarding and character design (which is work I really enjoy).
Recently I've fallen in love with the idea of making my own animations again, and have decided to see what I can do with the hefty DaveToon library I've accumulated from my blog over the past couple of years. At first I was going to do everything in 3-D, but that quickly fell through because the 2-D nature of my simple drawings didn't look very good when translated. So now I've been messing around with 2-D cell animation and find that it isn't much easier. The characters were never intended to be animated when I first created them, so everything looks a little strange when I attempt it.
But, after a drawing up a few dozen pages of movement animatics and character structure, I'm getting much closer to being able to make DaveToons come to life. Here's a page showing the frames of a simple head-turn...
And here's an attempt at restructuring Bad Monkey for movement...
At this point I still don't know if it's going to work. Hopefully I'll get it figured out after another two dozen pages.
Fortunately, Steve Job's keynote speech at Apple's World Wide Developer's Conference didn't result in me going bankrupt. No widescreen Video iPod. No super-cool iPhone. No iPod Car Stereo. Just the release of the impressive new Mac Pro machines and a peek at the X-Serve server specs. This really makes sense, because consumer devices like iPods and iPhones don't really belong at a software developer's conference anyway.
The highlight of the keynote was, of course, a sneak peak at the next version of the MacOS X operating system, code-named Leopard. Steve was very clear that they would only be showing a few of the features that they have planned, because they need to have a few surprises left in store for the product launch.
If THIS is the cool stuff that they are willing to show us, then heaven only knows what else they're going to pack into the OS when it ships next Spring! Once again Apple totally blows by Microsoft Windows, which is still trying to copy the previous version of the MacOS with their ever-delayed "Windows Vista" OS (which, in my mind, is rip-off because it's mostly a bunch of security fixes that SHOULD have been put in Windows XP). Why anybody would still want to cling to that lamer imitation is a complete mystery to me. Every single time I am forced to use my Windows PC, it's like stepping back in time... even when I am using the "Windows Vista" beta. Apple revolutionizes their OS nearly every year, whereas Windows just continues to lag behind and stagnate. "Vista" ain't going to change that, because paying for a bunch of security fixes and an outdated GUI simply isn't worth it. I can't help but wonder how many people will switch to the Mac after seeing what a total disappointment "Vista" is turning out to be when compared to how rippin' cool Leopard is.
All I can say is that I am amazed at the new "Time Machine" and "Core Animation" tech built-in to the new MacOS, and am thrilled that virtual desktops will finally be built-in as well. Everything else is just beautiful gravy, and I can't wait to see what else we're going to get with MacOS X v10.5!
I'm minty fresh!
One of my most favorite internet phenomena would have to be Where The Hell Is Matt... a guy who got famous for traveling around the world, dancing in exotic locations, and filming it so he could turn his trips into an amazing video. It ended up being such a big hit that the people at Stride Gum decided to sponsor a second world tour so Matt could dance in all new places. This resulted in yet another sweet video, and gave me a scorching desire to support Stride Gum because they were so cool to do this.
So I bought a pack of Peppermint Stride. It's pretty tasty gum and, just like it advertises, the flavor lasts a really long time.
But it reeks.
This tiny pack of gum has a massive stench that infects everything which comes in contact with it.
Yesterday I put it in my backpack which has now been permanently infused with essence of peppermint. It smells like a tube of toothpaste exploded inside. I thought it might be the confined space, so I tossed the gum on my night-stand. Turns out that the minty odor is so strong that it woke me up in the middle of the night! Now my nostrils are burning and my entire apartment smells like somebody farted a pack of breath-mints while drinking mojitos and then tried to cover it up by smashing candy canes into the carpet. It's like a frickin' mint julep jungle in here...
I've since got the gum DOUBLE-SEALED in a plastic baggie. From now on, whenever I want to chew a piece, I'll go outside to open it so as not to completely kill my sense of smell...
I now worry that I won't get my cleaning deposit back because it will take a team of those meth-lab detox workers to disinfect my apartment. They're going to have to rip up the carpet, strip the paint off the walls, and replace all the curtains. They may even have to tear out the doors, because I'm pretty sure the mint smell has soaked into the wood.
All things considered, I've come to the conclusion that Stride's flavor doesn't actually last longer than regular gum... the persistent smell just makes you think it does. I read somewhere that 90% of taste is actually attributed to smell, so the big secret mystery of this miracle gum has been solved! I could chew a pencil eraser right now and it would taste like a fresh piece of Stride.
I'm going to go shove a couple of coffee beans up my nose to mask the mint odor so I can get back to sleep.
Now you know I'm desperate, because I don't even like coffee.
Long-time Blogography readers will know of my good friend Bad Robert. He was one of the earliest supporters of my blog, one of my very first commenters, and has been providing fodder for my entries for years. If you don't know Bad Robert, then you should read my infamous "Blue Balls Button" entry to get a feel for what I have to deal with (metaphorically speaking).
For the past few weeks, Robert has been calling me up at random times during the day and night... screaming "SNAKES ON A MUTHERF#@%ING PLANE!"... then hanging up. To say he is psyched to see this movie is an understatement of gargantuan proportions. I can only guess that this kind of insane behavior will escalate until the film actually drops in two days.
This morning as I am getting ready for work, my mobile phone rings and I see it's Robert calling. I prepare myself for being screamed at, but the actual conversation was quite different...
Robert: Did you know that you came up with the idea for Snakes on a Mutherf#@%ing Plane??
Dave: Errr... no? What are you talking about?
Robert: I was Google searching and your blog came up. I clicked on it, and there it was... YOU came up with the idea for Snakes on a Mutherf#@%ing Plane back in 2004!
Dave: Wow. I'm going to have to hunt down Samuel L. Jackson and get my mutherf#@%ing check!
Robert: No doubt. And don't forget who told you about it when you get mutherf#@%ing paid.
I had no idea what he was talking about until I looked through my archives.
And there it was...
Bad Robert was right. I DID come up with the idea on mutherf#@%ing July 19th, 2004. Don't believe me? Then go and read it for yourself!
Somebody is getting mutherf#@%ing sued.
UPDATE: Turns out Robert wasn't the first to bring this to my attention... I totally overlooked the comment from Cat that was left earlier this week! Great. Now she's going to want to get mutherf#@%ing paid too!
Today was "International Crap on Dave Day" and nobody bothered to tell me in advance.
Instead, everybody just started piling the crap on me until my lovely day was all covered in poo.
Ordinarily, this wouldn't bother me. It seems that "International Crap on Dave Day" comes along at least once a month, so I'm used to it. But today's figurative crap was supplemented with actual crap, which is why I was not okay with it. And I still have no idea what I did or ate that gave me such a bowel-draining case of diarrhea in the first place. All I do know is that it took two hours and a half a box of Imodium before I was able to leave the toilet for more than two minutes at a time. Sure it wasn't the best way to spend my morning, but the up-side is that I beat my high score on Mario Cart DS.
The smoke filled skies that plagued my trip back home yesterday seem to have followed me. This morning things were looking a bit hazy and, by the time I left work tonight, things had gotten much worse. I suspect that when I wake up tomorrow, I'll look out my window and see flames.
Though as long as it's a poo-free day, I'm strangely okay with that...
There are movies that entertain, and then there are movies which actually have something to say.
Little Miss Sunshine actually has something to say.
On the surface, it's just a funny movie about a family with major issues that's fun to watch. But when you dig a little deeper, it's a brilliant commentary on just how messed up life is and all the crazy crap we have to put up with in order to make our way through it. By the time they finally reach the Little Miss Sunshine Pageant, the absurdity of it all is in vivid relief.
Hands-down the best movie I've seen this year...
Basking in sunshine has never felt so good.
I fully admit to being a smart-ass bastard.
It's almost impossible for me to be anything but a smart-ass bastard considering how totally brilliant I am. In fact, I'm so smart that I can't even pretend to be a dumbass. I'm just not that good of an actor. Coming to terms with the fact that even my ass is smarter than 95% of the general population has saved me from a lot of heartache and grief. If I didn't have such realization about my talents, I would probably break down and cry every time some idiot decides to berate me for my pointing out their intellectual inadequacies.
I was at the mini-mart picking up my Coke with Lime this morning (on sale: Two for Two Dollars!) when some stupid bitch pulls up next to me... IN THE HANDICAP PARKING SPACE!! She doesn't have a handicap parking permit, and obviously doesn't have a physical handicap...
DAVE: It must be mental.
STUPID BITCH: Sorry?
DAVE: Your handicap... it must be mental.
STUPID BITCH: I'm just buying a pack of cigarettes and'll only be a minute so why don't you mind your f#@%ing business! Are you the f#@%ing retard parking police? Who the f#@% are you?
DAVE: Oh good, so you you do realize you're parking in the wrong spot then.
Yeah. And knowing that she has the mental capabilities of a piece of navel lint, here is my reaction to her rantings...
Seriously, how else could I possibly react? Like I give a crap about anything this white trash dipshit has to say?
I know people who have to use handicap parking since it's very difficult for them to walk even short distances. When some lazy whore takes the only handicap parking spot because she doesn't feel like walking an extra twenty yards, that means she could be causing physical harm to somebody who needs it more than her lamer ass.
I think it's only right that she be made aware that she's an ill-manered bitch.
Being a smart-ass is such a thankless job.
You know how when you get smacked in the balls there's that fleeting state of euphoria where you think "oh jolly good... it's not going to hurt after all" — until a second later when the overwhelming pain surges through your body so badly that you throw yourself on the ground and beg for death to take you? Not that I'm in the habit of getting smacked in the balls on a regular basis, but the few times it did happen left a real impression.
Anyway, this is the exact same feeling I get when I use Microsoft Windows.
At first I get that slight tinge of euphoria and think "it's not going to hurt after all" until a second later when I realize that a drive letter has been mysteriously re-assigned by the OS, and all my links are broken. Then I'm down on the ground begging for death to take me as I scream "Argh! My balls! My precious balls!"...
Ah yes... kicked in the nuts by Windows... AGAIN. This happens so often that my testicles start aching every time I hear that annoying Windows startup sound (much the way I have an orgasm when I hear the Mac startup sound).
When Vista is released, I'm investing in an athletic cup.
"I Can Forgive Her, But I Don't Have to Because She Screwed with My Chickens."
Woo hoo! Let the Fall television season begin!
How is it that people can live as if they will never grow old?
I'm walking over to the bakery and end up crossing the street opposite an elderly lady who is having a bit of a tough time walking. But, to her credit, she's slowly making her way across the street with a smile on her face. I cannot help but admire her fortitude in bypassing a scooter cart in favor of walking when it's obviously difficult for her (though, given the criminal state of healthcare for the elderly, maybe she can't afford a scooter and has no choice but to walk).
Sadly, not everybody feels the same way.
There at the crosswalk inside a giant redneck pick-up truck is some ass-wipe revving his engine at her.
If it weren't so sad, it might be funny. I mean, she can barely walk... the only way she could possibly move any faster would be if the dumbass were to hop out of his truck and carry her across. But there he is, revving that engine up as if the old lady will suddenly start running to get out of his way.
Out of respect for the woman, I didn't scream obscenities at the f#@%er, toss a garbage can through his front windshield, then slash his tires... but I sure wanted to. A pity I didn't have a knife on me or I definitely would have thought twice about ruining his shit.
And because of all this, I've decided to embrace my Scottish Heritage and start wearing a kilt...
As a descendant from Clan Munro of the Scottish Highlands, I've got my own tartan pattern and even a bad-ass Clan Badge...
Look at that golden eagle... doesn't he look like he's about to kick some ass? And what about that motto... "Dread God"... that's pretty serious (meaning "Fear God"). Clan Munro has some hefty balls to be flashing that around!
But, back to the point, the reason I want to start wearing a kilt is that part of the ceremonial kilt dressing is what's called a "Sgian Dubh" which is Gaelic for "Black Knife." It's a totally sweet pointy dagger with a bitchin' black handle that you tuck in your sock. If I were to start packing that around, I'd always have something handy for slashing the tires of inconsiderate rednecks who rev their engines at old ladies.
As a side-benefit, you also get to have a "Sporran" hanging from your belt to put stuff in. Yeah, it's pretty much just a man-purse... but I figure if you're already wearing a skirt, what have you got to lose? It looks big enough to hold my Nintendo DS and a pack of smokes* along with my wallet!
* Okay, I don't smoke, but anybody who goes around slashing tires of rude bastards should probably at least act like they do. Being a bad-ass tire-slasher looks so much cooler when you have a cigarette hanging from your mouth.
Yes, my header graphics have been redesigned. I was quite happy with the old "look" but, for reasons I am not going to elaborate on just yet, it was time for a change. The random DaveToon in the corner is meant to give visitors something different to look at on each visit. But now I'm finding that there a lot of people who just continuously refresh the page until they see them all, so I figured I might as well save them the trouble and post all twenty of them here. Spoilsport.
Speaking of DaveToons, I got a terrific email from a guy who got in trouble at school for printing out the one where Bad Monkey is smoking cigarettes and pasting it on his notebook...
How cool is that? I'm corrupting American's youth!
Well, if it's any consolation, Bad Monkey is chewing ten sticks of Nicorette gum and burning through a dozen nicotine patches every day in an effort to quit...
See kids, it's best to just not start in the first place.
Avast ye mateys... 'tis "Talk Like a Pirate Day" today! It be a proud day indeed for we pirate-lubber folk. Me an me monkey be drinkin' grog and pillaging the worthless bilge rats of this shanty town. 'Tis only a wee matter of time afore we be claiming our treasure and sailing the high seas...
Whilst we be out seeking me fortunes, I be givin' ya a new port of call. One of me favorite bloggers, Peggy Archer be havin' a beauty of a new site for ye all to plunder! It be called "Abandoned Couches" and she be usin' a fine treasure of a couch from Blogography's home port here! So shiver ye timbers and be payin' a visit smartly to this fine pearl of a site before me be dropin' anchor in yer scurvy lagoon, ye sea dogs! AAAAARRRRR!
Aye! Me barnacles need a scrapin' so I be off!
Some total f#@%ing douchebag threw five kittens out the window of a moving car in Kirkland. One died at the scene, two were rescued, and two others are missing (and probably hurt, scared, or both). I am of the opinion that anybody this f#@%ed up should be shot in the head because, let's face it, if you torture innocent animals for kicks then you have no business living. Those who have no respect for life... any life... doesn't deserve it for themselves. If there is any justice in this world, this total loss of a human being will be tracked down and tossed out the window of a moving car into the path of an oncoming truck.
Anyway, before I go tearing off to Seattle, I thought I would post my entry for the day because I don't know if I will have internet access. And since I've gotten quite a few queries as to how I go about drawing my "DaveToons" I thought I might as well write about the creative process that goes into each drawing for anybody who's interested.
STEP ONE: ROUGH SKETCH...
Once my entry has been completed, I determine if I need a toon to make my point, and decided how to best capture the imagery of the story I am trying to tell. I then rough out some sketches so that I can best make a selection. Usually this is a single toon, but sometimes more. For this example, I've selected the DaveToon which appeared here on August 3rd...
STEP TWO: RESEARCH...
With my initial rough sketch drawn out, I then scour the internet looking for photographic references so that my illustrations will be as accurate as possible. Since the toon I'm working on in this example shows an idiot getting a pole shoved up his ass, I'll spend considerable time hunting for photographs of street signs and asses so I can have a starting point from which to start drawing. Research is a critical step, and can take several hours if not days...
STEP THREE: COMPUTER RENDERING...
At this point, I often consult with a special effects house like LucasFilm's Industrial Light and Magic or an animation studio like Pixar for some computer-aided design work. This allows me to examine the scene from all angles and select the best vantage point to depict the action. This step usually costs tens of thousands of dollars, but the expense is well-worth the price because of the valuable insight I get out of the process. How deep does the pole go into the ass? At what angle does Lil' Dave have the best leverage? All of these factors are easy to calculate with a good computer model to work from...
STEP FOUR: ILLUSTRATION...
Using my notes, sketches, photo research, and computer renderings, I then begin the actual drawing process using Adobe Illustrator. Every detail is painstakingly recreated using simple shapes (squares, circles, etc.) that are combined, stretched, warped, and sculpted. I then use the pen tool to redraw those areas where simple shapes don't properly construct what I am trying to draw. As an example, the ovals I used to illustrate the ass did not look as good as the photo reference I researched, so I have to redraw each cheek by hand...
STEP FIVE: COLORING...
All that's left to do is pick colors for each part of the drawing and add any needed text. This is usually done as I go rather than waiting until the very end. That way I can be sure that colors which end up next to each other are distinct and work well together. Sometimes I'll use gradient shading to get a more 3-D look, but usually I don't have the time and have to resort to flat shading like I did this time...
And there you have it! The actual drawing part takes about 5 to 10 minutes per toon depending on how much material I was able to re-use from older drawings. But once you factor in the research, computer design consultation, and brainstorming, the average DaveToon takes about three weeks to complete.
And why do I take such time, care, and expense to be sure each DaveToon is the best it can be? Because my readers demand it, that's why... the bastards!
Errr... except YOU. I'd never say that about YOU, because I just love YOU!
I don't know if it's because I've been in pain and have had an overwhelming work load or what... but lately I've been wanting to destroy quite a lot of people. It seems that just about everybody I meet is in desperate need of dying and I have no idea what to do about it.
Except kill them, of course.
But, in addition to laws that frown upon such activities, I also try to live my life according to Buddhist principles which are opposed to killing for any reason. Even if the person is incredibly stupid and deserves it. Stewie on The Family Guy always makes death and destruction look like so much fun, so perhaps I should give up my beliefs and get into politics?
Something has to be done.
Because this morning I woke up very early, worked for a while, then decided to take a nap before going into the office. It was a great plan which, unfortunately, was foiled by the dumbass geriatric husband & wife neighbors who like to scream at each other. Usually I can ignore them, but this time they woke me up up and I was furious. I tore open the window and screamed "SHUT THE F#@% UP!" in their direction, hoping that they would at least have the decency to go inside and tear into each other like normal people.
Little did I know that some of my elderly neighbors were observing the mayhem directly under my window.
All of a sudden I was the new topic of conversation, which hasn't happen since my car alarm went off eight months ago. This opens a new can of worms that I really don't want, so I decide to give up on sleeping and hop in the shower before one of them decides to come knocking.
When I leave, the old couple has found something new to yell about, and one of the neighbors is waiting. "Was that you with all the screaming this morning?" she asks. "No ma'am" I reply, "I think you have me confused with our neighbors." This is not the answer she wanted because, of course, she knows it was me but, short of calling me a liar, all she can say is "Well, some people around here need to be watching their mouth!"
Yeah, she needed to die quite badly too.
I read a lot of blogs... according to my feed reader, there's 326 of them. You'd think in all those blogs I'd run into other people who have to deal with the freaky crap I seem to get on a regular basis. You'd be wrong.
Take this morning for instance. The first thing I do each day is grab my laptop and check my email. Much to my surprise, there were around thirty messages from people with subject lines like "TMX Elmo HELP PLS!!" and "want to buy TMX" and "NEED 2 ELMO NOW!"—a further check of my spam filter turned up another dozen or so. "WTF?" I said to myself.
Silly me, I had no idea that there is a ten-year anniversary release of that annoying "Tickle Me Elmo" doll from a decade ago. Apparently, just like the first time, these things are in short supply, and people are going ape-shit trying to find one to buy...
After reading through a few messages, I figured out that somebody had accidentally used an email address from one of my unused domains to try and sell a batch of Elmos. Not knowing what else to do, I wrote a script to automatically reply to any mail I got saying that the guy made a mistake with the address and I don't have any Elmos. Then the message is deleted and I'm not bothered.
Fast forward to this afternoon and I get an email from the guy who placed the ad. He tracked me down by doing a WHOIS domain search, apologizes for the mistake, then asks me to please forward any emails I had received. I write back and explain that the emails are automatically deleted, and I'm sorry I can't do anything to help.
So what does the guy do? He places another ad blaming me for deleting emails that were his "personal property," tells everybody they have to send another email, and then posts my actual email address so people can send complaints!
AND THEY DO!!
Not many people, but enough to piss me off.
How is any of this my fault? At least I was nice enough to tell people about the mistake. I could have just deleted the emails and said nothing! It takes all my will-power not to write back to these morons and tell them to kiss my ass. If I DID have a stupid Elmo TMX doll, I'd put a video of me tearing into it with a chain-saw on YouTube and send them the URL...
Bitter much? Yes. Yes I am. Any time some dumbass decides to post my email address and then invite people to send me complaints, I get a little upset. I'd return the favor, but he did remove it after I asked him to, so I'd rather just let it go.
I should come up with a "Tickle Me Lil' Dave" that pisses on you when you try to tickle him. I'd sell millions.
It's apple harvest season in the valley, which means that it must be time for the annual gnat plague which descends on us like the wrath of Lindsay Lohan's crotch.
The tiny bastards only live for a few days, but they make the most of what little time they have by being as annoying as possible. Just walking out to your car results in your being covered with bugs that can't be brushed off without smooshing their little carcasses into your clothing. Don't even get me started about the perils of breathing... having a gnat fly in your mouth or up your nose causes a major freak-out that'll ruin your day in a hurry.
I spend most of my time screaming like a little bitch and waving my arms around whenever I go outside...
Gnats suck ass!
Much like the television show Lost, but without the benefit of a short life span. Quite the opposite really... the shit just drags on and on and on. After giving up on the show, my friends kept insisting that things were different this third season and it's totally great now.
I believed them and watched the current episode.
My friends are lying bastards.
RULE TO GOOD TELEVISION #1: When you come up with a plot twist, the final result had damn well be better than the red herring you discarded. Back when I was watching, there were polar bears on the tropical island. It was strongly alluded to that the strangely misplaced bears were created by the mental powers of creepy little Walt. That would have been cool. But it turns out that the bears escaped from an old zoo on the other side of the island. Yeah, that's kind of lame.
Just like everything else on the show.
Two years later and nothing has really been wrapped up (except the polar bears, of course). They've just added more crap to an already convoluted mess. At its core, Lost is still the same mix of boring flashbacks (Sun and Jun had a terrible marriage... WE GET IT!!) and plot points (Dharma Project, The Others, Will Kate Choose Jack or Sawyer?) and stuff they've forgotten (smoke monsters, giant tree-crushing monsters, and just about everything else).
Want to impress me? WRAP IT UP! Answer ALL the questions and tie up ALL the loose ends... then come up with something that's MORE bad-ass and mysterious to keep the show interesting. Because hey, it works for Veronica Mars. Of course, with Veronica Mars, even THAT isn't good enough... they have to go back into already solved mysteries and make it so that everything you thought you knew was wrong! Genius!
But since that doesn't seem to be an option for this hideously bad show, I won't be tuning in to Lost again (nor any of the lamer next-gen imitators like Heroes, The Nine, Six Degrees, and whatnot). Large casts of inexplicably-connected people trying to solve mysteries that are never actually solved is not good television, it's just annoying.
Like the gnats.
I'd scream like a little bitch and wave my arms around if I thought it would help, but blogging about it is so much easier.
And it's not the kind of hungry where you just eat something to make it go away. It's the kind of hungry where you are more interested in the experience of eating than just having a full stomach. At times like this my mind starts racing with memorable culinary experiences I've had, followed by an incessant need to list some of them (which I will, in an extended entry), followed by the sadness I feel over writing about food I've enjoyed when so many people in this world go hungry... really hungry... every day...
My McChicken reminder of Happy Meals and hunger.
Hmmm... errr... uhhh... if anybody knows of a good way to seamlessly transition from talking about food to talking about urinal cakes, please let me know. In the meanwhile, I'll do what I usually do, and use the "blunt force" method which involves simply starting a new paragraph.
What is the deal with urinal cakes being PINK? And it's not even a manly kind of pink... it more of a feminine pink that you'd find on panties (not that I am claiming to actually own any of these panties) or a little girl's bedspread (not that I am claiming to be uncomfortably familiar with little girl's bedding preferences)...
Every time I step up to a urinal and find a little pink hockey puck floating in the bottom, I want to scream at the injustice of it all. Urinal cakes should be BLUE... or maybe even GREEN... but not yellow and certainly never, EVER, pink. If I were forced to choose between a bathroom which smelled like rancid urine and one that had pretty pink pellets in the urinal, I'D CHOOSE THE RANCID URINE SMELL EVERY TIME!! It may be unpleasant, odor-wise, but at least I won't have to suffer the indignity of having what little manhood I posses assaulted by girlie urinal cakes.
Anyway, if you have any appetite left at all, a partial list of favorite food experiences are in an extended entry...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
Fun! On the way home from work I was nearly run over by a stupid bitch who thought that talking on her mobile phone was more important than watching the road. I almost wish that she had, because having to come home and watch @%^#*!'s collection of complete crap win Project Runway had me praying for death.
This morning I received an email from a nice reader who has spent the last month reading Blogography ("a monthly archive every morning!"). After saying some very nice things that I am too modest to reprint (summary: I totally kick ass!), this reader asked a question I found quite interesting: "How did Bad Monkey lose all that weight?"
Because, if you look at the DaveToons over the years, it's quite a change...
The answer can be found in Bad Monkey's new book...
It turns out that Bad Monkey owes much of the success of his astounding weight loss to Jared Fogle.
Yes, that Jared Fogle... the Subway Sandwich whore.
But not in the way that you think.
You see, what Bad Monkey did was record all those stupid-ass Jared commercials, then mount a television and video player on top of his toilet tank. That way after every meal he could run to the bathroom, watch Subway commercials, and puke his guts out.
Because every time Jared comes out and compares an anemic Subway sandwich with NO mayonnaise and NO cheese to a Big Mac or something, I know it makes ME want to puke. It would be different if Jared were to simply say "I lost a lot of weight by eating right & exercising, and Subway was a part of that" — but he doesn't. Instead he comes out as a prostitute for Subway and and slams other restaurants like a whore. Why don't you compare a crappy Subway sandwich to a McDonalds salad? Or an Arby's Market Fresh sandwich with NO mayo and NO cheese? Or even a Quizno's sandwich with NO mayo and NO cheese?
What a f#@%ing tool.
And then the douchebag writes a "motivational self-help book." I haven't read it, but I sincerely doubt that it says "be a total whore by taking money to say whatever the company paying you tells you to say." Jared ate at Subway because he lived above a Subway restaurant. The fact that he decided to lose weight had nothing to do with Subway. It had everything to do with finally deciding to eat right. Because I can go into a Subway right now and order a sandwich with triple cheese and extra mayo just as easily as I can order one without.
I've taken some crap from people who think that I'm a dick for picking on somebody as "inspirational" as Jared. Well I think he's a dick for bashing other restaurants with nonsensical comparisons because somebody pays him to, and then acts like he's a hero by trotting out his old big-ass pants and telling people the key to losing weight is eating at Subway.
The only thing Jared inspires me to do is buy his book so I can wipe my ass with the pages.
Bad Monkey doesn't wipe or he would too.
WARNING... Project Runway season finale spoilerage in the comments...
I live in constant fear of cauliflower.
And broccoli too, but mostly cauliflower because it looks more like a human brain. Although if I stop and think about it, broccoli should be more scary because it's like a green alien brain or something.
Every once in a while I have nightmares where I am being chased by a head of cauliflower which has grown to a giant size by sucking out human brains. Eventually the evil cauliflower traps me in a dead-end alley and there's nowhere to run. I pull out a gun and start firing at the vegetable hellspawn, only to find out that he is bullet-proof...
Then, just as the cauliflower is about to eat my brain, I wake up.
And I smell cauliflower.
But then I realize that I farted in my sleep, and that's what caused the nightmare.
Which makes me wonder why people would eat something that smells like farts in the first place.
Tonight I was watching a Steven Wright stand-up special on Comedy Central. The final break had a new Subway commercial where Jared the Subway Sandwich Whore trotted out subs with 6 grams of fat each and compared them to a "Burger King Stacker" which has 54 grams of fat because it's piled high with beef and bacon. FOR THE LAST TIME YOU STUPID F#@%... IF YOU WERE CONCERNED ABOUT FAT WHILE EATING AT BURGER KING, YOU WOULDN'T BUY THE FATTIEST THING ON THE MENU!! Why doesn't Burger King have a commercial where somebody comes out and compares a BK Veggie sandwich with 8 grams of fat to a Subway Spicy Italian Sub with extra cheese and mayo which has 305 grams of fat?? F#@% Subway. And double-f#@% that moron Jared Fogle. He has got to be the biggest douchebag asshole on the face of the planet. I'd like to strangle the idiot with his giant pair of f#@%ing pants and then deep-fry his f#@%ing head...
Then I'd make my own television commercial where I would compare Jared's fat head to a Subway Meatball Sub sandwich. They appear to be equal in brain cell grams.
This morning a piece of spam somehow managed to get past both my spam service and my local spam filter. This happens every once in a while, but usually not when it has a subject line that reads "Make your penis the happiest penis in the world with Penis Adam & Eve Penis Pump!" I guess that the overuse of the word "penis" must have crashed the system or something.
I don't know which is worse... that spam is intruding on my inbox, or that my penis may be unhappy because I haven't purchased him a penis pump. And since my penis and I stopped speaking months ago, I don't really know how to inquire about that...
But I can't think about my penis just now, because I just retrieved a very disturbing voicemail from my parole officer today.
Apparently, I have 24 hours of community service left to turn in or else I won't be released from probation, and she's going to recommend that my term be extended six months to a year! This upsets me quite a lot because I've been so busy lately, and haven't had time to put in any community service hours. She then goes on to tell me "you need to call me TOMORROW, Jose, or else we won't have time to resolve this before your court date."
My name isn't Jose. It's Dave.
And then I remember that I don't have a parole officer, nor am I under a community service order. I've never been caught for any of my crimes.
I guess I should call Jose's parole officer tomorrow and tell her that she left a message at the wrong number or else Jose is going to be in trouble... errr... going to be in more trouble.
In better news today (not involving my penis or a parole officer) my copy of Depeche Mode's Touring the Angel: Live in Milan arrived. I managed to snag the digipack version which includes a DVD of the concert, CD of selected tracks, and a bonus DVD for $8.79 at Half.com, a total bargain! I then did what I always do when I get a new Depeche Mode DVD... I watched ALL of my DM concert videos in sequence so I can listen to how their performance changes over the years. Touring the Angel is pretty darn good (I went and saw it live in Chicago with Kapgar last year), but not quite as good as 101 and Devotional which are tied for my all-time favorite.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to sit down and have a talk with my penis before retiring for the evening.
I have mixed feelings on Halloween.
On one hand, you've got little moron children dressing up in costumes and losing their frickin' minds. I'm sure this has been true since Trick-Or-Treating was invented because, well, children + free candy... you do the math. The problem is that now-a-days parents don't seem to give a crap about watching their kids. They're too busy talking on their mobile phones to supervise anything (not that they seem to give a crap in the first place). Usually you can do your best to avoid it, but on Halloween the little hellions show up on your doorstep. It's not like you can avoid that (at least not without having your car egged).
On the other hand, this is the one day I can be quasi-evil in public and get away with it.
In celebration of the day, I'm going to eat a bowl of candy for breakfast.
For as long as I can remember, I've been in love with animation. When done well, it's an art-form that's in a class all its own. The problem is that creating good animation is incredibly difficult. Every second of the project takes anywhere from 8 to 24 drawings, and each of those drawing "frames" has to transition perfectly from one to the next in order to look smooth and natural.
Sure there are computer programs that can help with some of that, but there are certain kinds of movement which look best when hand-animated, and there are no shortcuts that will give you good results. When I decided to create a monthly animated cartoon program called "Dave's Bad-Ass Blogography Show," I did not know this. I thought I could create a few simple images, shove them into the computer, and have perfect animation pop out. Sadly, this was not at all the case, and it will be a while before I have time to devote to a show like that.
In the meanwhile, I still have an overwhelming desire to create a cartoon of my own.
So I decided to animate a short music video. Nothing fancy, just a simple exercise to find out what it takes to have Lil' Dave and Bad Monkey running around doing crazy stuff for 3-1/2 minutes. As of today, I have been putting in two hours every night for over a week and have completed a total of 10 seconds. It would appear that even a simple music video is exceedingly time consuming and difficult.
I don't plan on posting any footage I've created until the project is done, but I do have a couple test shots I worked on a few months ago while I was story-boarding. The very first thing I animated was a jumping monkey (which I used here). After that, I wanted to do something more complicated and created a disco monkey...
He's not bad, but his left arm has some freaky jumps going on and his right hand needs to be doing something. A month after that, I was tired of monkeys and had moved on to something a bit trickier (which is here).
About a week after that, I worked on a "raise the roof" move for Lil' Dave...
This was the first piece of footage that I was fairly happy with, and the first bit to actually end up in the video (all two seconds of it). It's only eight frames, but took three hours to finish.
Tonight I plan to take a break from the tedium of animating characters and work on backgrounds. The video has eighteen locations (so far) and every one of theme needs to be drawn. I have no idea how long that's going to take.
Why couldn't I be obsessed with something easy?
I'm not a very good blogger because I don't really write for an audience. When I sit down to create my daily entry, I just hammer out whatever pops into my head and don't really think about whether or not people will want to read it. The fact that anybody ever does is a source of constant amazement to me. That's why I never know how to feel on those rare occasions when somebody feels the need to tell me what I should or shouldn't be writing here.
Because, well, seriously... it's not like anybody is paying me for this. I'll write what I want to... even if it means there will be a periodic entry about wiping my ass or some other strange crap.
But I got a curious half-dozen emails asking me how I was creating my animation, and wanting to know everything from what tools I draw with to how I come up with my ideas. Rather than keep answering each one separately, I decided to just go ahead and answer them all at once in an extended entry. In addition, I'll post an occasional sketch, storyboard graphic, or frame of animation as a teaser for what I'm up to. It's not something I had planned on (because I don't want to spoil the surprise) but it's kind of nice to have some feedback every once in a while.
So, if this kind of stuff interests you, by all means carry on reading. Otherwise, tomorrow I'll be back whining about something else.→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
Time for your bullet-proof vest... SUNDAY IS HERE!!
• Cars! I never managed to catch Pixar's latest film Cars while it was in the theater. Now that I see how beautiful it is on DVD, I'm really regretting it. Because, while I had a hard time buying into a world populated entirely by automobiles, it was just so amazing to look at that I didn't care. Every detail was painstakingly represented and, if you've ever seen a NASCAR race, the track action was superb. The icing on the cake was the top-notch voice acting by Owen Wilson, who convincingly conveys a surprising emotional range as race car "Lightning McQueen"...
Awww... cute! It's an adorable talking race car!
I still don't think that the Pixar cars are as clever as the Aardmann cars for those Chevron commercials (is it just me, or do the Pixar cars all look cross-eyed?)... but this film does have the benefit of being the only funny thing I have ever seen "Larry The Cable Guy" associated with. It's no Toy Story or Monster's Inc. but still a lot of fun (unlike John Tucker Must Die, which was a boatload of crap and one of the worst movies I've seen in recent memory).
• Stats! Last month my "unique visitor counts had dropped for the first time in years. Now they've jumped by 36,000 for late October/early November... I guess people just love a monkey eating urinal cakes.
• The Office! For a while there I was getting really tired of Steve Carell's constant idiocy in the Americanized version of The Office but, after seeing his brilliant performance in Little Miss Sunshine, I decided to start watching again. Now I'm like a teenage girl, because I find myself saying things like "OMG! Isn't Jim and Pam going to be like the cutest couple ever?!" And who thought I would ever feel sorry for Roy? Oh well... I am so totally in love with Jenna Fischer now! She was great on Letterman, and looked brutally hot compared to her frumpy character on the show.
Now I'm mad that I stopped watching! They sell episodes at the iTunes Music Store, so I'm going to have to shell out some coin and get caught up.
Awww... cute! It's an adorable talking girl!
• Lost! And on the other end of the television spectrum... I've been complaining for months about what a suck-fest Lost has become after that brilliant first season. Unlike excellent shows like Veronica Mars which wrap shit up and move on to something better... Lost just lingers on, never providing a payoff. Now I notice that more and more people are feeling the same way, including this article at New York Magazine. I don't know if it is the writers, producers, or network that are insisting on being so frakkin' stupid, but if things keep going like this the show will be cancelled before they ever bother to answer anything. What a waste of time. But that seems to be typical for television lately.
• Veteran's Day! It was my intention yesterday to write a Veteran's Day entry but, given the drama of my dying PowerBook, I didn't get around to it. Even so, there's never a wrong time to be grateful to those who have served...
Bad Monkey's new best friend: Buddy Poppy
• Sucks Less! Several people have brought to my attention that Sucks Less with Kevin Smith is now being streamed via Flash for Mac users. You can check it out right here. The Smith intros are pretty funny, though some of the actual clips in the show are kind of lame. Something that is NOT lame is Clerks 2 which is finally dropping on DVD in a mere 16 days. Time to start watching all of my Kevin Smith DVDs so I am ready to go.
And on that note, I'm off to work. Monday deadlines blow.
Years ago I was with my mother at the check-out lane of our local market, and heard the bag-boy say those classic words for the very first time: "paper or plastic?" It was memorable to me because my mother had thought they were asking if she was paying with cash (paper) or credit card (plastic). Once they explained that they were actually asking whether she wanted a paper or plastic BAG, my mother ended up sticking with the paper sack because it was all she knew. It didn't help that the plastic bags were so thin and flimsy that they looked as if they would fall apart on the way to the car.
And she was not alone.
Nobody wanted the plastic bags.
Every time I went to the store I heard "paper or plastic" again and again, but noticed that the paper sack was always chosen. This must have been depressing to the store, because the plastic sacks were so much cheaper, yet they sat there unused. But one day we went back to the market and there was a display at the checkout counter. They had a plastic bag filled with the heaviest of groceries being suspended from a hook. It was made even more impressive by the fact that they had slashed holes in the bag with groceries poking out everywhere... but it still did not break. So, even though they looked a more fragile than the paper option, the plastic was actually quite a bit tougher.
After that, everybody started asking for the miraculous plastic bags that could effortlessly hold lots of crap (and had convenient handles built-in). Sure there were people who still didn't want the "new-fangled bags" but they were in the minority, because everywhere you looked shoppers were walking around with plastic. The future of shopping had arrived.
Besides, they're fantastically useful. I'll bet there are a million things you can do with plastic shopping bags!
Paper bag manufacturers tried to compete by adding handles, water-proof coating, and other stuff... but it was too late. Plastic had won the war, and there was no going back. Soon it was increasingly rare to see any paper bags at a grocery store. Why bother when everybody is going to want plastic anyway?
It was then that paper bag fans (and manufacturers, I'd imagine) started getting upset. "PLASTIC BAGS ARE BAD FOR THE ENVIRONMENT!" they would scream. At least they did until studies were released that said plastic bags had a slightly less damaging effect on the environment (surprise!)... but it didn't matter much because BOTH paper and plastic were ultimately a bad thing (environmentally speaking). The best solution is to re-use a cloth bag over and over again (no surprise there). Sadly, hardly anybody bothers to do this. After all, what would they put their garbage in if they didn't get their plastic grocery bags? In Ireland you have to pay a fee every time you use a plastic bag... maybe if that happened here, people would come up with a more eco-friendly solution. Oh well.
Flash-forward to today and paper bags are making a kind of comeback. Upscale markets are using them again not because they are cheaper or better for the environment... but because they're "cool." I suppose the "perceived ecological friendliness" of paper must be a factor as well, which I find kind of funny.
Especially today when I was in line behind some Birkenstock-wearing hippy bitch at the grocery check-out.
"DON'T YOU HAVE PAPER BAGS?!? PLASTIC IS BAD FOR THE ENVIRONMENT!! she bellowed. The cashier apologized but, alas, he had no paper bags. "WELL THAT'S JUST GREAT!" she yells... her face scrunched into an eternal scowl. She then collected her shopping (which included a gallon of milk in a plastic jug, and various other environmentally-hostile containers) and went stomping out the door...
... WHERE SHE PROCEEDED TO HOP INTO HER OLD BEAT-UP CADILLAC ESCALADE, WHICH PROBABLY ONLY GETS 12 MILES PER GALLON, AND DROVE OFF INTO THE SUNSET!
I guess in this case "hippy" stands for "hypocritical?"
Sigh. Maybe it's the rain, but I really want to bitch-slap just about everybody today.
w00t! VERONICA MARS SEASON THREE HAS BEEN EXTENDED FROM 13 to 20 EPISODES! That's two less than a "regular" season, but far better than not being extended at all. Now if only they would offer the episode for sale at the iTunes Music Store.
I hit a major snag in animating my music video last night. I was playing test footage and suddenly realized that I was very unhappy with the composition of the clips. The characters are all kind of short, so I always ended up having to zoom way into the scene in order to avoid having big gaps at the top and bottom of the frame. This has everything looking claustrophobic and makes Lil' Dave's world seem so small...
This is very bad, because there's no way to center in on the action when the entire screen is moving. At first I was just going to reduce all the elements by 85%, but that was even worse. The action was just a blob in the middle of the screen.
It was then that I decided to just bite the bullet and recompose every shot in HiDef...
Suddenly all of my problems disappeared. Not only that, but widescreen allows so many more interesting options for scene composition... clips that were kind of boring and hard to follow actually end up looking interesting. The bad news is that all the work I've done so far has to be thrown out, recomposed, and partially re-animated. This was upsetting at first but, after I realized it was an opportunity to make things better, I was okay with it.
Except for the jungle scene. The thought of having to go back and re-draw those backgrounds fills me with dread. Just one of them took five hours, and now they're twice as big.
Argh. When did having fun become work?
Thanks to a diet consisting largely of butter, cheese, Coke with Lime, and Little Debbie snack cakes, I've managed to pack on ten pounds in preparation for my winter fast. I'm sure a week in the midwest eating Chicago pizza, Johnny Rocket burgers, Pasta Salvi, and Wisconsin cheese will get me the additional three to five pounds I need. I don't want to end up in the hole after fasting, because the last thing I feel like doing is trying to regain weight afterwards. The only downside is that getting into my pants each morning is more of a struggle than usual. Maybe I should spend the next week in sweatpants? There's a lot of room in sweatpants...
After a morning tying up loose ends at work, I needed to hit a cash machine so I'll have "airport blueberry muffin breakfast money" tomorrow. It's cold outside, so I'm bummed to find out that there's somebody at the ATM ahead of me. Even worse, she seems to be having problems because she stands there for quite a while beep-beeping the buttons. Eventually she gives up and walks away from the machine with a handful of receipts (no money) crying. I would have asked her if she needed some help, but she never gave me the chance. The next thing I know she's in her car tearing off into the cold winter's day.
I've now spent the better part of my afternoon wondering what the deal was.
I think I've narrowed it down to this: she contracted a rare blood disease while building schools for orphans in Africa and found out this morning that she only has 6 months to live. This tragedy was compounded when she discovered after the doctor visit that her husband has been cheating on her with her best friend while she was abroad. Then, just as she was coming to grips with the horrible turn her life had taken, her pet puppy Barnaby became violently ill. A trip to the vet revealed that Barnaby was near death and needed medicine to survive. Wanting to do one good thing with her life before she dies, the woman bundles up her puppy and heads to the cash machine so she can buy the medicine, only to find out that her cheating husband had cleared out the account.
Either that, or she spent all her money getting drunk last night and didn't have any cash for cigarettes.
No matter which scenario, I feel bad that I didn't act faster to give her a fiver. Now Barnaby's blood (or her nicotine withdrawal) is on my hands.
This has not been my week.
And just when I think that I'm back on track, something happens to let me know that this simply is not true... usually first thing in the morning. Yesterday I wandered into the shower and absent-mindedly ripped into my freshly-electrocuted face with Apricot Exfoliating Scrub. You'd think that this is about the worst thing that could happen to you in the shower... but you would be wrong.
This morning I was washing my hair with Philosophy Strawberry Milkshake Shampoo when I decided that my head wasn't bubbly enough, and reached for that big 10-pound bottle to squeeze out some more.
This was a mistake.
I must have still been half-asleep or something, because when I grabbed the bottle it somehow slipped and ended up cracking me right in the balls.
The incident ended up looking something like this...
This woke me up very, very quickly.
And now, even though it's almost five hours later, the pain still lingers.
Those of you who have balls know exactly what I mean. Those of you who don't should kick a guy in the nuts sometime and have him explain it to you (but please do not mention my name... the last thing I need is to be chased down the street by a mob of guys with aching balls).
I am beginning to think that this kind of crap happens to me because I have a blog.
Subconsciously, I must be setting myself up for horribly embarrassing tales of woe so that I have something to blog about. No other guys I know have ever mentioned accidentally smacking their own balls* with a big bottle of pink shampoo. Though, now that I think about it, what guy would ever admit to something so stupid like that?
Would it help to say that after this incident I shot a grizzly bear, drank a six-pack of beer, then skydived into the Playboy Mansion where I had a three-way with playmates of the year Tiffany Fallon and Kara Monaco?
I have got to find a new hobby.
* Note that I have plenty of stories of guys smacking some OTHER guy's balls with a big bottle of pink shampoo... those post-game locker room celebrations are "c-r-a-z-y" crazy.
Why is it that every time I really want my camera, I've left it at home?
Since I haven't been out of the country for over a year, I didn't realize that my passport had expired until I looked at it this morning. This really sucks ass, because even if you pay the "expedited handling fee" it will still take up to two weeks to get your renewal. Since I am leaving in three weeks, I had to FedEx it out TODAY in case something gets screwed up along the way. This meant a trip to Wenatchee so I could have new photos taken at the AAA.
Because of the recent heavy snowfall, all the snow from Wenatchee's streets is piled up three feet high in the center turn lane. This is kind of a pain in the ass, because any time you want to make a left turn, you have to keep going until you find a plowed intersection, then do a U-turn and backtrack to where you needed to turn. This has been going on for the 20+ years I've been driving, and everybody just deals with it the best they can.
Except one crazy bitch who thought her little Nissan Sentra could break through a wall of snow three feet tall and make that left turn. Needless to say, this wasn't going to happen. Not only did she screw up her front bumper, but she high-centered herself on the snow. Since she was blocking the lane, two guys from a truck ahead of me decided to get out and see if they could push her off. The entire time she was screaming her head off and, when I rolled down my window to listen, this is part of what I heard...
Of course, being the stupid f#@%ing dumbass that she is, she naturally decides to blame everybody except herself. I find clueless morons like this highly entertaining, and I was cursing myself for not having my camera with me because I would have totally posted a photo of the hilarity that was ensuing.
But, after a minute or so, the two guys managed to push her off the snowbank and she sped off... still screaming at nobody in particular, but mad at everybody except herself.
Anyway... my new passport photo sucks ass, as usual. I look even more like a terrorist than last time, which is bound to make for some exciting new memories to treasure as I pass through Customs for the next ten years. Of course, like anybody who travels extensively, I'm sure that I've already got a lovely profile on record with Homeland Security. Hopefully it only says nice things about me, because I always try to be nice to everybody when I enter or leave the country.
Of course, if I ever DO get detained, I now know exactly how I should act...
Yes. From what I see on a daily basis, raving like a complete idiot seems to be the American Way now. I can totally do that. US Customs agents would be disappointed if I didn't act like a fool... after all, I'm sure they find clueless morons highly entertaining as well.
Except clueless morons, of course. They just don't know any better.
Every once in a while I get an email asking me questions about the DaveToons I draw for Blogography. Usually it's asking which program I use to draw them (Adobe Illustrator) or how long it takes to make one (about 5-15 minutes depending on difficulty) or how I animate them (Toon Boom Studio) or how I learned to draw them (I'm self-taught). A more extensive explanation of the awful, semi-fictional PG-13 truth is here.
But today's email asked a question I've never received before... what cartoons do I like, and where do I get my inspiration for the Lil' Dave and Bad Monkey toons I draw?
Hmmmm... where to start? I have loved cartooning and animation for as long as I can remember. Disney, Looney Tunes, and Peanuts were an obsession in my formative years, and led to a life-long love which has expanded to include new favorites, like Katsuhiro Otomo and Hayao Miyazaki.
But when trying to trace what inspires Lil' Dave and Bad Monkey specifically, I can narrow it down to three sources (that I am consciously aware of, there are many more I'm sure)...
Calvin learns why Dave is afraid of cauliflower...
CALVIN AND HOBBES
Bill Watterson's master work Calvin and Hobbes is simply the best comic ever created. It's all at once riotously funny, touchingly poignant, and wonderfully life-affirming. How Watterson managed to pack all that into a strip about a little boy and his stuffed tiger is nothing short of miraculous. I wouldn't presume to think that Lil' Dave is on a level even approaching Calvin's brilliance, but I do like to think that he shares the innocence and imagination that made Calvin's world so much fun. If I was stranded on a desert island and could have only one book to take with me, it would be The Complete Calvin and Hobbes. There's a part of me that will always be hoping that Watterson will one day release a new Calvin project, because reading it is an experience you never want to end.
Bad Monkey meets GIR from Invader Zim
It is always a source of great sadness that the wacky and wonderful world of Jhonen Vasquez's Invader Zim was cancelled way before its time. It was a cartoon series that actually seemed to be heading somewhere, and the sheer insanity of it all made me fall in love with the show from the first time I saw it. But, as great as the character of Invader Zim is, it's his malfunctioning robot sidekick GIR that I liked best. He's an irritating, bungling, inept, and totally insane little companion... but Zim loves him anyway. Much like Bad Monkey's naughty, drunken, and totally inappropriate behavior is likewise irritating to Lil' Dave, but he loves him just the same. If you've never experienced Invader Zim, it's kind of hard to explain... but you can buy the show at the iTunes music store (or rent the DVD) and see for yourself. Most people are probably not going to dig it, but it's one of my favorite cartoon series of all time (followed by Batman: The Animated Series, Pinky and The Brain, Family Guy, and Top Cat).
DaveToon homages to South Park pop up from time to time. Here there are FOUR!
If there is one show that has forever changed the landscape of cartoons as a medium for adult entertainment, it would be South Park. Sure The Simpsons revived the genre of more mature-oriented cartoons that hadn't been seen since The Flintstones, yet it was South Park that shattered the genre completely. But, to me, even more important than what the show does is how it does it. The first incarnation of the show was crudely animated by hand as a school project for Trey Parker and Matt Stone. They didn't have a studio, massive funding, or anybody telling them what they could (and couldn't!) do... yet look what came of it. This is inspiring to anybody who dreams of creating animation of their own, and has certainly inspired me to goof around with it.
Argh. I have the sudden urge to watch Invader Zim and South Park while reading Calvin and Hobbes. I'm never going to get caught up with my work now.
Oh how I dread the drive home from work each night. There's just too many idiots on the road. Last night was particularly nasty, because I ran across somebody in the ditch who apparently thought that his 4-wheel drive made him immune to sliding on ice. I stopped to make sure everything was okay, only to find out he had already called somebody with a winch to pull his truck out. "Heh heh... watch out, it's slippery out there" he says.
Uhhhh, yeah. That's what happens when water gets cold.
But before I drove home from work, I put on my gloves and wondered for the millionth time why glove manufacturers are so frickin' stupid that they consistently make the thumb and little finger too long. Every pair of gloves I've ever owned has had an extra inch of fabric flapping around on my "hang loose" digits. Very annoying. I mean, seriously, just LOOK at this lunacy (thanks to the "X-Ray" attachment on my Epson scanner)...
GAH! Dumbass glove manufacturers!! Surely I'm not the only one who notices this stuff?
HOLY CRAP! It's me, isn't it? I'M A MUTANT!! Somehow my mutant super-power is to have a thumb and little finger shorter than everybody else! THAT'S why gloves never fit me...
Or maybe it's my middle fingers that are longer. Who knows. I wonder if this is a good enough mutant super-power to get me into the X-Men? Probably not, but it might get me into a cheap horror movie...
Of course, Lil' Dave only has four fingers.
Not because he's a mutant, but because he's a cartoon.
Oh well. I try not to feel too badly for him... he can still flip-off people who irritate him. That's all that really matters, isn't it?
I had a long hard day at work and didn't get home until 10:30. This is not the best way to spend a Sunday holiday. Some would argue that it's not the best way to spend any day but, sadly, I'm used to it. So when I finally drag my sorry ass to the couch for some quality TiVo time, I realize that I haven't written in my blog today. That sucks, because I don't really feel like it now. For the first time in years, I actually consider skipping a day.
Until I turn on the television and see Dr. Daniel Stein M.D. telling me how he has devoted his professional life to improving the sexual health of others. "Holy crap!" I say to myself as images of this creepy doctor instructing people how to have sex fill my head. But it turns out he's selling penis enlargement pills called (hah!) ExtenZe. Actually, they're MAXIUM STRENGTH Extenze (I guess when it comes to giving yourself a bigger penis, there's no half-way, so "regular strength" ExtenZe is not an option).
But penis enlargement pills are not the reason I decided to blog, however.
It's what Dr. Daniel Stein M.D. said next...
"I have personally researched the formula in ExtenZe, and found it to be truly effective."
Which is another way of saying "I've tried the stuff, and now I have a massive, massive penis."
"Well that explains why they only show him from the waist up" I say to nobody in particular. Suddenly I wonder if this is the secret to Lil' Dave's own massive endowment, and consider offering him to the Stein Medical Institute as a spokesperson (spokestoon?)...
There's a part of me that actually wants to call for the free sample to see if it actually works... and then blog about it. I can picture it now...
"DAY 10: My penis is now so big that I had to buy a larger pair of pants today..."
In other news, I got an email from somebody a few weeks ago which I thought was spam offering to "increase your search engine position" and was about to trash it when I realized it wasn't an offer, it was a question. A guy was asking if I was preventing Google from indexing my site, because he was having problems Googling my blog. I go check it out and, sure enough, Googling "blogography" shows no results for my "Blogography" (yet at Yahoo, Ask.com, MSN and other search engines I show up fine). I have no idea why. Signing up for Google's "Webmaster Tools" reveals nothing and provides no way of finding out. I guess it doesn't matter, because it's not like I'm getting money for visitors or anything... but it is strange how dozens of sites that link here show up while the actual "blogography.com" does not. Oh well. It's not like anybody at Google is going to care about a blog like mine.
And then today I read where Boing Boing, one of the biggest web sites in existence, is having the same problem.
Now that I know a site like Boing Boing has also gone missing, I have to wonder if Google's search results are worth a crap anymore. Perhaps it's time to go back to Yahoo? If I were running a business, I would be totally screwed, because Google IS search, and there's doesn't seem to be anything you can do if you disappear.
On the bright side, I should be grateful because I don't really want my site popping up when people Google "massive penis."
But that would have been my favorite part...
Does anybody know a good place that the general public can buy flamethrowers at discount? Wikipedia says that private ownership of flamethrowers is not restricted in the US, yet I couldn't find them for sale at Target. I'm pretty sure that you can't get them at K-Mart or Wal-Mart either. This is puzzling to me, because it seems that so many of my daily problems could be easily solved if I started carrying a flamethrower with me.
In fact, if I did own a flamethrower, I would have used it at least a half-dozen times before lunch today. Just think of all the cool things you could do with it! No more raking leaves in the yard... flamethrower! Shoveling snow is a thing of the past... flamethrower! Have to clean the bathtub... flamethrower! Microwave broke and you need some popcorn... flamethrower! And that's just the beginning...
The ultimate cure for viruses on your Windows PC... flamethrower!
The perfect revenge for dumbasses who cut you off in traffic... flamethrower!
The cost-effective solution when giant killer clowns invade the planet... flamethrower!
What a handy thing to have around the house!
A pity I can't add one to my Amazon Wish List.
And in non-flamable news... sadly, I haven't had much time to play with my Wii. I try to sneak in a level of "Elebits" when I have the chance, but even that seems rare. I haven't even looked at "Zelda" yet. One thing I did do was create a new Mii. Mr. Jerz sent me "Miidonna" and so I made "Miilizabeth HurlWii" to send back. Somehow the idea of playing a game of tennis as Liz HurlWii is appealing to me. Probably because it's as close to playing with Liz as I am ever going to get.
Apparently I do have time for memes though... there's one from Karla in an extended entry...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
• Bullets... If I thought about it long enough, I'd probably be taking today's bullet points and shooting myself in the head with them. Yesterday was a disaster. My migraine kept getting worse and worse despite my taking The Special Pills. But The Special Pills just made me nauseous on top of feeling like my head was going to explode. So I was hurting and puking while trying to work, which did not make for a very productive day. Now I'm way behind, and will probably have to work straight through the next 36 hours. Still with a headache.
• Relationship... I finally managed to scrape together the money to pay off my "90-days-same-as-cash" Apple credit balance before the deadline. So I call to be sure that I have the pay-off amount correct (last time they tried to screw me by slapping on a $2 "billing fee," not telling me about it, then slapping me with $130 in accumulated interest). While on hold, a recorded voice kept telling me that a "Relationship Manager" would be with me in a moment. "Relationship Manager?" That sounds like somebody whom busy yuppies hire in order to work out their complex schedules so that they can find time to have sex. I don't know about you, but this is a much closer relationship than I am wanting to have with a bank.
• O RLY?... And, combining my first two bullet points, I am reminded of a time I attempted to build a relationship while battling a migraine headache AND being nauseated by The Special Pills. It all started when I was set up on a date with a girl who I really, really liked... but from a distance. I didn't know her very well at all. A mutual friend asked her if she wanted to go out with me, and she said something like "oh, he's funny!" and agreed. But, on the day we decided on dinner and a movie, I was hit with a huge migraine. Desperately not wanting to break our date for fear I would never get another one, I doped up on The Special Pills and went on my way. Dinner was painful. She talked and talked and talked about... well, nothing, really. My head was throbbing, and she simply would not stop talking. After paying the check I went to the bathroom so I could throw up. Then we drove to the movie with her talking all the way... I was SO looking forward to the film starting in anticipation of finally getting some peace and quiet. Alas, it was not to be. She talked through the entire film...
*Those unfamiliar with internet-speak can get an "O RLY" explanation here.
It was the longest night of my life. Puking in the bathroom was actually a hilight. The funny thing was that she thought the date went great, and asked my friend if I would be asking her out again. Sure she was fun to look at, but the thought of having to endure another night of her non-stop talking without guarantee of a sexual return was more than I could take. I didn't make just one excuse to get out of asking her out again, I made five.
• Hindsight... YOU IDIOT! Do you know how rare it is to find a woman who would be willing talk to you... AT ALL?!?
• Memes... What's with all the memes lately? This latest one comes from Neil, and I've put it in an extended entry...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
For dinner tonight I had a Four Cheese Pizza Hot Pocket. It was good.
I love pockets. When it comes to buying coats or backpacks or suitcases or whatever, the number of pockets is a major selling point for me. I've lost count of the number of times that I've been comparison shopping and made my decision based on which item has the higher pocket-count. That's how I decided to buy my new Swiss Army Synergy backpack... it has an abundance of pockets. I found this kind of strange, because Swiss Army is famous for combining bunches of tools in a single item, which would actualy require less pockets.
When "painter's pants" were in fashion, I was in heaven, because of all those extra pockets. I especially liked the pocket that was perfectly sized to hold my fat-handle comb. I secretly hope that one day painter's pants come back in style. Not because I want to start carrying a fat-handle comb again (the 80's are over), but because I'm sure I could find cool stuff to put in all those pockets.
My Helly Hanson jacket is ten years old, but I just can't bear to get rid of it because I like its configuration of pockets. There's a pocket in the collar which is meant to hold the rain hood, but I put all sorts of crazy stuff in there. Like the time I bought a $5 boxed lunch on a plane trip. It was pretty good, except there was a little beef stick that I didn't want. I was too embarrassed to slip my little beef stick to the stewardess, so I stuck it in my collar pocket instead. It turned up six months later when it was raining and I needed my hood. I threw it in the garbage, but I kind of regret it now... what if I ever need to distract a guard dog? That little beef stick would have come in handy.
Secret pockets are the best though. My Timbuk2 Courier Bag has tons of pockets, but my favorite is the full-length front-interior secret pocket because it's not easily noticed. I owned the bag for two months before I found it.
That was one of the happiest days in my life.
Because pockets are good...
I still have no idea what that tiny pocket in a pair of Levi's is for, however.
Oh that's just swell... my internet connection is freaking out again. I think it must have something to do with the cheap-ass router they gave me when I signed up for DSL, because even a power-down and reset doesn't fix things. I wonder how much that's going to cost to replace?
As I sit here like an internet junkie without his broadband smack, I contemplate putting away my MacBook and unpacking my suitcase full of dirty clothes before it starts to smell. But I've got a full bottle of Febreeze under the sink, so I decide to wait for the weekend. Hopefully nothing comes alive in there in the next four days.
Instead I think I'll draw monkeys with guns...
Monkeys with guns are funny.
Unless, of course, you happen to be anywhere in the vicinity when they are firing them off. Something tells me that monkeys would tend to be a bit irresponsible with guns.
Will somebody please give me a couple million dollars so I can stop working and travel the earth?
Because this morning I woke up and realized that I have never been to South America and started freaking out. Will I ever get to see Rio de Janeiro's Cristo Redentor before I die? Or the ruins at Machu Picchu? The Galapagos Islands? Iguazu Falls? Angel Falls? Or even Isla Margarita? I think that I would be very disappointed in whatever afterlife awaits if I didn't at least visit Lake Titicaca. Because when hanging out with your deceased friends, I'd imagine nothing would be a better conversation-starter than "Yeah, I did Titicaca."
Perhaps I am being greedy though. I've been lucky enough to have seen more of this planet than many people ever will. Shouldn't I be satisfied with that much?
Being the greedy bastard that I am, I'm fairly certain the answer is "no." Because no matter how much I see and do, there's always someplace new to explore...
And really, when I stop and think about it, South America is only the tip of the iceberg. There's a lot of holes on my map that need filling in. A lot of places that I would like to visit. A lot of new friends to make. A lot of life to experience.
Of course, it's entirely possible that I'm just freaking out because I woke up and discovered I was out of clean underwear. I ended up wearing swimming trunks under my pants today, and I'm pretty sure this can mess with your head.
But if somebody still wants to give me a couple million dollars, that would be great.
Ah yes, another Valentine's Day.
Even if I didn't know this from looking at a calendar or cruising the blogosphere, I would probably be able to guess because of the search referrals showing up in my blog stats. For the past couple of days I've been hammered by people searching for "romance" and "love" and such.
One of the more popular entries returned is from a meme question I answered back in May 2005...
How would somebody go about winning your heart? Don't try to change me. Don't lie to me. Don't make me be the one to always decide what to do. Don't smoke. Don't expect me to read your mind. Don't smother me. Don't buy me stuffed animals. Don't obsess over my every move. Don't demand to know what I've been doing every moment of every day. Don't ask me to like your friends that don't like me. Don't ask me to forgive you for making out with your ex-boyfriend because "nothing happened." Don't get upset when I don't feel like going shopping. Don't be cruel. Don't play mind-games. Don't think you can't talk to me about it. Don't get mad at me for something without letting me know why. Don't go to bed angry. Don't think I don't care. Or, if all else fails, iron my shirt and buy me a beer.
Yeah, I know... I know... I'm a total romantic. But that pales in comparison to the heart-warming story I answered for another meme back in September of 2004...
What's the most romantic gesture someone's made to you? A girl I was dating completely disarmed me once when she gave me new shoelaces. Yes, shoelaces. I was flying out on a trip, and she stopped to see me off on her way to work. After giving me a goodbye kiss, she handed me a package of shoelaces with a bow on top. She had noticed that my laces were a little "mangy," and thought I should have a new pair for my trip. The fact that she paid attention to such a tiny detail in my life really meant a lot to me. No other romantic gesture has ever come close.
Awwwww... a pity she ended up going psycho on me because, other than the feeling that she was going to kill me in my sleep one night, she was a keeper. And, on that happy note, here is this year's Valentine Card from me to you...
Uhhh... you'll have to forgive Bad Monkey. He's been kicked in the teeth by love one too many times.
Anyway, Happy Valentine's Day. My cards from the three previous years are in an extended entry...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
A couple years ago when they were electing a new Pope, I decided it would be a good idea to sign up for the position. It seemed like a sweet career move and, if nothing else, I thought it would be cool to drive around in the Popemobile and pick up women.
I don't know if you heard, but I didn't get the job. The Catholic Church instead decided to go with somebody who has a little more religious experience (as in 78 years old experience). This is a darn shame, because I think I would look most excellent in that Pope hat...
Well, today I discovered yet another reason that I really need to get that job the next time around... as Pope, you have the ability to render a decision as infallible. According to a Wikipedia entry I found, Popes rarely exercise this privilege. It is an extremely uncommon event, and one that the Pope (and the Church) take very seriously.
This would not be the case if I were Pope.
If I were Pope, ALL OF MY DECISIONS WOULD BE RENDERED AS INFALLIBLE!
Maybe it's because I'm a certified genius, but I think it's more likely because I am never wrong*. I have a track record of being infallible already, so why not take the logical next step?
It would also be incredibly handy for those times that people argue with me for no reason other that to be irritating. As Pope, I would simply decree my decision INFALLIBLE and that would be the end of it. No more arguing. No more drama. No more wasted time. Just the bliss that comes from being inarguably correct in every way, all the time.
In the event that (heaven forbid) a new opening becomes available, I'll be sending my resume off to The Vatican tomorrow.
* Misunderstood, perhaps, but never actually wrong.
Yesterday I was at the library to drop off some videos when I saw a children's book titled Airport by Byron Barton. "Wow" I said to myself, they did a book adaptation of the movie Airport for kids? That's pretty f#@%ed up! There's no better way to terrify children about flying than to tell them a story about a plane bombing!
But when I picked up the book, I saw that it wasn't a movie adaptation of Airport after all. Instead it's a book to tell kids what happens when you go on a plane trip... standing in line for tickets... boarding the plane... how to buckle your seatbelt... and all that stuff. I thought that was a pretty cool way to prepare a child for their first airplane ride.
It was cute and everything, but I think that it was pretty sanitized. There's a lot of stuff that was left out, and it got me to thinking that perhaps I should write my own children's book about the reality of air travel...
A pity that I'm already half-way through illustrating my first children's book, because this is a kick-ass idea. Oh well, on the bright side I've already got an idea for my second book.
Sigh. I wish there were books like this when I was a kid.
I hate to sound like a broken record, but mobile phone idiocy is getting completely out of hand.
There was a time when people at least tried to be discreet and polite when talking on their mobile, but most of them just don't give a crap now-a-days. These idiots talk at FULL VOLUME while discussing stuff nobody wants to hear. Even worse, they seem to have absolutely no qualms about screaming profanity or discussing intimate details of their life. It's as if they think nobody around them can hear what they're saying, and I don't know why that is.
Today I was treated to some moron laughing it up while screaching "SHIT YEAH!" over and over again as he yelled into his Bluetooth headset... WHILE STANDING IN LINE FOR LUNCH... WITH CHILDREN PRESENT!
It's times like this that I wish I carried a baseball bat with me at all times...
Why? Why? Why would somebody act like this? And I'm not talking about me smashing somebody in the face with a baseball bat... I know why I would act like this. I'm asking why somebody thinks it's okay to scream profanity in a public place just because they're talking on their phone. Why does having a phone stuck in your ear suddenly make this okay? If the phone wasn't there it wouldn't be okay... would it?
Maybe from now on when I see such a serious breach of etiquette, I'll commit a breach of etiquette of my own.
Like farting in their face or something...
Sure it's smelly, but it's a lot more convenient than carrying a baseball bat around all day.
I don't know what happened.
Last night when I went to bed, everything was okay. It had been a good weekend. All the various problems that had been thrown my way during the week had been handled. I was... dare I say it... "happy" with the world and my place in it. None of the dread that usually overwhelms me on Sunday nights could be detected. When my head hit the pillow, a rare sense of optimism had settled into the core of my being and all was right in my world.
Then I woke up.
I am used to everything going wrong on a Monday and having to dig my way out. I can handle that. But I quickly found out this morning that "everything" is a relative term, and there is a certain level of "everything" that simply cannot be dealt with. Overwhelmed with one horrific dilemma after another, I was assaulted on all fronts. My telephone. My mobile phone. My work phone. My email. My mailbox. My car. My work. My life.
The entire universe decided to rain shit down on me for some unknown reason.
I don't know what I did to deserve it. I can only guess that this is some kind of retribution for going to bed happy on a Sunday night.
It's at times like this that I feel the need to develop a line of T-shirts to explain my life in a way that can be easily understood. Since I'm fairly certain I'm not alone in being shitted on at one time or another, I can only guess that this is my ticket to making a million dollars. My advertising campaign would feature myself wearing T-shirts with various slogans while standing in a pool of some kind of unsavory substance... like urine or raw sewage or toxic waste or something...
Things can, of course, always get worse. It's as if the laws of physics demand it. There's probably some Einsteinian theorem floating around describing how once you start sliding in shit, you will continue to slide in shit until you land in a big pile of it.
The question then remains... is today my "pile" or am I still sliding towards it?
It would seem that I'm not quite finished with being karma's bitch yet, because the horror show that is my life lately continues. I just got off the phone with somebody I don't even know who has apparently made it their mission in life to irritate me as much as possible. This leads me to wonder... since dumbasses like this seem to serve no useful purpose, shouldn't Darwinian evolutionary theory dictate that they should be become extinct? And, if you don't believe in Darwin, and instead believe in some kind of divine architect, isn't the creation of dumbasses a waste of materials?
No matter what your belief structure, the existence of dumbasses simply makes no sense. Yet they're everywhere and their numbers are growing. Even worse, they're getting even more stupid. It's getting so bad that I'm almost thinking that I need to release one of my Dumbass Books so that those idiots who aspire to be a dumbass have a place to start...
As an example, since complex thoughts like "drive right - pass left" are simply too difficult for a prospective dumbass to grasp, I'd fill the book with handy flowcharts to explain the process...
Such a chart, naturally, would be preceded with 40 illustrated pages explaining what a "passing lane" is, because I understand how some dumbasses might get confused about such things if they are driving down a one-lane road or, heaven forbid, they try to look for a passing lane at a McDonalds drive-through or while parked or something. Dumbass books work because they assume nothing.
In an valiant struggle to cling to anything good that might be happening in my life, I was very happy to get a thank-you letter from a soldier who got one of my care packages for AnySoldier.com. I never expect this (let's face it, they've got a lot more important things on their mind), but it's always a real treat when it happens...
Yeah. I don't care how bad of a day your having, getting something like this in the mail is an amazing experience. I think I must have read through it a dozen times, because it has such a wonderful way of putting things in perspective. Sure my life may be shit, but this guy is stuck in the middle of Baghdad feeling lucky just to live another day. It's not like anything I've got going on can really compare to that.
As the end of the month approaches, I've already got most of the items for my next round of care packages to send. If you are able to help out, here's all you need to know.
And who knows what tomorrow will bring...
After two days of life beating the crap out of me, today there was finally daylight... both figuratively and literally (so THAT'S what the sun looks like!).
The good news is that I no longer want to microwave my head. The bad news is that the events of the past two days will take weeks... perhaps months... to resolve. I'm a fairly private person, so I won't be going into details, but suffice to say that absolutely everything that could possibly go wrong in all aspects of my life decided to happen over the course of 48 hours. It was like experiencing TWO seasons of "24" but without the benefit of having Jack Bauer around to kick some ass. Just a lot of things around me going terribly wrong and shit exploding every fifteen minutes.
One thing I will say is that I have come to really, really hate my car.
If I was any sort of wealthy, I would crash my car into a gas station so it would become soaked with gasoline, toss a lighted match on top so I could watch it burn, then throw a massive party where everybody could hold hands and sing songs while urinating on the smoldering remains. Once the auto was thoroughly destroyed, we'd watch Elizabeth Hurley's masterpiece Bedazzled on a big-screen TV and eat chocolate cake...
Amazing-looking chocolate cake recipe can be found at Southern Living Magazine.
Because it's not really a celebration unless there's chocolate cake at the end.
In other news, "massive penis" has entered my top-ten search referrals for 2007 despite the fact that it appeared only 12 days ago in my blog. Helpful hint for blog traffic whores: nothing will service your needs better than a massive penis. This does present a dilemma, however, because I don't know what the female equivalent should be. I would hate for it to appear that my blog is sexist, and want to be sure that filthy Google Search Results at Blogography aren't gender-biased. I'm leaning towards "tasty vagina" but think it might be difficult to work that into a popular blog entry without supplemental video of some kind.
Not that I'm unwilling to try, mind you.
Continuing on with TequilaCon Week here at Blogography...
Dateline: This past Friday.
"Dude! Three hundred!" is screamed at me as I answer my phone. "THREE-HUNDREHHHHHD!!" Thinking that Robert is playing some kind of Price is Right bidding game with me, I shout back "THREE TWENTY-FIVE!"
"Dude. No, dude. 300 opens this weekend." He is, of course, referring to the bad-ass Frank Miller comic book turned kick-ass movie, which I had completely forgotten about for some reason. It's about 300 Spartans running around half-naked trying to battle an entire army of Persians against overwhelming odds...
"It's TequilaCon this weekend!" says me. "I'm leaving for the airport in a couple of hours."
"Dude, you were serious about that?" Robert says in disbelief.
"Well, yes I was serious about that. What did you think?" (whenever I don't understand what Robert is talking about, I find it helpful to ask point-blank... this seems to save a lot of wasted time and embarrassment).
"You had blogged about astrally projecting yourself or something, so I thought this was just one of those imaginary things..." His voice is kind of trailing off now. He's already mentally running through a list of other people he can call to watch the movie with him. But he must have came up empty, because the next thing I hear is this...
"But what if everybody who shows up at the tequila thing is a douchebag?"
"They're not douchebags! I know these people." I say.
"No you don't. You just read what they tell you. You don't really know them at all."
And there it is.
With the exception of Jenny, I truly don't know who any of these people are. I'm not worried, of course, I have met plenty of other bloggers and always end up having a great time. Sure there might be a few people who get drunk and try to spread peanut butter on my ass (or something equally bizarre), but past experience has taught me that most people who show up at blogger functions are genuinely good people who just want to meet other bloggers.
"There's always a douchebag that shows up. Maybe you'll get lucky and the only douchebag is you." Robert says laughing, just before the line goes dead.
Now that TequilaCon 2007 is over, I'm relieved to say that I did not run into any douchebags. If Robert's theory is correct, this means it was me after all. Sorry everybody!
Oh look, it's my birthday today.
This year I give myself the gift of a day off from writing in my blog...
It would be hard to top last year anyway.
I'm running out of ways to say "kiss my ass."
And it's a darn shame too, because there are some people I know right now who are in desperate need of a nice "kiss my ass" shout-out. But I've found that there's only so many times you can say that in a day without starting to sound like you are, in fact, wanting some lip-action on your posterior. In some cases, this may be true. But, in general, most of the people I'm telling to kiss my ass I don't really want anywhere near my butt.
In lieu of a good "kiss my ass" replacement, I suppose I could just skip the verbal assault and go around bitch-slapping the idiots...
Alas, physical assault is frowned upon by the police, and I'd imagine that there's only so many times you could go around bitch-slapping people before you're being hauled in for your mugshot...
And since the idea of somebody arresting me while I'm eating my Cheesy Fiesta Potatoes is not cool, restraining myself seems to be a good idea. No matter how much the moron deserves it.
Eh. Maybe I'll just start telling people to "bite me" instead.
I've recently started re-reading the Tarzan novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs.
Despite being a hardcore ERB fan, I avoided the Tarzan books for years because I assumed they were as crappy as the movies. I loathed the way Tarzan ran around grunting like a moron in the films, and always thought that's just the way he was. But the "real" Tarzan in the books wasn't stupid at all. It turns out he's a genius who speaks a dozen languages, runs a financial empire, AND happens to be Lord of the Jungle...
After a while, the books get a little repetitive, but the earlier stories are brilliant.
Right now I'm trying to finish up Book #4, The Son of Tarzan, so I am going to stop blogging now...
As I was walking to my car this morning, I very nearly stepped in a pile of dog shit. The close call was made even more strange when I got to my car and saw that a dog was across the parking lot staring at me. I can only guess that he was the perpetrator, and was undoubtedly disappointed that I hadn't stepped into his trap. If he had a video camera, I'd say it's like an episode of "Doggy Punk'd" or something. More likely that he was just bored, and this is what he does for laughs.
Except now he knows what car I drive, so I can only imagine where he will choose to take a crap next. If I find a steaming pile on the hood of my car tomorrow, I'm going to hunt down that dog and shove it back up his ass. Who will be laughing then?
And speaking of putting shit back in the dog...
I just saw the single worst movie ever: National Lampoon's Gold Diggers, and am trying to figure out why in the hell National Lampoon would put their name on such a bad, BAD film. The terrible story and acting would have been forgivable... except IT WASN'T FUNNY!! And isn't that what National Lampoon is all about? Rotten Tomatoes has listed an aggregated review score of 0%, AND lists it as #7 on the "100 Worst-Reviewed Films of All Time," so why in the heck would they ever release it on DVD? Far better to lock this piece of shit in a vault and drop it to the bottom of the ocean than to tarnish the National Lampoon name! They may not be as respected now as in their Animal House days, but there's no reason to flush their reputation down the toilet entirely...
You know a film is bad when it features ultra-hot Nikki Ziering topless, and I still can't find anything good to say about it.
I have yet to figure out why I am chronically unlucky when it comes to driving karma.
You can bet your ass that if there is a dumbass on the road, he'll be in my immediate vicinity. If there is a traffic accident, it will happen right in front of me. If there is road construction closing down a lane, I'll be the one they make stop and wait. If a 90-year-old woman is out for a Sunday drive, I'll be the one stuck behind her. When it comes to being delayed, interrupted, stopped, or cut-off, I'm the guy who is going to be selected by the driving gods to get shafted.
And it's always when I'm in a hurry.
Today I had to run home really quick before I left for the movies. Naturally, a train decided to pass right as I got to the crossing...
Once I finally got past the crossing, a fruit truck going 15 miles under the speed limit pulls out in front of me...
After I got home, dropped my stuff, and finally made it out to the highway, a State Patrol car decided to pull out as well, which meant speeding to the theater to make up for lost time wasn't an option (forgive me for not including a photo, but something tells me that the State Patrol frowns upon taking photos from a moving car going 60mph on the highway... especially when it's the driver doing the photography).
But somehow I made it to the movie on time, which is where I got to watch the greatest film released in recent memory, BLADES OF GLORY!
Forget 300, Last King of Scotland, The Queen, Zodiac, Blood Diamond, and even Ghost Rider, THIS is the movie which will stand the test of time! I'd put it right up there with The Godfather and The Terminator in terms of greatness!
Okay, maybe not. But it was a lot of fun, and much better than I expected...
I just can't figure out why nobody has thought of building a comedy around double-men pairs skating before. It's a brilliant concept. Will Ferrell, Jon Heder, Amy Poehler, Will Arnett, and Craig T. Nelson were all perfectly cast in their roles... but I'd have to say that it's Jenna Fischer who will end up with an Oscar nomination out of this film. She has a lingerie scene which will have people completely forgetting her mousy "Pam" character from The Office. Who knew?
Bring on Spider-Man 3.
Make a joyful noise for Bullet Sunday has risen!
• Easter... I gave up celebrating Easter around the same time I gave up being Catholic (almost 20 years ago now!) but still love the holiday for one very good reason: the candy. I absolutely love Easter candy. From having my teeth shiver as I bite into the sweetness that is a Cadbury Chocolate Cream Egg... to getting some of my favorite candies in egg shapes and pastel colors... Easter is a candy-lover's dream come true. In many ways, I'm thinking it even eclipses Halloween in terms of confectionary importance to me now...
Nothing wrong with getting a little tail on Easter.
Which is probably why I'm choosing to celebrate the holiday by lapsing into a chocolate coma.
• Voicemail... ABC Television has an amazing new video player on their site which, get this, IS MACINTOSH COMPATIBLE!! As if that weren't cool enough, you can watch full episodes of sweet ABC shows like Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy. But here's the best thing... they have an original online series called Voicemail that's priceless...
Mike is a character that just about any guy can relate to at some point in their lives.
For best effect, you'll want to go to ABC.com and choose their New Video Player. But you can also access the webisodes in the old Flash player format from the Voicemail web site (which is also funny). This is one of those rare online series that is actually worth your valuable time. I hope they sell the episodes at iTunes after the first "season" is over, because I would gladly pay money to have this show saved on iTunes for a rainy day when I need a laugh.
Of course, this being ABC, they will undoubtedly cancel it half-way through the current season and we'll never see it again. It's what they do.
• Three... There is no bullet point three. Move along.
• Flash!... Ever since seeing Blades of Glory, I've had Queen's brilliant Flash Gordon Theme playing in my head. Depiste the poor reviews, I always liked the 1980 Flash Gordon film... largely due to the funky visuals, excellent film score by Queen, and the sweet hotness of Melody Anderson. I bought the soundtrack album long ago on vinyl (long since lost) but lucky for me it's available at the iTunes Music store. Sweet! I also note that one of my favorite videos, Radio Ga Ga, is also available. The song has never been one of my favorites, but the epic dream-like quality of the video is a winner...
Freddie looking fierce, fabulous, and very gay wearing leather pants, feathers, and a sash.
• Extracurricular... Why is it that every time I turn around, there's another teacher being busted for sleeping with their under-aged students? And, even more importantly, why wasn't this part of the educational curriculum when I was in school? Granted, there were very few of my teachers I would have wanted to sleep with, but I can think of one or two that I'd have gladly let tutor me in some after-school sessions. Just think of the embarrassment that could have been avoided in fumbling to remove that first bra had a teacher been kind enough to show me how it's done! That being said, you would think that the penalty for violating the trust of parents who put their kids in a teacher's care like this would be death. Of course, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea that somebody finds underage girls and boys to be sexually attractive, so maybe I'm just biased.
And, on that note, I must now have jellybeans. JELLYBEANS I SAY!!
F#@%ING VERIZON DSL PIECE OF SHIT!
For the third time in two weeks, my DSL is down and, as if that wasn't frustrating enough, calling Verizon tech support results in a recording that directs you to their website before you get to any menus. IF YOU ARE CALLING FOR SUPPORT BECAUSE YOUR INTERNET IS DOWN, HOW IN THE F#@% ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO GET TO THEIR WEBSITE?!? Who is the genius who came up with this logic? Once I do finally get through, another recording tells me that Verizon is aware of the problems in the 509 area code, and it should be resolved in 24 hours.
TWENTY-FOUR F#@%ING HOURS? WTF?!?
Yesterday as I was writing my daily blog entry, it was announced that sublime novelist Kurt Vonnegut had died. As a huge fan of his work, I was sad to hear this. I've learned so much from his writing, and had thought it would be swell to write a nice long entry about him. I started a few times, but couldn't find the words to adequately express how much he meant to me. In the end, I kept coming back to a quote of his that just about says it all...
"I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center".
So it goes... rest in peace Kurt Vonnegut. Time for me to read Slaughterhouse-Five again.
And speaking of utter brilliance, I ran across this "Interview Me" meme on Avitable's blog. Unfortunately, I don't have time to interview anybody, and had to pass on the fun. But Avi, bless his heart, was nice enough to send me his five interview questions anyway...
Excellent questions Mr Avitable! I'm breaking the rules by not inviting people to be interviewed by me, but you can go get in line behind the
And tomorrow, I'm back to Seattle. But first I'm off to work so I can post this entry.
UPDATE: Well that's odd. Just as I was getting ready to head out, the internet came back on. Bizarre.
It's the time of year when little critters that belong outside start waking up and finding their way inside.
As I was unpacking my suitcase I noticed a small spider skittering away. I felt bad for the little guy, as he was obviously quite lost and, if he hitched a ride from Seattle, far from home. Yet, as sorry as I was feeling, I was not quite ready to have him as a roommate. The quick and easy solution to my problem was to grab something heavy and smash him. But that always seems so senseless and cruel. It's not like he knows any better, and it hardly seems fair to kill him because he isn't aware he's trespassing...
So I do what I always do... try to take him back outside.
But first I had to find him. This involved ten minutes of tearing apart my bedroom and chasing the fastest spider on earth. But eventually I managed to catch him under a glass and slide a card beneath. Once caught, he didn't put up much of a struggle, and sat there motionless on the card awaiting his fate.
Which was to be put on a nice shrub just outside the building where, hopefully, he'll be happy.
In a world where it is increasingly more common to kill a life than save it... where it's far easier to destroy something than to create it... it's the little things like this that help me feel better about my place in the grand scheme of things.
Even though a bird probably flew in and ate my spider two minutes after I set him outside.
I prefer to think that he spun up a nice web and is even now picking out wallpaper and curtains for his new home.
Well take a look at what we have here... it's my four-year blogiversary!
And if you had told me back at the beginning that I'd still be writing in Blogography... daily, no less... four years hence, I'd have thought you were insane (and then probably killed you because that kind of crazy just shouldn't be wandering the streets). After all, I had two failed blogs under my belt from the previous three years, and there was no indication that Blogography was going to be any different. The only change was that if Blogography didn't work out, it was going to be three strikes and I was done.
But here I am, still writing my daily dose of incomprehensible crap.
Year One was a mess, filled mostly with memes and boring stuff that I should have deleted long ago. Year Two was when I finally got my shit together and my blog was everything I wanted it to be... "the golden years," if you will. Year Three was the hardest, with too many bumps in the road and crazy crap that had me contemplating shutting Blogography down. And here we are at Year Four, and the blogging habit is such a big part of my life that I can't see an end to it. So it must be time to celebrate...
Yes indeed, this time the shit is very personal, as you will find out during this week-long party that has been five months in the making. Just like previous years, there will be hundreds of dollars worth of prizes to win and good times along the way, but there are going to be some changes as well...
The schedule of events looks something like this...
Oh yeah. You might want to tune in every day, because it will undoubtedly be worth your while. :-)
UPDATE: THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED! NO ADDITIONAL ENTRIES ARE BEING ACCEPTED!
Every year I release a new T-shirt to celebrate my blogiversary. First there was the classic Blogography Logo T, then came the Bad Monkey T, and lastly was the infamous Zombies Ate My Brain T (chosen by YOU, my loyal Blogography readers in last year's contest). Well, this year I came up with 32 different design ideas, and couldn't make up my mind which one to print. So I went to dinner with a group of friends, and we managed to narrow it down to a mere 7.
Since everybody did such a great job of picking a design last year, I'm going to put it up for a vote again this year.
And, to make it worth your while, everybody who votes will be getting a coupon for $10 OFF any Artificial Duck Co. Store T-Shirt purchase!
That means you can pick up a classic white shirt for just $5 (+ shipping)... or one of the new color shirts for just $7 (+shipping)*. And these ain't no crappy iron-on designs... no way! Each shirt is custom silk-screened on premium quality 100% cotton shirts for the ultimate in comfort and durability!
And, just because I love you, FIVE VOTERS will be put in a drawing to get a shirt ABSOLUTELY FREE... all you pay is the shipping charges!
It's almost too good to be true! So how do you vote? It's easy!
And here's this year's choices... you're voting for the TWO designs you like best...
VOTE: Bad Monkey (on yellow)
VOTE: Dave Pope (on teal)
VOTE: Toxic Yawn (on green)
VOTE: Smoking Monkeys (on blue)
VOTE: Try Evil (on black)
VOTE: Little Geeky (on olive)
VOTE: Blogography (on slate)
Please be sure to follow the rules listed above to vote, and may the best design win!
10 BLOGOGRAPHY MOMENTS IN HISTORY, YEAR ONE: 04/03-03/04
Dave writes his very first snarky rant about 6 extra grams of fat on some daft bitch's lazy ass.
Dave first declares his love for Elizabeth Hurley.
Dave writes his first travel-blog on a trip to Iceland and Stockholm.
Dave rips apart a totally incompetent review of Kill Bill by James Berardinelli at "ReelViews."
Dave writes about a trip to New Orleans, pre-Katrina... one of his favorite cities.
Dave draws his very first DaveToon, featuring the first appearance of Bad Monkey on Blogography.
Dave writes that infamous entry about hating clowns which spawns his first hate-mail avalanche.
Dave writes about lame internet quizzes, and then makes up his own lame internet quiz ideas.
Dave finally writes about something personal, which turns out to be a fairly rare event.
Dave draws a DaveToon about brushing his teeth, which is still one of Blogography most popular links.
*PLEASE NOTE: Shirts will be printed in early June once all the pre-orders have been taken through the month of May. The prices listed above are for sizes S-XL. Larger sizes are available for an extra charge: 2XL is $1.00 extra, 3XL is $2.00 extra. Sizes bigger than 2X are not available in colors, but I'll be happy to print any design on a white shirt: 4XL is $3.00 extra, 5XL is $4.00 extra, 6XL is $5.00 extra.
UPDATE: THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED! NO ADDITIONAL ENTRIES ARE BEING ACCEPTED!
As I mentioned yesterday, votes for the second shirt design to be printed are really, really close (and if you haven't voted yet, you can still get your choices sent in by clicking here). With no clear victory for second place, I've decided to change this last day of prize drawings, and put the money into more shirt prizes. That way, I can get the order quantities high enough that I can print and extra design or two.
So, in addition to the 5 FREE shirts I have for the T-shirt vote drawing, I'm adding another 25 FREE shirts for everybody who enters today's contest (all you have to do is pay the shipping costs!). That's 30 freebies total being given away for
That's like uhhhhhh... $510 in shirts or something. This brings the total prizes for this year's blogiversary to over $1000, which is pretty sweet!
AND NOW FOR THE RULES...
Okay then, if you didn't leave 10 comments in the past year, this time you have to answer ALL SEVEN of the questions below, and be sure to include the answers in your email entry to CONTEST EXPIRED! All the answers can be found in the Blogography History links listed below or by using the "Search Box" in my sidebar...
Remember, the entry deadline is TOMORROW at 9:00pm P.S.T. (Seattle time)! Good luck!
10 BLOGOGRAPHY MOMENTS IN HISTORY, YEAR FOUR: 04/06-03/07
Dave discovers that PayPal sucks total ass because they stole his f#@%ing money!
Dave reviews the most magical breakfast food ever: Hello Kitty Pop-Tarts!
Dave creates his now-infamous alternatives for a hospital's lame "Pain Chart".
Dave decides to write a line of books for dumbasses.
Dave reveals his cross-dressing past.
Dave decides to build a monument to his greatness.
Dave has a dream.
Dave writes that entry about bluetooth headsets that gets him a lot of hate-mail.
Dave meets bloggers Eve and Dave3, then gets a shocking surprise on the streets of New York City.
Dave finds out that the gays have invaded Chicago.
I'm not one to think about death very often. I don't fear it, I don't dread it, I don't get upset over it. I've done quite a lot during my lifetime, and if I were to die tomorrow I would be okay with that. I'm not saying I want to die but, if it happens, that's fine by me... no regrets and all that. Usually the only time I'm bothered by death is when somebody I know dies. My own death is no bother at all.
But ever since I opened the Artificial Duck Co. store, I'm starting to think about it. I've charged people money for pre-ordered merchandise which is 4-6 weeks away. What happens if I drop dead before I can ship it to them? What if I'm on a plane that goes down? What if I get run over on the street by somebody talking on their mobile phone instead of watching the road?
For the first time in a very long time, I've been thinking about dying. Who will take care of Herbert (my plant) when I'm gone?
With apologies to Neil Gaiman...
And so now I've started to plan for my demise.
I've asked somebody to take care of Herbert. I've left detailed instructions on how to refund the money to everybody who has placed an order at my store. I've made sure my insurance policy is current. I've backed up my hard drive.
(Not that backing up my hard drive is important when I'm dead... but if it were to die while I was alive, I'd probably be more upset than if I myself were to die).
Bleh. It's raining this morning. The sound of it on my roof was enough to wake me up at 4:00am. It's not the worst way to wake up... except I didn't get to bed until 1:30am. Something tells me 2-1/2 hours of sleep isn't going to cut it.
Maybe I'll die from exhaustion.
But that's okay... I'm covered for that.
In what has become a kind of annual Memorial Day tradition for me, I made comprehensive backups of all my computers today. Even though I regularly back-up my data, it's always nice to start over again fresh. The down-side of starting fresh is that I've accumulated quite a pile of external hard drives over the years... nine, to be exact. When I started, all my data would easily fit on a 60gig drive. This time it took two 500gig drives. Surprisingly, my excessive storage needs are not due to porn.
My problem is that I just can't throw anything away.
I have files dating back to the late 80's... text files... Usenet posts... old drawings... even a few photos from the very beginning of digital photography (at a stunning 320 x 240 pixels!). All of it's crap, of course, but it's sentimental crap from the early days of computing and I just can't bear to get rid of it. I'm crazy sentimental that way.
But I guess if there's a day to feel all sentimental, it would be Memorial Day.
As I was backing up my DaveToons folder, I ran across one that I drew up, but never used...
Probably because I thought it was too subtle or something.
From working all weekend, I'm about half-way caught up with the work that piled up while I was on vacation. Go me.
This is a pre-recorded episode of Blogography from Thursday, May 31.
I'm pretending it's Sunday so I can whip out some bullets that will post when the most magical day of the week appears!
• Health Food... Why is it every time I find a new food I like that I have to go looking at the Nutrition Facts, only to find out that eating it will kill me? The Schwan's Man had a brand new item called "Grilled Cheese Toastwiches," which have all the deliciousness of a grilled cheese sandwich, but without the back-breaking labor of having to put cheese between slices of bread and heating it up. Nope, with Grilled Cheese Toastwiches, you just pop them in the toaster! Sweet! At least they were, until I found out each piece has 25% of the daily amount of saturated fat you should eat in a day. This sucks ass! Especially since I've already had three pieces today. I guess that means I am 75% closer to death.
• Kaleidoscope Toons... Posting yet another couple of frames showing progress with my DaveToon video. This is another scene I worked on while I was on vacation. Much of the video has lots of animated elements, so I was trying to come up with some simpler scenes to break things up a bit. Believe it or not, these always end up taking far more time to animate than the ones with far more going on. I have no idea why...
In the final video, I had planned for the kaleidoscope background to have some kind of filter applied to it... possibly one that makes it look more "dreamy." But the more I look at the scene in motion, the more I question a need for a filter, because the bright colors are a nice contrast to the black suits. =Sigh= I can see that completing the animation for this project is going to be just the beginning...
• World Round... As I was updating my travel map to reflect my recent vacation, I noticed that my trip to Egypt means I can check another continent off my list. Granted, it's not a lot of Africa to have seen, but it still counts! That leaves just three continents left to see: South America, Australia, and... ANTARCTICA?!? South America and Australia will almost certainly happen one day, but Antarctica? Doing a little research, I find that it's not as difficult as I had first thought to visit, because there are tour ships that go there. All it takes is money. Lots of money. The good news is that it would be an automatic two-for-one trip, because all the tours leave from South America. The bad news is that the cost is also two-for-one... first you've got to spend the money to get to Cape Horn, then you've got the cost of the ship tour on top of it. Does anybody have around $15,000 burning a hole in their pocket to finance my Antarctic adventure?
• Members Project... American Express has unveiled "The Members Project," which is a program whereas cardholders can submit ideas for a prize up to five million dollars so they can make a positive impact on the world. It's actually a pretty cool idea, and they lined up some all-star talent to advertise it in a commercial. You get Martin Scorsese directing, who also appear in the spot along with Andre Agassi, Sheryl Crow, Ellen DeGeneres, Alicia Keys, and skateboarder Shaun White. The odd part is that the commercial is interrupted by a guy from "the office next door" who is named "Tim." This is the same guy that does the video introduction at the Members Project website...
"People fought wars just so we could eat pizza on the wrong night!" —Norris Michelsky
But here's the thing... "Tim" isn't just some random guy. I'm pretty sure it's actor David Alan Basche, who has been in a number of television and movie projects, including one of my favorite shows ever, Oh Grow Up! In many ways, this makes him a bigger star to me than any of the "big-name" stars in the commercial, which is why it cracked me up when I saw it. I also get mad that Oh Grow Up! hasn't been released on DVD, but that's beside the point.
• Cattlecar Galaxica... I was very disappointed to learn that, in addition to Veronica Mars being canceled, Battlestar Galactica is ending after the upcoming fourth season. If there's one piece of good news about it, the decision to end the show came directly from the producers. They saw that the story was heading to an ending, and decided to take it there rather than draw things out until nobody cared anymore. I sure hope that some decent shows arrive for the new Fall TV season... because if this keeps up, there won't be anything on for me to watch.
Well that wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be... I should pretend it's Sunday every day!
This is a pre-recorded episode of Blogography from Thursday, May 31.
Not only do I have to pretend it's Monday, but I also have to pretend to write in somebody else's blog! Assuming that everything went as planned and I found somebody to post my entry, I'm filling in over at Kapgar today. But be forewarned, I used this as a shameless opportunity to draw up some DaveToons that I've never been brave enough to post in my own blog. Somehow it doesn't bother me to sink to new levels of tastelessness and debauchery on somebody else's blog though. I'm such a cheeky bastard.
Click here to read it... if you dare.
OMG! I TOTALLY FORGOT HOW TO BLOG!!
But if that doesn't frighten you away, I ramble on for quite a bit in an extended entry...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
Everybody just loves Bad Monkey.
I had to go to the grocery store for a few things today, and was wearing my new Bad Monkey T-shirt for the trip. While I was in the cheese aisle, a little boy who was helping his mother pick out yogurt turned to me and started laughing. "Monkey!" he said, pointing at my shirt. "That's right," I replied. Then there's that awkward moment when I have to explain to his mother that the shirt can't be bought at a store, that it is one of my own creations, and isn't available in kids sizes. I just don't have room to store them.
And now I feel bad, because what kid wouldn't want a Bad Monkey T-shirt?
After cheese, I had to go buy sugar. I used the last of mine when I got a craving for Tropical Punch Kool-Aid last night around midnight. In retrospect, it was kind of a stupid thing to drink before bed, because I ended up battling a bad case of heartburn while trying to get some sleep...
Right now I am taking a break from filling Artificial Duck Co. orders to write in my blog. From the looks of things, I only have 38 orders left to fill. Tomorrow I'll process the postage so I can send the last remaining packages on Monday, and that's that. I'll finally be able to reclaim my living room.
And stop hurting myself.
I finally injured myself with my new tagging gun yesterday. It felt very much like having stabbed myself with a large needle. Mostly because my tagging gun has a very large needle on it. Lesson Learned: If you are going to sell T-shirts and want to label them, use stickers instead of tags.
Back to work...
Last night before I went to bed, three bloggers I read announced they were quitting. I wonder if there's a virus going around or something?
After reading such upsetting and tragic news, my mind turned to Jesus.
This was a strange experience for me, because I'm not a Christian. But I am a hardcore art lover, and Jesus has served as an inspiration for a lot of really good art throughout history. His story, while inspiring to those whose faith is built upon it, has always seemed quite sad to me... the poor guy was given a destiny to die horribly for the sins of the world, and that cannot be an easy burden, even for the son of God. But, like it or not, Jesus accepted what he had to do, and believed his sacrifice was the entire purpose for his being.
The one I really feel sorry for in this story is Mary.
She may have been the vessel for Christianity's savior but, when you set that aside, what she really was is a mother.
A mother who loved her son very much, only to have to watch as he was tortured and killed. I don't care how deep your faith is, this is something that no mother should have to experience. And yet I am reminded of it over and over again as I traverse art galleries around the globe. For the most part, the bulk of this art is divided between the two most significant events in any life... birth and death.
First there's all those images of Madonna and Child. Jesus has just been born and Mary is always depicted cherishing him, just as any mother would feel toward their new baby...
And then there's the pietà, which shows a grief-struck Mary cradling her dead son. I don't care whether you are a Christian or not, this is a powerful and painful image. And no interpretation of this event is more heartbreaking that Michelangelo's masterpiece, La Pietà, which is housed at The Vatican's St. Peter's Basilica...
It's difficult to get from a photo, but the sadness carved into Mary's face is enough to bring a lump to your throat and make your heart ache for her. What could be more tragic?
Certainly not somebody shutting down their blog, but that does make me kind of sad too.
All this talk about Jesus has reminded me of a drawing I created last year for a digital Christmas card that I sent to some of my art friends, but never dared show on my blog... until now...
I always worried that people would see this and think "OH MY GAWD! DAVE THINKS HE'S JESUS!!!" But that was never the intent. I just used Baby Dave to make this interpretation of Madonna and Child my own. As the above text hopefully illustrates, I have the upmost respect for Jesus, Mary, and their story... and this drawing is meant to be an homage, not ridicule. I put a lot of care into creating it, and it's easily one of my favorite DaveToons ever. I'm probably inviting all kinds of hatemail by showing it, but it seems a shame not to share when it means so much to me.
Unlike most interpretations, where Jesus is somber and stoic, I wanted my Madonna and Child to depict baby Jesus as happy and joyful as possible. This was not easy given how crude the drawing is, but I tried my best because I like to think that Jesus was a happy baby. Given his ultimate sacrifice, it would be nice to think that he had a happy childhood... wouldn't it?
Hmmm. I am tired enough that I may actually get a good night's sleep tonight.
I've been desperately trying to get caught up with the massive pile of work that accumulated while I was away last week. This involves me working from the minute I get up every morning until a pass out from exhaustion every night. Ordinarily, such unending torture would be bad enough... but this morning things became further complicated when I awoke with "severe intestinal distress." A disappointing development to be sure, but I've got pills to fix such horrors.
Except the pills didn't work.
At least not completely.
Which meant on top of my huge load of work, there was another potential huge load to worry about all day...
I'm afraid to speculate as to what might happen next. Am I going to wake up tomorrow and start projectile vomiting? I'm sure if it's contagious and will make my work day even more miserable and unproductive, I'll come down with it.
Bleh. This is the second time I've been inexplicably afflicted this year. I can only guess that my colon is finally starting to stage some kind of rebellion against my love of chocolate pudding.
Is it too much to hope that this is the Norwalk virus, a parasitical infection, or some other kind of non-chocolate-pudding-related ailment?
And so it goes...
Bitch Got Three Spaces
Lyrics and Music by Blogography Gangsta.
Sung by Blogography Gangsta (featuring Snoop Dogg, G-Unit and 50 Cent).
Eatin' out at The Hut,
Getin' my pizza and sticks.
Jonesin' for a frozen custard,
Needin' to get in my licks.
Rollin' over to Culver's,
Dodgin' road construction.
Speedin' down the Sixty,
Wantin' creamy destruction.
Cruisin' through the drive-thru,
Handin' over four-nineteen.
Roundin' the corner with my sundae,
Diggin' the parking lot scene.
Frakin' van parked sideways,
Takin' up three whole spaces.
Talkin' on her cell phone,
Hogin' all the shady places.
You ain't even a customer, bitch!
Gotta be movin' your shit, bitch!
Get the =beep= out my face, bitch!
Else I pop a cap in your ass, bitch!
Because I roll like dat.
Because I smoke em' like dat.
Parkin' in the sunshine,
Soakin' up the heat.
Scarfin' up my custard,
Meltin' on the seat.
Lookin' over at the talker,
Lackin' any kind of class.
Dreamin' of my vengeance,
Beatin' on her cracker ass.
Creepin' past the stupid ho,
Slidin' my hand to my piece.
Raisin' up my mini Canon,
Snappin' the shutter release.
Laughin' my ass off as I pass,
Thankin' digital photography.
Makin' yo inconsiderate ass famous,
Postin' dis shit on Blogography.
You ain't even a customer, bitch!
Gotta be movin' your shit, bitch!
Get the =beep= out my face, bitch!
Else I pop a cap in your ass, bitch!
Because I roll like dat.
Because I smoke em' like dat.
Because I roll like dat.
Because I smoke em' like dat.
— All lyrics copyright ©2007 by Blogography.
And I'm off to Chicago... again. Well, assuming that Horizon Air doesn't cancel my flight. Apparently some of the aircraft in Horizon's fleet have had a safety recall of the landing gear, and they've been canceling hundreds of flights throughout the week to do inspections. I'm told that ended yesterday, but I won't know for sure until I get to the airport. Fun.
For some reason, I had it in my head that I was returning home before my trip to L.A., and it wasn't until I printed my boarding pass that I realized I am flying direct to LAX once my work in Chicago is over. This caused a panic of an entirely new flavor, because I've got a lot of stuff to get ready before my trip to La La Land. Guess I won't be getting any sleep tonight after all.
In other news, I got a lovely comment this morning from some guy who was outraged because I dared "desecrate a classic" with a cartoon parody of Curious George I made last year...
I find this ironic, because I'm about the biggest Curious George fan there is, and have been collecting Curious George books and toys for a very long time now. I guess I shouldn't be surprised... I mean, I've already got Kenny Chesney fans hating on me... and Harry Potter fans hating on me too... but Curious George?!? Seriously? I'd have thought my fellow George fans would have a better sense of humor about these things. He is, after all, a monkey.
Oh well. Back to work. Back to work.
Apple released a really nifty iPhone upgrade last night. One of the coolest new features is being able to buy music directly from your iPhone over wireless networks. It's really easy to use, and iPhone transfers your purchases back to your computer the next time you sync... sweet! They've also made some other improvements, like increasing the speaker volume (which was badly needed) and adding some shortcuts to make using iPhone easier. I love that iPhone can be improved and upgraded like this, and can't wait to see what Apple comes up with next!
In celebration of iPhone's new upgrade, I'm releasing some of the wallpapers I've been using on my own iPhone. A few people have been asking about them for a while now, and so I've put them in an extended entry (scroll to the bottom and click "continue reading"). As if there wasn't already enough reasons to own an iPhone, here are twelve more...
But before we get to the wallpapers... here is a wrap-up of the new shows I've seen for this new season, ranked from best to worst...
And now for iPhone wallpapers...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
Saturdays are usually spent working, but I've got two week's worth of dirty clothes piling up, so I took the morning off to wash them. Since I was already caught up on my television shows, I turned on the TV to see what might be playing on a Saturday morning. Much to my surprise, the first show to pop up was Strawberry Shortcake and Friends on CBS TV's "Kewlopolis" slate of girl's programming.
Strawberry Shortcake started out in the late 70's as a kind of rag-doll type character which was used to whore greeting cards and wrapping paper and such. Then, in the early 80's, Strawberry Shortcake and her friends were made into a series of creepy dolls that were supposed to smell like strawberries, blueberries, and such... but actually stank like toxic waste. Now Strawberry Shortcake is back, but she's been updated to a smart-n-sassy, no-nonsense kind of girl with her own cartoon show...
This is cool kewl and all, but there's a much-needed member of the Strawberry Shortcake family who's been missing. Until now. I am proud to introduce the berry latest inhabitant of Strawberryland... the Pimp-Daddy of deserts... Bran Muffin!
Bran Muffin is a boy with a heart of gold who helps out the bitches girls of Strawberryland when they need to make some quick cash. Bran lives in a swingin' rent-controlled bachelor pad in Sugartits Tower in the middle of Chocolate Pudding City. When he's not counting his money, Bran likes to spread a little of his sugar around Strawberryland, bringing joy and happiness to everybody he meets! Like most inhabitants of this magical place, Bran Muffin has an animal companion... his pet iguana named Colon Blow.
Sigh. I really should have a job in children's television programming development. I'm so totally suited for it.
I managed to get most of my messed-up schedule repaired today. The worst part about it all is having to call and cancel out on people who were counting on me... and some things I was really looking forward to doing had to be given up. I'm trying to make the best of the situation, but sometimes it's hard to find an up-side.
Except when one of the things you're canceling is helping Bad Robert move his furniture out of storage. There's really no down-side to missing out on dragging heavy objects up two flights of stairs. Well, except Robert promised to buy me Taco Bell if I helped, and I love me the Cheesy Fiesta Potatoes (especially when somebody else is paying for them).
Of course, now that I think about it, my restrictive diet wouldn't allow me to have Cheesy Fiesta Potatoes in the first place! I'd be risking my life moving his furniture with no cheese-covered reward at the end! That hardly seems fair now, does it?
While I was backing up my hard drive this morning, I ran across a project that I had started a while back, but never had time to finish. The idea was to come up with some character "style sheets" for Lil' Dave and Bad Monkey, then hire a professional to create 3-D models of them for me. This is a lot harder than it sounds, because translating a 2-D cartoon into 3-D doesn't always work, and you need to find somebody who has a lot of experience doing it. On top of that, it's quite a challenge for me to visualize the characters having depth... I never put any thought of them existing that way while I was slapping them together years ago...
Ooh! Ooh! Reaper is on TV now! I hope that the lead character doesn't turn into a whiny little bitch like what happened with Chuck last night. Boy does that get old in a hurry.
Today on my way home from work I pull up to a stop light and suddenly realize that I don't have my iPhone with me. After flying into a total panic, I calm down once I realize that all I have to do is call my iPhone and I'll be able to hear where I left it.
But then I go to reach for iPhone to call myself and realize that there is a slight flaw in my plan. It's times like this that I have to seriously wonder if my mental faculties were permanently damaged from all that marijuana I smoked in the 60's...
Except I wasn't born until 1966 and don't smoke pot, so things must be worse than I thought.
Variety has just released the news that the one and only Simon Pegg has signed on to play "Scotty" in J.J. Abram's forthcoming Star Trek film. I didn't think that they could top Zachary Quinto playing "Spock," but this is an absolute genius move. Of course, a terrific cast doesn't guarantee that the movie isn't going to suck ass, but it's certainly looking good so far.
And speaking of good things...
The second episode of Pushing Daisies was absolutely incredible. The show is like a work of art that sucks you into a beautiful, quirky world from which you don't want to escape. I can't think of another show on TV that keeps me smiling from beginning to end like this, and leaves me feeling happy for no reason at all...
Of course, this most certainly means that ABC will cancel it, so I have no idea why I'm getting so attached.
Bastard television networks.
Today I was looking through some old papers in a futile attempt to find an important document I've lost. Never saw it, but I found all kinds of crazy stuff that I didn't even know I kept... my favorite discovery being a photocopy of a cartoon I drew years ago. The Sam & Max video game had finally been released for Macintosh, and I was so happy that I drew my own Sam & Max adventure so that I could attach my personal check to it for payment...
But that's only half as entertaining as my most favorite spam ever...
To: Abby U. Shaver
From: Mia X. Randle
Subject: Does your penis size ruin your life? Our product will stop that!
Have they ever told you this, "Damn it! Your penis is so small!"?
Didn't you just wanna run away?
Don't let women choose sexual toys but not you! Megadik will make you a real man! You must believe in this wonderful preparation!
"Gush! Your penis is impressive!" Isn't that what you just love to hear?
Soon you'll be the only one ladies will want! Megadik is your magic weapon!
The check is in the mail, baby... the check is in the mail...
For the first time in months, I've made it through an entire day without working. Instead I played games with friends, ate pizza, and sat on my ass watching television.
I could totally get used to this.
Alas, it's not to be. Tomorrow morning I head back home and spend all my Sunday working twice as hard so I can catch up from the day I missed. Life is harsh like that.
But, in the meanwhile, I'm planning on getting a good night's sleep. That would be another thing I haven't done in months...
Well, I've done gone and sliced my right-hand index finger reeeeeeal good. Twice. The cuts are pretty deep, and band-aids weren't helping much. I finally used super-glue and strips of gauze to close the cuts, then bandaged everything up with hopes that I wouldn't bleed to death.
So far, so good.
Except my finger hurts a lot. Which makes typing in my blog kind of clutzy and painful.
But drawing isn't so bad, because I can use my middle-finger to mouse-click*...
I am such a weenie when it comes to bleeding.
Which is why I'm going to take a couple of Excedrin PM now so I can forget my pain and get some sleep. If you don't hear from me ever again, it's because the super-glue dissolved and I bled to death in my sleep. Oh well. I suppose there are worse ways to go.
*Even more importantly, I can also still use my middle-finger to flip people off.
Why do some people insist on taking every little situation and blowing it up to massive proportions just so they can create drama in their lives? Do they really crave the attention that much, or are they just so clueless that they actually think people appreciate their stupid crap?
Two weeks ago, I sliced open my finger while putting together some steel shelving. Today I jabbed an X-ACTO knife into my thumb... hard. Surprisingly, there wasn't much blood, but it still hurt a lot. Fate must really have it in for my fingers. And thumbs.
Or maybe I'm just really clumsy.
Though I'm sure there's a much more logical explanation than that...
Not a good day to be a turkey, obviously.
Hanging around a hospital all day can be entertaining... if you work at it.
Fortunately they had free wi-fi internet, which helped, but there was still plenty of time to wander around and come up with stuff to occupy my time. My favorite game? GUESS THAT STAIN!
Surprisingly (or not surprisingly, when you think about it), there are quite a few stains to be found all over the hospital. And every time I see one, I can't help but wonder what might have caused it...
Of course me (being me) always determined that the stains were from a brain leak, or an exploding pancreas, or a spinal tap gone terribly wrong, or some other kind of freaky medical improbability. But I guess that's what makes it fun.
What's definitely not fun is watching a family receive bad news. It happens at hospitals... you would expect it to happen at hospitals... but that doesn't make it any less painful to witness.
Tomorrow is going to be a long, long day. But it has a really good thing happening at the end, so all I have to do is hang on until then and I'll be in good shape.
In the meanwhile, I'm going to sulk and bitch about all the snow.
Well smack my ass and call me Sally.
This morning I woke up at first-light so I could try once again to install a new battery in my car. As I mentioned yesterday, Saturn designed a bracket to hold the battery in place (good) but it has the binding bolts in really stupid places (bad). In order to remove the bracket, you need something like an air-powered flat ratchet for one of the bolts... and a long extension ratchet head for the other one. I, of course, own neither of those things. There's really no need to own those things unless you are an auto mechanic.
So after an hour of getting nowhere, I finally decide to put on a dress, then grab a matching purse and shoes so I can go pay a mechanic to install the battery...
So thanks a fucking load Saturn. Nothing can emasculate a man faster than having to pay another guy to put a battery in his car. Seriously, how fucking difficult would it be to design the shit so that anybody with a pair of pliers and a screwdriver can take care of it? Is that really too much to ask? I mean, I own a good set of manly tools... I even have a Dremel for criminey's sake... shouldn't that be enough to do something as simple as replacing the battery in your car? Yes. Yes it should. Because, when you think about it, the time that most people have to replace their battery is probably a time when they least expect it, and they may not have any tools available. Why not a simple locking pressure clamp with no tools required? Why force guys to have to wear dresses with matching shoes and handbags as they pay a mechanic to deal with this simple shit?
There is no good reason I can think of except that you hire asshole engineers who get sadistic pleasure out of torturing your customers.
I seriously need to go drink a six-pack of beer while watching football and farting as I scratch my balls so I can get some of my manhood back.
Though I should probably change out of this dress first.
Well today totally sucked ass.
Just as I knew it would. I expected it to suck ass. Somehow I thought this foresight would make it easier to live through to the rain of shit that fell all over my life, but I was wrong. So wrong. With every new horror that popped up, I was worn down just a little further. I haven't measured my height or anything, but I must be at least 3 feet shorter than I started out this morning. And my head hurts.
But there was a bright spot when I woke up and saw that USA Today has a sneak peak at the new Speed Racer movie in production. And the photos are incredible. Word is that the Wachowski Brothers are creating a movie unlike anything seen before (not a surprise considering they were also responsible for The Matrix)...
I was a massive fan of the original Speed Racer cartoon when I was a kid (it had a monkey in it!), and am really psyched to see how this film is going to play out. Unfortunately, I have a long five months to wait. In the meanwhile, I guess I'll just go stare at the sneak peak photos again, and play make-believe Speed Racer like I used to...
And then prepare myself for yet another crappy day tomorrow.
UPDATE: The Speed Racer teaser trailer is now online. This is going to be so cool. Look, it's Chim Chim!!
Have a good one... be safe.
Hope everybody had a good New Year's celebration!
I'm hanging out with friends today instead of blogging, so I'll just reprint my favorite DaveToon series of 2007...
And here's hoping for a good ride through 2008...
Now that I'm back in the office, I'm opening up all the lovely holiday business gifts that companies sent to me while I was traveling. They're all pretty great, and some of them are remarkable in their extravagance, but one of the gifts has captured my heart...
A jar of gourmet jellybeans.
I love jellybeans, and having a big jar of them sitting on my desk is a real treat. Even if I end up going into a sugar coma because I am addicted to eating them one after the other.
The problem is that I don't like mixing the flavors, so half of my time is spent picking out the same color beans to eat. It makes me wish that there was somebody you could hire to come organize all your jellybeans and toss out all the flavors you don't like (for me that would be coffee and licorice)...
And now I'm off to wash clothes because there's not a clean pair of underwear left in the house.
Though I suppose there's nothing wrong with going commando on the weekend.
While waiting for my connecting flight into Milwaukee, I was sitting next to some teenage girls who were talking about all the stuff that teenage girls live to talk about. Boys. Shopping. Other girls they hate. The usual. Just as I was getting used to their endless chatting, they went into a giggle fit. Curious to know what was going on, I tuned in to the conversation. From what I could gather, they were all ga ga over an airline captain that had just walked in. Apparently, they thought he looked totally hot in his uniform.
"Pffft!" I thought to myself. Silly girls!!
And then I looked up.
Damn! The bastard DID look totally hot in his uniform!
It was then that I decided I should get me a uniform of my own so I could wear it all the time and be totally hot myself. Well, maybe not ALL the time... but definitely when I travel. And when I go to the grocery store. And when I eat at Taco Bell. And... well, yeah... I would wear it all the time...
While I am quite enamored with the idea of impressing the ladies by being an airplane captain, I worry that one day I might actually have to live up to the uniform. There I'd be... watching the latest episode of The Soup on my iPhone, happily minding my own business, when an airline attendant comes up and taps me on the shoulder...
Hot Attendant: Excuse me, captain?
Captain Dave: Yes. How can I help you, miss?
Hot Attendant: There's been an electrical problem in the cockpit. Our captain and co-captain are dead. We need you to make an emergency landing right away! And then, after we're on the ground, I need you to make love to me because, damn, you look so totally hot in that uniform!
Captain Dave: I see. Let me just wash my hands, and I'll be right there.
At which point I would lock myself in the bathroom and cry while the plane crashed into a mountain.
Maybe I should buy a flying simulation game for my Wii and practice it for a bit before I make myself look hot by dressing up as an airline captain? The cockpit of a commercial airplane looks kind of like my Wii controller, so what could go wrong? I wonder if The Captain from "Captain and Tennille" had to deal with this crap?
In other news, can somebody please explain this to me...
It's a foreign currency exchange booth.
It never actually goes anywhere, so why? Is it in case somebody somehow gets a gun through airport security and decides to rob the Travelex booth? What happens then? Does the person behind the counter just go "SURPRISE SUCKER!!" and drive off, foiling the robbery attempt? And, more importantly, is that thing street-legal? Because the only thing more hot than my wearing an airline captain's uniform would be to wear an airline captain's uniform while driving around in that sweet ride.
Though I'd have to put some bigger tires on it. And maybe some spinner wheels. I wouldn't want to look silly or anything.
I've been blogging long enough to know that there is no telling what is going to set people off. Sometimes I write entries that I think are going to be controversial and unleash a flood of hate mail, and get nothing. Other times I write what I think are charming and uplifting entries, only to get death threats and people telling me how much I suck. It's a crap-shoot, and I gave up a long time ago trying to figure it out.
Yet reader reaction still crosses my mind.
And, while it doesn't ever really influence what I write, it does make me question myself from time to time.
But it's not the same for comments I leave on other people's blogs.
I'm a cheeky bastard, and that apparently gives me free reign to joke around or say crazy crap and then never even consider that there might be consequences. After all, it's not my blog! I wouldn't intentionally comment with stuff that might get another blogger in trouble or anything... but after I write on their blog, I just don't worry about repercussions.
Now I am slowly starting to regret that, and here's just one example of why...
Over a year ago, Pauly wrote a hysterical entry over at his Words for My Enjoyment blog extolling the virtues of adult diapers, from which I'm republishing a small part here (you really should go read the entire thing, because it's dang funny)...
...Wear them all the time, wherever you want, whenever you go out in public. Don’t be afraid of people’s opinions, since everyone will be wearing them. Forget about "holding things in" from this day forward and feel free for once in your life. Make the elderly finally feel embraced instead of ridiculed and remove the teasing from the adolescent equation that affects so many children in a negative way. Give every person in this world the opportunity to live, learn, grow and urinate anywhere and anytime without societal pressure to "hold themselves in."
Adult diapers for everyone. It’s an idea whose time has come.
Inspired to "let myself go," I went ahead and left the following comment...
I heartily agree… but am having trouble finding adult diapers that offer full protection, yet have a slim profile. I tire of the embarrassing looks and stares I get while wearing my diapers in public!
Now, that was meant to be a joke. Ha ha funny and all that. I don't really wear diapers.
At least not yet.
But that hasn't stopped dozens of people from emailing me with advice about my "diaper problem."
Some people genuinely want to help out and offer diaper tips. Others want to make fun of me. Still others want to ask me questions about my "diaper habit" (or, heaven help them) ask me to send them photos of me wearing diapers (which is the email I got today). It's all pretty messed up, and has exposed me to a secret world of adult-diaper-fetish aficionados that I really didn't need to know about.
All because I didn't consider the consequences as I was hacking out a ten second comment.
Which is a shame, because the convenience of being able to pee in my pants is an idea that's starting to grow on me.
Rumor has it (from ex Disney-CEO Michael Eisner, no less) that the Hollywood writer's strike is all but over, and this Saturday will pretty much seal the deal once the writers themselves sign on.
I sure hope this is true, because I miss my television.
As I sit here typing this, the first episode of Survivor Season 16 has just ended (the only non-Bravo reality show I watch), and I am caught in the 9:00 void until Eli Stone starts at 10:00. And before everybody starts screaming "OH MY GAWD... YOU DON'T WATCH LOST?!?" The answer is no, I do not watch Lost. After a brilliant first season the show degenerated into total shit, where the writer's idea of being clever is to just keep piling on more "mysterious" crap while resolving nothing. Every time somebody tells me "But it's so much better now!" - I tune in and find out it's just more of the same... introduce even more new mysterious characters, pile on even more mysterious mysteries, and leave me even more mysteriously mystified at just how the fuck this show continues to be popular. Maybe once the whole thing is over and people tell me that the writers did, in fact, manage to wrap everything up in a satisfactory manner... I'll revisit the show on DVD or something. In the meanwhile, I'd rather watch reruns of Hannah Montanna.
In other entertainment news...
Today I got a brilliant email because of an entry where I posted this cartoon:
With a twist of my ring, I flame-broil the Burger King!
The email was not from a concerned parent about the excessive violence depicted at my flame-broiling Burger King (which is what usually happens)... it was from a fan of the restaurant chain who didn't like that I would publicize a bad experience I had there. "Millions of people enjoy eating at Burger King and it would be a shame if your complaining were to keep people from trying it for themselves."
So there you have it. Don't take my word for it... go to your local Burger King for breakfast and see for yourself just how bad it sucks!
Though, I have to add a disclaimer here: My problem with BK is only with their shitty breakfasts. I am compelled to give them credit for having the sack to put a veggie burger on their menu, which I actually quite enjoy. Until McDonalds sees fit to roll out their awesome McVeggie Deluxe burger nation-wide, the BK Veggie is about the only burger I can find most anywhere in the US that I can actually eat.
Sigh. I should have wrote more. There's still forty-five minutes until Eli Stone is on...
Today as I was leaving work, a woman was standing outside with her daughter as a train passed by with aircraft fuselages strapped to the cars. "What is that?" the little girl asked wide-eyed. "Those are planes" the mother replied. "That's silly. Where are their wings?" the girl said, stomping her tiny foot on the sidewalk.
The first thing that went through my mind was how totally cool it would be if they did leave the wings on when they transported airplanes on trains. The massive amount of damage that would ensue as they cut a swath of death and destruction on their journey would be a crazy-awesome sight to behold.
But then I felt sad because, just like the girl observed, a plane with no wings that can't fly isn't really a plane at all.
Until I realized that the fuselages were on their way over to Seattle, where Boeing would get them all fixed up with wings, landing gear, tiny toilets, a cool paint job, and uncomfortable seats packed too closely together. Then I was happy again.
Well, happy for the planes... not the people who have to sit in those uncomfortable seats...
This weekend I am going to Seattle too.
Alas, it's not to get my wings. I've decided it might be nice to stay grounded for a little while.
Why should I mess up an entire day of doing nothing by blogging?
Sometimes, lazy is good.
I spent all night trying to post a guest-entry over at Mr. Fab's blog, Pointless Drivel (probably Not Safe For Work... or anything else, for that matter), but nothing I tried would work.
Oh well. Assuming that somebody can help me get it posted tomorrow, there's big fun with Sculpey modeling clay over there...
I've never played with Sculpey before, and was shocked at how difficult it is to make stuff out of it. Everything I tried to build just ended up looking like a big ol' mess.
Guess I'll be sticking with my computer from here on out...
UPDATE... Thanks to Shelli and her kick-ass admin privileges, my post is now up...
With every fiber of my being, I LOATHE software that requires a hardware "key" (known as a "dongle") to operate.
Because I am forever losing the damn thing.
Today I had a critical project that I couldn't complete because I lost the dongle I needed for the program to work. This meant I had to rip apart my office, my car, my apartment, and everything I own in an attempt to find it. For three hours I was tearing my hair out in a feeble attempt to find a tiny piece of plastic that had no intention of revealing itself. Eventually I gave up, slightly more insane than when I started...
Once I got home from work, I finally managed to find the stupid thing in one of my suitcases. It was hidden in a back-pocket where I missed it the first time I looked. I was so happy that you'd have thought I'd found the freakin' Holy Grail or something...
So now I've got my dongle back and all is well in the world.
But not really.
My web hosting service is down, AGAIN, which means that I can't tell the world about my troubles.
Could be worse though. I could have been Hillary Clinton in tonight's Democratic debate. It's as if she suddenly decided that she wanted to confirm all the negative things people say about her. And then there was Obama... rising above it all to give us his calm, cool demeanor that was so presidential I could almost feel him as our nation's leader. If anybody watching it was on the fence as to who they were voting for, they're in Obama's camp now.
Argh. Time to go play with my dongle.
I tend not to dwell upon the past, but every once in a while I look back in my life and become despondent over the things I've failed to achieve. Goals never met. Plans never realized. Potential never fulfilled.
I suppose I'm not unique in this regard. How many people can say their life has gone exactly as planned?
Though I'm probably harder on myself than most because my goals are set rather high. My ultimate goal, naturally, is to become ruler of the earth and all I survey. But I realize this is not something likely to happen overnight... certain "minor goals" will have to act as stepping stones towards world domination. Unfortunately, these goals (as of yet) have also gone unsatisfied.
Like becoming a Knight of the British Empire.
You laugh, but they gave that shit to Bill Gates for infesting the United Kingdom with his Microsoft Windows crap, so why not recognize me for infesting The Most Excellent Order of the British Empire with my Blogography crap? And, as if that weren't enough, I look damn fine wearing jewel-encrusted silver ornaments. I would totally be rocking that "Star of the Knight" medal, I tell you what...
And I have no doubt that Her Majesty The Queen and I could become bestest friends...
But, alas, no knighthood for me.
I was reminded of this failure as I was watching the wacky Barbara Walters host "The Royal Family" special on television last night. It was actually pretty good, but just makes me want to watch the original British documentary, Monarchy: The Royal Family at Work, upon which the Baba Wawa special was bastardized from.
In even further bad news, my Apple Time Capsule wireless backup drive arrived yesterday...
But not really.
The box was completely empty.
When I got it, I noticed it was near-weightless, but I thought it might be software of some kind. After opening the box and finding nothing, I located the label from Apple, looked up the order number, and saw it was supposed to be my Time Capsule. After a long, convoluted call to Apple, they issued an insurance claim with FedEx and placed a new order. Unfortunately, this has added ten days to my delivery time, but oh well.
Perhaps I'll feel better about things if I were to knight myself.
Sir Dave2 sure does has a nice ring to it.
Today was a wacky day of catching up on work and trying to arrange travel plans for another three trips I've got coming up.
And looking over Apple's FREE iPhone Software Development Kit (or SDK) which was released this morning. If you're not a programmer, it can be somewhat technical and boring, but you can watch His Holiness Steve Jobs describe what's going on via QuickTime here (the demo hotness starts just over half-way through). Suffice to say... I am completely blown away. I simply did not anticipate that the SDK would be so refined, polished, and powerful. Developers are going to be FLOCKING to the iPhone, which means iPhone users are in for some incredibly cool stuff come June when the 2.0 software upgrade drops. I have some concerns about required distribution through the iTunes Music Store (though if you give your stuff away for free, there's no charge once you've paid the $99 developer fee), but overall I am very, very excited. iPhone is going to OWN the mobile market... sweet!
Anyway, somewhere along the day, I was asked to make a fake "tabloid magazine" prop for a play that's being put on at the High School. It's fun doing wacky stuff like this from time to time...
I would so totally buy this!
And now for another installment of Response to Hate-Mail...
Thank you for your wonderful email chastising me for "showing disrespect to The Queen of England" (from this entry, I'm guessing). A few points... #1: Her Majesty is not the "Queen of England," but instead constitutional monarch (The Queen) of the United Kingdom of Great Britain & Northern Ireland, and Head of the Commonwealth. There hasn't been a "Queen of England" since 1603. Since your IP address is actually located in England, I can only express my sadness that your educational system is apparently as bad as ours here in the USA. #2: I have nothing but the upmost respect for Her Majesty, and wouldn't dream of showing her any disrespect. If wanting to be her friend is disrespectful, then this world is in deeper trouble than I thought. #3: I've read a couple biographies of The Queen, and actually admire Her Majesty for taking on a job she never asked for and performing it to the best of her abilities. Her Majesty has led an exemplary life in service, has done so with dignity and devotion to her people, and deserves nothing but respect for it. I know I'll demand nothing less when I'm king of the world, so fuck you for implying I feel otherwise...
Good night... I love you my Apple iPhone!
Back in Seattle safe and sound and kind of missing Norway already.
I'd blog about it, but I really like my viking DaveToon, so I'm just going to post that instead...
It was only a matter of time...
For far too long I've been dissatisfied with the condoms available on the market. So many different brands, styles, colors, and flavors... yet none of them get it right.
Because I've decided to create my own condom.
D•A•V•E Condoms™ are for the discriminating gentleman who sees advertisements for other brands saying "FOR HER PLEASURE" and thinks What about ME?
Well I hear that.
Here at D•A•V•E Condoms™, we've used cutting-edge technology to build propolactics that will not only thrill the ladies with their exclusive DAVE-WAVE™ ribbing and chocolate pudding scent, but will also provide hours of pleasure for the fellas thanks to our DAVE-RAVE™ bio-electric warming gel.
When released this June, everyone will finally be able to experience the ultimate pleasure that only D•A•V•E can provide. So when you think of sex... think of me! Think of D•A•V•E Condoms™
Wow. The reaction to my April Fool's condom ad was so favorable that I almost wish I was able to manufacture them! I should start experimenting with latex, chocolate pudding, and banana molds... how difficult can it be to make a condom?
And speaking of experimentation...
Ever since I found out that I'm 20% gay, I've been trying to find a way to put it to good use. I was going to find a pride parade to march in so that I could show support for my 100% gay brothers and sisters, but I just can't pull off the dress code...
Fortunately, Jestertunes has come to the rescue and is having me on as Very Special guest-host for a Very Special episode of The Jester Show tonight (Wednesday) at 7:00 Pacific (10:00 Eastern)...
The topic for the last half of the show is going to be "Your Favorite Television Shows of The 80's" so it ought to be big fun!
As for the first half of the program, heaven only knows what trouble we'll get into. Since his show description says that we'll be "waxing hysterical on gay sex," perhaps I'll have a chance to ask him about those burning gay questions that have come up over the years...
So tune into The Jester Show tonight for "Long time friends and blog acquaintances waxing hysterical on gay sex, politics, tv, movies, music, and generally trashing people we come into contact with on a regular basis." I'm sure it will be fierce and fabulous!*
* Well, I'm sure Jester will be fierce and fabulous... I'm just going to embarrass myself as usual.
It's Bullet Sunday from lovely Salt Lake City, Utah!
Where I may very well be spending the entire day in bed.
• Skittles! OMG! WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME THAT THEY NOW MAKE CHOCOLATE-MIX SKITTLES?? Each bag-full has five yummy flavors: S'mores, Chocolate Caramel, Vanilla, Brownie Batter, and... wait for it... CHOCOLATE PUDDING, BITCHES!! Just look at my most excellent breakfast this morning...
• Stones! But my happiness at discovering Chocolate Mix Skittles is seriously dampened by the constant mind-blowing pain of a kidney stone that has long since worn out its welcome. Unless doped up on drugs all day long, my entire groin aches as if I'm being kicked in the balls every two seconds...
I am so ready for this to be over.
• Galactica! I was too drugged to watch the season premiere of Battlestar Galactica on Friday, so I've got it at home sitting on my TiVo. But I really wanted to watch it last night. First I tried every legal option available to me. iTunes Music Store? Not sold there. Streaming from the official site? Yes, but Sci-Fi Channel's streaming sucks ass by stalling every 10 seconds. BitTorrent it is then! This is really f#@%ing stupid on Sci-Fi Channel's part. Had they been selling their shows on iTunes, they would have got a double purchase from me... once so I could watch it now, and again when the DVD is released (just as I've bought all the other Battlestar Galactica DVDs). Why is it these dumb-f#@% networks STILL don't understand how to distribute their shit? They'd rather bitch and moan about how internet piracy is killing their profits WHEN THEY'RE THE DUMBASSES WHO CAUSE THE PIRACY IN THE FIRST PLACE!! Cry me a river, bitches. It's really a shame too, because this show is amazing. The space battles are about the best I've ever seen.
• Chilly! Long-time Blogography commenter and fellow blogger from Banal Leakage, Marty (better known here as ChillyWilly) was kind enough to bring along his fiance and join me for dinner at the Salt Lake City landmark: The Rio Grande Cafe. Since I was whacked out on pain-killers, who knows if I was coherent for the evening... but that's probably true whether I am drugged-up or not...
• Skank! On my way walking to dinner last night, a car full of girls at a stop light started screaming obscenities my way, saying things like "SOMEBODY NEEDS TO TEACH YOU TO FUCK LIKE A MAN!" I should have ignored them but, because this is me we're talking about, I screamed back "AND SOMEBODY NEEDS TO TEACH YOU TO DOUCHE YOU FILTHY WHORE!!" I didn't think anything of it until the three of us were walking back from The Gateway after dinner when another car of girls pulled up and started screaming crap like "YOU'RE THE KIND OF MAN I'M LOOKING FOR!" What the hell? But then it was explained to me that they were not yelling at me... they were yelling at the Mormons walking next to us. Remembering back, I realized that I probably wasn't the intended "victim" the first time either, because there was a group of Mormons walking behind me then (there's a huge convention for the Latter Day Saints Church here in town, so they're everywhere). Seriously, WTF?!? Dumbass ugly bitches in this city drive around screaming crap at Mormons to feel better about themselves? It wouldn't have been any less stupid had they been hot, but these were so not hot-looking babes. They were skanky trolls hanging out with other skanky trolls so they could make fun of clean-cut Mormon guys who are too decent and kind to fight back. I suppose for these ugly-ass skanks, it's the closest thing to being in a relationship with a man that they're going to get without a crack-pipe being involved. Is there anything more ironic and sad?
• Founded! Okay, I can't let this go... Salt Lake City was BUILT by Mormons. They MADE this place. This is THEIR city. The came here to make a home of their own after being persecuted everywhere else for their religious beliefs (go America!). You'd think that the butt-ugly bitches that drive around harassing Mormon guys would show a little fucking respect. You may not care for their religion, but is that any reason to treat them like crap in a city their people founded to get away from exactly this type of bullshit? Instead of tormenting guys who are just trying to live their lives in peace, why not go build your own city... a city where toxic ugly bitches can go be miserable without bugging the shit out of the rest of us. I wish society would fucking grow up and learn tolerance, because this stupid shit really sets me on edge.
• Beauty! And now, because I refuse to close out this entry with such ugliness, some photos I took on my trip yesterday...
While I was eating my Qdoba Breakfast Burrito, I looked out the giant glass windows of the Sea-Tac Airport food court and was stunned to see that a shaft of light was cutting through the horizon, illuminating the mountains in a way that made them look as if they were floating. I threw down my food and hauled ass towards the windows so I could capture the moment, but none of the pictures came close to reproducing the staggering sight. Perhaps if you use your imagination, you can kind of see what I'm talking about here...
But not really. Oh well. It was truly jaw-dropping, and by the time I gave up trying to photography it, a bunch of people had crowded around the windows to take a look.
I've published so many from-the-air shots here, but I really liked the way this one turned out as I was flying over southern Idaho...
And, lastly, here's The Great Salt Lake as I descended into SLC...
Breakfast has me feeling much better, so I think it might be time to get out of bed and go get some soup! I swear, some of the best soups on earth are to be found in Salt Lake City...
Blame it on Friday.
Last Saturday when I was flying to Salt Lake City and had my first layover in Seattle, some crazy bitch sat down next to me and pulled out a book by an author I positively loathe. I'd go so far as to say that I hate this author, but I try really hard not to hate anybody. Suffice to say I dislike the author enough that it makes me want to rip the book out of crazy bitch's hands and beat her to death with it.
Except I try really hard not to be violent either.
In real life, anyway.
In cartoons I don't mind a little violence thrown in for entertainment value.
So as I sat there fuming that somebody paid money for a book that's filled with gross exaggerations, half-truths, blatant lies, and vile hatred... all in the name of selling books to morons who are too lazy to seek the truth and too stupid to care that they're being manipulated... I drew a cartoon.
Then decided it went too far and promptly filed it away, never to be seen again.
Because I'm lazy, don't feel like blogging, and it's Friday.
But mostly because it's Friday.
Am I the only one who thinks that Hillary Clinton has just reached the point where she is completely and totally unelectable? And if she keeps being a douche, Obama is going to be unelectable too. I guess this means that McCain is our next president. Oh well. I've had a pretty good life... I guess I'm okay with the Apocalypse in 2009.
But first I need to achieve world domination. And I'm thinking that I'll need a couple billion dollars to get that going.
Perhaps there's an opportunity in the gourmet hot cocoa market?
I could serve super-expensive cocoa with a variety of configurations and flavorings!
I can hear it now...
"I'd like a grande half-soy vanilla blended cocoa with foam plus whip cream and pink sprinkles... extra hot!"
"That will be $8.00 please!"
Yeah, there's a billion dollar idea right there...
I didn't realize that my entry yesterday would result in a half-dozen emails and some comments asking what was wrong and if I was going to be okay.
I'm fine. I was just banging my head against the wall trying to think of something to blog about, and ultimately decided to blog about banging my head against the wall. But instead of writing about it, I drew up a DaveToon. I don't know why, but sometimes it's easier to express myself that way than trying to come up with the words.
Anyway, today I'm working on stuff for my Kick-Ass Blogiversary 5 Celebration next week. Since I can't really talk about that yet, there's nothing I could blog about except how I ate Hello Kitty strawberry cream dipping biscuits for breakfast...
They're Hello Kitty delicious! That bitch really knows how to make breakfast!
Before I get back to work, I'd like to wish everybody who celebrates Passover a happy Seder tonight.
Mostly because it gives me an opportunity to reprint a nifty cartoon I drew for the occasion last year...
I think every Passover needs a drunk monkey sommelier at the table... even if they do eat the Karpas off of everybody's Seder plate. Bad Monkey!
Winner, winner, chicken dinner!
Still working on the Artificial Duck Co. Store. I've got one more page to build and test before I can go online... probably tomorrow morning (this stuff is complicated!). The good news is that enough people expressed interest in the Blogography Playing Cards that I doubled my order and got some pretty sweet pricing. Hopefully a lot of people will want to buy them or else I'm going to be sitting on a LOT of cards for a very long time.
In other news... SHIRTS, BITCH!!
The winner (by quite a large margin) was MONKEY BUTTON!!!
The runner-up (in a much closer race) was BAD MONKEY GYM!!!
I will be printing both of them. The "Classic T-Shirts" will be kept in-stock. "Ladies Shirts" will be printed only to cover pre-orders, but not kept in stock. This is because they just don't seem to sell over the long-haul. I get a good enough initial order, but the rest of them just sit on the shelf.
In other good news, I've decided to re-stock ZOMBIES ATE MY BRAIN!!!
Entirely too many people keep asking me when I'm going to get these back in stock, so I've decided to order them with my next print run. I guess it just goes to show... everybody loves zombies!
The problem here is that I don't have enough space to store all these shirts.
So I'm going to put some of the older inventory shirts on close-out at ridiculous prices... $5 for "Classic Shirts" and $4 for "Ladies Shirts" while supplies last. Sure I'm going to lose money, but think of all the closet space I'll free up!
New designs will be on half-price pre-order pricing of $8.50 each (regular $17.00). That's to thank everybody for voting... and also apologize for having to wait until June for shipment.
But there is one small problem.
Usually I do not charge for an order until I ship it. The problem is that Yahoo! (the company who runs my shopping cart) deletes all credit card information after two weeks. If I were to wait until I ship in June, I wouldn't be able to collect the money. So, unfortunately, I'm put in the position of having to charge immediately for all the pre-orders. Hopefully this won't upset people too badly, but I don't really have any other choice.
And there you have it.
Totally sweet, awesome quality stuff at insanely low prices. Could you ask for anything more?
I love my readers entirely too much.
Q: What's worse than having to spend 5 hours in a plane full of dicks?
A: Spending 5 hours on a plane full of dicks with an airline that serves TUNA FISH SNACK BOXES.
Seriously. I love Alaska Airlines and all that... they are easily one of my favorite companies to fly with.
BUT HOW F#@%ING STUPID IS IT THAT THEY SERVE STINKY TUNA FISH IN AN ENCLOSED SPACE LIKE AN AIRPLANE?!?
And, as if that weren't enough of a crimp on my day, I found out this morning that the post office is changing postal rates on May 12th. So now I have to get all that figured out before I can open the Artificial Duck Co. Store for pre-orders.
This is shaping up to be a heck of a week.
When the alarm clock went off at 4:30am, I was genuinely puzzled, because I didn't set the alarm. After managing to turn the stupid thing off, I noticed a strange itch starting inside the right-side of my tongue. Kind of like a mosquito bite, but without the mosquito. Thinking I must have bit my tongue in the middle of the night, I ignored it the best I could and fell back asleep.
So imagine my surprise when I woke up a few hours later to discover that the right-side of my tongue had swollen severely, and nearly filled my mouth. It had grown to about an inch thick for no apparent reason, but somehow didn't affect my breathing. It wasn't painful, but it was very, very uncomfortable.
Consulting Google searches, I eventually figured out this was most likely something called "Angiodema" which may be caused by an allergic reaction, or stress. Apparently there's nothing you can really do for it except take an anti-histamine until the swelling goes down. I decided to ignore it, thinking that stressing about it would only make things worse.
Fortunately, as the day wore on, my tongue started shrinking back to normal and is doing just fine now. Hopefully it stays that way.
After making our way from Newark Liberty Airport into the city, we checked into our hotel and then headed down the street to Rockefeller Plaza...
From there it was a quick subway ride shouth for a totally brilliant showing of Murakami artwork at The Brooklyn Museum. I am a huge, huge fan of Murakami, and his art has inspired a lot of things in the DaveToons I draw. Like this Murakami tribute I made using his happy flowers...
You couldn't take photos in the exhibit, but there were some cool pieces outside in the lobby...
After the museum, we headed to the Upper-West Side to check out the Museum of Natural History and the Space Museum...
But the real highlight here is the dinosaurs... like this totally evil "Ann Coulter Fish," which I named because of the uncanny resemblance to the stupid bitch...
Of course the have real dinosaurs too, but they aren't quite as scary as the AnnCoulterFish...
And, naturally, we had to pay homage to the Holy Land and visit the beautiful Apple Store Cube after walking through Central Park...
Back in Times Square, we noticed that Avitable must have enjoyed his pedicure immensely, because has apparently opened up a spa here in New York. It's nice to know that guys can finally have a place of their own to go be all pretty...
And Naked Cowboy was, of course, there to sing along...
When the dinner hour came, we headed to a restaurant where we were trying to decide if we wanted to eat there or not. But as soon as I saw this...
I was 100% sold on us eating there. Because of this...
Yes... OMFG... ELIZABETH HURLEY ATE THERE!! Sweet! I could totally feel her presence!
All-in-all it was a pretty busy day.
I guess we'll see what excitement tomorrow brings.
The Artificial Duck Co. Store will be reopening tomorrow, May 8th, at 12:00 noon, Seattle Time (click here to see when that is in your corner of the world).
It may be a week later than I had wanted (dang you TequilaCon!!), but things ended up being a lot more complicated than I had planned. It seemed that for every step in progress I made, something popped up to knock me back. Add the graphics... lose the text. Transfer the shipping table... have to update the postage costs. Publish the database... find a table has gone missing. It was enough to drive me insane.
But it's all done.
The only thing left to do is test everything in the morning to make sure it's working. Then we reopen at noon...
In less-happy news...
Why is it that cool stuff always seems to happen just after I leave somewhere?
I left New York on Monday, so naturally today is the day that The Metropolitan Museum of Art decided to start an exhibit called Super-Heroes: Fashion and Fantasy...
I'm not really into fashion, but I think it would be very cool to see how stuff from comic books has influenced clothing in Real Life. Oh well, it's open until September, so maybe I'll have a chance to see it before it's gone. If not, I'm hopeful that somebody at Geeks of Doom will review the show.
Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go to bed early and dream that a giant rock falls on Hillary Clinton.
NEWSFLASH: IT'S OVER!
Ever have one of those days where everything sucks?.
Yeah, that was pretty much my day today... and tomorrow isn't looking like it's going to be much better.
But the big news? I've developed a serious allergy. It first appeared without warning when I woke up in New York with a swollen tongue. Ever since then, I've had random knots of allergic swelling from time to time on my feet, hands, lips, and tongue. It's been driving me a little nuts, but today the pieces finally fell into place after I started keeping a journal of everything I consume.
I think I'm allergic to eating food dyes.
After starting my journal, I've found that any time I've eaten colored foods, I end up with a welt somewhere. The first time it happened in New York City, I remember having drank a bottle of Orange Gatorade earlier in the day. Today I had red Fruit Punch with my Cheesy Fiesta Potatoes at Taco Bell, and now I've got a nice welt on my lip.
So it looks like my diet will be a lot less colorful from now on.
Like I said, suckage.
Thank heavens there's no artificial colors in chocolate pudding.
But there is one good bit of news from the day... I finally finished the box design for my playing cards!
Awwwww, cute! This is probably my favorite DaveToon I've ever drawn, so when it came time to decide what to put on the card box, it was the only thing I really considered. I hope that the card company does a good job of printing it!
For more information on Blogography Playing Cards, you can check them out at the Artificial Duck Co., store.
Next week I'll be wrapping up the pre-orders at the store... so, if you want something there, now is the time to order it! I will try to get a few extras of everything, but can't guarantee how long they'll be available. If you don't have the cash to pre-order right now, just email me and I'll try to reserve your stuff (my email is in the top of my sidebar).
One. More. Day.
Working 19 hour-days has put me in a goofy brain-damaged kind of mood.
I finally got around to reading my email tonight and found that a young boy (with help from his mom) had written to tell me that it's not polite to chew with my mouth open.
This was scary-puzzling to me. Because not only am I'm an advocate for closed-mouth chewing, but I'm also horrified at the thought of small children stalking me. Not knowing what this kid was talking about or where he might have seen me, I wrote back and asked.
Turns out he wasn't writing to me, but to Lil' Dave...
Hmmm... apparently my enthusiasm for corn is responsible for corrupting children by teaching them bad eating habits now.
See, there's a reason I tag my blog as containing adult content.
Maintaining my smoldering hot looks is not as easy as you would think.
Especially when I occasionally have to get mutant oil glands electrocuted off my face. This is a completely horrible procedure which entails a visit to the dermatologist. Not because they're really noticeable or anything... but because they're annoying. They're like tiny little bumps that get caught on everything.
At first I was going to post a picture of my current post-electrocuted self, but I didn't want to scare people. Instead I decided to illustrate the procedure with DaveToons. I think it's safer for everybody involved.
First you get stabbed in the face repeatedly with a needle to numb the areas that are going to get electrocuted...
The numbing injections, as you would expect, sting like a muthafraker and numb your face. But they also leave the nasty white splotches everywhere...
As soon as you've been suitably numbed, the dermatologist uses an electric scalpel to carve up your face. It's kind of like an arc-welder, where a fine-tipped instrument shoots jolts of electricity that cuts and cauterizes at the same time. The cauterization is kind of cool, because it means you don't leave the office a bloody mess. Instead you leave with little scorch marks all over...
The next morning your white splotches are gone, and only the little burnt scabs remain. But once you take a shower, the scabs fall off. This leaves your face a bleeding mess for a few hours (this is the stage I'm at now)...
After a few days, the morning bloodletting subsides and you're left with little pink scars...
Since the scars are superficial, they fade away in about three weeks, revealing my hot sexy self once again...
And there you have it. See the kind of stuff I have to go through in order to be pretty for you?
Because it's Pride Month, I was all set to write a nice entry about gay marriage in support of my GLBT friends. I've already blogged my support previously, but that was a while ago, and I thought I would come up with something new. But this time, I didn't just want to ramble on uninformed... I thought I would do some actual research.
So last night while I was listening to online radio, I started poking around. I had always heard that FOX News was "fair and balanced," so I decided to start there.
Nothing could prepare me for what I learned. Apparently there's a "gay agenda" set to demolish the sanctity of marriage and tear apart society. The Gays are hellbent (heh heh) on destroying us all.
Words cannot express the horrors I've discovered. Thus, I've sketched out the future of all humanity on a series of cocktail napkins while drowning my sorrows in cheap alcohol...
And there you have it...
GAY MARRIAGE = THE END OF THE UNIVERSE!
Vote your conscience.
Don't anybody go lighting their house on fire tonight...
Much happiness to you both!
I'm so tired that my brain has melted. Zombie time.
It's 11:00pm and I just finished the last of the orders I can fill from the Artificial Duck Co. Store. Basically, if your order doesn't have playing cards, it will ship tomorrow (that's 106 orders total). If your order does have playing cards... hopefully they will arrive when I get back from Atlanta so I can ship all remaining orders then. If the playing cards aren't waiting for me when I get back, they'll have to ship when I return from San Diego. So... barring any catastrophe (e.g. the plane carrying my cards crashes into the Pacific Ocean) all orders will have shipped by the end of the month!
Thanks so much to Artificial Duck Co. customers for your patience.
I had no idea that when I decided to make my own playing cards that it would be such a big frickin' deal. I foolishly assumed that the three months I spent drawing them would be the hard part. How wrong I was. I've now gone through three different companies and have experienced every conceivable problem... twice... since I placed my first order for them BACK IN FEBRUARY!!!
Given the total disaster I've had trying to get my playing cards manufactured, you can understand why I'm already getting merchandise ideas together for my Blogiversary VI celebration next April. Two of the items are just killer, and I hope they work out because I want them pretty bad (even though they'll probably bankrupt me to have them made).
And now it's time to pack my suitcase.
I sure hope I can get even a few hours sleep tonight.
Later this week I will be taking off for Southern California to experience Comic-Con 2008 in San Diego. Believe it or not, I've never been before, so I am really looking forward to it. The entire convention is sold-out for all four days but, fortunately, I bought my tickets and made my hotel reservations way early, so I think I'm good to go!
The only problem is trying to figure out which events I want to attend. Sure there are some things I'd like to see... but there's nothing so life-altering happening that I absolutely have to do it. With that in mind, I think I'll just play it by ear and wander around until something looks interesting to me.
I take that back... there is, of course ONE event that is positively unmissable, and that would be Dave Diego on Saturday night!
If you will be in the vicinity of San Diego and like to drop by to eat, drink, and chat with a swell group of bloggers... please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org ASAP so we can make reservations for dinner and get you a name badge!
And now for two more days of torture before good times begin...
As I had mentioned a couple times before, the small town where I live has a weekly anti-war protest in the center of town at the main intersection. It's usually just two or three people holding up signs with Bible scriptures and Jesus quotes promoting peace. The reaction from the locals here is not exactly pleasant.
Today one reaction was positively hostile.
As I was driving through downtown, I heard the moron two cars ahead of me revving the engine of his massive pick-up truck (stereotype much?) as he approached the protestors, heading straight at them. I guess the joke was supposed to be that he (or she!) was going to run them down on the sidewalk.
HA! HA! HA! HA!
Yeah, that's hysterical.
Because wanting peace is so stupid!
Apparently if you disagree with somebody, that give you the right to terrorize them?
I felt bad for the two ladies there, so I flashed them a peace-sign as I drove by...
The credit card company finally unfrozed my account this afternoon so I could send the remainder of the orders I have stacked up. I got through 38 of them before the post office closed, leaving 27 for tomorrow.
After those are gone, there are about 30 orders left waiting for the missing "Monkey Button Ladies T-Shirt" to arrive. They were supposed to be here yesterday or today, but didn't show up. If they don't arrive tomorrow, I will send the orders out anyway and back-order the shirt until I get back from Davecago, Dave Louis, and Dave Lake City.
Oog. That reminds me... I need to pack.
A couple of months ago Avitable filled me in on the plans for his annual Halloween Party Bash, which I had attended the previous year. It seemed impossible that he could outdo himself, given how amazing things turned out last time, but he was working hard to do just that. He began with the theme The Neverwas Fair, and started building around the idea of an old-time sideshow carnival... with a creepy edge to it. And he wanted me to design a T-shirt he could use for fundraising.
It seemed the least I could do.
At first I wanted to do something dark and macabre... kind of grungy, dirty and twisted. Perhaps in charcoal and spattered ink. I had images of a ringmaster holding out his hat with snakes and spiders escaping from it. Maybe a circus tent in the background with an assortment of scary circus performers.
But everybody in the blogosphere associates me with the simple DaveToons I draw here, not the works I do "in real life," so I begrudgingly set aside my dark fantasies and grab a pencil and legal pad to do something entirely different. I still liked the idea of a ringmaster, so I decided I'd make a DaveToon Avitable ringmaster, and populate the background with cute DaveToon circus folk.
Here's the initial pencil sketch, which you can make bigger by clicking on it...
If you want to see the final design, it's over at Avitable's blog. He's got a pretty sweet contest going, so you might want to check it out.
If you want to see the steps of how the design was made, I've got that documented in an extended entry...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
Seriously, I haven't slept in three days. Wish me luck!
Turns out that when all you can eat is crappy stuff like carrots and rice cakes, you don't really have much of an appetite.
I spent much of the day forcing myself to eat tiny meals at 2 hour intervals so I stay full, but most of the time I just wasn't interested. Pineapple slices, almonds and apple juice for breakfast. Rice cake and raisins for after-breakfast snack. An apple and Pineapple-Orange juice for before-lunch snack. A salad with grape tomatoes, tofu, and Vinaigrette plus a rice cake and water for lunch. Carrots and almonds as an after-lunch snack. A banana as a before-dinner snack. Rice cakes with Spanish rice and tomatoes on top plus mango-pineapple juice for dinner.
And I never wanted to eat any of it, because none of it sounded remotely tempting (though it all tasted okay).
But that's alright. Because tomorrow I have to drive to Spokane and I will cheat on my restrictive diet. I will cheat because Spokane is home to the best pizza on earth, and I would rather die than visit there and not eat some of it. But I will only have one slice, and I won't drink a soda with it, so hopefully it won't mess things up too much.
Nobody tell my doctor.
A lot of people made note of what I'm eating and were concerned about two things... protein and my bowels.
The protein isn't too big of a deal. This diet is only a two-week trial, and I'm eating almonds and tofu to make sure I don't collapse.
And my bowels are fine, thank you for asking.
Apparently many people commented that eating all those fruit and vegetables would cause "intestinal distress," yet I've experienced no such problems. But the week is young. This is not to say I won't be giving a presentation or something when all of a sudden my bowels act up...
Then I guess my ass is just supposed to explode all over the place...
As fun as that all sounds, I think my bowels will be happy to keep it all contained.
At least I hope so.
Wouldn't it be horrible to be driving in the middle of nowhere (i.e. Eastern Washington State) and have your ass explode?
This morning I had to unblock the FOX News Channel on my TiVo so I could tell it to record =shudder= The O'Reilly Factor tonight. This goes against my policy of unnecessarily exposing myself to lying dumbass fucktards, but I'm hoping the horror of having to watch Bill O'Reilly will be offset by the person he's interviewing: Barack Obama. If O'Reilly will shut his stupid mouth long enough to let Obama speak, it should be a fascinating show.
Still, I fully plan on slamming no less than three shots of Jägermeister and having a Rum & Root Beer handy to take the edge off.
It's times like this that make me wish hardcore drugs were cheap and easily available. And legal, of course.
In happier news, the dates for the blogger meet-ups in Austin and San Francisco have been set.
If you'd like to come along and hang out with some extraordinary blogging-type people, then please send me an email at email@example.com
Hmmm... O'Reilly starts at 5:00. I wonder how early I should start drinking?
Please, can the election be over now so we can all just get on with our lives?
I would be remiss if I didn't mention that none of this financial mess would be happening if I were absolute ruler of the earth.
Is same-sex marriage a right to ones pursuit of happiness? Or is same-sex marriage the end of the universe? I honestly don't know. It's hard to say which it is when marriage can be so many things to so many people.
Marriage can be marrying somebody for money.
Marriage can be marrying somebody for citizenship.
Marriage can be marrying somebody for power.
Marriage can be marrying somebody for obligation.
Marriage can be marrying somebody for security.
Marriage can be marrying somebody for image.
Marriage can be marrying somebody for convenience.
Marriage can be hundreds of things that have nothing to do with love, but it's all okay under the eyes of the law.
Yet California's "Marriage Protection Act" Proposition 8 is saying two people who are actually in love shouldn't be able to get married if they have the same genitalia. That's not "protecting marriage"... it's discrimination against two tax-paying, consenting adults. And it's not fair. If people born straight get to marry who they want, then that same right should extend to people born gay or else it's discrimination. It doesn't matter what anybody believes, it's about what's fair.
Fair is good.
We need more good things in the world right now.
I hope voters in California think so too.
The latest meme du jour is to tell about your worst date ever.
Unfortunately, my "worst" date contains classified information, so I can't spill the beans on that until the statute of limitations expire. What I can do is talk about my second-worst date. Compared to some of the stories I've read by other bloggers, it's relatively tame... but it does have vomit in it, which should be grounds for immediate qualification... shouldn't it?
Lucky for me I already blogged about it a couple of years ago, so I get to cut and paste today's entry. This is good, because I have to get up in 4-1/2 hours so I can drive to the airport. Stupid early morning flights.
When talking about "worst dates," I am reminded of a time I attempted to build a relationship while battling a migraine headache AND being nauseated by The Special Pills. It all started when I was set up on a date with a girl who I really, really liked... but from a distance. I didn't know her very well at all. A mutual friend asked her if she wanted to go out with me, and she said something like "oh, he's funny!" and agreed. But, on the day we decided on dinner and a movie, I was hit with a huge migraine. Desperately not wanting to break our date for fear I would never get another one, I doped up on The Special Pills and went on my way. Dinner was painful. She talked and talked and talked about... well, nothing, really. My head was throbbing, and she simply would not stop talking. After paying the check I went to the bathroom so I could throw up. Then we drove to the movie with her talking all the way... I was SO looking forward to the film starting in anticipation of finally getting some peace and quiet. Alas, it was not to be. She talked through the entire film...
*Those unfamiliar with internet-speak can get an "O RLY" explanation here.
It was the longest night of my life. Puking in the bathroom was actually a hilight. The funny thing was that she thought the date went great, and asked my friend if I would be asking her out again. Sure she was fun to look at, but the thought of having to endure another night of her non-stop talking without guarantee of a sexual return was more than I could take. I didn't make just one excuse to get out of asking her out again, I made five.
One day I should be reminded to write about my third-worst date. It has Vaseline in it... but not in the way you might be thinking.
It was an eventful day.
Here's hoping tomorrow is equally exciting!
I can't take it anymore. It's to the point where I don't even care who wins... just make the stupid-ass political ads stop. There is no way that any of the candidates out there deserve to be rewarded with a vote after the way their campaigns have behaved. Particularly for Washington State Governor... both of these ass-hats need to be beaten... severely. They all do.
And Washington isn't even a swing-state! I can't imagine how annoying the ads must be in Florida, Pennsylvania, or Ohio right now.
Politics in this country suck ass.
The people who will be representing YOU in our government are being elected RIGHT NOW.
Lil' Dave would like to remind everybody to get out and vote! Many States even allow you to vote early so you don't have to stand in lines come November 4th.
Bad Monkey would like to remind everybody that even if you're not registered to vote, you can still take place in the democratic process by smearing the candidate you like least with lies, exaggerations, and rumors.
Isn't democracy great?
Congratulations, President Elect Barack Obama!
Don't fuck it up...
I am quite possibly the greatest person to have ever lived, and will undoubtedly continue to be so until the end of time.
I put that out there because the blogosphere seems to be all introspective and analytical on themselves lately, and I thought that I'd jump on board. It's easy for me because I am so sublimely perfect. I don't shy away from taking a deep, penetrating look at myself because the outcome is always the same... I am a really terrific person. Smart, funny, witty, charming, clever, accomplished, loyal, logical, creative, kind, helpful, friendly, trustworthy, humble... they're all words you could use to describe me, and the list goes on and on. It just doesn't get much better than me.
But I'm boring you with things you already know.
Not that I could ever be boring! Heavens no! I'm just being redundant.
Though I'm not being redundant because I don't think you're smart enough to get it the first time around... perish the thought! You're nifty! I like you! And coming from a person like me, that's saying a lot. You should feel really special. Because you are special. I like you, so how could you not be?
If I have one failing, it's that I'm too giving.
I'm a giver.
Just look at this blog! I write here every day because people demand it. People just love me, and who am I to deny sharing a bit of myself with them? But I don't need to tell you that. You're here reading this, so you already know how much you love me!
Guess I should add "modest" to the massive list of traits that describe how great I am.
Now if only somebody would build that fifty-story monument to my awesomeness that I've always wanted, we could all move on with our lives... secure in the knowledge that future generations will be able to partake in my legacy of greatness...
Now, don't you feel a little better about yourself because you've read Blogography today?
Sure you do! Life is good because I'm in it!
One last thing before I go... does anybody know where my car keys are? I could have sworn I had them when I drove home from work...
UPDATE: DING! DING! DING! DING! We have a winner...
An unapproved comment has been posted on your blog Blogography, for entry #3612 (Idiopathic). You need to approve this comment before it will appear on your site.
I think you're having an allergic reaction to your ego. Good luck with that.
Commenter name: True
Commenter email address: firstname.lastname@example.org
Commenter IP address: 22.214.171.124
Thank you clueless anonymous commenter in Minnesota! I was beginning to think that we wouldn't get that one person who has no concept of sarcastic humor!
I drew this DaveToon last year. Since it still sums up everything I feel about the holiday, I'm running it again this year...
Still not a good day for turkeys, obviously.
How does anything ever get done in this country? Every time I work on a project now-a-days, I run into so many obstacles that completing stuff is nothing short of a miracle. A lot of times I can chalk it up to laziness. Nobody wants to do their job... especially if it inconveniences them in any way. Heaven forbid you make somebody actually get up off their ass and do something. I'm forever getting hosed by crazy shit like "union jurisdiction" and "departmental authority" and whatever other crap people can dream up to pass their work off to somebody else.
You'd think with the bad job market we've got now that people would be working harder.
Alas, it just isn't so.
In other news...
We haven't even had our first snow yet, and people are are driving like complete idiots. I always thought it had to do with road conditions, but I guess it's just the time of year?
All I know is that a lot of people out there on the road need to die.
While I was at SeaTac airport waiting for my flight, they announced that there was marginal weather in Wenatchee, and we may have to turn around and come back to Seattle if the pilot couldn't see the runway. After a week of being unable to get home, I really didn't want to go through that again, so I was pretty bummed out.
As I was looking for a seat, I noticed a guy praying the rosary, which I found a little strange because he was kind of young, and I didn't know that Catholics really did much of that outside of church anymore. Not that I was complaining... every little bit helps in these situations... yet it still seemed odd to me.
But then I noticed that he was a priest, which explained everything.
After two more warnings about the weather getting worse and several annoying delays because Horizon Air was understaffed and trying to cram too many flights through a single gate, we boarded the plane. At which time we got even more warnings about weather problems in Wenatchee. But there was a priest on-board, so it's not like I could scream " GAAAAAH! NO SHIT! JUST FLY THE FUCKING PLANE, DAMMIT!!!"
And yet... we landed without incident. The runway was perfectly clear.
If I would have known having a priest on-board was the answer, I would have joined up last week...
Of course, I wouldn't be satisfied with just being a priest, I'd have to fulfill my ambition of becoming Pope...
Except I don't think I would have room for my pope hat on the plane, which explains why the Pope never flies commercial.
Oh well. I'm home now.
For a month.
All the world seems to want nothing more than to stay contained inside the little box they call their life. They don't want to venture out... they certainly don't want anything new or different coming in. And the minute you try to cut a small hole in their box so you can say hello or share an idea, they've got the duct tape out to plaster over it. This wouldn't be too bad except these same people are intent of keeping everybody else confined in little boxes too...
The worst part is that you don't even get to choose your own container, other people pick it for you. The best you can do is decorate the inside of your box with cool stickers and stuff.
But I ran out of stickers years ago.
And now I'm just tired.
I am so tired of being trapped in this box I've been stuffed into.
Or, to put it another way... why? Why won't they let me order breakfast at McDonalds after 10:30?
Apparently, It's Valentine's Day.
And so here's this year's card...
Except I'm not a big fan of Valentine's Day, so I revised it to be a bit more indicative of my feelings...
Click here for a look at past Blogography Valentine's Day cards.
It's 8:00pm and I'm already in bed. Not because I'm tired, but because I kind of got used to working in bed while I was sick. It's a pretty comfy way to be on the job, that's for sure.
This morning while I was cleaning up the disaster in my bedroom that's accumulated from the past week of sloth, I found a big bag of money laying at the foot of my bed. And by "big bag" I mean a gallon-sized Ziplock plastic bag, and by "lot of money" I mean $320 in tens and twenties (which may not be a lot of money to you, but it's sure a lot of money to me).
I spent the rest of my day trying to figure out what it was doing there, and where it came from. Not that I was assuming somebody broke into my home and put it there... no... I knew it was my money. I just couldn't for the life of me remember why I would have put it in a Ziplock bag and stashed it at the foot of my bed. Did I knock over a lemonade stand? Hold up a Girl Scout selling cookies? I rarely carry much cash, preferring to put even small purchases on a credit or debit card, so what was it for?
Eventually I gave up trying to figure it out, and decided to put it in the bank. Maybe I will treat myself to something pretty with my new-found wealth later this week. And by "pretty" I mean get the oil and brakes changed on my car.
I suppose there are worse mysteries to have... like finding a big bag with a severed monkey head stashed at the foot of your bed... so I'm trying hard not to complain...
But still, it sure would be nice if I could remember stuff like this.
If somebody could help me with this monkey on my back, that would be great...
Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could buy a Deadly Ninja Attack Monkey to unleash upon my enemies.*
*And by "enemies" I mean dumbasses ahead of me driving 10 miles under the speed limit in a 25mph zone. WTF?!?
Another Bullet Sunday. Another desperate scramble to get a blog entry written so I can attack another item on my to-do list...
• ACTA. To say that I am disappointed in the Obama Administration for their draconian secrecy surrounding the "Anti-Counterfeiting Trade Agreement" is an understatement. I am thoroughly disgusted. So much for "transparency in government." The potential for misuse of ACTA is truly frightening, and yet nobody seems to care. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Not that I'd expect anything better from a McCain Administration, but Obama is the one who made all those transparency promises.
• United Kingdom. Tomorrow I'll be making lanyards for the meet-ups in London and Edinburgh... so time is running out to get on the list! If you're going to be in London on Saturday, March 21st or Edinburgh on Tuesday, March 24th, please email Dave Spice ASAP! (my email address is in the sidebar)...
• Blogiversary. The economy woes are really wrecking havoc with the plans I've got going for my kick-ass Blogiversary VI Celebration coming this April. One company raised their prices substantially mid-way through development. Another company who was working on what would have been my most favorite prize item ever disappeared off the face of the earth this past week. I was concerned when emails and phone calls stopped being returned. I was worried when the phone was disconnected. But I was freaking out when I finally made contact with a neighboring business and was told that the offices had been abandoned. The deposit I made to start the project was relatively small, so losing my money isn't my major concern. No, coming up with something new to replace it is the thing that troubles me. It's crushing to have your dreams dashed by factors outside your control.
• Postcard. Ooh! My postcard from Lynne arrived! And it's got a cool Orang Utan on it...
• Bailed. Am I the only one who thinks that somebody needs to be shot in the balls every time I hear the word "bailout" and "executive bonuses" in the same sentence? Seriously... shotgun to the fucking testicles (or ovaries, for the XY-challenged).
And now it's time to get back to work for a few hours. My time until takeoff to the United Kingdom is rushing by...
It's raining today, and I don't mind at all...
I stopped taking all the pain medication I was prescribed because my kidney stone has apparently disappeared. This is a real mystery and has me wondering where the heck it went, but I'm so happy that I'm finding it hard to care. Unless, of course, it is just hiding somewhere temporarily and comes back again. The sneaky bastard.
The problem is that the medication was masking the daily aches and pains that I usually have from my joint problems, and now they've all come back. This is a major bummer, and has given me an entirely new appreciation of drug addiction. Who wouldn't want to have a pain-free life, after all?
Of course, given how shitty "life" is now-a-days, I've also been given an entirely new appreciation of alcoholism. Who wouldn't want to live oblivious to all the world's fucked-up problems, after all?
Of course, given that it's difficult to hold a job when you're popping pills and drowning in alcohol, I've also been given an entirely new appreciation of gambling addiction. Who wants to work when they can just win money for free, after all?
Of course, given all that drinking, drug-abuse, and gambling, I've also been given an entirely new appreciation for Depends Brand Adult Diapers. Who wants to haul their drunk, drugged-up, broke ass off the sofa to go to the bathroom, after all?
So the next time you see me hanging around in a diaper all stoned, drunk, and begging for cash, well... now you know why...
It's because I want my life to be perfect and pain-free.
And how can this be? For he is the Kwisatch Haderach!
This will probably only make sense to six people on earth. Sorry about that.
The first time I became aware of Wayne Hall was when he left a rambling yet funny comment on an entry back in March of 2006. I think I might have made a token visit or two to his site after that, but didn't really check out his blog for reals until May of that same year. His comments were always so witty that I pretty much had to check out his blog.
So I went to The Blog of Whall, saw a joke that kinda offended me, then left. I figured that if this was indicative of what Wayne wrote about on his own site, that it probably wasn't for me. Life's too short and all that.
But eventually Whall kind of grew on me, so I finally got to a place where I could read his blog without screaming. I just tried to ignore his more political-oriented stuff and it was all good. After all, not only is Wayne highly entertaining, but he totally loves me, and was plugging Blogography all the time (like here and here and here). This showed that, despite his "whallitics," he at least had good taste in blogs.
Since that time Wayne has become a good friend because, even with our vast... mind-bogglingly vast... political differences, we're more alike than different, which is pretty much how I find people to be all over the world. So when Mr. Hall asked me to guest-post for him while he was on vacation, how could I refuse?
Go check out an all-new episode of The Blogography Show over at whall.org!
If you're interested in a little "behind-the-scenes" action on how the guest-post came together, I've put that in an extended entry...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
After publishing a behind-the-scenes peek at how I created Avitable's Halloween Party shirt, I received a number of requests asking me to do something like that again. The problem is that the vast majority of the work I do outside Blogography simply can't be posted because of confidentiality agreements, copyright ownership, publishing royalties, and all kinds of other messy business. But every once in a while I get a fun assignment where the client doesn't mind me posting the details, so here we go again.
A while back, longtime Blogography reader Jon Whitby wrote asking if he could hire me to create a logo for the baseball team that his law-firm sponsors. Unfortunately, I was on my way to Dave York just then, but he was okay with waiting until I got back. There was a few days window before I had to get started on TequilaCon stuff, so the biggest hurdle... finding room in my schedule... had been cleared.
Corporate logo design is a long and complicated road that often involves numerous meetings and dozens of revisions. But fun logo design work like Jon was requesting is pretty straightforward. It was also fairly easy because he knew exactly what he wanted...
Two minutes of sketching, and this is what I had to start from...
A few tough spots became immediately apparent...
I ended up dropping the glasses and put some rounded eyes in there instead (I decided that I would create a second version with more menacing eyes, just in case I went a little too cartoony). My revisions set, I imported my sketch into Adobe Illustrator and drew a boundary circle to work around...
If you're interested in seeing what happens next, I've put the rest of the story (along with the finished design) in an extended entry...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
There are days I would give almost anything to have Pizza Hut delivery in my small town...
I hate Microsoft Windows.
I really, really, really, hate Microsoft Windows Vista.
And it's not because I'm a Mac Whore, or Bill Gates kicked my puppy, or I was attacked by Steve Balmer in a fit of monkey-induced rage... it's simply because Microsoft Windows Vista sucks ass. It is the steaming pile of shit upon which computer users beg for death. Every single time I use a PC running Vista, I have some kind of stupid problem which makes me enter a thermonuclear rage.
Fortunately, I don't have to use Vista very often. Otherwise, I would need to be institutionalized.
What pisses me off is that when Microsoft finally fixes their bullshit, I'm going to have to shell out more money to get the "Windows 7" upgrade. That is really fucked up. Microsoft should have to pay ME to upgrade as compensation for having to deal with their crap OS all this time...
To see all of the Lil' Dave Mac vs. Lil' Wayne PC ads, click here!
And speaking of PC (as in Political Correctness), what the heck is going on over at Comedy Central? This morning I wanted to check out clips from Russell Brand's upcoming DVD, so I went to their "video section." I got distracted by a new email while the video was buffering, only to see a black man dancing around while eating fried chicken when I clicked back to Comedy Central again. Horrified at such a racist stereotype being offered up as "comedy," I immediately clicked to a different video link.→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
When you are following a car that's weaving dow