In other words, you should never refuse help from a weirdo wielding a pick-axe.
I was going to simply title this post "The Dream I Had Last Night In Which The Blade of a Shovel Punctured My Skull" but I decided to incorporate it into one of the latest "Things You Should Never Do".
Well, whatever. I'm getting kind of used to it. I can't even really smell it now. At all, actually. Oh well. I guess it was just my imagination.
Do you smell smoke?
Well, I've learned one important lesson: Never shop at Gamestop. The staff is rude, preoccupied, and (seemingly) deceitful. At least at the location I visit. Or used to visit once I get my money back from that pre-order.
Oh well. Maybe waiting for it has been more fun than actually having it will be. I am reminded of a quote by Oscar Wilde that I heard recently:
"There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it."
I don't know about there only being two tragedies in all of life but you get the idea. Anyway, I'll be sure to report back in case I'm fortunate enough to pick one of these machines up before my vacation (which begins December 3rd).
Seriously though, it really boils down to laziness. I've recently discovered the magic of RSS feeds (such as the one available on this website) and since I have just the news stories that I actually want to read delivered directly to my news aggregator (I love that word) I spend most of the time that I'm online reading news stories.
Since I'm on the subject of an RSS reader, let me make a suggestion. First I tried feedreader but it kept crashing my Windows98 machine. Then I tried rss reader and it was kind of bland. So I just decided to stick with the RSS Reader that is already built into Mozilla Thunderbird. I like it a lot.
Oh yeah, what was I supposed to be talking about? Oh, I'm lazy.
The end.
Aside from the obvious reason (i.e. endangering yourself), it is possible, and even likely, that the transient participants in said fight may actually want to fight until the finish. Naturally, I'm not implying that you allow one the fighters to be killed. I just propose you allow them to reach some sort of resolution. There could be a very legitimate reason for their fight. Perhaps the outcome will decide new territorial boundaries in the woods behind the furniture store. Or, maybe the winner will walk away with a (mostly)new pair of jeans.
Then again, how could you be totally sure they're homeless in the first place? They could just be rugged outdoorsmen with a score to settle. At least you can be fairly sure that they're intoxicated. I mean, I can smell them from here. Phew!
The only down side is that I don't start my new job until April. But I guess that isn't too much of a down side. I could still be sitting in the same job six months from now. Plus, I'm able to give my boss a little more than the obligatory two weeks notice. Six months is a little more than a fortnight (I've been dying to use that word).
I guess I'll post more later but right now I've got to go scoop cat feces out of a pile of perfumey sand next to my refrigerator. Delicious! Sorry I don't have more to say. Have a great night!
One last thing: This is post number 97. I'm so lazy I still haven't made it past 100 yet.
"The end justifies the means."
"At last. At long last, the transformation is complete."
"Put that gun away!"
"I never knew we had a basement!"
"I can still see it with my waking eyes."
"This ranch isn't for sale."
"I never would have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."
"How much time passed between when the spider bit your cheek and when the nest ruptured, sending dozens of spider babies crawling into your eyes and nostrils?"
"Six feet is deep enough isn't it?"
"I always thought those could fly."
"Why don't you just die?"
"Even the Amish bathe."
"Which way is up?"
"I never thought I'd see you again."
"It can smell your fear."
"Six feet is never enough. Keep digging."
"I still say that mistletoe is edible and delicious!"
"Say that again and you'll be wearing dentures."
"Where is the U.S. embassy?""I already wear dentures, so THERE!"
"MUST... ESCAPE... DIMENSIONAL... VORTEX!!"
"Thanks and you folks have a great night. By the way, I spit in your meal and I'm quitting tonight anyway."
"It's okay, I guess. It's just that I was really was going for that Cyndi Lauper look."
"Today? Why, it's Christmas day, sir!"
"Here, take my card."
"High Definition is neither."
"You do realize that was a slug, right? Just checking."
"It's your turn to flip her and check for bedsores. I'm tired of driving the forklift. I'm not even certified!"
"I stand corrected. It didn't taste very good at all. By the way, could you please call poison control?"
Apparently, various chunks, bits, etc. of rubber will suddenly populate your dryer and its exhaust tubing. A fine layer of springy powder will then line the inner casing of your dryer. This is mostly harmless except for those who are very allergic to latex. (Enjoy wearing clothes now you hyper-allergic freak!)
This is why this qualifies (however boring) as a "Thing You Should Never Do".
By the way, is it obvious that I'm simply trying to increase my post count? It is? I was trying to hide my goal, but oh well.
Well, BYE!
Deep inside, I believe this picture is doctored. I have to believe that. Otherwise, the very fabric of my sanity would disintegrate.
Anyway, "What", you may ask, "is over?" Well, I've now officially sold enough crap on eBay to cover the cost of the Xbox 360. I was kind of holding my breath since I had sold my old Vac-Man toy to someone in England and I shipped it via USPS Global Economy Parcel Post. That was mistake. The term "Global Economy Parcel Post" is actually US postal-speak for "Vomit-inducingly Long Shipping Method". I'm not exaggerating.
I shipped the aforementioned Vac-Man on August 26th and it just arrived on October 6th. I was seriously afraid that I was going to have to refund all of that poor Brit's money. Praise the Lord it finally showed up. As a side note, I had no idea that there was a toy called "Frankenbumps" that is apparently the original inspiration for the Vac-Man doll.
Hmmmm... I wonder how much a european would pay for Frankenbumps on eBay?
This is picture of a sunflower.
Have a great day!
By the way, it's still not as funny as the He-Man video that I linked to last week. That still makes me laugh out loud when I see it.
Anyway, if we don't have any luck, I'm just going to go ahead and list it on eBay. At least there I can get some more exposure (or so I think).
Have a great weekend and, by the way, if you're interested in a 1996 Dodge Caravan, driven daily, in good condition, for under $2,000 then drop me a line. Thanks!
However, it's fairly evident that I'm not going to finish this game. Let me be a little more specific: There is absolutely no way I'm going to even come close to finishing this game before Oblivion comes out. Oh well. At least I've accepted it but, here's the scary part: Oblivion is supposed to be even bigger than Morrowind (and a lot prettier). That means that I won't even complete Oblivion when it does come out but, that doesn't bother me either. Here's why: I rarely finish a videogame from beginning to end. I can only think of few in recent years that I've actually beaten.
Man, what a slacker I am! But that's minor compared to this problem: I use colons way too much. Just look at this post! It's littered with them. Sheesh! Talk about lazy!
Now I'm using exclamation points too much again. Arghhh. Well, at least I've admitted I have a problem. Now I just need to find the proper twelve step program that I can join and subsequently quit before finishing.
In case you're not aware of this, the Elder Scrolls series is famous for providing the most open-ended gameplay imaginable. You can practically do whatever you want in the world of Morrowind. You can completely ignore the main quest and still spend hundreds of hours in the game. I'd forgotten how much fun this game can be.
You might be wondering why I'm so sure I won't finish this game before Oblivion's release. Here's why: I purchased Morrowind for the Xbox when it came out in June of 2002 and I never finished it. Here it is three years later and I still want to try to finish it.
Is this perserverance? Willpower? No. There's probably one word that most people would use to describe all of this: Stupidity.
I've never denied that playing videogames is a waste of time. It ranks right up there with going to the movies, watching television, and following professional sports. All are a waste of time. But all provide a form of release or, I daresay, escapism. GASP! There I said it. I enjoy escapism from time to time. What's so bad about that? Just like the old "Cheers" theme song said:"Wouldn't you like to get away? / Sometimes you wanna go / Where everybody knows your name./ And they're always glad you came / You wanna waste sometime with us / You've got nothing better to do / Your life is so pathetic and so are you." It goes something like that except that I obviously tried to be funny.
One last thing before I close this obnoxiously boring post: In spite of all the time I spend writing about videogames this or Xbox that, I really don't spend all that much time playing games. It's just a "hobby" thanks to my "real" life. Stay tuned for more boring updates.Hmmm. Which is more important to PETA: Equal rights for all Americans or ending all forms of meat consumption in this country? I think we all know the answer to that. Maybe if there were some "whites only" restaurants that refused to serve meat, PETA would be okay with that.
In case you can't tell, I hope this completely blows up in this organization's face. Of course, it probably won't since the major media outlets won't push a story that puts PETA in a bad light. Oh well. At least PETA is showing what their priorities in this society are.
Speaking of the plural word, "storms", why are we at the letter "R"? I'm not blaming global warming (since I'm not a sworn believer like so many others that act like it is simply fact - it's not) I'm concerned about the names. Where do we go if we actually get past the letter "Z"? Do we go ahead and start using next year's list and just keep borrowing forever? If so, at some point we're going to have to cancel hurricane season. I know this is a little unorthodox, but think of all the destruction we can avoid if we just cancel hurricane season. People would have a chance to re-think things. To see what's what in their lives in relation to hurricanes. Think about it.
It worked for the NHL.
By the way, despite what you think, I'm still going to say that this is hilarious. Until next time...
Then you thought you were scaring Virginia with the way you was swirlin' and twirlin' down there but we were like, "We ain't scared. Show us what you got Ofeeya! Go 'head and knock down our housing. We ain't scared of losing our houses. Shoot. Go on with yo bad self."
So now we looking at the news and we be laughing! You like, "Guess I'm gonna go on up to New England and scare dose folks cuz they prolly scared of a big ol' hurricane." Yeah, yeah. You go on up there. You ain't scare us anyway cuz you so weak. All we wanted was some rain from you. Dat's right! We wanted something from you! Ha!
See you in six years but I bet you won't barely make it to a tropical storm then. Jus' don't forget: Virginia sent Ofeeya running. HOLLA!!
The Chow may actually eat said baby. Now, this may or may not be a proven scientific fact, but it I'm pretty sure that I heard something somewhere about a Chow eating a baby. Even if it's not a proven fact, it's still not a good idea to lather a baby in barbeque sauce whether or not you hold him/her in front of a dog.
Just so you never forget. Here are a couple images to make sure you never forget today's Things You Should Never Do:
Anyway, I find it sort of ironic that this hurricane is named "Ophelia" since in the play "Hamlet" by William Shakespeare, the character Ophelia committed suicide by drowning herself. (At least that's what happened in the movie version by Mel Gibson.) Get the connection? Hurricane = water. Ophelia, Hamlet's sister, = drowning in water. Maybe it's not so much ironic as it is an uncanny coincidence.
If you'd like to learn more about Ophelia's death in Hamlet, visit your local library and ask one of the homeless people to please get off the computer so you can look up Ophelia on the library's system. Or, you could just click here.
Have a great night!You should never drink gasoline. Its main use is as a fuel in combustible engines. In other words, it's highly flammable. Not only that, recent studies have shown that if you drink it, you've got a really good chance of dying within hours. So, once more: You should never drink gasoline.
This has been "Things You Should Never Do". Until next time, be careful out there!
Yes, I am still mad about the breakfast thing. Go ahead and laugh. Laugh your head off. I didn't think it was so funny when your nasty toe nail flew into my cereal. Thanks to you, I'll never be able to eat frosted flakes again.
Ah, now you gingerly pick up your nail clippings. If I hadn't said anything, would we be wading around this house in finger and toe nail clippings?
By the way, will you please get rid of that annoying typewriter? I know you're busy writing the next great American novel, but we do own a computer.Okay, explain to me how, exactly, a typewriter inspires you creatively. The sound. The sound!? The incessant "click click click DING SHHDOOK click click"? That's ridiculous. Well, if that's true then I guess I understand why you love to recklessly clip your nails: you're fighting writer's block!
I give up. Why do I even try? What do you want for dinner? Nah, I'm just going to have a bowl of cereal.Back on topic: I work tomorrow (Thursday) and I'm off on Friday. I'm not entirely off on Friday. I have a job interview on so I hope that goes well. I would really love to get a job that's a little closer to home. I'm sick of the forty-five minute commute, especially with the current price of gas. That's all for now I guess. I'll try to post something about how the interview goes on Friday. Right now, the main thing that's worrying me about the interview is where I'm going to park. Maybe if I focus on that, I won't have time to worry about the interview itself.
Later!
Now, this isn't something that actually bothers me but it just got me thinking that this is all due to the fact that Turner communications owns the rights (for lack of a better term) to the Flintstones. It now only shows on the Boomerang channel which is kind of a spin off of the cartoon network. I love the Boomerang network but when I was a kid, I could watch all sorts of cartoons, whether it was a weekday afternoon or Saturday morning, on over the air broadcast channels. How many kids look forward to getting up on Saturday mornings now just to watch cartoons? Now if you try to see a cartoon on a broadcast channel, it's invariably Pokemon or Digimon or some other show featuring a spikey-haired kid talking loudly. It's an insignificant change but hey, I'm being nostalgic here.
When my wife and I first got married, we lived in this apartment complex that didn't get cable from the local cable TV provider. No, they had (and still have) their own 10' satellite dish that actually received less than even the most basic cable. Oh, you could add HBO (and I hate HBO) but that was about it. You can even go to Yahoo!'s TV listings and see Westwood apartments has their own "service provider section. Check it out here.
Anyway, each morning when we were getting ready for work, we'd turn it on the TNT network and watch Scooby-Doo. This was all circa 1996. About a year or so later, no more Scooby-Doo. Scooby-Doo had gone to being shown exclusively on the Cartoon Network which we did not receive. In a sad twist of fate, we resorted to watching Chips on TNT each morning. John and Ponch served their purpose, I guess. Strangely, I don't think Chips is exclusive anywhere. And I don't even know what channel TNT is on Directv. That's how useless that network has become for me.
The bottom line is this: I love cereal but I don't like the TNT network. Stupid Ted Turner. Until next time, here's a shot of the Scooby-Doo substitues:
After we had eaten, our slightly bloody-legged son was watching a moth that was thrashing around on the pavement. Naturally, after watching it for a few moments, he stomped on it. When he saw that the moth's body was now stuck to the underside of his show, he started violently scraping his shoe on the ground. That didn't work, so he started screaming and looking down in the general direction of his shoe. I'm pretty sure the people at the next table saw our child screaming and looking down in the area of his bloodied leg and assumed he had a boo-boo. Sadly, his parents were laughing at the whole ordeal. In our defense, we were laughing at the fact that he was freaking out over a moth stuck on his shoe, not a cut on his leg.
Anyway, we got into our Jeep and got on the road to head home. Since the top was still down, our kids were freezing all the way home because it had gotten a little chilly. I thought about turning the heat on but that would have been just selfish since none of that heat would have reached our kids in the back.
So, to sum it all up, I really don't think my wife and I are bad parents. It's not like we drove around in thirty degree weather with the top down. We would only do that if the kids were acting up a lot and we had to prove that we weren't joking with them when we said we'd make both of them ride around in the back of the Jeep with the top down in thirty degree weather. Again, that's only if we had to absolutely prove something.
You do know I'm joking right? Right?! Answer me or so help me, I'll strap you in the back of that Jeep and drive around with the top down in thirty degree weather! Don't give me that look! Do you think I'm joking? Do you?! You do, don't you? Let's go! Take your coat OFF and get in that seat! Who's joking now, huh? HUH?!!
Have a great night.
I know I'm very prone to do this, but this whole situation makes me think of a Simpsons episode where Homer is quitting his job at the Nuclear Power Plant for a job at the bowling alley (I think). Anyway, on his final day, he does all these horrible things since he just knows he'll never be back. As he drives away from the plant he throws a match behind him and burns a small wooden bridge leading to the plant. Ah, literal imagery of old cliches. Good stuff.
Anyway, it's late and I have to work this weekend. Thankfully, this is Labor Day weekend so I don't anticipate it being very busy. Also, I'm off Monday and then again on that Friday.
What was I complaining about again?
Sad isn't it?
The amount of responsibility and even risk that I have at my current job would, in a perfect world, warrant my being "gainfully employed". At least slightly. Instead, I and my peers are told, in essence, that whenever something goes wrong at the branch level and it has cost the company some profit, then we are responsible. Conversely, when things go right (i.e. our branch nets a huge amount of money) suddenly the manager and his sales counterpart reap the benefits in the form of monthly thousand dollar plus bonuses. Nevermind the possibility that I and my coworkers could have had a hand in it. Thankfully, when our branch is doing really well, our manager occasionally purchases pizza for us, which he later sends up an expense request for.
Yes, I know that is what happens when you are in an entry level position in a fairly large company but it does get old. For example, one of our semi-upper management members sent an email to our area discussing, among other things, what folks in my current position are doing wrong. This email basically set forth the premise that I, and my peers, are grossly overpaid for the amount of work we do. This is the same person that, when challenged on this topic, would say, "You are awesome at what you do. Keep up the good work. Wish I had more like you." Come on. Do I really seem that naive? (Umm, don't answer that.)
I suppose this is one of those talents that you have to possess in order to move up in this company: the ability to agree with someone completely but still tell them that they are dead wrong. I mean that in all seriousness. I could sum up so many "discussions" with this manager with the following made up quote: "I know you would never do this but I have to tell you anyway and don't worry; I know every possible question and concern you could possibly have so don't bother saying anything. If you do say anything contrary, I will simply agree then tell you how you are an overpaid moron. Have I told you lately how much this company would miss you if you left? It would take us a matter of hours to find a chimp that could do your job better than you. And that includes all the time that he would spend throwing his own feces against the wall."
Wow. I guess I've got a little bit of pent up frustration about work. What was this post supposed to be about anyway? Oh yeah, my future career aspirations. Can you tell that those aspirations don't lie with my current job? I hope I was vague enough in my griping so that I don't have to resort to editing my profile so I'm a little more anonymous. Anyway, I'd better go now. Believe it or not, I feel much better. Thank you. Thank you for not ratting me out to my boss. 'Night!
Oh, nevermind. My stupid cat just did something stupid that I've now stupidly got to deal with. Stupid.
Have I ever mentioned that I am completely over my cat? I like to believe that once he becomes an adult cat and not an insane, ultra-hyper, pcycho-kitty, that I will like him more. As for now, the phrase that describes him most for me "immensely annoying".
If there are any cat lovers out there reading this, just know this: I used to love cats, too, until recently when I discovered that they are actually immensely annoying.
Now I've got it all figured out. I just like the mornings that I don't have to work or basically do anything. Yes, those are the mornings I like. For now...
Oh well. As much as I'd like to be slack around the house today, I've got to go to work and be slack. Oops. I mean, I've got to simply go to work. Have a great rainy day! Enjoy it, those of you who don't know how good you've got it.
The buyer, who is in Canada, said he meant to type $55. I noted that the next runner up had a rating of 92% while the winner has a solid 100% rating so I agreed to the $55. Today the buyer tells me that he misunderstood something about the shipping amount and that he cannot buy this item.
My knee jerk reaction was to leave this person negative feedback and relist the item. However, I'm willing to give this guy the benefit of the doubt and mutually withdraw our transaction. Unfortunately, I have to wait for this person to respond to the withdrawal. Oh well, at least he wasn't acting like a jerk about it despite how I may or may have not depicted him in this post.
In semi-related news, the price for the Xbox 360 was announced today. Here's the official press release. Or, more accurately, the prices were announced. That's right: Microsoft is releasing two different versions of their new console. The first one, or Xbox 360 Core System as it is officially called, will be priced at $299. This system will include the console, one wired controller, video cables, and an ethernet cord. The other one, or Xbox 360, will be priced at $399. It includes the console, one wireless controller, Xbox Live Headset, 20GB detachable HD, video cables, and a multimedia remote control.
Ouch!
I, along with many people (read: geeks) in the gaming community were a bit shocked at this price point. Not too long ago, it was implied that the Xbox 360 would be about $300 and that the wireless controller and hard drive would be standard. I think what most people are upset about is not so much the price (which is a bit steep) but more the fact that developers now have to create games that act like the hard drive is not there. Many gamers are afraid that quality will suffer.
Whatever. While following all of that crap keeps me entertained, the real meat of the issue is this: Will I be able to sell enough crap on eBay before the Xbox 360 ships (sometime in November) in order to buy one? I hope so. Sadly, my wheels are constantly spinning whenever I see something in my house that we're not using anymore. I'm always thinking, "I wonder how much I could get for this on eBay?" And it's not just because I want to blow a few hundred dollars on a video game system. Oh no. It was actually quite recently that it dawned upon me that I could used eBay to fund my next-gen console dream.
Well, I'll stop for now. I've gotten a bit wordy and I didn't even write anything creative. Except for this riddle: I see four suns and two moons obscured slightly by clouds. Ever-changing, ever present, ever constant. What am I looking at?
I'll have the answer to that spur of the moment pathetic riddle posted soon if I remember that I've even posted it. Until next time... Well, BYE!
This was actually the last night of our vacation but it's the only one with the most people in the shot.
I love this one of Joy and Molly on the beach when we were collecting sea shells.
This should be labeled as one of the most dangerous playgrounds available to children. I don't want to go into too much of it right now but I'll leave it at this: whenever Molly and Caleb went down the slide (yes, I let them go down the slide) the whole slide would shake and shift with their weight as they went down. Kind of scary.
Caleb, a couple of days after his sunburn. You can still make out the left over ruptured blister on his left cheek.
Joy, as we were driving back from Ocrakoke. Isn't she loverly?
Yours truly. Yes, I took this picture of myself while I was driving 65mph down the highway.
There will be more to come. It's just really late right now.
Ahhh. That feels good. So how are you? Really? That's good. Oh, sorry to interrupt you but could you focus more on my shoulders? I've got a lot of tension there. Thanks. Anyway, you were saying? That's terrible! Why? Didn't you see the pedestrian crossing sign? I agree. If the city is going to let tree branches cover up an important sign like that, then let them take the vehicular manslaughter charge.
Back to reality now. We are going to Nags Heads, NC tomorrow morning and we're leaving early. And when I say "early" I'm talking, like, 9am. 10:30 tops. (Just kidding. That's not the planned time, but I'm being realistic. I know my family and in-laws quite well.)
I will be taking lots of pictures with my digital camera. At first, I thought I was going to have a dilemma with my camera. I have one 128MB SD card in my camera which normally holds up to about one hundred pictures but I was afraid that I would go through all of those. Then I remembered that I have another 128MB card in my PDA. Since I hardly ever use the card in the PDA, that automatically opens up another hundred pictures. Now, if I actually go on vacation to Nags Head and burn through two hundred pictures, then you know that I'm simply wasting pictures.
Well, that's all. I'll be sure to update my blog when I come back and I'll send up as many pictures as my flickr account will allow. Have a great week!
That's right, this cheap little pager displayed a 1-800 number and the words "Discovery Channel". First of all, how did the Discovery channel get my number? Secondly, what did they want with me? And finally, if I did have some sort of information the Discovery channel needed, couldn't it have waited until normal business hours? I mean, was someone's life on the line? I was trying to sleep and some quasi-science channel is bothering me?! I guess I'll have to reconsider my decision to do freelance work for them during Shark Week.
Vac-Man, Arch Enemy of Stretch Armstrong (in box)
Peavey black and white Electric Guitar with gig bag
Peavey Envoy 110 Amplifier
Two Distortion Pedals: Metal and Chorus (I think they are Boss pedals)
Argus 300 Slide Projector with carrying case
Radio Shack PRO-2048 Radio Police Scanner (manual in printed .pdf format)
Hard to Find (or so I'm told) U2: Elevation 2001 Live from Boston double DVD set
Original Paperback Novel version of Star Wars dated 1977
Authentic Soviet officer's Hat (No idea what rank), tag (in Russian) still attached)
Other stuff that I happen to stumble upon at a thrift store.
Where did this person fall from? There was no platform of any kind from which to launch him/herself. I also noted that there had been no sound of any sort of aircraft flying overhead. Strange experience.
I should inform you that this was a dream. An odd one to be sure but, believe it or not, it was also terrifying. In retrospect, I'm not sure why it was so scary. I think it may have more to do with the overall creepy feeling of the dream, not necessarily the person falling. Anyway, have a great day.
Maybe this year when I get off work on Halloween, I'll be able to spend more time trick or treating with my kids instead of coming to see that they're almost done. Have a great night!
By the way, he put all of those pieces on his left hand; I helped him with his right.
A few hours after publishing that, I tried my iPod and [gasp!] it WORKED! The play/pause button is a little less responsive but other than that it's working perfectly! I guess I made the right decision in letting it dry out for a few days instead following my initial gut reaction which involved the iPod being thrown against the wall in unrestrained anger.
So, for all of you out there that have been mourning for the past week, I apologize. Just know that your tears were not shed in vain, for I, too, thought the iPod Shuffle was gone for good. Have a great evening and sorry about the extended delay between posts. That will change as soon as I start posting more often.
Have a great night!
Each day I went to work with it, I would take it and put it in my right pants pocket since I knew that the heat that would be present in my car all day could potentially damage the sensitive electronic components. And, when I got home at night I would take it inside and put it on my dresser where it could rest peacefully away from my two year old and my cat. Of course, coming home from work with coffee mugs, soda cans, etc. meant that I would typically put the Shuffle in my pocket during the trip from my driveway to my bedroom. Therein lies the rub.
On at least three different occasions, I was getting ready to leave for work and could not find my preciousss. I mean my precious mp3 player (oops). Then, each time, I would go look in the hamper and, sure enough, there was my iPod: in the pocket of my pants, in the dirty clothes.
Ah, dirty laundry in the hamper. An image that will haunt me for years to come, I'm sure. A couple of weeks ago, I got up for work and realized that I did not have any clean pants. Not only were they dirty, they were apparently the only dirty clothes in the hamper. As I started the washing machine in a panic for fear that I'd be late for work, I fussed at my wife saying, "Why did you wash everything else but my work pants?" Strange how our words come back to haunt us.
Thursday night, I came home from work in the usual way. My wife took my daughter up to the hospital to see our new baby nephew (see pics below). I knew that I had to drop a bill off so I grabbed my wallet, keys, and... where was the iPod? I searched my dresser casually, then a sense of dread came over me. From my room I could hear the washing machine's steady mechanical motion. I swear the swishing of the water and motor harmonized and sounded like: SHOR FUL- SHOR FUL- SHUF FULL-SHUF FULL- SHUFFLE!! I ran to the hamper and started digging through the dirty clothes, frantically searching for my work pants. They weren't in there. I threw open the lid of the washing machine.
It looked just like a murder scene. Khaki pants, wet and twisted into unnatural positions, filled the tank. I pulled out the first pair and shoved my hand into the pockets. Not there. I pulled out the next pair - empty pockets. Then I saw it.
Time seemed to slow down when I laid my eyes upon the iPod Shuffle resting peacefully at the bottom of my washing machine tank under about three inches of water. I plunged my hand into the water in a vain attempt at saving its poor, defenseless life. I looked at the water droplets that now covered its white little frame and shook it gently. A small splashing sound answered. Water. Water had infiltrated the iPod Shuffle's design.
I had plans for this little mp3 player. I start my vacation on the outer banks of North Carolina in about three weeks and I was already mentally setting up a vacation/beach mix that would last us all week in our car (the thing could run twelve hours on a single charge for crying out loud!). I was planning to link it to the Xbox 360 (which you can supposedly do) when it finally comes out.
Funny how our plans get tossed aside in this life. Despite all my plans, I never planned on this: Selling it on eBay with this title: "Inoperable iPod Shuffle Due to Water Submersion".
Apple iPod Shuffle: June 17th, 2005 - July 7th, 2005.
George, the proud papa just after the birth. Sorry it's not very high quality but I was on the outside of the nursery taking this picture.
Wayne, Caleb, and Molly in the waiting room at the hospital. What they're sitting in is actually a magazine rack.
Even though you can't see the baby at all in this one, this is a great shot. There's a nurse, George, and George Sr. seeing the baby. A Kodak moment.
Chloe playing around in Suzanne's hospital room.
Okay, so I don't actually have any pictures of the baby yet. I mean, I have some that were taken from a distance but they don't actually count. However, tonight my wife is going to the hospital to see the baby and I've sent my digital camera with her. So I should have some pictures online tonight.
If not tonight, then definitely tomorrow night. Or, Saturday morning. You get the idea.
I'll also post some pictures of Caleb's new buzz cut. He looks very much like Charlie Brown now, with his large bulbous head. Later...
Happy Independence Day, America! In honor of this solemn time, my family and I will be eating grilled hamburgers and hotdogs. And possibly get in someone's swimming pool. In all seriousness, I wonder how many children in our public school system know anything about our nation's birth. Sad.
Again: Happy Independence Day, America!
The day the pig got out will always live on in the memories of everyone on the farm. Paul, the oldest of the farmer's sons opened the gate with a bag of feed under his right arm. Before closing the gate, he stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his gloved hand. That was all the time the pig needed.
He had been waiting for this moment all day. He had casually, secretly watched Paul go about his chores, his heart pounding with anxiety. Now, he darted between Paul's legs, sending the feed bag flying in the air and sending Paul to the ground. Never in his fifteen years had Paul seen a pig run so fast.
Unfortunately for the pig, he was headed for the barn...
Stay tuned for new "The Pig" episodes. Each one is more meaningless and boring than the one that preceded it.
(Yes, I really plan on adding to this story. Now who's the sucker for reading my blog?)
My five year old daughter is able to watch a rented DVD not once, not twice, but a staggering eighty-three times in five short days. I admit that figure sounds a bit high (and it probably is) but that's really what it seems like. I've heard the story of how Strawberry Shortcake met Cocoa Calypso so many times now that I really have to struggle to remember what my wife and I even rented. On the plus side, that Cocoa Calypso does sing a catchy song. The chorus is: "With all that I've got/ With all that I've found/ Why would I need anybody around." Sounds a bit dark but the upbeat musical score juxtaposes the mood nicely.
I could probably list several titles that I've rented that have never seen the inside of my Xbox but this week's casualty is the romantic comedy "Hitch" starring Will Smith and Kevin James. There it sits upon my shelf, staring blankly at the ceiling. If it could, I know that the "Hitch" case would be thinking: "Why did they rent me? They haven't even cracked me open to see the graphic on the disc. I mean, they could have at least returned me after the first day for a dollar credit. But, no... And listen to that Strawberry Shortcake. She gets all the love. How I hate that little tart."
Sheesh. That "Hitch" movie is mean. Oh well, with all that I've learned, with all that I've found, why do I rent movies and leave them lying around?
Fin
Anyway, this last picture sums up the overall reaction to how we did this weekend. Have a great day!
Anyway, I'll post some pictures in a little while.
I don't mean "being together" in that we lived together so we really had no choice (although, at times, I'm sure that was the case). I mean all those weekends we spent together as a family; all of those road trips we took together as a family. I still remember waiting with my brother for my dad to get off the bus from work. When we saw him, we would run up to him and he would greet us with a wide smile and a loving hug. I want my kids to look at me like that someday. I want my kids to look up to me the way I looked up to my father then. The way I still do now.
As a kid, there was never a jar lid too tight, a box too heavy, or a shelf too high for my dad. To me, my dad was Superman. And as far as I'm concerned, he still is.
Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you.
Don't get me wrong. I love my kids. I love babies. I loved my kids when they were babies; I just don't really want anymore right now.
Back on the subject, if you want to see some more pictures of the baby, click the picture or the flickr link on the right. Have a great night!
Why can't the cereal manufacturers get this right? After opening the cardboard top, I am faced with a plastic bag containing the actual cereal. But I can't just grab the bag with both hands, pull, and expect it to open. That would be too simple. I am forced to examine the glue seal, diligently searching for its weak spot. Once I think I've found the right spot, I steadily tug at either side of the bag. Then, I move my hands just a little further over in an effort to start the opening over a wide area at the top of the bag. Just when I'm confident that the bag will open cleanly and smoothly, I apply a little more pressure and, RIPCRUNCH!! The bags opens but is ripped down its side, instantly causing the cereal to go stale. It is now impossible to close this bag properly.
My plea to Kelloggs, Post, General Mills, etc. is this: Please make a better bag! I'm not asking for a "zip-lock" bag; that's not cost efficient. I'm just asking for a bag that will withstand the violent opening procedure. Please hear my cry! I cannot, nay, will not, switch to another breakfast food. I am at your breakfast mercy. Serve up a bowl of sympathy for me.
It's strange how dreams come about. I haven't watched Jim Belushi's show; I haven't even heard of any police stand-offs in the news lately but out of the blue this dream pops in my head. It's so random that I decided to post it here in the unlikely event that something similar to this happens to Mr. Belushi. Then I will be heralded as some sort of clairvoyant, which is actually my life dream. That, or a professional writer. Whichever.
I've learned so much from my parents. More than I think they will ever come to understand. I've learned that, in marriage, you don't have to constantly surround yourself with "busy" activities like hanging out all night with friends while your wife is home alone with the kids. I've learned that it is never appropriate to put your spouse down (even in jest) in front of other people. I've learned all of this by example.
My wife and I have been married for nine years now and each day is a learning experience; each day is an adventure. Of all the lessons I learn in my own marriage, the best lesson was learned early on in my life: Saying "I do" means something. It means sticking by the one you love no matter how rough the road gets, no matter how dark the storm clouds in life become. Two have become one.
Happy 35th Anniversary, Mom and Dad! Your love inspires me.
After the yard sale "extravaganza" (as my wife would love to call it), we started rearranging our house a little bit. The main goal was to move the older computer (which I'm typing this on right now) from my daughter's room into the dining room using a desk we got from my brother-in-law last week. That goal has been met. However, over the course of the evening and in the spirit of rearranging, we started working on our kids' rooms. Yuck.
Our children accumulate lots of stuff. We don't shower them with gifts but what they do get is either an annoying noise maker or is small, sharp, and painful to step on barefoot. Anyway, we bagged up some of the stuff for an attic trip and an upcoming yard sale when I realized that I hadn't eaten. Cereal sounded good but we were out of milk (and, frankly, any good cereal) so I made a midnight milk and cereal run to Harris Teeter.
It's kind of funny, I think. People go to the grocery store at midnight for a host of reasons: medicine for the baby, diapers, toilet paper. But not us. We go out at night to get milk and cereal. We are a wild and crazy bunch. Excuse me while I finish my Raisin Bran.
I meant to post this a couple of weeks ago, but I have some pictures posted over at flickr.com. It's free ,of course, and I've already got the link over on the right hand portion of this page. Check it out when you have the time but remember, it's a work in progress so there aren't that many picutres yet...
Until next time, thanks for checking out my blog.
I spent a little bit of time with this part of the game yesterday and I found out that it is very addictive. Sure you can do flames, or some generic skull head but, with a little imagination, you can create virtually anything! Not me of course. I spent a long time yesterday just designing the Christmas tree, snowman, and snowy scene on my Subaru Impreza. And, quite obviously, it's very amateur. Worst of all, my wife thinks I'm a total dork. I half-jokingly said I would take it online and race against other people ("Fear my Christmas Tree Subaru, superior drivers!") and she looked at me like I was crazy. Of course, I am crazy so that didn't bother me at all. Anyway, I don't plan on designing any masterpiece, but it is a lot of fun. If I happen to create anything else that looks remotely cool or funny, I'll post it here. In the meantime, I'm going to bed.
I've been following E3 over the internet and through shows that I've Tivoed. E3 is the Electronic Entertainment Expo that is held every May in California. The main reason I like to watch it, aside from being a nerd, is the previews of all the games that will be coming out over the next year. Even though I'll end up playing less than 1% of the games, I still find it entertaining. And this year, the next generation of consoles is being touted. First and foremost is the new Xbox 360 which actually debuted last week on a horrendous MTV special. The only thing good that came out of that show is that it renewed my disdain for MTV and the MTV mentality.
Anyway, Nintendo are talking about their new consoles as well. If you listen to Sony all you hear is that the PS3 will be the most powerful supercomputer/console ever divinely inspired by super-geniuses here on earth. All will be crushed under the foot of the Playstation. Nintendo always takes the moral high ground: "We're not trying to make the most powerful machine. We don't have to. We're Nintendo and our games are simply better than anyone else's. Period." Microsoft is still trying to be cool even though everyone thinks they're some evil corporation.
Despite all this, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna go for the Xbox 360. Mainly due to Xbox Live and XMG (which I've written about before). In other words, I'd better start saving or do the pre-purchase thing. I can just hear my sister now, "Dork! Let me go check my gigabytes."
It's so cute to see him trotting around in one of those silly dog diapers while he learns. Well, they're not so much "dog" diapers as they are "human baby" diapers. Some may say this is cruel, but look at him. He seems to love it, at least in one of those pictures.
Anyway, it's late and I'm not feeling very creative or talkative. I'm mainly posting this to make sure it will publish properly since I was messing around with some of the settings on blogspot. Have a great night.
I just finished listing the first of what will be three Star Wars items on eBay (see the link to the right). My daughter, who is currently addicted to Star Wars, happened across these when she was at a local thrift store with my wife. When my wife called me and told me about them and then told me they were old and still in the original package, my jaw hit the floor. I said, "Those are probably worth a lot more than five bucks. Whatever you do, PLEASE do not open them." Naturally, we had to offer my to get my little girl a newer (less valuable) Star Wars toy as a replacement.
As you can see from the picture above, this first item that I'm listing over at eBay is R2-D2. There is one more identical R2-D2 and the third one is Luke Skywalker.
Seeing these old toys make me wish I had kept my old Star Wars toys. They'd probably be worth a mint right now! I still can't get over how good the condition is on these items. I just know there's a guy somewhere coming home and screaming at the top of his lungs to his mom or wife: "You did WHAT with my old Star Wars toys?!!" When the auction ends in about seven days, I'll post the final price of this "toy".
I may be exaggerating a bit, but here's the part I hate the most: I find the spinning rims hypnotic. When I'm sitting at a stop light and see a set of those, I just stare. I keep staring. Then I start to wonder as they very slowly wind down, will they stop spinning completely before the light turns green? It becomes a contest of wills between two lifeless objects: a spinning alloy rim attachment and a stop light. And I want the rims to win. I start to think, "Come on... They're getting slower. Okay, the other side is still going - Gasp! The light's turning yellow! Come on, come on! Stop already! Noooo!" Stop light: One. Spinning rims: Zero. Sad isn't it?
It gets even more frightening when I'm driving down the interstate and I see a car doing 70mph and I simply can't get over the fact that the rims are spinning so slow. I mean, it looks like the car is gliding! It's majestic.
I've changed my mind. I now know that spinning rims are the epitome of beauty. Thanks hip-hop gangster wanna-be's! I've seen the light!
P.S. My apologies for overuse of exclamation points in this post. I found it necessary but, in retrospect, I find it annoying.
Anyway, about the photo: I've always loved close ups of odd subject matter. I don't know if that makes me a minimalist or just dumb. I'll leave that up to you.
At our new house, we got a couple of cats. Our cats were always indoor/outdoor cats, meaning that we let them come and go as they please. Our early cats were named Sylvester and Leo. Leo was mine and Sylvester was my brother's. Not long after we got these cats, Leo was hit by a car directly in front of our house. Very disturbing to say the least. As for Sylvester, we out that it was actually a female when it gave birth to four kittens on my bed while I was sleeping on it. That was a neat experience but also quite gross at the same time. Anyway, we kept two of the kittens of that litter. The other two ended up at the SPCA. Those two that we kept were called Smokey and Boots.
Smokey was technically my cat and Boots was my sister Michelle's. When they reached adulthood, they constantly fought and, eventually, Boots left. We only saw him a couple of times after that, but he never really came back to our yard.
A little later in Smokey's life, he came home with an injured tail. When I use the term "injured" that is to say that the bone was clearly visible along three-fourths of his tail. Very gross. So, late that night, we took him to an animal hospital and he came back home in a day or two with a nub instead of a tail. Yes, they had to amputate but he lived a full, long life after that. I'm not totally sure how much that cost but according to my parents it was more expensive than it would've been to simply have the animal destroyed.
During that long, full life that Smokey lived, he sired a little kitten by a stray that we had sort of adopted. (I'm not certain of the kitten's name but I think it may have been Boots II or Boots: Redux.) I can't remember what became of the mother cat, but I am fairly certain she was hit by a car. This "new" Boots was Michelle's. Unfortunately for Boots, he was also an indoor/outdoor cat.
One evening, Michelle spotted a dead cat in the street and, sadly, it was little Boots. She cried and bemoaned the loss of her beloved feline friend and my parents buried it in the back yard. A few days later, the realBoots came trotting back up the house. He wasn't dead after all! This was quite a relief for Michelle which is why it's so sad that when Boots actually washit by a car, he didn't receive a proper burial. His carcass was simply left in the road. I guess everybody had used up all of their grief on the mystery cat that was buried in the back yard.
Through all of these times, my brother and I had hamsters, parakeets, and fish. The most memorable of all of these is the hamster of mine that had babies.I'd always heard that when an animal has babies, you should never touch or move the babies since doing so could cause the mother to stop feeding her young. I learned the hard way that hamsters don't just stop feeding their young if you move them; they brutally murder them.
My pet hamster had just had about four pink, cute, little babies. However, the hamster cage reeked. I was told by my parents that I had to clean the cage so I cut a piece of cardboard out and used it to gently move the babies out of the way while I cleaned it. After all of the wood chips and other hamster cage paraphernalia were in place, I returned the mother hamster and her young to their little home. Soon afterward, I heard some small, high pitched squeaks. I rushed to my room and, to my horror, watched as the mother hamster picked each and every one of her babies up and gnawed away at their heads until they were dead. I was probably twelve or thirteen at the time, so to say that this was traumatic would be an overstatement. After seeing several of my own cats dead in the street in front of our house, I think it's safe to say that I was very aware of the mortality of animals.
I could go on for about three or four more paragraphs explaining all the circumstances surrounding the demise of my various pets but you get the idea. Animals simply die, but the pets that you love and care about pass away.Isn't it sad that even though my wife's father is in the hospital, our main topic of conversation this morning was babysitting arrangements. If only I could go back to being Mr. Mom again. Those were the days...
Anyway, after reaching a fairly "safe" level of oil I fired it up and -big surprise here- it started smoking again. Luckily, the smoking subsided and I was able to start mowing my lawn. Unluckily, however, a thunderstorm, which I thought was just ominous looking, let loose and it started to rain. So I only got about 1/5 of my side yard cut. The front and back still remain at "abandoned house" level. I hope to get the rest done tomorrow.
You have to admit that reading about when and how someone mows their lawn provides endless entertainment. Be sure to read my blog next week as I plan to chronicle how I balance clothes in the washing machine so it doesn't knock violently during the spin cycle.
I need a Yearbook of my life. One that I can pull down off of the shelf, leaf through it, and find a picture of someone I've come across in my life and be able to find out their name. I say this because I was at Best Buy a couple of nights ago and ran into a lady that I used to work with about two years ago. She saw me and immediately said, "Hey, Mike! How are you." I, of course, recognized her as someone I'd worked with at my last job, so I was able to play it off quite well. The only thing that bugged me is that I could not, for the life of me, remember her name. And it's been less than two years since I'd worked with this individual. Despite what may have been appropriate, I decided not to ask her, "What was your name again?" Sadly, this happens a lot to me.
When I'm working at a job and I see the same people day in and day out, I have no problem remembering their names. But, once I slip out of regular contact with someone, I tend to forget their names. I really don't think this is a memory lapse issue more than it is pure laziness. I tend to get lazy when it comes to memorizing names and it's totally unintentional. It isn't that I think some people aren't worthy of entering my permanent mental name archive, it's that I simply don't try hard enough.
Which brings me back to the Yearbook of My Life idea. If I could have discreetly taken a peak at a book like that during the Best Buy incident, I would have been able to address that lady by her name instead of using the generic "Hey, how are you doing?" In the end, I ended up relying on my more reliable "yearbook of life". My wife. Somehow, she can remember stuff like that. Too bad she wasn't there with me so I could have just leaned over and loudly whispered, "What's her name?"
Here are some recent pictures from our backyard. Molly and Caleb swinging on our crooked swing set (seriously - it's very crooked) and that other picture is kind of a bug's eye view. I've always liked pictures with a very different sort of perspective. Anyway, that's that. I was going to post a picture of my now-living fish, but the lighting was all wrong. I'll get that up some other time.
Anyway, I'm using this program called w.Bloggar to do this post. It's a program that allows you to compose and upload your blog posts without actually going to the "blogger dashboard". I'm not sure what all of the benefits are aside from the fact that the blogger dashboard was acting up when I was using Firefox last week. I was told about it by someone over at the XMG site. I've found out about a lot of cool stuff over there in addition to the fact that I can be beaten badly by almost anyone in any video game.
I have to work this weekend. Yippee. Hopefully we won't be too busy. Don't get me wrong, I want us to have good numbers but the last couple of weekends I've had to work, we've been pretty busy. The good part is that it helps the day go by quickly. Enough whining. I'm getting ready to take my son over to his Nana's house then it's off to work for me. Have a great day.
It really doesn't make me mad, believe it or not. I find it pretty funny that UPS, Airborne Express, and the U.S. Postal Service can all find my house, but FedEx can't. So, the moral of the story is: Yes, Federal Express has cool uniforms but, please, if you're shipping something to me, use UPS. Thanks.
I casually put the key into the ignition and turned. Since I had not started it all winter, I had to use the choke. No big deal. However, when the engine roared into action, white smoke started to billow out of the front. At first I thought it was just burning off excess oil. Then I noticed that the garage (which was wide open and which the mower was facing) was completely filled with smoke. Still, I assumed that the smoke would die down. Finally, when I realized that I literally couldn't see anything except for the smoke, I shut the engine off.
I waved in vain at the smoke and walked around to the front of the lawn mower. I could see plainly where the oil was dripping from the manifold (at least that's what I think it's called) then I saw that oil had sprayed all over the floor of my garage and against the side my clothes dryer. Needless to say, I was extremely upset. At myself. And the worst part is that I'm fairly certain that I overfilled the engine with oil. How terribly idiotic.
Now for more evidence supporting my state of idiocy. I had to cut my grass using my old push mower. That's not the worst part. This lawn mower only has three wheels and has remained in this state of disability for the past 2 years. My rationalization behind this is that I only use it to mow my ditch (when the riding lawn mower is working) so why fix it? But, wait, that's not the worst part either. The worst part of it all is that the push mower does not start in the conventional way. Sure, it's a pull string but the string does not recoil back due to the fact that I ran over a brick with this poor machine about 2 years ago.
So how do I draw the string back? Well, initially I would abuse my fingers by painfully hand-winding the string back down into the compartment above the engine. Then, last year, it hit me: why waste all that time winding with my fingers when all I have to do is lift up the lawn mower and draw the string in by [gasp!] turning the actual blades with my right hand? I'm very aware of the danger this poses me, but I feel pretty confident. After all, I'm left handed and, as I stated above, I always maneuver the blades with my right hand. So, no need to worry, right?
The reason I posting all of this is to pose this question: Is this example of my combined carelessness, procastination, and sense of invincibility a metaphor for my whole life? There are so many times that I wait too long to do some important task (ask me about my car(s)) due to the fact that I consider actually doing said task to be much more inconvenient that whatever consequences await me when I do nothing at all. Then there's the sense of invincibilty thing... to be honest, that was for comic relief. I am very aware of my own mortality which begs the question: Why do I still insist on turning the blades of my lawn mower with a full tank of gas? Well, from this day forward, I will disconnect the spark plug wire when I do that. I promise. Baby steps...
