My (fucking) theory.

I have this theory. Think of any song you can that contains the word "love". I know, it's hard to think of a song about love, I'll give you a minute...


Ok.
Now sing that song in your head, replacing all instances of the word "love" with the word "fuck".
I bet the song sounds funnier now.
Of course, sometimes it makes no sense ("hello, I fuck you", "fuck to fuck you baby") and some are just plain wrong ("Jesus fucks the little children") but for the most part, The song becomes completely hilarious. It's my version of the "in bed" thing for fortune cookies.

Newness

I just started a new photographic web log (shortened to photoblog, and then further shortened to the inevitable and stupid "plog".)

Here it is. Bookmark it - visit it - love it.

It's going to be a photo, and maybe a small caption or musing of some kind. I'll try to post every day.
Oh, and it's on wordpress instead of blogger, just to be silly.

*GASP!*

So here is the story of my sleep apnea.

I did my sleep study, the guy who monitored me said I'd need a CPAP for sure.
I went to a respiratory equipment provider and got my CPAP, and they said I had a really severe case of sleep apnea. one of them said it was the worst case she'd ever seen. I'm thinking - oh great, I'm gonna be famous for how little I breathe...
I take the thing home - it looks like a "scentstories", by the way - and the first night, I sleep like a baby. Scratch that. I have babies, I know how they sleep - for 3 hours and they wake up crying. I slept great. Probably the best sleep I've ever had. Although I apparently kept yanking the headgear off because I remember waking up 4 or 5 times to put it back on. The experience of wearing this thing is a bit odd. You know those air hoses at the gas station? Imagine if those had a soft rubber tip, and you stuck it in your nose, and were expected to sleep. You get used to it, though.
So, there is this thing called the apnea/hypopnea index. It's how many times per hour you have an apnea or hypopnea event. An apnea is when you stop breathing altogether for at least 10 seconds, and hypopnea is when your airway is partially obstructed, causing your airflow to drop by at least half. At 5 you are considered to have sleep apnea. at 15 most insurance covers getting a CPAP. at 50 it's considered severe. I scored 129. in 3 hours of sleep, I had over 400 hypopnea events, and I forget how many apnea events. I was neurologically aroused by those events over 200 times in those 3 hours. Let me say that again:
I woke up over 200 times in 3 hours.
At one point my oxygen saturation dropped to 67%.
So the guy woke me up and strapped me into a CPAP, and I had like 14 hypopnea events in the next 3 hours, and my oxygen never got below 90%, and I woke up like 12 times, and 10 of those were in the first 20 minutes of sleep. Get this - My apnea/hypopnea index went down to 6. This means that even on a CPAP at apparently a really high pressure, I've still got minor sleep apnea.
A word on the air pressure: My machine goes from 12 to 20, as far as pressure. Apparently, the numbers mean how many centimeters of water that pressure will displace. Mine's set at 17. Well, now it's set at 12, and I have to take it in to get it set up a little at a time because starting that high would apparently suck for me.
So, every night for the foreseeable future I'm going to have to strap on this weird thing that looks like SCUBA gear, and sleep while it blows high-pressure air in my nose and down my throat. But it's worth it. Sleep is actually restful now. Think about this: I essentially got no rest at all when I slept. I was nearly always either gasping for air or not breathing at all. My oxygen levels were always low, my blood pressure was always elevated, I was at risk for stroke and all kinds of other nasty things. I could sleep for 16 hours and not feel at all rested. I woke up almost every day with a headache. I NEVER entered deep sleep. Now I sleep for 7 hours and feel refreshed and renewed. I no longer wake up and sit in a daze for 2 hours, feeling groggy and wishing I could have gotten more sleep. I actually could have died in my sleep!
I think it's worth it.

CFL SUCKS!

So I went and bought a 6-pack of "100 watt" CFL bulbs. They're actually 26 watts, which is why I got 'em. We're wanting to replace bulbs in some of the oft-used lamps in the house.
Guess what.
CFL SUCKS!
The base of the bulb is too big, and the bulb won't screw in to our torchierelamps. And I'm guessing they won't screw into most other lamps like that, either. So our options are thus:
We use incandescent bulbs, or we use a less bright cfl. Here's some other news about cfl bulbs:

They have all the negatives of fluorescent light, like the bad color rendition, flicker, warm-up time, poor response in cold weather, that sort of thing.
They don't fit in all kinds of fixtures. Not just the torchiere style - our ceiling fan in the living room doesn't have a globe because the CFL in it is too long.
They contain toxic levels of mercury. Yeah - they're also poisonous. You can't just throw them away when they burn out - they have to be disposed of in a facility designed to take care of things like that - and we don't have any of those facilities around here. And when they break, it's toxic cleanup time!
Speaking of burning out - they don't last nearly as long as they say. 3-5 years my ass. I've seen lifespans equating with incandescents, for the most part.

Just as an aside - we actually had to abandon this room for a while tonight - while I was working on this post - because I broke one of those little fuckers trying to put it in a lamp. Great.
CFL SUCKS!

The Sleeper Awakes. A Lot.

I had a sleep study last night. Basically, I went and slept in the hospital with a couple dozen wires glued to my head, and some guy watched me sleep. Halfway thru the night, he woke me up and strapped a CPAP mask to my face, so now I was expected to sleep with a couple dozen wires glued to my head and a tube blowing air into my nose. I slept like a baby. The tech who monitored me told me in the morning that I probably wake up 400-600 times a night. And here I thought I was hard to wake up. So I wound up having what is called a "split night" study, with a normal polysomnograph at the first half, and a CPAP Titration at the second half. I need a lot of pressure, apparently. I know I woke up at 5am and the mask was loose, and every time I breathed out it would fart in my eye - but when I tried to breathe thru my mouth it felt like I was choking. So a fun night. And now I'm gonna wind up wearing a big silly looking mask when I sleep.

There are things.

There are things people do in life that matter.
A man named Pablo is the reason why, when you say the word "Picasso", nobody goes "Which one?" He mattered. His name mattered. It had better. it was 2 miles long. Seriously.
Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Martyr Patricio Clito Ruiz Y Picasso.
Seriously.
That's a baby with indecisive parents.

There are things people do in life that don't matter.
Like this guy.

There are things people do in life that make total sense.
Martin Luther King Jr., for example. This is a man who knows what he's doing.

There are things people do in life which make no sense at all.
Like this.

What I'm trying to say is: I'm tired and can't come up with anything funny to post, so I cheated by linking to stuff.

Oh, and check out Mr. Picassohead.

Happy new post day!

So check out my new badass template. I searched the whole world over and found this one, written in spanish or some shit. I like the whole skull theme, so I may keep it a while. of course, this will mean nothing here in a couple months when I change it again, but whatever.

And yes, this qualifies as a new post.

Dear Every tech support place in the world:

If you are ALWAYS experiencing higher than normal call volume - isn't that higher volume your normal call volume? I understand that Sully the tech support guy has an active schedule, but At least just say "we're all busy" instead of "we're busier than we expected and also we're cheap and understaffed even though we're only paying those Pakistani suckers 18 cents an hour."

A clarification

Having sex with a corpse doesn't make you a necrophiliac - enjoying it does.

Happy leap day!

It's that time again! Leap day!
Yay!
uh. that's about it.
Happy lost day.

Maybe I'm broken.

I just found out that I've got Anisocoria. It's a condition where one of your pupils is larger than the other. By pupils I mean the ones in the eye, not the ones in a class. Just clearing that up. I also learned I have the Photic Sneeze Reflex. I always thought that if you had that feeling where you really really need to sneeze but can't - just look at a bright light, and you'd sneeze. A reflection on the road, headlights, the sun - whatever. it just sets me off and makes me sneeze. Apparently that's a genetic abnormality that like 25% of the population has.

So I'm a mutant.

And I reproduced.

I'M GONNA HAVE LITTLE MUTANT BABIES!!!!!!

Granted, they've got a small chance of inheriting my minor abnormalities that don't affect me in any way, but still.
I actually think the sneezing one is a boon. I mean, don't you really hate it when you have to sneeze but can't? So do I, only I can do something about it. Ha ha ha. Consider it my other superpower.

Cats are strange.

Go find yourself a 100,000 square foot warehouse, empty.
Place an ordinary sheet of paper somewhere on the floor.
Lock a cat in the warehouse.
Come back 20 minutes later, and the cat will be sitting on the paper.

I don't get this behavior. I thought it might have something to do with a cat's need to be as high as possible, but a cat will often forgo a higher perch in favor of a magazine or some paper or your jacket or some cellophane from a dvd you just bought.
I don't get it. I just thought I'd put it out there.

Britney

Gimme more baby one more time. I'm not a girl, not yet a woman, I'm a slave 4 U. Girl in the mirror? Toxic. Ooh Ooh baby e-mail my heart from the bottom of my broken heart. That's where you take me, I run away before the goodbye. Let me be outrageous, I can't get no satisfaction. Don't let me be the last to know why I should be sad, freakshow. I was born to make you happy - get naked, I got a plan. Breathe on me, I got that boom boom, perfect lover. Early mornin touch of my hand - oops! I did it again.


the preceding was constructed entirely out of britney spears song titles.

A rose by any other name would smoke as sweet.

So we went to the big city for an Ob/Gyn thing for the twins, got an ultrasound, and found out everybody was healthy and great. I have another blog for that. On there, I wax poetic and gleefully report the minutiae of every trip to the doctor. I also keep it at least PG-rated, since like, normal people read it.
This is not that blog.
So we had a good time, went to drive home, and I wanted to stop somewhere and buy coffee. We stopped at a gas station in a sort of seedy area. I went in, crawled thru the store getting a cup of coffee, and a coke for Rebecca. While waiting in line I saw, in the case where they keep the trucker's speed, some "glass roses". I thought "hey, neat! a tiny rose in glass!" I have a thing about buying Rebecca roses in every variation that exists. If I see a rose made from a twisted-up coke can or something, I'll buy it. So I bought it. I get out to the car and shuck the box so I can present her with it. I pull it out and my thought process goes like this: "that's kinda pretty. Hey - why is there a hole up here by the head of the rose? Why is this hole in... this crack pipe?" This is when I suddenly realized that
I accidentally bought my pregnant wife a crack pipe.
It was a rose, alright - a little cheap one so they could sell crack pipes in gas stations. You're supposed to throw the rose away and place drugs in where the head of the flower was. I thought I was doing something nice. I thought I would surprise her with a little gift. Instead
I accidentally bought my pregnant wife a crack pipe.
I don't know how to describe the feeling I got. I really don't. I wonder if hallmark has a card for that? "To my understanding wife: I'm sorry I accidentally bought you a crack pipe. Had I known it was drug paraphernalia, You have to know I would have gone for the pencil holder instead." Other than that, and the baby stuff, it was a pretty uneventful trip. We went to the city, got an ultrasound, talked to the doctor, got soft pretzels, didn't see a *$, and oh yeah
I accidentally bought my pregnant wife a crack pipe.
Sorry, baby.

...and Jim Morrison's corpse hits 180 rpm.

I just Piratized© a copy of Ministry's latest (and apparently last) album, titled "The Last Sucker". It's got a cover of "Roadhouse Blues" by the doors on it. A hardcore industrial thrash cover of a doors classic. My brain is afraid and trying to escape my skull.

BUZZ!

(note that I use the symbol *$ a few times. The first part is a star. figure it out.)
I don't know if you personally (by you I mean you, the reader - not you, the baby hedgehog or you the surrealist purple floating firetruck-headed bride) have ever had espresso, but I have, many times, and I feel I need to discuss them here. What are you gonna do about it? Huh? You gonna try and stop me? Yeah... I didn't think so. You keep walking, punk.

Anyway.

First things first:
THERE IS NO X IN THE WORD. STOP SAYING IT THAT WAY.
I don't mind so much when Mr. John D. Maxwell House says "expresso", but when the dude at *$ says it... shameful. And you call yourself a barista. The hell you are, sir. Now pull me a doppio ristretto, and no, I don't need a lid.
Moving on.
The espresso is perhaps the perfect coffee beverage. It is the essence of coffee, stripped of all the accoutrements that usually accompany coffeehouse drinks. No sugary syrup, no milk, no nutmeg sprinkles, no leaf drawn in the foam - just the coffee, the cup, and you. In Italy, when an Italian orders a caffe, they get espresso. When an American orders one, they get an Americano, which is an espresso cut with an equal amount of hot water, because Americans are coffee wusses. I've had chicory-laced bilious swill made in a tin pot on a campfire, and I've had a caffe macchiato pulled by an expert at a college town coffee house. I bought a meat thermometer for the sole purpose of getting my steamed milk to 165 degrees Fahrenheit to achieve the optimal sweetness inherent in steamed milk. I aspire to home-roast green coffee beans. I'd say I am somewhat of a coffee aficionado. Thru my travels in the wild world of coffee, I'd have to say that the espresso, above all others, is as close to coffee perfection as one can get. Even the way the espresso is made is perfection. Take finely ground coffee, force steam thru it under pressure. Longer extraction time produces the lungo, which has more volume, but less strength. Less extraction time produces the ristretto, which is the perfect shot, with the most perfect essence of the coffee bean in a cup. I say all this because I just got back from *$ with an espresso and a drip-brewed coffee. They were beverages born of the same beans, but the espresso just embraced the qualities of the coffee. the espresso is making love to the coffee bean, while the drip-brew is merely having some cheap fun with it. On a side note - those percolators? Coffee bean rapists. They leave the bean feeling used, violated, and alone. And the poor souls who drink it are worse off.
In any case. If you like coffee and have never had the pleasure of a real espresso - go get one. If you can't drink coffee without french vanilla creamer and 8 sugars and a cinnamon sprinkle and a peppermint stick, or if you don't enjoy coffee, but rather view it as a tool to help you wake up in the morning - don't go get an espresso, because it will taste like boiled ass.

By God...

If I hear one more song about how far away Nashville is with a guitar on your back - I'm gonna burn the damn thing down.

YIKES!

So, Rebecca has a prescription for Clindamycin, and I was looking at the wikipedia entry for it and discovered that it can lead to a condition called

TOXIC MEGACOLON.

I just don't know what else to say. Never in my life have I heard a more dire sounding name for a medical condition. I just can't fathom how much it much suck to not only have a megacolon, but a toxic one at that. I also think it would be a great name for a band.
Just YIKES!

While I'm on the subject: I can think of a medical condition with a name so horribly humiliating that no person afflicted with it will ever repeat the name of their condition in public. A condition that somebody really ought to come up with a proper medical-sounding name for. It's called micropenis. I don't know if I would include something like that on my medical history, y'know? That's like having Shitonyourselfitis or Dangling Nipple or Severe Chronic Crotch Odor or Hooker's Knee or Pusface or something. Shouldn't they call it Phallodwarfism or Diminutive Reproductive System Disorder or something suitably Doctor-y?
They have a name for my disorder, too. It's called Jumbocock. I have to get my pants altered.

Titanium Spork!

Check it out!

More baby pics!

This is a picture of one of our babies. Taken today. Rebecca's at 11 weeks this week. The one above was up front on top, and apparently trying out for Riverdance. I've named this one "Jazzercise". The other baby, who we didn't get any good pictures of, was asleep on the floor of the uterus and behind his/her brother/sister. That one only moved when Dr. Northcutt smacked it in the head with the ultrasound probe. I've named that one "Eeyore".
It's just amazing how happy people are capable of getting. When Rebecca told me she was pregnant, I grinned from ear-to-ear. When I learned it was twins, I started vibrating. Today, seeing them squirm around and looking less like little white blobs and more like little people - I started floating. So imagine what I'll look like next month when we go back. I'll be grinning from ear-to-ear, vibrating, floating, and - hell, I''ll probably have rainbows shooting out of my ass.

Dark Side Of The Moon

So, I went and set up my camera last night to see the total eclipse of the hear- I mean moon. And I got some nice shots, I think. Problem is - the moon is a moving target. I had the choice of getting a darkish image that was sharp or a bright image that was blurred. I tried to get a happy medium. Oh yeah, and I couldn't focus for shit, given that I was in near complete darkness taking pictures of a dark thing in a dark sky. Pretty pics, tho. Above is a shot taken before the moon reached totality, including a nice flare - and below is a shot taken well into the dark dark shadow of our earth.

This is an ultrasound we had done a couple days ago. Notice the plural "babies" and the 2 (two) white blobs. Those white blobs are our 7 week old (probably identical) twin babies! WHEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
I honestly can't think of when I've been happier. Not even the time I fell in the white goo vat at the twinkie factory can compare to this. Not even when, after crawling out of the goo, I was licked clean by a thousand golden lab puppies, compares.
I am wicked super hella mondo stoked. Total awesomeness has been achieved.

"You sing funny"

So we went to a concert.
Went and saw "Weird Al" Yankovic. The show was amazing. I don't think I've ever been that entertained at a concert. The man must have the stamina of a horse - he did 15 minute medleys, had costume changes between almost every song (and in a couple cases he had multiple costume changes during a song) and he did a 10 minute song (my favorite - "Albuquerque") as an encore. All this was interspersed by these weird vignettes on the video screen behind him - faked interviews, random bits of tv, any mention of Al on movies or tv shows...
I'm not gonna post a concert review, but suffice it to say I loved it, and will go to any show he puts on near us again.
Oh yeah, and I met him before the show. he's cool.

Stupid, stupid windows.

Another of those really really dumb things microsoft put into their various windows products:
In windows server 2003, if you get the properties of a device in device manager, then try to close device manager - windows politely informs you to close all device property panels before closing the device manager. It does this by opening a click-to-close box, over the property panel - instead of just closing the panel for you, or heaven forbid just leave the damn thing open and do what you ask.
I used to postulate that the device manager should have a button marked "I don't have that" that you could click to permanently and completely remove a device from your system. If you looked at device manager in windows 95 or 98, you would likely see 3 or 4 monitors, every modem that has ever been within 10 feet of your desk, the scanner your brother brought over one time... tons of stuff you just don't have - but for some reason, when you remove them - they come back. Windows needed to have those ghost devices there, for reasons unknown to you, and refused to leave them dead. The "I don't have that" button would be for those devices.
Ok, done now.

P.S.
I installed a 2 computer network this past week. No big deal, except that both computers were in these big heavy computer hutches. I officially declare my hate of computer hutches here and now. Don't get me wrong - I like the things. I just hate installing and maintaining computers in them. I had to saw half the back off of mine to fit my 21" monitor in it, and I had to completely unhook my computer in order to slide it out to install a network card. I hate 'em.

magic

Once in a while, you get a great photo from an unusual place. I took an out-of-focus shot of one of those fibre optic laps, and got this gorgeous thing.
It's my desktop wallpaper now.

This is the title of the post.

MY HANDS TASTE LIKE GRAPE!

You may ask yourself

And you may ask yourself - "who is that gorgeous child?"
That's me. I took some of my childhood pics (up to age 4, I think), scanned 'em, and got me a random image loader script. Now you'll see one of 12 images of me as a lad above my blog content. I don't know what the random person might think of these, but I wanted to add something personal without being *too* personal.

day people

As a "night person" I have faced this issue a lot in my life: If you work or stay awake during the night, people who spent that time sleeping think you are lazy for sleeping during the day. I've worked graveyard shift, and been woken up at 10 am by somebody who slept for 10 hours and was expecting me to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after 3 hours of sleep. I don't get it. if I work 9 to 5, just like you - only mine is 9pm to 5am - why can't I sleep during your 9 to 5?

concert surrealism

So I went and saw a Billy Joel concert. The weirdest part of it (other than the fact that I liked it) was when his roadie, Chainsaw, performed a religious song to give Mr. Joel a potty break.

Randomosity

Here's a series of random things.
I type this as Rum Tum Tugger is introduced on the cats dvd my fiance is watching.
I want a gas-powered skateboard.
Here's how silly string works.
A bus.
The dirtiest video ever.
Parakeet.

Cripes I'm lazy!

Yeah, so... been a while. What've you been doing? Not much here, ya know, same old thing. Your dad still into those trains?

Yeah so it's been awhile.

Anyway, You ever notice how cats have this sort of precognitive walking ability? I mean, every cat I've ever known has had the remarkable ability to walk in front of me, anticipating my moves. If I'm, say, moving a piece of furniture - the cat can sense where I need to set it down and will go there and meow at me. Do they go to a school to learn how to be underfoot or something? If I'm going to the kitchen - that's where they were going. If I'm going to the bathroom - of course they were planning on enjoying some fresh cool toilet water. This is why I like dogs. A dog will walk next to you or behind you, in case you drop any food.

Excuse Our Mess.

I finally decided to upgrade my blog to the new system. My readers (both of them) will notice some new stuff, like the new template (which will change at my whim) and the tags. I have to manually tag all my posts, and some of them might end up with 3 or 4 tags - so it's going to be an ongoing process. When the tagging process is complete, you'll be able to sort by tag, so you read only posts dealing with alpacas or britney spears, if such is your desire, you sick fucker. Anyway, this post here is the first one I will give the tag of "upkeep". the "upkeep" tag will be applied to all the posts dealing with blog upgrades, downtime, and so on. I'll post and describe what all my tags mean once I'm finished. Here's a tag that isn't intuitive, and as such needs explained now: brain farts. Brain farts are the weird little random posts that serve no purpose and inform of nothing. If I just get the weird urge to say "mexican belt!" or something, I'll tag that one a "brain fart" Anyway, Enjoy.

I've got the no-talent blues

Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, and Brooke Hogan are examples of a truism: fame can make up for talent. You don't need to be able to sing - protools can fix that. If you are famous and want to make an album - no problem, go make it, and sit back and collect the money from the platinum sales of your horrible crap, laughing at all the musicians with real talent who struggle for 10 years and can't get their demo listened to.
By the way - what the fuck is Paris Hilton famous for, exactly? I mean - she acts, sings, models, has a perfume line - but all of that came as a result of her fame. So what made her famous in the first place? What does she do? It's a death-knell for human civilization when somebody can be a real, honest-to-god celebrity just because they party a lot and have a rich dad.

word of the moment: Schlock. It's when something is utterly without value, like that Paris Hilton autographed cd you'll get 35 cents for 2 years from now on ebay.

My sweet love.

My fiancé bought me, among other things, a subscription to architectural digest, and another one to mental floss. She also got me a book on Salvador Dali. I love her so much. It's exactly what I would have gotten for myself, if I was buying a gift for me, which I do all the time, only I usually buy Twinkies or some Gold by the inch.

Wisdom from a 6-year-old.

History is moving.

Hey everyody! It's a -

MEXICAN BELT!

It's almost poetic.

Last night, our 8-week-old miniature pinscher was viciously attacking a heart-shaped pillow - while simultaneously humping it. There has got to be an anecdote in there somewhere.

Wear a condom to Hollywood.

Kevin Federline proves that fame is a sexually transmitted disease.

extra-fancy

So somebody told me to update This Old Blog (hosted by Bob Vila's brother, Wheela). He said something to the effect of "perhaps you should think about updating that blog of yours, as it seems to be gathering a bit of dust." Actually, he said "Update your blog, fucker." but I got the general meaning.
Anyway.
I decided that yeah, I have been more than sporadic as of late, and I was kinda getting tired of the design anyway, so I used my L33T HTML skillz and clicked the button for this new template I'm using. I've resolved myself to be more on-point with the updating, so stay tuned. Also note that I've been on here since september of 2000 and I've got like 200 posts to look at, so go there, too.

link of the moment: Just for old times' sake, the llama song.
word of the moment: engaged and let's just leave it at that, shall we? You could say I was... engaged in a relationship with someone and that we were... engaged to be married at some poi- crap, I gave it away, didn't I?

Just a note:

Dairy products + Neck = Bad

Willy and Me

I got me one of those everlasting gobstoppers, and I have to say, I am sorely disappointed. For one, it lasted maybe 10-15 minutes - hardly "everlasting". 10-15 minutes is only forever is you're 5 years old. And another thing - it didn't stop my gob. At no point did I feel any appreciable decrease in gob activity during or after the consumption of this so called gobstopper. Now, I have used the GobArrest line of products before, and the GobArrest60 fully stops my gob for almost 3 full months. Now I realize GobArrest is by prescription only (I know a guy who knows a guy), but surely the wonka people could come up with an OTC strength gob cessation aid. I thought at first this had to be false advertising, but perhaps they meant that rather than the candy lasting forever, that it stopped gobs forever? Well, no, since it doesn't even slow gobs down. So what is it, then? I thought maybe they were using metaphor, like the northern Minnesota phrase "you sure stopped my gob!" but then I thought - wonka is a subsidiary of nestle, which is based in Switzerland, and since most of northern Minnesota is of Norwegian decent, and since "gob" means something totally different in Swiss and Norwegian... It's just false advertising. It's that damn willy's fault anyway. I was on a tour of his factory once, and got my head stuck in the door of the great glass elevator (yeah, I was that kid), and they had to shut down the tours because the thing was found to be a hazard. See, those oompa-loompas are great singers, and they can make a mean chocolate bar, but they can't turn a wrench for crap. Willy contracted out all the work for the factory and got the oompas to take care of things, but he never realized that the entire race is mechanically inept. Anyway, my point is that they should put a warning label on those things, because now I've got this hyperactive gob, and a powerful sweet tooth, and if I had known - I would bought more than just the one.

Just for the record.

I'd just like to let any person or persons who are old friends of yours truly that my current email address is conveniently located over there in the "view complete profile" link. See, I can only communicate on a certain level within the confines of this page, and I don't currently know the whereabouts, electronic or physical, of said person or persons.

word of the moment: obfuscate, which is a term defining the way in which one might or might not go about getting around a point wherein that aforementioned person might or might not wish the full scope of aforementioned point to get across to a second party, vis-a-vis the current arrangement, insomuch as second skype nadir belarus cuomo, fanbase excelsior perambulating cromulent.

Wisdom.

Confucius say: when everything feel sticky - wash hands.

fast music!

so, yeah, it's been a while.
whatever.
I want you all to go to crap art and listen to the An Album A Day project.
Basically, you write, perform, record and produce an album inside of 24 hours. It really opens up the creative abilities. It also shows the lazy people who just record 20 minutes of noise or screaming. If I were you, I'd track down the albums made by Tom 7, who is the crap art guy. He makes what I consider to be the best albums on the site, and he's made 19 of them as of this post, so there's a lot to listen to. Yeah, so go listen to that stuff. I'll catch you later.

Honest Lies.

I lie.
I tell mistruths.
I lie all the time, for lots of reasons. Sometimes I'll lie to somebody just because it's funny to watch somebody try to process the total bullshit I just fed them.

I am a bullshit artist.
Sarcasm is my canvas and bullshit is my medium.

I don't lie to hurt people, or to make them feel better about themselves. I lie to freak people out. Nothing cranks my gears more than seeing smoke come out of someone's ears after I just told them I own a car that runs on dryer lint and deer antlers.

music of the moment: phish doing a live cover of pink floyd's "money", well.

word of the moment: baculum - and I wonder if that quantum leap guy knows his last name means dick bones? (note: he will always be that quantum leap guy to me, because I only watched enough of the first episode of enterprise to get my window open, so I could throw the tv thru it.)

link of the moment:stumbleupon. I consider this to be an indispensable browser tool. I've used it for years to get lots of my weirdass links.

Today's moral dilemma:

ok, you don't know how it got there, who it belongs to or how long it has been there - all you know is that you are all alone in the bathroom and you see it.

But:

Would you pick up and take a 10 dollar bill that was lying in a pool of urine?

What if it was a hundred?
What if you heard a guy walking out of the bathroom just before you giggling and saying "nobody'll ever pick *that* up"

Things like this are what I think about when I oughta be paying attention to the road.

looooong

so, here's the longest run-on sentence I've seen:
take a deep breath first.

music of the moment: "Hands around my throat" by death in vegas. death is vegas is cool. you like death in vegas.

word of the moment:Obligato, which is something that just has to be in. like if you were some vanguard composer, and your opus just wouldn't be complete without the 14 minute Aeolian harp solo, you'd mark it obligato.

Here's some stuff.

Just to keep you occupied, and because I'm tired but still want to post - here's some totally random stuff:

High Speed Video, that is, video shot at very high speeds, then played at normal video speed - the end effect being super-dooper slomo. I've never seen such a large collection of videos of this type, and some of these are cool enough that it made me want to buy one of those camera systems. Turns out they're fancy-restauraunt expensive, by which I mean you can't find out how much it costs until you try to buy it. They expect people buying these to submit expense summaries to accounting, and purchase justification letters to management.

wotm today's word of the moment has the longest non-run-on sentence I've ever seen - and I've seen a lot of 'em.

Simulated sales.

I just saw that there is now a "sims complete" box for sale in wal*place. wanna know what my first thought was when I saw it?
did I think

• Wow, about time!


• Man, that's both convenient and efficient!


• I bet that takes up a ton of hard drive space.


• I wonder why they waited so long...

I didn't think any of those things, at first.
No, the first thing I thought was:
Maxis is a bunch of greedy bastards.
They're sucking the last tiny drops of profit from a title that should be ages-dead by now. I'm aware the sims is a great game, but it's been surpassed by the sims 2. and the sims 2 is about to get a THIRD expansion pack. so they decide to push all 7 expansion packs, and the original game, into one box and sell it for 40 bucks, like it's a new game. Well, they already tried that a few months ago when they released the expansion packs in 2 packs. you merely had to spend 20 bucks 4 times and have the whole thing. and before that, there were the "sims ultra mega super wowee deluxo big fat edition" which had 4 expansion packs, and then one before that with 3, then 2 then 1. I bought the sims when it came out, between my friends and I we bought 4 of the expansion packs before one of us realized we had spent over a hundred dollars on a goddamned game.
They're doing it again. I have decided, officially, that I will no longer buy any sims 2 expansion packs. I bought "nightlife", the second pack, and it came with a slip of paper advertizing the goddamned third expansion pack. an expansion pack is supposed to be just that - EXPANSION. this filler crap they keep putting out with one or 2 minor features has pushed me past my limit. Rugs. The second pack introduced the amazing new rug. yeah, sims had that in one of the packs. They released sims 2 wih what feels like a pretty limited amount of stuff. So of course you have to buy all the "expansion" packs, which contain the rest of the game content that they should have put in the game in the first place, and you end up paying 200 bucks for a game you paid 50 bucks for. Neat trick, but I can see the wires, and I ain't buying it.

music of the moment: "can't truss it" by public enemy. Must be a nasty hernia if you can't truss it.

work of the moment: truss And here I thought chuck d was smart...

Truly Twisted.

Today's triumphant tongue twisting tantalizing term: tintinnabulation!
Taxing tone to that tympanic? Therein transpires tinnitus.