Digital Ramen

The enigma of the Hundred-Acre Wood

2006-03-20T20:11:00.000-08:00

The following sheets of paper were discovered on 31 January, 1977, tied to a red balloon entangled in a powerline in Sussex, England:

Recently, I was pressed by the medical community to prospect a small commune of patients who had been isolated from the rest of society. The commune was established in secret; a sort of Never-Land, if you will, in which a small, random sample of people had been sent to develop their own independent colony. Over the years, they were to be observed for longitudinal study by anthropologists and physicians. I was sent with the latest group of interns to track their progress. What I would discover would change the way I would perceive reality altogether.

My group was packed into a van and blindfolded by a group of whitecoats to preserve the secrecy of this project. When we arrived and removed our blindfolds, I was stunned. The commune, codenamed "Hundred Acre Wood," was a small, pastoral sector of land of approximately that size.

I could only describe the chill Autumn weather as "blustery."

It was like stepping into a lonely Eden. Our group surveyed the area, finding no living souls around. Being unfamiliar with this area, we were initially reticent to investigate, for fear of being isolated in the dense forest. Fortunately, our apprehensiveness would be soon ameliorated, when we suddenly saw a young, mouse-haired boy holding a red helium balloon approaching us at a quick pace.

He introduced himself as Christopher Robin, whom we would later learn was the sole human survivor in the area. What had happened here? The child was unnervingly skinny, almost malnourished, yet remained jovial and untroubled. We had food scarce enough to feed the team, let alone the Wood denizens, but I hastily assembled a peanut-butter-and-hunny sandwich for the boy, which he ate happily.

Taking me by the hand, Christopher agreed to show me around, provided the interns would stay behind. I had gained the boy's trust, but he was hesitant to talk to the others. I told them I would rendezvous in several hours, and they reluctantly agreed to stay near the van.

Christopher led me down a partially-hidden path through a small thicket which opened up into an open-air grassy knoll surrounded by trees on all sides. I immediately noticed another entity sitting on a hollow log in the middle of the field, but I had never seen another of its ilk before.

I stared at a distance for several minutes, then looked down at Christopher, who returned my gaze with an innocent smile, coaxing me to approach the beast. He pointed at it and uttered one word: "Pooh." I drew near with great trepidation, but as I got closer, I saw that it was quite harmless, if not simple-minded.

It seemed to have a penchant for hunny, as it was surrounded by discarded jars labeled as containers for the sweet. The dim-witted beast seemed entirely absorbed in thought, jabbing pensively at his temple. I was, of course, astounded. The creature seemed to be a smallish ursine, and yet, something altogether different. Its persistent poking revealed that it had no skull, and significantly tenacious gray matter, almost like stuffing. I concluded that its head contents were largely superfluous.

One might say it was a bear with very little brain.

As I drew nearer, I could ascertain that the creature was not at all organic, but was built from stitched-together fabric! And, gads, it talked! I could hear it muttering, "Think... think..." under its breath, as if it were reassuring itself that it could adequately cogitate.

Sketch of "Pooh" by the author

Slightly horrified, I shot a glance back at Christopher. Surely, this boy couldn't have birthed this bearish homunculus... could he? His return stare revealed nothing but unworldliness.

That's when it hit me: I had stumbled into a cloak-and-dagger experiment not meant for my eyes.

I had to escape. The world had to know. What happened to the rest of the team? They would be found, and their bodies tossed over the edge of a cliff, overlooked by a lone swingset, drifting hither and to in the breeze.

I never did discover why Pooh was struggling with thought so.

I don't plan to share their fates. I took to the woods. I ran for several minutes, and suddenly fell headlong, having tripped over a randomly-arranged pile of sticks. Before I could collect myself, I suddenly discovered that I was face-to-face with another ill-conceived creation. An elephantine quadruped had skulked right up to me. It did not seem hostile, but I was frightened, nonetheless. It glanced over at the fallen timber, sighed, and looked back at me with cold, button eyes. God, the eyes...

[editor's note: The following is scribbled hastily, and appears to be of different penmanship, although it is assumed to be the same author.]

I'm alone now. They're going to find me. I can hear the black helicopters circling overhead. They can take me, but they can't have my research! I am going to distract them. They won't find it. I can only hope this falls into the right hands...

The Idea Factory

2006-01-07T05:47:00.000-08:00

I'm not dead. I said this once before after a long hiatus. One of my New Years' Resolutions was to get back into regularly updating this thing, so let's get started. Again.

Here's something that I noticed quite a while ago, but has gone unsaid until now.

There's an assortment of posters hanging on two of the walls in my room at home, most of them pin-up inserts I found in various gaming magazines. If one or two caught my eye, I went ahead and tacked 'em up, even if I'd never played the game or knew I never would.

Case in point: Midway's 2003 PS2 title, Dr. Muto. I don't even remember where I got the poster, nor am I sure why it's still hanging above my TV. I won't bother explaining the premise of the game, but I would like to make a note of the character design.

Observe this visual comparison between the little mad scientist character namesake from Dr. Muto and Mystery Science Theater 3000's Dr. Clayton Forrester, the latter having been around since the show's 1988 conception. The resemblance is more than just a little bit coincidental, it's downright dubious.

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Scandal!

I'd recommend something along the lines of boycotting Midway for what I feel is blatant plagiarism, but I think the game wasn't much of a hit seller, anyway.

But, uh, fight the power and such. Keep circulating the tapes.

Fear and Loathing in New Mexico, or What I Did Last Summer, Part I

2005-09-25T20:38:00.000-07:00

"The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things."

I'm no walrus, but this is a thing.

Last summer, my brother and I both had the opportunity of a lifetime. Carpe Diem, I said, and went for it, while my brother turned it down. I came back with a handful of photos, a wicked farmer's tan, and memories to last a lifetime.

I was going to Philmont.

He went to a camp.

The following is a recounting of my adventure, as accurately as I can remember. I kept a rather cynical journal for the majority of the trip, which will provide a rough framework that I will expound upon. For the purposes of this blog, the journal entries will be recorded in italics, other comments will be in a normal font, and picture captions will be bold.

So, without further ado:

Day 1 (7.11.05):

Departed Lincoln, IL roughly around 1 P.M. After much whining and moaning, the trip was underway.

Eight males prepare to leave the civilized world behind them for two weeks.

There were four adults and four more youthful members on this journey--my friends Collin Voyles and Eric Knutilla and their respective fathers, Frank "The Tank" Hoblit and his dad, myself, and John DeWilde, a man who would serve as my father figure for the trip. Mr. DeWilde is the sort of man who is not born, but hewn from solid rock. I can only accurately describe him as a conglomerate of a hippy, a Navy SEAL, and Grizzly Adams.

A final salute. With Pocky.

Ate at Toxic Hell for lunch. Tried that new grilled tortilla thing. You know, that one from the commercials. My bowels later wept. Drove for several hours . Played about 75 games of Travel Connect Four in the car. Made headway in the Springfield, MO area.

At some point, we made a slight detour and stopped at what I think was the largest Bass Pro Shop in the world, with the intent of eating and obtaining several forgotten supplies. For some reason, I hadn't recorded this event in my journal.

This place was HUGE, not unlike an XBOX.

I recall wandering around for several hours with Collin and Eric while the others explored on their own. We stopped in front of a massive wall-mounted fish tank, which contained a dozen equally massive fish. We watched them lazily float around for a while, when Eric spoke precisely what was running through my mind at the time: "Man, I just wanna punch one of those fish, you know?" I must admit, it was an alluring thought, sinking your fist into the gut of one of those portly monsters, like pummeling a sopping pillow.

Collin briefly reunited with his dad and bought several pairs of socks, while Eric and I broke off on our own. We passed a wire rack full of bargain VHS tapes, all about hunting or fishing. We took a closer look and broke into laughter.

Primetime Bucks 7? Gobbler Obsession?

It didn't take much more than a dirty mind to note that these sounded suspiciously like cheap porno titles. Hee hee... "Big Rack Attack."

I think we ate at one of the overpriced interior restaurants, but I don't remember, having wandered through endless aisles of fishing poles, various hunting implements, guns, knives, camping gear, outdoor clothing, books, magazines, and instructional videos for a few hours. We discovered the gift shop and dueled with plastic guns for a bit. Eventually, we found some cushy furniture, so we crashed and waited for the rest of our group to find us.

These chairs vibrated.

Once we eight were a traveling troupe once more, we left to continue our trip. On the way out of the massive front doors, we noticed a wooden bear on a bench. Like countless Ronald McDonald statues before it, there was only one thing that could be done.

We had to molest that bear and take photographic evidence.

Image edited for content.

This one, too.

And this one.

With that out of our system, we piled back into our van, truck, and other truck and hit the road. About an hour later, we had just made it to the State Park area.

The skies opened and pissed on our arrival, forcing us to abandon our original plan to stay at Meramac State Park. Much cursing and loathing ensued.

A week or so before the trip began, I had been elected to find lodging for our crew for our time on the road. It was my job to seek out Boy Scout camps that would not only welcome our arrival warmly, but cheaply, as well. I had succeeded in making a reservation at Meramac State Park, a large vacationing area in the southwest of Missouri for our first night, as well as a reservation at an Indian museum in Texas. This, of course, was to cut down on our expenses, which at this point included the cost of the trip itself, gas money, and food. If we could avoid paying dozens of dollars to pile into two hotel rooms, all the better. This particular setback proved to be especially unwelcome, but unavoidable.

Decided to continue further into Missouri, finally settling into the Springfield Ranch Hotel. Crashed. Watched a poorly-edited-for-TV version of Office Space. Became mirthful, then sleepy. Slept.

Jinkies! Setbacks already? What lies in wait for our brave heroes? Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of Dragonball Z!

Miseria

2005-08-31T05:55:00.001-07:00

For those of you who play The Kingdom of Loathing, read on and bask in my sorrow.

For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, go read another blog. Seriously. You won't care about what I have to say.

I was this close to getting the Incredibly Dense Meat Gem today, an ultra-rare item. I mean, I was literally fighting the monster that dropped it. Problem was, I couldn't hit the damn thing, and after 30 turns, the battle is automatically ended if you're not victorious.

Needless to say, there was a LOT of swearing on my end.

I lost.

I coulda been a contendah.

After emerging empty-handed from the battle, I went and mitigated my upset feelings by downing six shots of Bacardi Limon, which tastes like a mixture of paint thinner and Pine-Sol. That got me buzzed enough that I didn't worry much about anything for a few hours.

And so ended my Tuesday evening. Online games and booze. Absolutely fascinating.

Small update...

2005-08-31T05:55:00.000-07:00

People have been bugging me to update more often. And I shall. For starters, check out the post prior to this one.

One thing that I wanted to mention: I finally went back and fixed some of the broken image links from older posts. If you're new to this blog, I suggest you start here, here, and here.

Also, from this post onward, I'll be posting the last five movies I've watched. Most of these are movies that I've never seen prior to listing them here.

I watch a ton of movies, for the record. Most of you knew this already. But I do, really.

I do this not only to fill space, but to recommend good movies, as well as movies which ought to be avoided. Because I'm way too ~~lazy~~ busy to do a full review for each and every movie I watch, I'll restrict myself to an editorial quip, and rate each one from one to five (* to *****) stars. Asterisks. Whatever. If it's two stars or less, you probably shouldn't bother. Likewise, five-star movies are of top shelf.

Last five movies I viewed:

A Boy and His Dog - Apocalyptic! Bizarre! Cynical! Starring Don Johnson and his telepathic dog.
(***** out of *****)

Boogie Nights - Porn is not just a business. It's a way of life. Hey, it's the 70's, man. Starring Mark Wahlberg and his massive foam rubber penis.
(**** out of *****)

Happiness of the Katakuris - A family runs an inn out in the middle of nowhere and has to deal with their only customers dying left and right. Oh, and there's claymation, too! Starring a bunch of famous Japanese actors that most Americans have never seen in any movie before.
(***** out of *****)

Apocalypse Now - The movie that made Conrad's Heart of Darkness into a haunting, enthralling and captivating Vietnam war epic. Starring a movie-trailer-throated Martin Sheen and a bald-headed Marlon Brando.
(***** out of *****)

Caligula - Pagan Rome. Nudity. Betrayal. More nudity. Controversy. Excessive, almost comical amounts of nudity. Starring Malcom McDowell and more wang than I ever wanted to see in my life... ever.
(*** out of *****)

More hot, fresh, steaming blog content to be served to you soon!

A post? Forsooth!

2005-08-20T21:45:00.000-07:00

Not much has happened since my return from Philmont. I know you've all been anticipating an update for some time now. At least, that's what my weekly page hits statistics tell me. Now that I'm back at school, I'll be more efficient in posting things not few and far between. I'll have the majority of my pictures scanned for a grand update ~~within a week~~ in two to three weeks, ~~I promise~~ cross your fingers.

In other news, my 21st birthday is in five days, on the 25th of August in this year of our Lord, 2005. I will more than likely not be drinking on that day, actually, since it's in the middle of the school week.

Anyway, if you're close to me in some way and feel compelled to get me something for the occasion, I'm especially partial to DVDs. If you have no idea what to get, here's my comprehensive list of DVDs that I already own, recently updated. At least you'll know what not to get.

DVD Aficionado

But hey, I own enough junk already. I don't need anything, really. Of course, I still appreciate birthday tidings. While intangible, they're still always welcome!

Still not dead...

2005-07-11T10:55:00.000-07:00

In case you've been reading this blog for a while, you may have noticed that it's been around for one whole year now. Yep, my first Ramenman's Blog anniversary came and went without me really noticing.

In other news, I'm taking off for a hiking trip in New Mexico for two weeks starting today, so no updates until the end of July, at least. As if you really noticed I was gone in the first place.

But I SWEAR I will have some new content definitely by the time I'm back at school. This summer's been rather uneventful, and I've been in a bit of a writing slump lately. If I can actually get around to what I have planned for my next bit of intarnet journalism, expect an EPIC post before summer's end.

Some weenies have cheese on the inside!

I'm not dead yet!

2005-06-20T00:40:00.000-07:00

Sorry I haven't posted in a while, folks. I've been sorting out a few personal issues and just got back from a week-long vacation.

I've recently joined a new blog. If I don't post here, I may write something there.

http://reviewboards.blogspot.com/

All About The Jeffersons

2005-05-05T15:49:00.000-07:00

Fun fact: You can get more attention from strippers by tipping $2 bills because they look like twenties in the dark.

It's amazing at how many Americans are utterly incapable of recognizing valid U.S. currency. There's been a growing number of cases in which dumb Americans have attempted to bamboozle even dumber Americans with counterfeit bills, such as in this case, where one bright woman attempted to pay for her sundries at Wal*Mart with one such piece of funny money.

Funny as in a one-million-dollar-bill-funny. Sure, Wal*Mart, that's only $998,328.45 in change. Better empty the registers and hit the vault.

Nice femmullet, genius.

Perhaps that's why we've been policing each and every case in which "questionable" currency has been used, like this instance when Best Buy had one of its loyal customers handcuffed, arrested, beaten, and stoned for attempting to pay with, you guessed it, $2 bills.

Truly, he posed a major threat to America's overall wellbeing with his dangerous monies.

Yes, friends, even the lowly $2 "This note is legal tender for all debts, public and private" bill has come under fire. Even though the $20 is the most commonly counterfeited bill, Mr. Jefferson still falls under scrupulous, discerning eyes.

I went to my local bank to obtain a couple of the oddball dollahs for myself, and they were more than obliged to shove them into my hot little hand. Why? Believe it or not, the $2 has a negative stigma of being unlucky. I didn't care. I was the new owner of several crisp Jeffersons. Oh, the things I could do!

Of course, I could spend 'em on something, too.

You see, a two dollar bill is like the retarded brother of the $1. Well... maybe more like its conjoined twin. Paying with $2 bills is a slightly sadistic, yet rewarding experience--twice as nice. You whip one out, and the cashier of [insert business here] can only stare blankly at it. The same can be said of my wang, but let's not change the subject.

In the same Million Dollar Bill FARK thread, FARKer fnorgby gained Internet celebrity-dom when he BS'd a story about paying for his meal at Taco Bell with a Two. Fellow FARKers were quick to jump on his deceit like a hobo on a ham sandwich, and later coined the phrase "pulling a fnorgby," (now immortalized at UrbanDictionary.com) for use in future cases of fraudulence.

The U.S. Treasury has this to say about "discontinued" money:

Q: I thought that United States currency was legal tender for all debts. Some businesses or governmental agencies say that they will only accept checks, money orders or credit cards as payment, and others will only accept currency notes in denominations of $20 or smaller. Isn't this illegal?

A: The pertinent portion of law that applies to your question is the Coinage Act of 1965, specifically Section 102. This is now found in section 392 of Title 31 of the United States Code. The law says that: "All coins and currencies of the United States, regardless of when coined or issued, shall be legal-tender for all debts, public and private, public charges, taxes, duties and dues."

In other words, ol' Tommy Jefferson is still kosher cash.

Channeling the spirit of the great fnorgby, I took $4 worth of Twos to the local Taco Bell to see if their staff really is consistently inept and to see the spread of their incompetence.

A young man named Victor, the only Hispanic person in the place, took my order.

I proudly pulled out my fearsome pair of Twos and handed them to Vic. He held them in his hand for about three seconds, looking at them, and then proceeded to give me my change.

I hadn't anticipated such preparation, such wisdom on Taco Bell's part.

Damn, he's good. Next time, Victor, next time.

When the craving for Montezuma's Revenge hits me again, I'll pay with a few Susan B. Anthony dollars, some Golden Sacajaweas, a few Kennedy halves, and a stack of coupons worth 1/100 of a cent out of spite.

Either that, or move to Canada. They have beavers and Maple leaves on their money.

More musical crap than you can shake a stick at!

2005-05-03T05:46:00.000-07:00

Okay, I lied. I only found one new production thing this time around.

For those of you who just walked in and have no idea what the hell I'm talking about, relax. Help yourself to a Mountain Dew from the fridge and take a look at this here post. Oh, and that post right over there, too.

So, there's this group of pretentious Theater majors at Columbia U., right? And they like, formed a group and stuff, to do skits... and stuff. Except that they're all bombastic and indie about it, so they're more of a grüp than a group... a Prangstgrüp, if you will. (Save your applause, I'm here all night.)

But they have chutzpah, you have to admit. Imagine Trigger Happy TV, only done by a bunch of young, wide-eyed performance artists, and you'll have at least a slippery grasp of their gauche lil' skits.

Let me direct you, though, to the meat and potatoes of their Flash-laden site. I wasn't rambling, really, I wasn't. My doctor says it's normal, I swear.

Look at the video right on the front page entitled "Lecture Musical." Yeah, that one with the metrosexual kid in the Kelly Green sweater. His job is to try to humiliate as many fellow students as possible without the use of any male nudity. How does one tackle such a feat? Simple: Spontaneously burst into song in the middle of a lecture, not unlike every musical ever made. And he pulls it off surprisingly well. You can just smell the embarassment as students try to hide their faces while the music man strolls through the aisles.

I imagine this video has put you on the edge of your seats. You may as well scoot back, it's probably more comfortable. But we're not out of the water yet, kids. Go now to the Videos link and check out their other foray into musical tomfoolery: "Library Musical."

I hope those two bookworms are happy. All those students who came into the library unawares to study are going to be failing finals left and right.

Breaking my own rule

2005-04-29T14:39:00.000-07:00

Okay, normally, I don't do the whole LiveJournal blog meme thing, but I tried this on a whim and it struck me as being so incredibly accurate that I had to share it with you all.

Your Birthdate: August 25

Your birth on the 25th day of the month (7 energy) modifies your life path by giving you some special interest in technical, scientific, or other complex and often hard to understand subjects.

You may become something of a perfectionist and a stickler for details.

Your thinking is logical and intuitive, rational and responsible.

Your feelings may run deep, but you are not very likely to let them show.

This birthday makes you a more private person, more introspective and perhaps more inflexible.

In friendships you are very cautious and reserved.

You are probably inventive, and given to unique approaches and solutions.

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

That's me to a tee.

lessthanthree

2005-04-26T16:11:00.000-07:00

420

2005-04-20T04:20:00.000-07:00

The more you know.

It's fun to learn!

Because knowledge is power!

I wonder if Hallmark makes a card to celebrate this day.

"Roses are red,
Mary Jane is green,
...
...
...
What was I talking about again?"

M

2005-04-11T20:43:00.000-07:00

i went and i found you there

i smiled and you smiled back

i laughed and you laughed with me

you're everything i could have wanted and more

you're everything i was seeking but never thought i could find

you're everything that i ever loved

i want to touch you hold you kiss you never let you go

i want to fall into your gaze and never climb out

i want to breathe you in and make you a part of me

you have filled me to overflowing

my heart burns and you are bathed in the flames

you are the piece that i was missing

And I can never go back.

Things that Rock, part V

2005-04-07T16:54:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry, but this is the awesome.

Shakeskin. Try it.

That is all.

A pox on thee, Sanford!

2005-03-29T07:58:00.000-08:00

No, not Fred or Lamont Sanford from Sanford and Son. I'm talking about the corporation that makes Sharpie markers. Now, you see, I very much happen to like Sharpies, but I can't say the same for Sanford, because it is a soulless, faceless enterprise, rather than a tangible thing that I can use to label my illegally downloaded music. Oops, did I just type that? I should probably mention my pirated movies, too.

Anyway, about two months ago, I had an "experience," shall we say, with a packet of Sharpie markers that I purchased. To make a long story short, Sanford owes me a new marker. Generally, when you write the company, they'll send you coupons for their free crap. I mean, who would possibly want their money back when they could have more of the same faulty merchandise? But hey, at least it's something. I sent the following letter shortly after my discovery:

Jon "Call Me Badass" P.
619 South State St.
Lincoln, IL 62656

Dear Sir, Madam, or Secretary Robot,

I’ll be blunt (Ha! Blunt like Sharpie markers!)—you guys rock. Ever since I was a younger version of myself, I’ve been buying CD-Rs for "various" purposes. Sharpie markers have always been my accessory of choice for labeling said CDs. Reliable and long-lasting, your black wands of inky, smelly goodness have served me well, in addition to making me delightfully light-headed for many years.

The other day, I went to my local Wal*Mart to refresh my supply. Actually, since I’d just bought some of those sweet black CD-Rs, I needed a silver marker, as it would show up on the black surface much better and look shiny and cool all the while. I nabbed a two-pack of Sharpie Metallics and happily skipped home to put your product into motion. At home, I ripped into the package with much eagerness. Popping off the cap of the first of the two markers, I was horrified to see a copper-colored tip, completely dried up and very much useless. My reaction was not unlike this:

(Imagine a badass sketch here [done with a Sharpie, I might add] of me holding up the dried-out marker and yelling at it. ["Argh! My marker iz broke!"] If I had scanned the original, that's what you'd be seeing, at least.)

Naturally, I was somewhat concerned as to the status of my other marker. I approached it with much trepidation and carefully twisted off the cap to discover that, fortunately, it was fully functional. All was not lost.

I’ve always been a patient and temperate person. If I were some other hot-headed consumer, I would raise a big stink and demand excessive retribution for damages caused to my fragile little psyche, but I’m not that sort of guy. This really isn’t that big a deal for me, but I figured I should write so you were informed of YOUR failure.

I assume you Sanford folks have some sort of quality control, but I guess this one must have just slipped through. I’ve enclosed the package and the one defective marker for your inspection, as instructed by the package. (I’m keeping the other because it works fine and I need it. I hope that’s okay…) I assume you’ll send me something, if nothing else, one shiny new metallic marker, but more than one of any Sharpie marker would also be nice, as I can always use more. I’ll leave the replacement issues to the discretion of whatever department’s responsible.

Still, keep up the good work! As long as you keep making Sharpies, I’ll keep buying them!

Sincerely,

A mild-mannered Sharpie consumer

(badass signature)

Yes, I seriously did send this letter to Sanford, expecting them to send me a whole bushel, or at least a peck, of free markers in penance. Two months later, and I've heard squat from any of their departmental robots, not to mention the glaring lack of free markers.

Had they decided that I was too greedy and perhaps undeserving of a freebie because I had retained my one working marker? Were they awestruck and dumbfounded by the sheer linguistics of my letter? Or maybe they decided not to waste their time with a madman who might simply be perpetuating some tomfoolery? Could it be that Sanford is, in reality, just a heartless subsidiary that cares nothing for the wellbeing of its valued consumers?

I think it's time for a smarmy follow-up letter. I'd boycott Sanford in all their nefarious dealings, but I like their product too much.

Embrace the commodity, damn the man, I say.

Where mah Peeps at?

2005-03-27T07:30:00.000-08:00

I'm going through sugar withdrawal.

Today, being Easter, the day of bunnies, chicks, eggs, and, some would argue, the resurrection of the greatest man who ever lived, I set out to satiate the urge for sweetness. Generally, Wal*Mart marks down its Easter candy today, and it hits clearance prices tomorrow. I jump on the opportunity to seize discounted candy every time Halloween rolls around, as well as Valentine's Day, Easter, and whatever other holidays I'm forgetting because it's really early in the morning.

When I arrived and stepped into the candy aisle, I was somewhat surprised at the state of things. It looked like a train wreck, if trains were actually supermarket aisles full of candy. The sheer disarray of things made me wonder how many people before me had come to get their chocolate fix. The casualties of consumerism lay in disarray at my feet. Several bags of malted eggs were torn open, their contents scattered on the floor. I plucked one out of an open bag and popped it in my mouth, not feeling guilty at all, which is a surprise, because women are always eating pounds of chocolate, only to be absolutely guilt-ridden afterwards. But then again, I'm no woman, and my metabolism owns your metabolism.

Stepping around the displaced candy, I scanned the shelves for my favorite microwaveable confectionary treat: Marshmallow Peeps.

I tell you, nothing is more satisfying than buying a whole pack of Peeps to blast in your microwave. Except maybe buying Peeps at the affordable clearance price of $0.15 a pack. Sure, sugared marshmallows are alright, but if I really wanted to eat them, I'd just buy a box of Lucky Charms. But can you make Lucky Charms inflate like miniature supernovas by exposing them to radiation? I think not. And holy crap, you can make milkshakes out of Peeps?! What can't you do with them? Man, if I ever wanted to make myself throw up and have fun while I was doing it, I'd blend one of those bad boys.

Anyway, I walked the entire stretch of aisle, seeing empty boxes of Cadbury Mini Eggs, which are orgasmically delicious, as well as entirely full cartons of those crappy bubble gum eggs, which are the equivalent of smacking your child in the face when he gets them in his Easter basket. Seriously, nobody likes those. And I saw rows and rows of cacao products...

But no Peeps.

I don't know if it was the price or the prospect of Peep destruction, but some enterprising gang of college students must have beaten me to my recompense. Downtrodden, I bought a couple of bags of Cadbury Mini Eggs and left, feeling defeated. Next year, Peeps... next year.

I guess I'm just going to sit here and eat a whole bag of these mini eggs now. And chase it down with a Ben & Jerry's. And watch the Lifetime network.

cRap

2005-03-13T22:47:00.000-08:00

So, this morning, I turned on the Internets to discover that the illustrious 50 Cent has released a new album. Seeing as I have poor taste and can only recognize my cultural identity in the music I listen to, I took a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to seize this little gem. “Hot damn,” says I, “surely, multi-talented singer/songwriter Mr. Cent deserves my hard-earned money far more than I do. And look what quality entertainment he can provide for only $15.00! My God, it’s too good to pass up!”

It had to be mine. Since this was an extra-special occasion, I popped in my monocle, dusted off my hat, shined my shoes, and tossed on my overcoat. I strolled over to the local shop and accosted the nearest fine young chap I could find. I struck up a conversation with a helpful boy whose nametag read “Josh.”

“Excuse me, lad,” I said, “Have you the latest Fifty Cent record? Personally, I find his cadence and diction to be an absolute delight!”

“What?”

“Ah… I’m sorry. Erm, you know, Fifty Cent? Tall, scarred, negroid fellow?”

“Oh, you mean Fitty Cen’.”

“Fifty Cent?”

“Fitty.”

“Excuse me?”

“Fitty.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fitty.”

“Yes, very well. Would you be so kind as to direct me so I might purchase his latest album?”

He pointed without a word. I turned around, and was faced by a rackful of muscled black men staring blankly back at me. And like a 9MM round, it hit me: This is the worst album cover I have ever seen.

I also suddenly realized that even a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant like me could be a rapper. All you sucka MC's got nothin' on me. In fact, just about anyone could. Why be, God forbid, an architect, doctor, or lawyer, when you can be a hip-hop artist? One need only adhere to the following steps to live that dream:

1. Write a song which uses the latest/dumbest ebonics buzzword between 20 and 80 times. (Bonus points if reefer is used as inspiration.) Other necessary musts include beating your ho and/or loving your baby girl, encrusting everything you own with diamonds, and busting some caps in anyone who so much as looks at you funny. Don’t worry if you can’t think of anything original; substituting the occasional round of “mmm”, “uh-huh”, and “yeah” will more than suffice in place of actual lyrics. Talk fast and furiously. The faster and angrier, the better.

2. Set your poetic genius to a phat beat. Use a Casio keyboard if you have nothing else available. It’s okay, nobody will know.

3. Rake in the millions.

4. Congratulations, you are now a rap star.

5. Repeat steps 1 through 3 ad nauseum until either A.) A bigger and better rapper comes around to replace you, B.) You are shot or, C.) Your fans develop common sense. But don’t worry:

6. In the event of A, you will most likely be assimilated into this rapper’s posse as a well-paid underling/partner in crime.

7. In the event of B, you will posthumously generate tenfold the amount of revenue you received in life, and will be praised as an artistic savant for decades to come, as diehard fans everywhere will pour a .40 on the ground to remember your passing.

8. C never happens, unless you’re Vanilla Ice or M.C. Hammer.

Yes, while even I could be busting out phat rhymes in no time, I will never accept rap as a form of music. If anything, it’s closest to an entertainment curiosity, like professional wrestling, just not music. But hey, 1.14 million fans can’t be wrong, can they? It’s okay, Fitty don’t care as long as you keep buying. Hell, I wouldn’t either, if I lived in a house made out of solid gold Ferraris.

But for God's sake, pull up your damn pants.

The Cinderella Syndrome

2005-03-09T00:14:00.000-08:00

If there's one thing that irritates me about popular culture, it's their perception of beauty. I'm not talking about anorexic models, thousand-dollar jackets, breast implants, blonde and tanned sorority girls, or fucking Calvin Klein, even though all of those never fail to nauseate me. (Paris "Painted Whore" Hilton falls into more than one of these categories, but I digress.)

It's the spectacle of spectacles that bothers me. That's right: Glasses, and the girls who wear them.

I'm sure you've all seen it before. Pop in a chick flick or watch one of those insipid makeover shows and you'll know exactly what I mean.

Enter the average girl. In this world of fashion and beauty, average equals ugly. This usually means the girl isn't wearing much makeup, has straight brown hair, and, you guessed it... glasses.

The girl walks onto the show, where she is promptly whisked away to a salon by a flamboyantly homosexual fashion consultant, who shrieks a plaintive cry and laments at how sad and lonely the poor, plain girl must be. She is instantly given a perm and some highlights, has a pound of makeup caked on, and, at the height of her transformation into a better person, has her ugly old glasses whisked off her face. Now she is finally ready to launch into her new, improved life, full of ambition and promise! Teary-eyed, she thanks her benevolent hosts and is on her merry way. Sure, she can't see worth a damn, but who cares about that? Now she can do something she was entirely unable to do before--turn a few heads and maybe even get a grope from some enterprising young frat boy. Truly, she has entered a new stage of development towards a better life.

Because, of course, glasses make you nerdy and unattractive to men, you poor, decrepit, four-eyed scullery maid.

This happens all the time. In movies, too, where every time the dashing protagonist finds he's fallen madly in love with the Cinderella character, they always make it a point for him to sloooowly remove her glasses, (her long, beautiful hair usually automatically falls down across her shoulders at this point) gaze longingly at her newly-revealed beauty, and then proceed to do a tonsil exam. What the hell? You ladies are being conditioned to believe that only after you've cast off your outer shell of a former, bespectacled life, can you suck face with the handsome male lead!

Why is it that we are made to believe that glasses somehow restrict a woman's true, inner beauty? Is it being suggested that they can't find true love or happiness if they look like a total square? Bollocks, I say. Poppycock, I say. Horse feathers, balderdash, and other ridiculous nouns, I say!

I have never once thought glasses were a bad thing, regardless of what Hollywood or MTV wants me to think, nor have I ever viewed a girl as any less attractive because she wore glasses. I remember a long time ago, I went on a youth group trip. Part of this trip included a stop at an artifically-made beach. A girl I had my eye on the entire time had to remove her glasses to go out into the water. I remember telling her, "You look cute without your glasses," even though she actually looked even better with them on. She was still flattered, but I think I found that after that point I was unable to take my eye off a good-looking girl, especially ones with glasses. Hey, I was entering adolescence, what can I say? But I digress again.

I think those so-called "dorky" glasses accentuate a girl's features, and I'm glad to see that those stupidly trendy thick-rimmed emo glasses have come into such popularity. To me, anyway, those 70 grams of plastic or metal add to a girl's appeal, rather than detracting from it.

Case in point? The luverly Cat Schwartz from TechTV:

Rrrrrrow. Oh, and...

Let it be said that I'd take Velma over Daphne any day of the week.

So, Movieland, a big middle finger salute to thee. You, too, MTV.

To the countless classy, glassy girls, don't ever get contacts. Please.

Hygiene

2005-03-05T22:44:00.000-08:00

The story you are about to read is true. None of the names have been changed to protect the innocent, because you already know it's about me, and I'm a numbskull, to boot.

I am a clean person. I bathe every day, wash my hair every other, wear deodorant and sometimes cologne, wear clean clothes and wash them when the need arises, and brush my teeth twice a day. I do my best. I am a clean person... or at least I try to be.

A few days ago, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed as my daily routine dictates. However, when I stuck my electric toothbrush into my mouth as I had done for months on end, I caught a whiff of something unpleasant, almost a taste, even. Something rotten and moldy, like whenever you make a pot of coffee over the weekend and forget to take the filter out for several days or when you clean out your locker at the end of the year and find a fetid peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich festering underneath a pile of school papers. (Both of which have also happened to me, but have not been regular occurences.)

I took a quick look at the bristles. Seeing no visibly foul evidence, I thought nothing of it, and kept brushing. This afternoon, I went into the bathroom to brush before heading off to play a game of dodgeball. Because you know, of course, any girls that might potentially be there would appreciate a fresh mouth, and I'm just so damn irresistable. Precautions... were vital. (Geez, who am I kidding?)

Remembering the other day, I took another look at the device. My toothbrush is a cheap $10 electric one, Oral-Braun, green. I ran some hot water and began rinsing the entire thing off when I turned it over in my hand and noticed the other side. There were two small slots on the back, one where it just began to taper off, and one near the head of the brush, behind the spinning electric bristles.

I brought it under the stream and allowed hot water to flow in the top slot. The water instantly rushed out the second slot, and I quickly realized the two were connected by a hollow shaft. However, the deluge of water brought something unexpected.

Not even a second after water gushed from the end, it was followed by a smattering of moldy black flakes of something. As these chunks continued to be blasted out, my stomach turned when it immediately occured to me that these were rotten bits of food and plaque that had gotten sucked into the top slot every time I brushed.

I winced as the sludge continued to pour out and would not stop. I rotated the brush and allowed water to flow into the other end, which forced out an even larger and more disgusting wave. This continued for some three minutes, until I was fairly convinced I'd cleaned out the majority of the filth. I looked down into the sink. The drain didn't empty very efficiently, but under the small pool of water, all the bits had settled to the bottom like sediment. I couldn't believe how much there was. It looked like someone had tossed a handful of sand onto a plate. Oh, if only I had a digital camera, I'd have shared the experience.

I switched to another sink and waited for the first to drain. After making one final rinse-through, I sniffed the end, and, satisfied with my handiwork, slapped on some Ultrabrite and brushed my teeth. I'd always wondered why, after I brushed at the end of the day and went to bed, I'd wake nearly every morning with a stuffy nose, feeling somewhat sick and debilitated for the next few hours. I put two and two together and realized that not only was this the potential cause of my ailment, I was also a dumbass.

I'm sure you, too, think I'm an ignoramus for not having foreseen this. "Well, duh, Jon, you meatheaded halfwit, you're supposed to clean out your toothbrush daily, didn't you know that?" In my defense, this was the first electric toothbrush I've ever owned, and I don't remember seeing cleaning instructions on the packaging, nor did I even notice both slots before. I promptly disposed of this one, despite the effort I put into cleaning it. My shiny new one, identical to its vile predecessor, will never turn out like its failed, tainted brother. I think we've all learned a valuable lesson today.

Dear children, don't put anything in your mouth if you don't know where it's been. Or how it works.

On that note, how about a kiss, girls? Oh, come on, my teeth are clean.

Editus minor

2005-02-25T08:48:00.000-08:00

It figures that as soon as I finish writing a very long and extensive post on the newest movies hitting the big screen this year, I'd find some more.

One that I forgot to mention was The Jacket, a new independent thriller starring Adrian Brody and the delicious Keira Knightley. I don't really have much in the way of comments, so I'll let the trailer speak for itself. I will say that I'm elated that arthouse movies have gotten as much recent play as they have, because some of the best movies of the past two years have been independent. Some would argue that subjecting flicks like Napoleon Dynamite into the mainstream nullifies the indie factor. I say, "Who cares?" It's not like your favorite underground band or movie will remain obscure forever.

I also forgot to mention Ong-Bak, which just hit select theaters a week or two ago. Yes, it's another martial arts movie with a sub-par plot, or so I hear, but what makes this one stand out is its utter lack of safety nets, wirework, or CG touchups. Yes, it's a movie made like they did back in the days of Bruce Lee. I'll be sure to see this, because I have a special place in my heart for this style of fighting. Or rather, I should say, a special place in my groin, because I once got kneed in the cajones when a friend was sparring with me in the Muay Thai style, but that's another story for another day.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy finally got their non-teaser trailer up. Seeing this prompted me to give the book another read, which I hadn't done in about 7 years.

Oh, and check this out, too. The same director who made the independent rotoscoped film, Waking Life, has made another faux-animated movie, A Scanner Darkly. Looks cool, even if it does star Keanu Reeves.

Now, I wasn't too big on the whole comic book thing when I was growing up. I only collected the Archie Sonic the Hedgehog comic series, but I did so obsessively. For a quick X-Men fix, or anything else, I'd turn to my friends. Of course, my mom would never have let me read something as graphic as Frank Miller's Sin City. But let me tell you one thing. Anything with Bruce Willis, Benicio Del Toro, and Jessica Alba (M'm! M'm! Good!) is an automatic win in my book. The trailer alone won me over. Love that stylized look. Kinda like a cross between Max Payne and Dick Tracy.

I've saved the best for last. I don't know where this one came from, but I guess it's been in development for some time: Mirror Mask. Not much I can say other than "watch this trailer, it's freakin' sweet." It's being co-produced by Neil Gaiman, if that says anything. Neil Gaiman, as you may or may not know, is the driving genius behind The Sandman series of graphic novels. This movie will be a visual masterpiece.

I think I had a fever-induced nightmare once that looked something like this.

And just for the hell of it: GIANT FIGHTING ROBO TETSUJIN 28! Old skool.

So, anyway, to recap,

Movies you should be watching in 2005 schedule:

Appleseed: Released (limited)
Ong-Bak: Released (limited)
The Jacket: March 4
Sin City: April 1
Kung Fu Hustle: April 8 (limited)
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: May 6
Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith: May 19
Howl's Moving Castle: June 10 (limited)
Fantastic Four: July 1
Batman Begins: June 17
War of the Worlds: June 29
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: July 15
Steamboy: October
Land of the Dead: October 21
Corpse Bride: October 31
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire: November 18
Casshern: December
The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe: December 9
Mirror Mask: 2005
Aeon Flux: 2005
The Passion of the Clerks: 2005
Final Fantasy Advent Children: 2005 (DVD)

See you at the movies.

Happy Singles Awareness Day!

2005-02-14T17:03:00.000-08:00

You know those stupid little Valentines you could buy from the Dollar store that featured popular cartoon characters printed on crappy card stock with an assortment of squalid catchphrases? And then you'd put them in your classmate's stupid valentine's mailbox made out of an empty tissue box and red construction paper?

And you know how you'd sit down the day before and sign one for every kid in the classroom, saving the bestest, extra-special one with April O'Neal on it for the cute brunette girl with glasses and braces sitting in the front of the classroom who you maybe sorta kinda liked? And then you gave the one with Rocksteady and Bebop on it to that weird smelly kid in the back of the classroom?

And remember how if you were lucky, that one rich kid's mom would attach a cherry-flavored, heart-shaped sucker to each of his valentines with scotch tape?

And sometimes you'd find an anonymous deposit of those crappy candy hearts with the smarmy sayings on them in your mailbox? You know, the ones made out of chalk and food coloring?

Yeah. I still have all of the valentines I ever got, even as far back as first grade. All of them.

But, golly, I sure wish somebody would send me an obligatory card nowadays. *sniff...*

"I'm going to explode," or, "Things That Rock, Part the Fourth"

2005-01-22T19:42:00.000-08:00

Do you ever get that feeling sometimes when the inner child in your head spins wildly out of control? Something just touches him off and it's like he got injected with pure caffeine. You get goosebumps all over your body, your breathing quickens, and that little rascal just bursts into one long, drawn-out "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!," and with no way of satisfying the urge, you can only post about it in your stupid internet journal so people can read it and become stupid and giddy themselves.

So... do you know what Rocks? I'll tell you what Rocks.

Movies, and the year 2005, but specifically, movies in 2005.

There are so many films coming out this year which absolutely reek of awesomeness. Rest assured that I will somehow see each and every one of these that I'm about to list, or I will most likely explode from anticipation. I've linked nearly every movie to its official trailer, if one is available. I wouldn't have done so if they weren't worth watching. So, first, some foreign flicks:

I've been dying to see Shirow Masamune's Appleseed, which has already hit very select theaters just a week or two ago. I've seen the original, an 80's made anime, and it was pretty lame. The CG cel-shading of this remake is enough of a vast improvement that I'll drop down movie admission to see it. But hey, I love Shirow Masamune stuff anyway. Recently, I've really been getting into Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex, which you can watch currently on Adult Swim. I was also fortunate enough to see a limited screening of Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence in Terre Haute, Indiana, a couple of months ago on an anime club "field trip." You can now buy it everywhere, but they chose really ghey-looking box art for the American DVD release. I highly recommend this movie, too, but be forewarned... it's extremely philosophic, so if you want to see Batou bust a few heads and do his best Aristotle impression while he's at it, this is the movie to watch.

Another Japan-to-America release is Casshern, which, I am told, is loosely based off of a late 70's anime by the same name. My roommate didn't like it, but then again, I don't value his opinion very much. Now, I don't claim to be an expert on movies, but I do watch a lot of them, and I can usually detect a real stinker from the trailer alone. (*coughCatwomancough*) This one, if nothing else, looks to be a good action movie, but I think it'll be more than that. U.S. release date: December 2005.

Steamboy is being dubbed for its American release, featuring an all star cast with Anna Paquin as Ray Steam, Alfred Molina as Eddie Steam, and Patrick Stewart as Lord Steam. This movie, unfortunately, tanked in Japan, even though it cost approximately $20 million to make, a new precedent for an anime movie's budget. I'm still eager to see it, because I'm fond of Katsuhiro Otomo's direction on movies such as Akira, Memories, and Metropolis. U.S. release date: October 2005.

Sometimes you just stumble onto a movie and absolutely have to see it. Kung Fu Hustle is one of those movies that falls into that category. This is the sequel to Shaolin Soccer, another kung fu movie which kicks all sorts of ass. And soccer balls. Hopefully, Hustle will eventually get licensed by a more competent company than Miramax, who bought out the rights to a U.S. release of Shaolin Soccer years ago, and sat on their hands until late last year when they finally released it on DVD. It'll have a limited U.S. theatrical release in March.

I have yet to see a Miyazaki film I didn't like, so I hold very high standards for whatever Studio Ghibli sends our way. The latest one from Japan is Howl's Moving Castle, which will see a limited U.S. release on June 3. Even if it is dubbed, (and since Disney has exclusive rights to releasing Ghibli films in the U.S., it probably will be) I can't stress enough how excellent it is that American audiences, especially young people, get to see these films, regardless of whatever form they may take.

I hear that MTV-funded cult anime Aeon Flux will be produced as a movie sometime in 2005. And that's all I can really say about that, other than that Peter Chung's animation is really damn creepy.

Oh, and SquareEnix needs to hurry up and release Final Fantasy: Advent Children. This movie will kick all kinds of unprecedented ass. Its release keeps getting pushed back, but if all goes well, the Japanese DVD will be out this Spring. And for the record, I actually enjoyed Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, even though the plot was disappointing.

Okay, now that you're thoroughly sick of Japanese movies, here's some upcoming American films that make me do a little dance of happiness:

First off, Fantastic Four, a movie that gives me mixed emotions. There were so many Marvel movies that I wanted to succeed, I really did, but they bombed anyway. I just hope this movie becomes the next X-Men, and doesn't go the way of The Hulk, or the horrible FF movie from ten years ago, because just seeing glimpses of Dr. Doom's armor gives me goosebumps. That's a good sign. I'm also glad that they didn't attempt some shitty CG excuse for The Thing, but gave the actor a rubber monkey suit instead. Low-tech, but hey, it still looks cool. I am a little put off seeing Jessica Alba as The Invisible Woman, but that's probably because I'm used to her as Dark Angel. This role just doesn't seem to fit her. Also, Johnny Storm's "You know that looked cool" line at the end causes me to cringe. It's not cheesy enough, just lame. Fantastic Four is all about cheese. The heroes themselves are total squares. That's why if Ben Grimm doesn't say "It's clobberin' time!" at least once, I'll have to break something. Come July 1, we'll see what fate has in store for this one.

Next is one I've been waiting for. A Tim Burton, Danny Elfman, and Johnny Depp creation? Hell yes. Even though I'll be first in line at the theater, somehow, I don't think that Charlie and the Chocolate Factory will entirely live up to my expectations. First, my gripes: this actor I'm watching doesn't really seem like Johnny Depp, and it doesn't really seem like Willy Wonka. I'm not sure how exactly to put it. Maybe it's just that I think that nothing can live up to Gene Wilder's performance in the original. Secondly, I want a movie that's clever and visually attractive. The latter already doesn't appear to have been a problem for the filmmakers. It's the script I'm worried about.

A movie needs to work on many different levels, and not be comprised of humor that can be taken at face value. Case in point: sight gags. A good movie shouldn't have to pander to the intellectually devoid members of the audience. Even children can appreciate an appropriately well-written joke for years to come. And even if they don't understand it, when they watch the movie later down the road, they'll see and enjoy something new that they weren't able to comprehend before. I don't want to see a movie with stupid sight gags, such as Depp smacking into a plastic door right in front of the camera. If I was an eight-year-old kid, I might start giggling uncontrollably, but when I watch it ten years later, I'd just groan and look away. This is why Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is such a classic. Wilder's dialog and delivery are top-notch. Depp's "Chewing gum is really gross, chewing gum I hate the most" line just comes off as annoying and sarcastic.

/complaints

I still believe this movie will be a box office smash, even if it is borrowing from the success of its predecessor. I don't have any doubts as to their treatment of the Oompa-Loompas, as their character design has been fairly well-established over the years. I also believe that this Burton movie will be appropriately dark, but not too much so. I'm sure there won't be a disturbing "boat tunnel" scene (which I actually enjoyed the first time I watched it) like the last movie, which, I have read, was cut from a recent TV broadcast of the original movie. All minor complaints aside, this movie appears to be a real treat, hyuk hyuk.

While I'm still praising Burton/Elfman/Depp, I'd also better mention Corpse Bride, another collaboration between the three. I loved The Nightmare Before Christmas, and this movie is in the same style of stop-motion animation. There just aren't enough of these gothy, creepy movies made nowadays. I've got a spooky little gloomcookie ladyfriend of mine who'd love to see this with me. It's been quite a while since I saw her, though, so I'm a little afraid that she might try to feast on my blood while I'm distracted. Seriously.

May is the month that the geeks will swarm the theaters, as the month will see the release of both Star Wars Ep. III: Revenge of the Sith on the 19th and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on the 6th. I don't have much to say about Star Wars, other than "please don't suck." My respect for George Lucas is already about as low as it can get. I really don't need another reason to kill him at this point. As for Hitchhiker's Guide, I also want this movie to succeed, and I think it will, even though I doubt it will present itself to a very large audience aside from those already loyal to the books. I haven't read any of the books in a long, long time, so I can't say how faithful it will be. (That, and the trailer really isn't very informative...) However, before the purists start complaining, (and they will) it should be known that Douglas Adams himself wrote the screenplay for this particular adaptation before he died, God rest his soul. I trust that his treatment of his own series will turn out just fine. 42.

Another sci-fi flick I'll be sure to check out is Spielberg's The War of the Worlds on May 29th. The trailer doesn't have much substance to it, but hey, Tom Cruise is in it. Apparently, it also takes place on present day. I would have much preferred to have seen one closer to H.G. Wells' vision, during the turn of the century, but I really can't complain too much. Again, though, I'm always a little too optimistic when it comes to both science fiction films and Steven Spielberg. I thought A.I. was going to rock, when, in fact, it didn't.

One more movie that falls squarely into the "please don't suck" category is Batman Begins. Two solid reasons why this movie will at least be leaps and bounds above Batman Forever and Batman & Robin is 1) Christian Bale is Batman, and 2) This Batman suit does not have bat-nipples. In my opinion, Christian Bale is one of the finer rising actors in Hollywood. I loved him in Equilibrium, a rockin' movie in its own right, and I also recently got to see The Machinist, his most recent movie, where you can see check out both him and his ribcage as a sexy 130-pound sickly shell of a man. America was in need of some Batman, and on June 17, I think this movie is going to deliver.

If you know me well, then you'd know that I'm a huge George Romero fan. I have every zombie movie he's made, so I'm bursting at the seams in anticipation of Land of the Dead, his sequel to Day of the Dead. As this movie's still in production, there's no trailer, but this movie marks the culmination of the series, in which the few surviving humans attempt to overthrow the even fewer, wealthier survivors who have holed themselves up in skyscrapers, while the zombies, outnumbering humans approxmately 100,000 to 1, are steadily evolving into more advanced killing machines. Anyway, Romero's got until October 21 to impress me.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is out on November 18. Azkaban blew me out of the water by being far better than I anticipated, so I have high hopes for this one, as well. With all the violence and a darker plot in this book, though, I wouldn't be surprised if this one hits the editing room more than once, or garners a PG-13 rating. And Harry Potter is still Emo.

And finally, the icing on the cake for me was when I discovered that WETA, the evil geniuses behind the effects in Lord of the Rings, had been working on a new project for some time. I nearly choked on my chicken nuggets when I found out that a new Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe was in production. From an early age, I read all of C.S. Lewis' books and watched the three BBC-produced movies based on the first book, Dawn Treader, and The Silver Chair. This movie also has a helluva budget, around $300 million, which is about how much the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy cost. This movie is going to be absolutely stellar, and will be out on December 6. I will be counting down the days.

I only saw a handful of movies last year, but I'll probably set a personal record for movie-viewing this year.

And don't even get me started on video games.

Ouch, my hard drive...

2005-01-13T06:10:00.000-08:00

My computer contracted an STD yesterday, and it only went downhill from there. I guess I was browing the internets without protection, and this is what happened to me. No, I wasn't visiting any porn sites. In fact, it was something RealPlayer-related, apparently.

I thought my computer had taken a messy shit all over itself, because it was acting like it had no RAM. Everything loaded like molasses traveling uphill, or didn't load at all. Attempting to fix the problem on my own today, I went and removed some unnecessary programs, ran my anti-spyware stuff, and started a virus scan, which got to about 75% before the screensaver popped on and crashed everything. I assumed that it was still just something internal or that I'd accidentally deleted an important program file somewhere along the way. (Not likely... I may be dumb, but I'm not stoopid.)

So, realizing that I possessed little to no technical prowess myself, I enlisted the aid of Kevin, a guy on my floor affectionately (okay, so there's no actual affection involved) known as "fat retard." He is definitely overweight, and acts like a complete dumbass most of the time, but for a retard, he's pretty handy when it comes to fixing computers. He scanned poor, ailing Xenophon with Disk Doctor, cleaned out unneeded files, and did just about everything that I was too ignorant to do myself. Unfortunately, he came up empty-handed, and I sent him away to go eat something while I stressed over the possibility of having to format my hard drive.

I went to go chew the fat with my good friend Zack to calm my nerves a bit, and decided to run McAfee one more time before I left. The instant I slipped on my jacket and headed towards the door, I glanced over and noticed a virus had been detected in my RealPlayer documents folder almost immediately. My spirits rose, and I knew my problem was probably being addressed.

Returning two hours later, I found out the reason why my computer was reporting FLAGRANT ERROR:

I had 919 viruses on my computer.

Yeah.

Apparently, this particular one was a worm, which kept replicating itself through my printer drivers folder or something and mucked up the whole system. The scan and cleanup took 6 hours, but now my computer is back to normal, and I can get my internet fix. There's probably a lesson to be learned here, but I'm way too tired to think about it.

Happy New Year, I guess

2004-12-31T20:06:00.000-08:00

I have a feeling that there will be copius consumption of alcohol by me on this day in the following years.

But let's get down to business. Everyone else on the interbutt is blogging about their various New Year's resolutions, so I might as well take this as an opportunity to do so myself.

I vow, more or less, in the year of Twenty Aught Five, to accomplish the following:

-Find a decent-paying job that doesn't require preparation of fast food

-Even though I made this vow months ago, to continue my boycott on McDonald's "food"

-Study harder and more often. There were two classes last semester that didn't sit very well with my tastes, and ended up dragging my GPA down a tad. This semester's classes will be far better and more interesting to me.

-Actually be online on MSN Messenger more often. I didn't talk with my friends nearly as much as I should have this semester, and I feel bad about it.

-Get my driver's license. Go ahead and ridicule me about this if you want, everyone else already has. I never saw a need for it, since I don't own a car, have a perfectly functional bicycle, and would rather not pay out the arse for gasoline, but I figure I'd better get it sooner or later.

-Find a nice girl and ask her out. This is last on the list because I still am not sure how I can best accomplish this, so it will most likely take some time. I don't need your advice, I've heard it all already. This is something that only I need to concern myself with, and once I find the right girl, perhaps I might actually work up enough confidence.

For he's a jolly good fellow, which nobody can deny. Huzzahs and kissing all around, confetti, and whatever.

All I wanted for Christmas...

2004-12-30T23:41:00.000-08:00

...was peace and goodwill toward men. Well, not really, but I'm not too picky about what I get nowadays. And I've had my two front teeth for quite some time now, thankyouverymuch.

I remember not even 5 years ago when I was all about the toys and video games. Oh, and money, that's always a keeper. This Christmas was one of the more sparse ones I've celebrated in a while, but I actually didn't mind. If this was the extent of the giftage to a fourteen-year-old me, I would have felt *ahem* Grinched.

I guess when you're a kid, all you see are the material things, but the things that your parents always cherish, warmth and good feelings associated with giving, and not receiving, gifts, takes a while to grow on you. I guess it finally sank in this year. I just wish I could actually afford to give something worthwhile to everyone, but until I can secure a job, homemade hot cocoa and pencil sketches will have to suffice, I guess. It's a shame Kevin had to sell Franzexpress. It was the best and first major-paying job I had, as well as the longest one I've held.

But enough reminiscence. I was still quite pleased with my gifts this year. I received:

From my parents: $50
From my uncle: A spiffy black T-shirt (No finer color!)
From my other uncle: A DVD and CD
From my aunt: $10 Barnes & Noble Gift Card
From my grammy: $50, $30 Kohl's Gift Card, two nice shirts, a few silver dollars, and natural soap made from olive oil (Don't know where that last one came from, but still, healthy skin is a must.)
Finally, from Miss Jillian: A Livestrong bracelet

I mostly buy my own gifts, and when I can afford to, I treat myself to only the best movies and music. No better judge on what my tastes are, right? I was still very satisfied with what I received, though. Part of the fun is in the surprise, even though there was little of that. I had actually asked for clothes from my uncle and grammy. When I was a young teen, clothes were the booby gift at Christmas, but I was really in need of some.

As for the apparently randomly selected DVD and CD from my other uncle, they consisted of Space Cowboys, and an album by Switchfoot. Hey... it's the thought that counts, right? Unfortunately, I'll never watch that movie, and I rarely listen to punk music, so they were exchanged for Best Buy store credit, and somehow magically transformed into two CDs: Beethoven's Last Night by Trans-Siberian Orchestra, and The Odyssey by Symphony X. Between a masterful rock opera and a progressive metal album based on Homer's epic, I'm a pretty happy Who down in Whoville.

The only other thing on my list is the Shaun of the Dead DVD. Man, is that thing ever hard to find...

Repent, sinners!

2004-12-30T12:47:00.000-08:00

Repent, ye fallen! The end of days is upon thee! Lo, the time draws near in which one might redeem thy holy Subway Stamps, for the promotion endeth on the morrow!

Repent, redeem, and save, while ye still can!

Welcome to my crack addiction...

2004-12-23T19:17:00.000-08:00

I never thought I'd find myself playing an MMORPG, especially while I'm off at college. Ever since I saw the debilitating effects that games such as Everquest, and subsequently, Dark Age of Camelot, and Final Fantasy XI, had on my friends when they first started to surface into the mainstream years ago, I wasn't sure I wanted to end up like that. It's true that I did spend countless hours playing my RPGs during the summer months, but I didn't let them consume my life. I still ate meals regularly, bathed, and got around 8 hours of sleep a night, all while setting time aside to do other, more productive things.

I won't deny that those games are fun, because they are. I won't deny that they're addictive, because they are unquestionably so. I always told myself that if I had the time and money, I'd probably be playing one. Even at college, I can't study for hours without a break, so I turned to a recent discovery: Maple Story. I thought it would be an innocent little escape.

I have a problem.

Well, maybe not so much that, since it hasn't proved overly problematic. But I know for sure that I'm addicted. I've been known to sacrifice a meal in order to gain a level. That's normal... right?

Maple Story is somewhat different than other MMORPGs. The most attractive aspect to me is that it's free. Visually, it's a side-scrolling, platform game, like a combination between Sonic the Hedgehog and Ragnarok Online.

I quickly found myself caught up in every little thing about the game--the constant level grind, the search for rare and valuable items, and the prestige gained from towering over newer players. Pff. Stupid noobs.

My primary character is a female Rogue named Konstanze. Unlike other games, you can only create female characters with a separate, female account. Thus, Maple Story is primarily populated by male characters. The female players, while few in number, still exist, but I'm sure they're mostly just guys who wanted to play someone different, too.

I love this game, but it's not without its problems. As it is a free game, Maple Story draws in an excessive number of younger players--irritating younger players with the verbal capacity of a burnt hot dog. I want to choke every person I see who has an unoriginal or stupid player name. I've lost count of how many people I've seen with some variation of "azn" or any random assortment of letters or numbers above their character's head. I would pay to know how many of those teenagers actually are Asian.

Also, playing a female character tends to draw unwanted attention from all sorts of little wankers just entering puberty. The other day, as I entered Kerning City, the thief town, a trade request popped up in my menu tray, so I opened it up into the chat window. This is the following conversation, word-for-word:

Konstanze: Yes?
Asshat: do you like $ex? (The online filter blocks naughty language, so he had to make an effort to show me that he was thinking with his penis.)
Me: ...
Asshat: i think you're $exy (Okay, kid... if you're attracted to a bloody video game sprite about 100 pixels tall, you seriously need some help.)

At this point, I knew this kid's emotions were like putty in my hands. This little freak had probably never even touched a girl in his life. What a shame. Too bad he missed his mark again. (I guess I am pretty attractive for a female Rogue, nyohohoho...)

Me: Hey, want to know something really $exy? (The Bait.)
Him: what? (Hooked.)
Me: I'm actually a guy playing a female character! Isn't that hot? ^_^ (Dumbass.)

Half a second after this comment, I see "The chat was cancelled by the other player." Bwa ha ha... what a buzzkill. Following this, I went into the weapon store to buy my new equipment. When I re-emerged, I had another request pop up. Somehow, I had a feeling it was that wanker again, so I was almost eager to burn him again. Sure enough, it was.

Asshat: are you male or female? (Couldn't learn his lesson, I guess.)
Konstanze: I already told you, you little perv, I'm a guy.
The chat was cancelled by the other player.

Next time some jerkoff tries to hit on me, I'm just going to play along for a while... because I'm evil like that.

Holy crap.

2004-12-06T08:55:00.000-08:00

Wow. Just... wow.

I'm not going to go into detail about what I think about the cost. War is costly, there's no denying that. Look at the approximated costs from World War II, a war, which, in my mind, was completely necessary. (Source: brook.edu)

All bombs, mines and grenades — $31.5 billion

Small arms materiel (not incl. ammunition) — $24 billion

All tanks — $64 billion

Heavy field artillery — $4 billion

All other artillery — $33.6 billion

Plus the cost of the Manhattan Project at $20 billion

I will say that I believe the Iraq War was the best action we could have possibly taken and leave it at that. I don't want to play the anti-war protestor saying "OMG bring our soldiers home now!", but instead say "Support Our Troops."

Just think about it for a while.

OMGWTFBBQ

2004-12-03T10:45:00.000-08:00

You might remember my post from the end of October about weird, off-color, or strangely ingenious musicals.

My mad internet-scouring skills have uncovered another one. Someone, probably a disillusioned theater major, has created a bastardization of the movie Karate Kid by transforming it into one of the most twisted, perverted, and offensive travesties I've ever seen. Wax on, wax off, indeed. All the more reason to check it out here. Or not.

Ow, my childhood!

No! Very No!

2004-12-02T15:48:00.000-08:00

Oh, what a tragic tale! Pedro's tears flow like waterfalls! Hearken to the sadness below:

This afternoon, I went to rustle up some grub at the local Subway, because, you know, I love the subs.

I pointed my finger defiantly at the sandwich artist and commissioned him to create a culinary masterpiece that DaVinci himself would sketch, and then devour, namely, a twelve-inch Italian BMT on Italian Herb & Cheese bread, with American cheese, honey mustard, lettuce, pickles, tomatoes, and green peppers, toasted, if you please. I'm not sure what "BMT" actually stands for, but I call it Big, Meaty, and Tasty, because it is.

The sandwich scrub obliged, and passed my sammich over to the drop-dead-gorgeous-but-most-likely-not-single bespectacled redheaded gal who graces the register with her beauty every time I order there. I snapped out of the mesmerizing trance I was in and realized that I still needed to pay for my sandwich.

I did so, and asked for stamps, as I always do, because I'm a savvy consumer who knows the value of saving money. I fell into her deep, azure-green eyes as she looked over her glasses frames that complimented her perky, freckled nose, and said, "I'm sorry, sir, the Sub Club program has been discontinued." As much as being called "sir" inflates my ego of manliness, I was shocked and appalled at the prospect of no more free subs with the nominal purchase of a fountain drink. I picked up my shattered spirit and returned to the room to eat my keep in sorrow.

Geez, and I almost had enough for a free foot-long, too. Subway stamps have been around as long as I can possibly remember, and apparently, they make for a pretty hot commodity on eBay. I guess these people haven't heard the news yet.

Apparently, though, Subway's introducing the "My Subway Card" as a replacement. For every dollar you spend, you get a "point". Whoop-dee-freakin'-do. And for now, it's only available in participating Restaurant locations throughout Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Nevada, New York and Massachusetts. Like anybody actually lives in those states, anyway.

It just ain't the same, man. Besides, the glue on the back of those stamps is really tasty.

"Variety is the spice of life"

2004-11-29T07:50:00.000-08:00

Isn't that what your parents have always told you? Here's another: "Everything in moderation." We all know that too much of even a good thing can be a bad thing.

Super Size Me!, perhaps one of my all-time favorite documentaries, while interesting to watch, is essentially only a glamorized science fair project with a "no duh!" conclusion. Of course you're going to become fat and unhealthy from eating nothing from McDonald's food for a month. Super Size Me! makes for good entertainment, but addresses a question that no one really needed to have answered. Now, allow me to segue into my next point.

Within the last month, PepsiCo released Special Edition Pepsi Holiday Spice. I, having always leaned more towards Pepsi than Coke, bought a few cans to try for myself. It's good, but there's only a subtle taste difference from regular Pepsi. It's faint, but there's a slight hint of... something. Nutmeg? Cinnamon? Arabic Gum? I don't know. Regardless, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to conclude that an excess in soda consumption causes weight gain, attributed to all the extra sugar you're putting into your diet. All the extra chemicals, especially those found in diet sodas, aren't exactly doing anything beneficial for your body, either.

So why do we have this guy vowing to drink no other liquids, save for Holiday Spice, until Christmas?

I'll tell you why. It's teh Intarweb, and the rule is that anything goes if it'll get you attention. I don't know if that's what this brave (read: stupid) young man is seeking, but he's definitely gotten it. His site, which has been getting thousands of hits, is the fifth listed on a Google search for "Pepsi Holiday Spice", and he was even interviewed by local NBC and FOX stations in his native town of Los Angeles. FOX even donated 100 two-liters of the brew towards his cause.

His little project won't be without dire consequences, and he deserves what he gets, says I. He's allowed himself only Pepsi Spice to drink, even substituting "Spice Ice" cubes for his normal frozen drink coolers. While he is eating fairly regularly, he's even implemented the Pepsi into some of his meal recipes, such as his Thanksgiving turkey. (Even Pepsi has some recipes of their own on their Holiday Spice site. Blech.) According to his blog, which he's been using to report updates of his progress, he's been suffering from bloody noses, dry, itchy skin, unnaturally-colored urine, and constant diarrhea, as well as a weight gain of about 20 pounds. He's had to take long showers to rehydrate himself. It seems his girlfriend left him, and he's suffering from mild dementia.

I wager that sicky-boy drops dead in two weeks.

Maybe he should take pointers from this guy, who drinks nothing but Pepsi Cola.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go drink a nice tall glass of WATER.

head in hands

2004-11-18T13:35:00.000-08:00

Have you ever been so exhausted from the stress of an already-long day that you laid down to take a nice, revitalizing nap, not worrying about the outstanding schoolwork to finish for the next day?

Then you wake up a few hours later in the middle of the night, having had the best slumber ever, and having experienced your first peaceful dreams in months, only to realize that you're back in that cruel, pounding reality, with even less time for that work than you had before?

I'm having a homework hangover.

[Angst angst angst omitted]

[edit]

Okay, it's 1:30 and I just got out of class. The verdict is in: I rock. I somehow managed to write a speech from scratch not even 6 hours before class begins and give a great performance to the accolades of the crowd. I'm normally not bad at procrastinating, but it was kind of forced this time, since I had two tests prior to the speech that demanded excessive amounts of studying. Given the situation and the time constraints I was under, I think I did really well for myself.

One more day of class and I can finally go home.

/edit

Things that Rock, part III

2004-11-10T07:29:00.000-08:00

Do you know what rocks? I'll tell you what rocks.

Indie soda company, baby.

If you've never had a Jones before, then I pity you, but I also understand. Like Bawls, you can't just find Jones Soda anywhere. You have to want it. You have to seek it out. Be one with the soda.

The Charleston BP Gas Station, also my local Bawls supplier, has about four or five different flavors. You can check their locator here to find a listing of all Illinois dealers.

There's something about this soda that makes it so desirable. For one, it just tastes better. I bought a Jones Cream Soda the other day, and man, was it ever refreshing. They make it so good, it's like they actually want you to enjoy their product, or something. Two, it's the black-and-white photos adorning every bottle. Every label is another still image of everyday life, from the classic Americana to the artsy-fartsy, adding more to the feel-good factor. You can even get your own photos on some bottles of your flavor of choice at MyJones. Neato!

Last, but easily the coolest, is the variety. You've got Watermelon, Chocolate Fudge, Cream Soda, Ginger Ale, Root Beer, Black Cherry, Green Apple, Vanilla Cola, Lemon Drop, Blue Bubblegum, Fufu Berry, Orange & Cream, BF Grape, Berry Lemonade, Cherry, Crushed Melon, and Strawberry Lime to choose from, with new flavors constantly on the way.

And if that wasn't enough, Jones occasionally releases limited-edition flavors. Last Thanksgiving they made approximately 6,000 bottles of Turkey & Gravy-flavored soda.

You heard me.

They sold out of last year's in a matter of days online, and they now go for about $16 a bottle on eBay. Seeing this as a foul, but marketable idea, Jones is again releasing limited-edition flavors on the 11th for this year's Thanksgiving.

New to this year's lineup are Green Bean Casserole, Mashed Potato, Cranberry, and Fruitcake.

Just like Mom used to make!

Post-election predictions

2004-11-03T16:25:00.000-08:00

It's official. John Kerry has conceded, and George W. Bush will remain in office for his second and final term. I've been confident for some months that Bush was going to win.

I'd rather not debate about my political views, or the implications over who's "right" and who's "wrong". I simply took a side and stood for it. For that reason, I'd rather avoid lengthy arguments over candidates with other people, since that's best left to Senators and House members. Don't hate the player, hate the game.

I will say, however, that I've gained some respect for Kerry for making his decision not to make a chaotic mess out of this election and drag it out for months. Anyone can brag about winning, but it takes a true man to admit when he's defeated.

So, with that said, here's my personal predictions on the weeks and months following this election:

- Republican college students celebrate their candidate's victory by drinking much beer. College Democrats, disillusioned over their candidate's loss, mitigate their broken pride by drinking much beer.

- Talentless, intemperate rapper Sean "P. Diddy" Coombs, his "Vote Or Die" campaign over and having run out of people to harass into voting, opts to bust a cap in his own ass.

- Corpulent Liberal filmmaker Michael Moore sits jobless in the streets. Passerby pay five dollars to hock loogies on him.

- John Kerry, having spent millions of campaign dollars, goes slightly insane, grows a beard, and teaches an advanced Political Science course at a local college.

- Thousands of Democratic whiners, refusing to face another four years of Bush, flock to Canada, get drunk on Labatt Blue, and are promptly torn apart by wild grizzly bears.

- Giant meteors threaten earth! Bruce Willis dispatched to destroy this threat, dies horrible death. Four horsemen of the apocalypse appear; streets run red with Heinz ketchup.

Quid Pro Quo

2004-10-31T16:03:00.000-08:00

I'm a fan of musicals. Been so from a young age. I got the CATS soundtrack when I was 11, I think, and I've taken every opportunity to catch whatever musical was on PBS's Great Performances and attend various local productions. I've never yet been to Broadway before, though, and I'm a little saddened that now I'll never have a chance to see CATS live.

We all know that not every musical will become a masterpiece like The Phantom of the Opera or Les Miserables.

Take, for instance, Trey Parker's Cannibal! The Musical. Yes, this is the South Park boys' first foray into cinema, produced on a shoestring budget. It's somewhat hard to find aside from various internet sources. Amateur acting and campy songs aside, it's actually pretty amusing, so check it out at least once.

Apparently, there's also been a relatively successful Evil Dead musical, in which audience members are splashed with copious amounts of blood.

There's been a musical adaptation of Stephen King's Carrie, which turned out to be a total dog.

You knew somebody would eventually make a Star Wars musical. Behold! (With mp3 goodness)

Some time ago, one episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer presented as a musical. Buffy rocks. Give those songs a listen here.

And finally, for your listening (dis)pleasure, I give you:
Silence! The Musical! You'll definitely get a kick out of this one!

(Please don't kill me...)

(edit) Found one more, but I couldn't find an official site.

'Nuff said.
/edit

Things that Rock, part II

2004-10-24T10:28:00.000-07:00

Do you know what rocks? I'll tell you what rocks.

Bawls energy drink.

You may have seen the beverage before at Thinkgeek, who sell them in cases of 24. Bawls isn't as widespread or easy to find as, say, Mountain Dew's AMP, or SoBe's Adrenaline Rush, but is well worth seeking.

On a whim, I used the Bawls locator to see if any were in the area. Sho' nuff, I was surprised, but pleased to find that they carry the brew at our local BP gas station here in Charleston. I bought a couple, and ran home to drink my newfound quarry at once. Rockin'.

Bawls is a carbonated drink, and has a taste that I really can't describe in words. It's got Guarana in it, which I think is some kind of tropical form of refreshingness. Let's just say that if blue was a fruit, it would taste like blue. We'll leave it at that.

Costing approximately $1.75 per 10-oz. bottle, Bawls is actually cheaper than a can of Red Bull, and far, far more tasty. I had a really bad experience with Red Bull some time back. Don't ask. 1 bottle has about the same amount of caffeine as a cup of brewed coffee, so it's a suitable replacement for non-coffee drinkers, albeit a bit more expensive.

The coolness factor alone of a bottle of Bawls makes it almost worth buying. The distinct cobalt-blue bumpy bottle is one of the prettiest consumer glassware products I've seen, and actually amplifies the refreshment on behalf of the drinker. Okay, not really, but I like to think that it does.

But check this out. One fan made this sweet chandelier out of empty bottles:

If that doesn't just reek of badassness, then I don't know what does.

Bawls also makes mints, in case you're interested.

I'm hoarding my bottles. Even though I don't know what to do with 'em yet, they're just too cool to throw away.

You need this game.

2004-10-21T06:19:00.000-07:00

Okay. Stop whatever you're doing. Get up right now and go to your favorite video game outlet and find Katamari Damacy. For you kanji buffs out there, that's 塊魂。

Literally translated, Katamari Damacy means "Soul Chunk". Mmm... yeah.

This Namco PS2 title literally came out of nowhere--over the summer in Japan, and only about a month or so ago in America, but already it's surprisingly difficult to find. It retails new for $20, but you'll have to shop around for it. I hadn't even heard about it until Penny Arcade made a comic about it, but it piqued my interest enough that I borrowed it from a friend who happened to have just purchased it. I only played it for an hour and I knew that I had to have it.

I'm not even exaggerating when I say that this game is just about the most unique and innovative ones I've ever played. It's a breath of fresh air in the midst of all the overpriced licensed crap that's cranked out nowadays.

The general story behind the game is that after a wild night of boozing, the King of All Cosmos went on a drunken intergalactic joyride, destroying all of the stars in the sky in the process. Racked with guilt over his mistake, he orders his son, the Prince of All Cosmos, to go to Earth and create new stars from the abundant resources located there.

You play as this little guy.

How to do this, you ask? Much akin to a dung beetle rolling his little brown ball of poo, you roll anything and everything around you into a ball of junk, which at the appropriate size, your omnipotent dad turns into a new star. Weird? Unquestionably. Addictive? Hell yes.

You start off in a house with a very small Katamari, accumulating things like thumbtacks, caramels, dice, erasers, and yen coins, and as your Katamari grows, you're gradually able to progress to larger items: lipstick, tape rolls, pencils, and so on. Eventually, you'll be able to roll up clothes, toys, larger household items, all of the furniture in the house, and eventually, even its occupants. It's sadistically fun to hear the people yelling and screaming when you roll them up along with their houses.

For the final level, in a spectacular display of kleptomania, you are commissioned to create a new moon, which involves you rolling up literally everything on the surface of the earth, eventually even the islands in the oceans and clouds in the sky.

This game is actually fairly easy, involving the use of both joysticks on the PS2 controller for movement. You can beat it in a day, but the replay value is great, as you'll want to keep coming back to each level to collect missing items, rare items, or just to beat your old record. There is also a two-player mode in which you can roll your opponent up into your Katamari. And, of course, the music is stupid-catchy. It'll play in your head hours after you're done. (Naa-nanananana-na-na-nana-na-nana-naa! Dontu wolly, do yo best~! Picnic kibun feel so good~! Suteki na afternoon~! Uh! ^_^)

You're guaranteed to frighten your neighbors with this game. I had a few guys walk by my open door and say "What the @#$%?", but still stood there and watched me play for about 25 minutes.

Best $20 I've spent this month.

ARGH no

2004-10-15T07:23:00.000-07:00

They done made a t.A.T.u. anime.

http://www.tatu-paragate.jp/index.html

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.

We've pussified our playgrounds...

2004-10-12T12:38:00.000-07:00

This entry is dedicated to the good old times, many of which may be gone now, but never forgotten.

I don't often wax nostalgic about my childhood, but I don't claim not to miss it, either. You've often heard the expression, "Everything I needed to know I learned in Kindergarten," and it's all too true. Being an adult rocks, but looking back, much of what I know today I learned on the playground.

As a kid, when you're not in class learning your times tables or conjugating verbs, you were probably outside doing what kids do best. I can confidently say that those were indeed the best of times and the worst of times. Every day, I was observing something new and different:

I learned about sex when I found a used condom in the hole of a tree, which ultimately became known as "The Condom Tree". No, I didn't touch it.

I learned about drugs when I found a used syringe near the fence. No, I didn't touch that, either.

Most frequently, though, I learned about pain, either firsthand, or having been witness to some of the most spectacular injuries I've ever seen in my life.

I went to Jefferson Elementary School for Kindergarten through Third Grade, and Northwest Elementary through Sixth. The following year when I entered Junior High, I unwittingly gave up one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

I have no idea how old it really was, but if I had to guess, I'd surmise that the playground at Jefferson was at least 30 or 40 years old. We had a tin slide and two wooden see-saws. The Jungle Gym was mostly constructed out of welded metal bars, interspersed with cracked and discolored plastic, the basketball court was crumbling black asphalt, and the year prior to my First Grade year, they'd constructed a metal geodesic dome. Northwest's playground was larger and somewhat newer, but not much safer. Plenty of metal suspended over concrete, and every opportunity to injure oneself.

The playground I remember was not unlike this.

For those first seven grades of school, I saw just about every single possible bloody interaction between child and playground fixture.

I've seen various limbs broken from surface-to-air swing launches or from gravity's attraction to hanging children. I've seen more cuts, scrapes, and bruises than I ever care to see again. I've seen rocks and wood chips embedded in flesh. I've seen blackened eyes aplenty from contact with every ball associated with every sport. I saw my friend suffer a concussion when he was hit in the temple with a metal bat. I myself sprained my arm very badly in an acrobatic feat which wasn't really much of a feat. Hell, even our basketball court was a slaughterhouse, stained with years' blood loss of the unfortunate.

My brother related his stories to me once, too. He once saw a kid faceplant the cold November earth from the monkey bars and become promptly frozen there, only to be extricated some minutes later by a janitor and a shovel. He told gruesome tales of seeing bloodied patients between classes in the school's emergency ward, which contained a pseudo-operating table and enough gauze to soak up an ocean.

Injuries were a sort of twisted spectator sport on the playground. Instead of running off for help, nearby observers would form a vulture-like circle around the injured, who writhed in pain all the while. Fortunately, the teachers had learned to spot these macabre gatherings and respond immediately, so help was usually readily available.

But modern playgrounds differ greatly from those of yesteryear. We've become a lot of sissy, politically-correct, ultra-sensitive, overprotective "guardians", trying to shield our children from even the slightest of dangers.

Remember these? *Pff!* Gone. You don't see them anymore. Why? Because our society has become so frivolous that every little incident is an opportunity for a lawsuit. Unfairly treated? Bam, lawsuit. Superficial injury? Bam, lawsuit. I was in Sixth Grade only 9 or so years ago. That wasn't even a decade ago, and such injuries were then seen only as unfortunate accidents, end of story. Nobody raised a stink about it being the school's fault, because it wasn't. (And in most lawsuits nowadays, still isn't.) If anything, it was gremlins tinkering.

I always had the time of my life on Merry-Go-Rounds. The dirt circumference was always packed hard and was about six inches lower than the ground around it, because kids were always trying to push as fast as humanly possible, presumably to send the occupants into orbit. Many times, I remember having been nominated the pusher, and suddenly becoming dragged around because of the force. I suffered a few skinned elbows and knees, but who cared? You sniffled a bit and went back to playing. Kids don't care about getting a settlement from the school.

We even had hanging rings on our playground, as modeled by Elijah, here. Those are gone now, too. Back in the day, we kids were bound to be gymnasts.

Now, our children are being raised in a world of plastic and rubber.

The good old things have been torn down to make way for colorful safety measures. I implore you, if you can still find an old playground (and they are a dying breed), take a child to play, even if just for one day. If nothing else, you should go play.

Unless you've had your ass branded by a searing metal slide on a hot summer day, you've never truly lived.

In case you haven't noticed...

2004-10-03T18:46:00.000-07:00

I like movies. A lot.

I spend most of my disposable income on DVD's, and have amassed a fairly decent collection of worthwhile titles, most of which have been purchased in the last two years.

I broke down last week and bought myself an early Christmas present with money I'd saved for some time, snatching up copies of Clerks X, Shaolin Soccer, and Super Size Me!. I also received my Interstella 5555 DVD in the mail a few days ago.

Clerks is classic. 'Nuff said. Ideally, people should see Kevin Smith's first before watching Mall Rats, Dogma, or Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back. Stay away from Jersey Girl, though.

"I'm not even supposed to be here today!"

Shaolin Soccer is what you get when you combine kung fu and the most internationally recognized sport in the world. Add in some over-the-top DragonBall Z-esque flaming soccer ball effects and Hong Kong wire work, and you'll get the general idea. Hilarity ensues.

Super Size Me! is a documentary featuring a guy who, for the sake of science, goes on a 30-day McDonald's binge. Also featuring interesting facts interspersed throughout the film, it'll definitely make you think twice about eating McD's again. I haven't touched a McDonald's product in over two years, actually, and watching this just reinforced my feelings about their "food".

Interstella 5555 is an cinematic extension of the Daft Punk music videos, featuring the Discovery CD in its entirety. Interestingly enough, the entire story is told without any dialogue. Directed by Leiji Matsumoto of old school anime fame such as Space Pirate Captain Harlock, Queen Emeraldas, and Galaxy Express 999, it's a musical masterpiece not to be missed.

I also recently watched David Lynch's Eraserhead, which seems to be the pinnacle of bizarre cinema. It's a movie that has piqued my interest for some time, but is actually really, really hard to find. I was fortunate (well, maybe not, now that I look back) to have found it in Eastern's library listing. I was expecting DVD, but they only had it on Laserdisc. For those of you unfamiliar with this format, it's literally a CD the size of a vinyl record that you have to flip over halfway through the movie. They had Laserdisc players at the library, too, so I had to content myself with watching it there.

Honestly, I've never seen a more, pardon my language, fucked-up movie in my life. In a nutshell, it involves Henry, the protagonist, meeting up with Mary X, his fiancée, and her weird family.

Henry Spencer.

He learns that she birthed a horrible monster child, which looks not unlike an aborted goat fetus.

My eyes!

Throughout the movie, Henry frequently sees this freaky mutant lady who lives in his radiator.

And it all goes totally downhill from there. I didn't understand anything that was going on. It wasn't exactly artsy. It was just weird beyond all reasoning. Yeah... that's one movie I don't plan on watching again for a long time.

At least I was able to put most of it out of my mind when I got my E Nomine Das Testament CD in the mail: Grinding techno, guttural German choir, and Gregorian chanting all meshed together in a cacophony of Eargasmic music.

Hm... I've still been meaning to see Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, Resident Evil: Apocalypse, and Shaun of the Dead.

Too bad I'm dirt poor.

If you're into that sort of thing...

2004-10-01T01:45:00.000-07:00

Play a presidential debate drinking game.

If Bush says "Iraq", "Saddam Hussein", "stay the course", "freedom", "terror", or mispronounces a word, take one drink.

If Bush says "flip-flops", "Patriot Act", "strong leadership", or implies that Kerry is indecisive, take two drinks.

If Bush mentions "Osama Bin Laden", "Al-Queda", "9/11", or "Weapons of Mass Destruction", take three drinks.

If Kerry points his finger, says "tax cuts to the rich", "mislead", or "jobs lost", take one drink.

If Kerry says "bring our troops home", "miserable failure", "intelligent decisions", or "failed policies", take two drinks.

If Kerry mentions "Vietnam" or "Purple Hearts", take three drinks.

If either candidate takes a drink of water, coughs, slurs a word, stumbles, waits for applause for more than 4 seconds, or blatantly dances around an issue without making a clear response, take one drink.

If either candidate says "American people deserve better", tells a heartfelt campaign trail story, mentions an ordinary American by name, or mentions a family member, take two drinks.

If either candidate sweats or gets a standing applause, take three drinks.

If either candidate interrupts the other, makes up a new word, passionately slams his fist on the podium, gets booed by the audience, or utters a freudian slip in which hilarity ensues, take four drinks.

And if either candidate threatens the other, finish the drink.

If you're not into alcohol (or are underage), then drink your favorite cola or eat Sweet Tarts or something else as an appropriate substitute. I've gotten jacked up on soda on more than one occasion, and it's not a thing to be missed.

Making politics fun one debate at a time.

I need to type a brain dump

2004-09-23T05:53:00.000-07:00

I can't sleep well right now. Is there too much on my mind?

Since I came to college last year, I've been struck with a passing case of insomnia. It comes and goes from time to time, but when it's at its worst, I'll end up struggling with it for week-long intervals, often going without sleep for up to 30 or so hours at a time.

Maybe it's the work load and the stress that it brings, or maybe it's the freedom to choose my own bedtime, but I've never had this problem before. I'll look in the mirror and notice that my eyes appear sunken back into my skull, and the purplish bags underneath them are brighter than ever. My eyes are so bloodshot that you can't see the whites. And yet, I don't feel unhealthy. It's bizarre.

I used to get told all the time that I was creepy-looking because of that. As far back as 4th or 5th grade, people used to point out the glaring dark rings that stood out like stripes leading up to the corner of my eyes. Maybe it's because I have such fair skin. A kid once called me a "grain of rice" when I was standing in line to use the diving board at the rec center. I don't like swimming that much anymore. Haven't gone in about two years. I was always rather skinny and pale, even when I exercise out in the sun. Never was too popular, I guess. Never was up to everybody's standards.

I still can't sleep.

I'll try to sleep and end up laying in bed for several hours until I realize it's an exercise in futility and decide to cook up some bitter bean brew so I can at least study and get something productive accomplished.

I've always been a morning person, too. I've functioned for a week on less than 2 hours of sleep per night before and never had a problem with waking up. I'm the lightest sleeper ever. I'm awake and strike the snooze at the first beep of my pocket-sized battery-powered alarm clock, which is pushing 20 years, at least. I wish I could sleep soundly, but I can still be roused at the drop of a pin. My last roommate could have probably slept through the apocalypse. Even my current roommate is asleep after 5 minutes. I've never been able to fall asleep in under a half hour unless I was dead tired, and even then, that's a rare occurrence.

When I'm trying to fall asleep, I'm always thinking about what can be done, and about all of the time I'm wasting by just lying prostrate for 6 to 8 hours at a time. What is it... something like a third of your life is spent sleeping? Maybe even more? One of these days, when my brain is put into a cyborg body, I won't have to worry about such trifles any more.

I'm still awake.

Maybe it's because I ponder things too much. I've been told this by several people. It's just the way my mind works: I'm often so analytical about things, that is, I look at things in close detail and with such specific intent that I usually miss the bigger spectrum, or rather, the glaring obvious that's right in front of me, and then I end up looking like an idiot. I don't see things the way they are. I see things they way they work, they way they have been, and how they could potentially be. At least I'm in a field of study that interests me. Maybe I can put my mind to good use. I like to learn more about people and the ways that society works.

I guess I'll go eat breakfast. I might as well start my day, sleep-deprived or not. I have no idea what I just typed. I wonder what I'll think when I read it later.

Stop calling me, dammit

2004-09-22T00:33:00.000-07:00

No, I don't want your credit card. I came to college to study, not to buy your crap. Stop trying to sell me something I don't need.

If I ever find out who's giving out my campus phone number to telemarketers, I'm going to shove my foot up their asses.

This marks the third time in two weeks that I've been called by a telemarketer. At home, I used to ask them to put me on their "no-call" list until I realized that they never actually do. I've taken to employing more effective methods.

Last time, an Indian woman answered my greeting. She asked if I was a student on "the campus there". She probably didn't even know what college she was calling. I replied with a terse "Yes," and immediately hung up.

I hear that telemarketers are required by contract to finish reading their standard "if you have any questions, please contact" speech, since their calls are randomly recorded for quality control. I bet she felt pretty stupid talking to nobody.

I received yet another call today. After the woman asked if I was a student, I turned around and asked her she had a family. She said she was married with one child. I asked if she liked spending time with said family. She said yes. I proceeded to ask if she likes it when people call and try to sell her things when she's at the dinner table with her family. She hung up.

I wish her the best of luck in her future endeavors. Fortunately, there's enough people in the world who want something that they don't possibly need, so I'm sure she'll do fine. I, however, do not need another plastic rectangle for my wallet and am perfectly content with using tangible green currency.

I have had an epiphany.

2004-09-20T01:35:00.000-07:00

It's been about time for a rant anyway.

For some time now, I have severely cut back on my television viewing. I've barely averaged 2 to 3 watching hours a week for most weeks since last summer, in fact. Even though it's become almost a natural habit for me to not turn on the TV, when I take a second to think about it, the prospect intrigues me, especially considering that in my early teenage years my parents used to restrict my TV time through enforcement by "TV tokens," good for 15 or 30 minutes at a time. After that got old a few years later, I was essentially free to watch as much television as I wanted, and I often did, for 5 or 6 hours at a time during the summer, and up to 3 on some, if not most, school nights.

Now, it just feels odd to have the TV on in the first place. I still watch movies and play video games from time to time, but I almost never tune in to watch the standard cable lineups any more. Maybe it's because being at college sucks up most of my spare time, or perhaps this is because I have come to the realization that most TV nowadays is just plain stupid, for lack of a better term. Whatever the reason, I just don't get much enjoyment out of TV anymore.

TV, I suppose, has always been stupid to some small degree since its inception, but is probably at its pinnacle of mindless entertainment today. The other day, in a state of intense boredom, I was blindly flipping through the channels and happened to stop on MTV. Let the record stand: I never watch MTV. However, the show that was on held my interest just long enough for me to not change to a different station.

The show was called Boiling Point, and it was a reality show focusing on the patience of your average person on the street. A pre-arranged event was set up by one of MTV's hired hands to, get this, literally annoy random passerby in some fashion for as long as possible. If they managed to avoid walking away or cursing profusely for a set number of minutes, they were rewarded a crisp $100 bill, no questions asked, while we got to watch them fume, cry, and generally look uncomfortable all the while for 5 to 12 minutes at a time.

Sounds like a real winner, right? I was initially mildly impressed with the show's latent function of proving that it pays for people in general to be more patient with everyday events, even though this was obviously not the show's intended prospect. I didn't even watch more than two of these events before I couldn't bear to stomach the show any longer. Why would anyone derive happiness from watching the suffering of others, as entertainment on television, no less?

To me, the TV has almost become a thing of obsoletion. And not just that, but also because the general lineup is rubbish. I never watch CNN, MSNBC, or Fox News, as I get all of my news from the internet. Many drama shows are insipid, unoriginal, and boring. Soap operas are mind-rotting and fetid. The music channels play rap, (which has never been, and never will be, music) mainstream garbage, or have degraded to showing reality TV, which, incidentally, is about the most pointless form of entertainment available now, since it almost exclusively consists of people doing ridiculous things for money. Comedy has degraded mostly to fart and sex jokes, both in standup and in cartoons.

And speaking of cartoons, about 90% of cartoons nowadays have become the jejune cookie-cutter Macromedia Flash-type excrement of bourgeois artists and clichéd scripts. Give me the days of the 80's and mid-90's when you could tell that cartoons actually took effort on the part of the animators. I long for the inspired days of Gargoyles, Carmen Sandiego, and Batman: The Animated Series. I also miss intelligent humor. There aren't enough shows out there like Futurama, which was both creative and funny on many different levels.

There are still things worth watching, but you have to be a discretionary watcher to pick them out. I advise you to only watch shows that truly interest you, or that might actually teach you something. For example, growing children should watch something of relative educational merit, such as Sesame Street, rather than the absurd Rugrats. It's not that hard to sift out something worthwhile.

If you were to tell me ten years ago that I would eventually tire of TV's worn-out babble, I would have laughed in your face. I don't recall my parents ever having done this for me, because they were wise enough to know I would figure that out myself.

Oh, and also...

2004-09-19T22:21:00.000-07:00

Stop using Internet Explorer, Windows users.

Avast!

2004-09-19T20:04:00.000-07:00

Buckets o' blood! The Nineteenth o' September be Talk Like A Pirate Day!

www.talklikeapirate.com

Shiver me timbers, it be a national holiday, maties! Keelhaul the usurpers and make 'em walk th' plank! Hoist the Jolly Roger! Plunder and pillage! Booty! Yo ho ho and a bottle o' rum!

Aye, 'tis a bit late to learn this year, but ready yer cutlasses for th' next time she rolls around!

ARRRRRR!

Eat this.

2004-09-19T19:48:00.000-07:00

www.campusfood.com

Free food! If your college is on the list, and most public ones are, then you can get free pizzas, subs, and what have you. The only offer here in Charleston is a free Medium Domino's pizza after a $7.00 order, but at least it's something!

See what deals are in your area!

Random facts about EIU

2004-09-15T16:47:00.000-07:00

~Girls outnumber guys almost 4 to 1 (out of about 12,000 students)

~Stevenson Hall, approximately 10 stories tall, is the single highest point in Coles County, Illinois

~My Sociology professor, Dr. Wohlstein, looks exactly like Teddy Roosevelt (if only I had a picture...)

More later as I think of them.

Where were you?

2004-09-11T14:00:00.000-07:00

I was a Junior sitting in the leftmost desk two seats from the front in my Accelerated U.S. History class. I don't recall if class had even started yet, but if it had, we hadn't even been five minutes into it, when our teacher walked forward and turned on the TV just in front of my seat.

It looked like a standard news broadcasting, but then I realized that something had gone horribly wrong. We watched as the reporters lost it on live television, and shortly after when the second plane struck the other tower. Nobody in our classroom screamed or anything, but I think we were all too much in shock to believe what had actually happened. The rest of the class period consisted of confused talking and remaining transfixed to the news.

In third hour, I remember hearing that one of the towers had collapsed.

In fourth hour, we were bombarded by a multitude of other frenzied broadcasts about other incidents across the country, most of which were unrelated, but it was at this hour that I had learned that the Pentagon had been targeted, as well.

After that was pretty much a blur, and the next three days sort of merged together for me. We didn't have any work in any other classes on September 11, but we returned to work normalcy the next day.

I didn't want to turn this into a political post about George Bush, John Kerry, or Hurricane Ivan, like all the news channels are doing. Forgotten in the Iraq incident, what once was akin to the Pearl Harbor attack is now on par with the Reichstag Fires.

Just take the time to remember, as so many have seemed to have forgotten what happened just three years ago.

A little something for you

2004-09-09T17:59:00.000-07:00

I found two spiffy sites with plenty of anime images and wallpapers.

The first is Cigarette Doujinshi, a site of cigarette-themed advertisements and anime girls. While I'm not a smoker, I still think the pics are pretty cool. Some of the larger images are definitely desktop-worthy. There are also a few questionable pictures on here, so be be forewarned. (e.g., gratuitous panty shots and some nudity)

The other is OS-tan, with some unofficial anime girl Operating Systems mascots. Tons of great images and backgrouds here, too. I've already dedicated a folder to these girls. ^^;; My favorites are the Win95 and and especially the Windows 2000 girl. She's a babe.

They've even got mascots for Lindows, Linux, Longhorn, Norton, and more. Do be wary that there is a section devoted to H-images of these girls, too.

Oh, and the Mac page is seperate, for some reason, but can still be found from there, but I'm linking it here to make it easier. Now, I wonder who would be interested in the Mac girls? ^_~*

Since I'm bored, here's some more info I found about the OS-tan:

The first and most popular of the OS-tan characters, ME is the personification of Windows Millennium Edition. An incredibly naive individual lacking in common sense, ME is unreliable due to the fact that she has a tendency to fail at everything; always with comedic results. Despite these habitual catastrophes, ME never gives up in trying to help others or do as much as she can, much to the panic of her sisters and friends.

The unacknowledged leader of the central Windows OS-tan trio, 2K is the personification of Windows 2000 Professional. A perfectionist and micromanager, she is the individual everyone turns to when something goes terribly wrong. While 2K has a workable solution for almost any catastrophe, she openly expresses her unhappiness and dissatisfaction: especially when ME is responsible. Which happens to be quite often.

The unspeakably sexy XP is the personification of Windows XP Professional. Her overwhelming (user) friendliness tends to attract the wrong reactions from others, especially those of the opposite sex, whom mistaken her for an easy one night prize. XP's stereotypical femininity and heavy drinking habits do little in improving the matter.

Possessing the grace and maturity of whom many would consider the perfect traditional Japanese woman, 95 is the personification of Windows 95. Ironically she bears a second personality: that of a homicidal, katana wielding, battle hungry combatant. Though considerate and supportive of her family, 95 is subject to stress, and it during these times her violent side shows... especially whenever she's around a Macintosh OS-tan.

With her size shifting "robox" guardian/doll, the preadolescent 98 personifies the first generation of Windows 98. She is often found in the company of her sibling 98 SE, both of whom are generally the same age. The innocence and frailty of 98 are symbolic to her namesake's limitations and short shelf life compared with others in the family.

From an overall standpoint, in everything but appearance, 98 SE, the personification of Windows 98 Second Edition is identical to her Windows 98 sibling. This is intentional, for the same could be said of the operating system she represents. 98 SE has a tendency to hide within her variable size "robox" guardian/doll, safe and secure from worldly danger.

The bitten apple wearing, bomb throwing Mac is the personification of Macintosh Warp OS9. She is the ring leader of the Macintosh family, and in most cases, the only of her clan shown repeated throughout the Trouble Windows saga. Mac is the sworn eternal rival of 95, and like her, has a split personality which evokes sheer aggression. As of late, she has attempted adherence to a truce, but finds old habits are hard to break.

Doctor Norton, an unspeakably lecherous and horny old doctor, personifies the Symantec Norton Antivirus software. While an ingenious physician, he is infamously known to request and (attempt) the undressing of an OS-tan for a full physical inspection, even when they're completely healthy. The doctor's lust has no bounds and his morality is void.

CE, the personification of Windows CE, is portrayed as diminutive and fairy-like; complete with gossamer wings and ever wielding a USB cable wand. She possesses an undetermined measure of magical potential, casting enchantments to solve problems and eliminate workloads. The effectiveness of these unusual spells, is open to serious debate.

Wearing a LAN cable box bonnet and fish shaped bodysuit, is the personification of Windows Server 2003, Saba. Her unusual name is derived from the Japanese pronunciation of the word "server", and her unusual outfit is derived from the native meaning of its phonetically spelling: a type of fish. 2K uncharacteristically spoils Saba.

Sharing many physical attributes with Windows XP Professional, the personification of Windows XP Home is also named, XP. Home is the fraternal twin of Pro; though portrayal as identical twins is not uncommon. Ironically, Home is more professional than her double: she works harder, has greater confidence, and avoids most (but not all) traps.

Windows 3.1

DOS, an ultra shy and always hidden little girl, is personification of the Disk Operating System. Of all the Microsoft sisters, she is by far the meekest and most fearful. These aspects of her character reflect the fact that DOS is no longer utilized by widespread users, unassisted by Microsoft tech support, and found little domestic service in Japan.

DOS V

Windows NT

Lindows

Linux, the Linux operating system, is personified as a horned helmet wearing were-penguin. Her warlike attire and personality derives from the continuing hostilities with the Microsoft and Macintosh families. In spite of her prowess, she has yet to defeat them.

A slumbering, still in construction girl with animalistic horns, is the personification of Windows Longhorn. Because the operating system is unreleased and still in development, she is without a personality or detailed history. Nonetheless, Longhorn has the potential to be the wisest and most powerful OS-tan ever introduced. Time will ultimately tell.

Who wants a FREE iPod? (inquire within)

2004-09-07T03:32:00.000-07:00

I know you do.

I also know what you're thinking. "That's highly illogical", right?

I swear on my Vulcan's honor that it's not. This isn't some internet-contrived pyramid scheme. It is, however, a way that the companies that I'm about to mention will make money, but you can still essentially beat the system and get a sweet mp3 player out of it.

As soon as you've read all the information below, please go here first! This will allow you to be one of the references I so desperately need to get my iPod. Once again,
http://www.freeiPods.com/default.aspx?referer=8786214 is the address that you must use to be my liason.

The following is how you can get an iPod of your own, and the steps I went through to get this far.

The first step is to visit www.freeipods.com and create an account. All it needs is your name and an email address. Keep in mind that you may have to use this same address to sign up for one of these offers below, so don't use more than one.

After that, it's a straightforward process until you get to the "Complete Offer" step, which prompts you to select one of the offers on a list. There's all sorts of stuff from AOL, Blockbuster, Netscape, and others. I believe all of these involve your signing up for one of their services, and it will involve a credit/debit card number on your behalf.

Sounds a little sticky, but the best two to sign up for are AOL, which you can cancel at any time during the free 50-day trial and not have to pay a dime, and Infone, which I recommend you do. Regardless, after choosing one and jumping through their hoops, FreeiPods will recognize that you've completed your part of the requirements.

The next step, and the reason I'm posting this here is the referrals. In order to receive your free iPod, you must refer 5 people to sign up for one of the aforementioned services. Once you've gotten your five and verified your account (you can prompt them to send you an email), they'll ship your iPod to your address free of charge and with no shipping costs!

I couldn't believe it at first, either, but it's been on WiReD and CNN, and verified by a plethora of other sources. It is most definitely legitimate. If you don't believe me, I've located a source that explains how to get it in a little more detail. I'm posting an excerpt, or rather, the most important information, courtesy of http://www.gmmfan.com/ipods/ below.

excerpt

Free iPods.com is a part of a company called Gratis Internet who specialize in online pay-for-performance acquisitions. Other than iPods, you can get CDs, DVDs, flatscreen tv/monitors, desktop PCs (new), etc FOR FREE. They are even listed at the Better Business Bureau website.

The point of the program is to sign up with one of their offers (at no cost to you - although now you require a credit card, phone bill, or checking account) and then get 5 of your friends to do the same thing. After they have verified that you and your 5 friends have indeed completed ONE offer EACH, they will send you a FREE iPOD RIGHT TO YOUR DOOR. But how can they do this, you ask. Well, many people do not fully complete the offer - say they just do their offer and can only get 3 friends to complete their offer - and thus, the company makes a profit from those sign ups and they do not need to send an iPod for the unfinished process. It is only when people COMPLETELY go through with the process that they will need to send an iPod, but nevertheless, they make a profit.

Note: Regardless of how many referrals you get ( <5),> 1. Sign up for a new email address, one that you CAN CHECK (to get the confirmation email) but don't mind if it gets flooded with spam (hey, spam for a free iPod, better than the "free" spam you get now anyways). I suggest Yahoo Mail or using your REAL email address with SpamGourmet. After you've signed up, be sure to check for the confirmation email in the Bulk folder! If you sign up with gmail, be sure to check for the confirmation email in the spam folder.

2. Now...

Sign up at freeipods.com.

If you use Mozilla Firefox, you may have issues with the signup process. So if possible, use Internet Explorer.

3. After you submit your [new] email and a password, it will ask you if you want to partake in various offers. Just click NO to all of them until you eventually get to the page that asks you to type in some friends emails to refer them to this offer. I'd advise you to refer your friends at this time to get a legs up on the whole free ipod process (and so your friends won't have already signed up as is the case if you wait too long), but you can always refer your friends later on once you've signed in to your account. Also, note, your own referral link is on the bottom of the page: use it to refer those 5 friends/people to get YOUR free iPod!

4. Next, you must complete one of the offers. You have a selection of signing up for AOL, Video Professor, GM Card, and others. Get $10 at Amazon.com - recommended offer - Now, you can get a $10 gift certificate to use at amazon.com when you sign up with the Infone offer. Not only do you get $10 Amazon.com credit, you also get 5 free 15 minute calls with Infone. Your credit card will not be charged UNLESS you use the service more than 5 times and there is no need to cancel. You can read their terms and conditions for further information. You'll get credit within 2-3 days. NOTE: Sometimes the offer will disappear, check periodically for when it reappears if you don't see it right away.

5. Now comes the part where you have to talk 5 people to do the same thing. It's a tad harder than it seems because people tend to be cynical about anything that is free. You can send them to www.getfreeipods.tk (this page) for further info, if you'd like.
Most people get their referrals by posting their referral link on message boards, personal websites, livejournal (or a replicate/similar), craigslist.org (although you will probably get your posting flagged and deleted quickly), using it as their signature in their emails or message boards, sending it out on instant messaging, etc. Be creative.

6. When you have finally gotten those 5 people to complete one offer and you too have completed your offer, you can log in to your account to see your status to confirm everything is completed. Then, you'll need to confirm your shipping address (no P.O. box numbers) and the status will then change from pending to in progress to shipped. Once it's shipped, you can email them to get your tracking number to see where your iPod is. And yes, the shipping is completely free too.

WAIT A SECOND, IT'S TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE! (A SCAM I SAY!)

To tell you the truth, I was certainly cynical about this when I first heard about it. Must be an evil pyramid scheme that is impossible to complete and there's almost no chance that little old me can get a free iPod, I thought. However, I went to search on the web for further information about this whole Free iPods.com deal, to see if it was in fact legit.

After checking out many sites (of which are linked below for further reference), and saw all the pictures of "proof" that people can in fact receive iPods from this site, I decided there's nothing to lose other than a few minutes to sign up for a few things.

Some links for "proof"

Proof with pictures [ images are now broken ]
MORE proof with pictures [ images are now broken ]
John, Kevin and unknown's Success Stories
Owner of freeipodguide.com's pictures of his free iPod
"FreeiPods.com Is The Real Deal" - Gear Live
NAS' Journey
munkyxtc's iPod
Gearlive: Pics of Received iPods
GregNorton.net: Ipod Pictures
Server-Strike: My Free iPod
LJ user micronix received his iPod
StoneTable.org: Free iPods

Articles about FREEIPODS.COM

/excerpt

I signed up for the Infone offer which gives you a $10 Amazon certificate. As long as I never use the service, I'm never billed. This is the one I recommend to you, wonderful readers.

And now is the part where I beg. I could very much use a reference, and I begin by asking you, my friends, to help me out in this endeavor. Here's my reference code page one last time. I, a poor college student, find this offer to be impossible to pass up, and I could very much use your help in this.

Try this.

2004-09-06T02:33:00.000-07:00

http://mindbluff.com/askchess.htm

You'll have fun. Well, maybe not, but it'll make you feel smarter.

It took me about 12 tries, but it can be done in 63 moves. Try it for yourself.

I thought it was fun, anyway.

College is already killing me...

2004-09-01T21:18:00.000-07:00

But I'm taking steps to make it better.

My Stagecraft class has been successively worse and worse each time I go. I can't handle it any longer, so I've decided to drop it for a number of reasons.

One, I didn't realize that it was off-campus. This fact alone probably would have turned me off had I known. It's also sandwiched between two other classes, giving me scant time to make it back on campus to get to my next one on time. Additionally, I'm usually too wiped out from the previous day to get up and eat breakfast on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays before leaving for my 9:00, closely following which is Stagecraft. Thus, most of the time, I haven't the time to eat neither breakfast nor lunch on those days, and it's starting to affect my energy levels. I don't want my other classes to suffer as a result.

Last is the class itself. The students there are all elitist, boorish, pompous, know-it-alls. I feel terribly out of place there. I don't want to know how to build a set, and I don't think I'm cut out to be a thespian. Hell, I've never even acted in a play before. I shouldn't have assumed that I'd be Grade A material for this class just because I did the lighting in one high school play.

I don't want to sing, dance, or act if this class is the necessary prerequisite, and if these are the kinds of people I'll be dealing with on a daily basis. I've decided to drop this course and change my minor, perhaps to Psychology to go along with my Sociology major. This will drop me down to four classes and 12 credit hours this semester, and I'm fairly certain it's too late to pick up a class to fill the spot, but I'm not concerned about that. I'll be more than willing to take 6 classes next semester if that's what it takes.

But I need to end the pain that this class is providing. It's stressing me to the breaking point, and eating up all of my spare time.

Nyo ho ho!

2004-08-29T00:49:00.000-07:00

I finally got a Gmail account! I've been trying for months trying to find someone willing to invite me, and my journey has finally come to fruition!

If any of you are interested, dear friends, I'll have some Gmail invites of my own to give out as I please within a few weeks, so respond to this post or email me if you're interested. I will be more than glad to hook you up.

akumaramen@gmail.com

Oh, by the way...

2004-08-25T00:39:00.000-07:00

Today marks my 20th year of life.

Obligatory Pseudo-Livejournal post

2004-08-24T22:20:00.000-07:00

Hi, everyone. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been extremely busy since I got back to school last Thursday.

Whew, the times, they be a-changin'.

This year is definitely going to be what I make it, and right now, it pales in comparison to my Freshman year here at Eastern Illinois University. First off, nobody can replace the RA I had last year. Nick's a great guy, and I never thought I'd make friends with my floor's resident assistant, but I was wrong. This year, though, we've got the illustrious Chad, a less-than-brilliant young man who is the epitomized "jock". I've already made it a point to avoid him as much as possible.

My class schedule is far from pretty, too. Next time I need to better research locations when I format my schedule. I'm a Sociology major with a Theater minor. I'm stuck on the lower rungs of the class selection at the moment, steadily working my way upward. My introductory Theater class this semester is Stagecraft, building sets, researching set design, costume design, makeup, and so on. Far from acting, but everyone has to start somewhere.

Here's where my problems begin, though. I had no idea that said Theater locale was a fifteen-minute walk off-campus. My class begins at 11:00 and ends at 12:40. This gives me a scant 20 minutes to powerwalk back and just barely make it to my Sociology class at 1:00. Not only do I have to kill myself to make it back quickly enough, I don't have any time for lunch, either. It's going to be a painful semester, and it's already off to a less-than-favorable start. I missed the bus going to the Theater building yesterday because it left five minutes earlier than it was supposed to. I wasn't too enthralled with this, because I missed my first class day as a result.

Tomorrow, I'll explain the situation to my professor, who has probably dealt with this before. I think things will work out, but it's frustrating to deal with an incident like this early in the year. The rest of my classes are fine, and I've met up with the rest of my friends from last year, so I'm still relatively pleased.

Well, back to studying. I have actually been, dare I say it, waiting for homework since July.

Bye for now, everyone! I'll catch you online when I have the time!

Seeking employment as a corporate slave

2004-08-12T14:12:00.000-07:00

At the advent of summer 2005, I will, once again, be out of work.

I've had a cushy and well-paying job at Franzexpress for just over two years, off and on, usually for 6 to 8 months at a time. Most recently, I've been working 9-hour days for a flat $6 an hour, so I've already accumulated a modest wad of money this summer. At the end of this year, however, after the busy Christmas season, it has come to my attention that my boss will be folding up the pack-and-ship end of his business, the area of my employment.

I don't have any regrets, though, and I'm sure he doesn't, either. He's managed to turn a decent enough profit for just over eight years of business. I think he's finally realized, or decided, rather, that he can earn a larger income without the added responsibility/stress of paying for employees, building rent costs, and so on. After all, the only real money in his pocket this and last year, after expenses, has come from the graphics portion of his business, which he intends to run from the comfort of his home.

I look to my boss not just as an employer, but also as a good friend and a nice guy, so I entirely support him in his decision. But regardless, I'll be out of work, so I'll have to find somewhere else where people will give me their green.

With the training and experience I've had here at Franzexpress, which is the only place I've ever worked, in fact, I could very easily get a job at The UPS Store or Kinko's/FedEx. The nearest of each is out of town, though, and I'm a little nonplussed about that potential commute to work every day. I've been suggested a job at Cracker Barrel, but I'm not the type of person to serve or prepare food, and I'd rather not spend my waking hours constantly washing dishes. And McDonald's, as far as I'm concerned, can choke on a McChickenHead.

Eat it, Ronald.

Instead, I've turned my eye to Wal*Mart, the epitome of all that is evil and corporate in the world of retail. I realize that I'd be sacrificing my soul to the almighty Sam Walton, may God rest his enterprising soul, but in this day and age of our rather tired economy, working for The Big W seems like a relatively stable occupation, and they carry a fine line of garments, to boot.

But honestly, even if I have to work from the ground up, it'll be worth it. Ideally, I'd like to land myself squarely in electronics. I'm absolutely fed up with having to deal with one more uninformed woman who can't tell me the what the difference is between stereo and mono.

I hate being an intellectual working in the midst of impoverished minds, but if I have to don the blue vest heavily laden in flair to make even $10,000 a year, I don't mind. I'm a college student, and when I'm off at school, a ten dollar bill is a luxury to me. If I had to sell blood plasma in order to afford a meal, or even that DVD I wanted, I'd do it. I'll bleed as much as you want for the right price.

I recently read an article about how Wal*Mart's billions of dollars in yearly revenue is forcing business rival Toys 'R Us into considering the possibility of giving up the goat and turning their investments exclusively towards their branch business, Babies 'R Us. While I feel like a part of my childhood just imploded at this news, I also can't blame them.

Unfortunately, Toys 'R Us has always suffered from sucky business practices. The last time I went in, I saw the staple of cheap dolls, pink plastic push-carts, matchbox cars, and other assorted trinkets that nobody would ever want to buy, and even if they did, it wouldn't be profitable for the company. They don't have any decent Lego sets anymore, and they have one too many aisles of Yu-Gi-Oh! cards. Additionally, they still continue to sell Playstation and Nintendo 64 games which are over five years old for $50 or more. It's as if they just stopped caring. Wal*Mart may be sinister in their methodology, but at least they know what their customers want at what price.

That is precisely why I'm turning to Wally World. While it seems that all of these businesses around me are sinking fast, Wal*Mart still continues to be the king at the top of the economic pyramid. I figure I should get a foothold as soon as possible instead of spending sporatic months jumping from a failing shop here to a bankrupt business there.

And if that doesn't work out for me, I can always let the Psychology majors pay me to let them use my body for their insidious experiments.

There's a reason I'm not a Political Science major...

2004-08-08T19:59:00.000-07:00

And that's because I'm not a politically-minded person.

Sure, I follow the news. I know what's going on in the world. I just don't let it run my life.

I took an American Government course both in high school and last semester at college. One was required, and the latter was for general education. I passed with an 'A' in both, but I can assure you that I neither enjoyed the course, nor did I really try that hard in class. It may be "essential information" as deemed by the government/state/whatever authority, but I honestly could care less about what the hierarchies of courts govern.

I feel that learning about the processes of the system is as much a waste of my time as it is for the person sitting next to me. I have no great desire to become a House member, and I don't want to spend my time and money to influence government as a Senator.

Maybe that's why in my lecture class of approximately 150 students, I only ever saw maybe 35 to 40 in attendance at one time, save for the first and last days of class, as well as exam dates. People just don't care if it's none of their concern. It's the same with any subject. I don't want to measure the lengths of sound waves if I'm not a physicist. As someone in an unrelated field of study, it's just music to me, and nothing more.

So, as an American citizen, my only responsibility should be to place the people that share the same views as myself into office by way of vote. Knowing every aspect of their job description is irrelevant, and quite frankly, entirely wasted on me.

In the same vein, but from a psychological standpoint this time, I sometimes wonder what really influences a person's political standpoint. My most logical theory is their parents, but the thing that interests me the most is where you go from there. My parents are staunch Republicans, but for me, listening to their constant praise of their party has driven me to the left, to be Democratic. But on the flip side, many young people also follow their parents in their views. So I wonder what affects the decision, other than the actual person's opinion. I guess it just varies from person to person.

But hey, I'm a Sociology major. I only study societal patterns, not those of the individual.

I'll just go ask a professor.

Take your Atkins "diet" and shove it

2004-08-06T12:02:00.000-07:00

There are only a few things that annoy me. I'm going to cut right to the chase instead of dancing around the subject with a bunch of flowery language.

I hate it when really fat people complain about being fat.

You know why you're fat? Obviously not.

It's because you eat McDonald's all the time, guzzle Coke like it was water, shuttle yourself in your car to places in walking distance from your house, but still you wonder why you need two chairs for your fat ass.
amendment: Lest I offend some misfortunates, I do sympathize for those who suffer from obesity attributed only to a glandular abnormality.

What really sends me over the edge is the whole Atkins diet craze. I can't understand how people can be zealots for such an unhealthy and harmful weight loss system, or why the stupidity has reached such heights of popularity.

Just the other day, I overheard a coven of middle-aged women touting their recent experiences with Atkins. Their conversation was littered with enthusiastic doses of "Oh, I had a half of a grapefruit, but I'm not allowed to have cereal", or "My son just switched to the low-carb ice cream, and I think it's working out for him", or "That bagel made me go over my point total".

I say go ahead and destroy your bodies. Charles Darwin would have a field day, and I certainly won't miss your company.

You know what happens when you don't take in carbohydrates, the energy that your body needs to survive? You enter an unnatural state called ketosis where you're forced to burn fats and proteins, which makes your breath always smell bad, lowers your appetite, and makes you too run down to exercise. In short, you're slowly killing yourself, and the probable weight loss is only a side effect.

You could instantly lose 30 pounds by cutting off your leg, but that doesn't make it healthy.

Since I'm feeling generous, here's a simple little plan for weight loss. I'm not even a doctor, but I should charge money to reveal this startling revelation to the foolhardy masses:

1. Stop eating junk food
2. Stop drinking soda
3. Drink more water
4. Eat more fruits and vegetables and
5. Eat all the bread, starch, and carbs you want, but
6. Exercise for at least an hour every day

I guarantee you'll lose pounds by the week.

Obviously, this system is too complicated for Americans, who can't get off their fat asses to make a relatively easy lifestyle change. This groundbreaking technique of mindful eating coupled with exercise has only worked since the days that man had to grind his grain with two rocks to make a meal. The almighty Robert Atkins wrote a book in 1972 that's only caught on in popularity in recent years.

You tell me which system works better, and I'll give you a cookie. Better be careful, though, it's high in carbs.

Dr. Atkins, and I use the term "doctor" loosely, is probably rolling over in his grave right now, but if he were alive today, he'd be rolling in the money of the fat, rich, and ignorant.

It's a good thing I'm a guy...

2004-08-05T16:55:00.000-07:00

Because some things would gross me out otherwise.

The other day, I was just starting my day at work, and had gotten myself a cup of vanilla hazelnut coffee. I consumed about half of the brew, and went to tend to a few customers.

Roughly ten minutes later, I was able to return to my coffee. I took a sip, and followed it up by two more, and I suddenly felt something solid brush my lower lip. I lowered my cup and looked at the rim to discover a half-cooked, half-drowned housefly dragging himself out of my beverage. Without a second thought, I sent him into the air with a well-placed finger flick, and walked over to the sink to pour the rest out.

There was hardly any left, and it was rather cold, anyway.

Most normal people, or more specifically, Americans, would have probably dropped the cup in shock and proceeded to sputter and choke. You know those Americans... always afraid of germs and icky things.

To that, I give a resounding "meh". It's a fly. Sure, I don't know where it's been, but it's not going to kill me.

I used to eat all sorts of weird stuff when I was little, bugs included. (I did not, however, eat wall candy... er, paint chips.) A little extra protein never hurt anybody.

But while we're on this subject, I've got an interesting (read: embarassing) anecdote from my past I'd like to tell.

Nobody likes cockroaches, myself included. I, being a guy, am still not averse to picking them up or crushing them with my bare hands, but still, I view them as vermin before I see them as one of God's creatures.

This story begins many years ago, when I was 8 or 9. Back then, our house used to be infested with cockroaches. They were everywhere. One or two would scurry across the kitchen floor nearly ever other day, and especially after 8:00 or so. We live in an old house, built in the 1890's, so it's got tons of space for creepy crawlies to inhabit. We've had the Orkin man take care of this since, which was about 10 years ago, so don't think that I live in squalor or anything.

Anyway, I had awakened to do my business, so I wandered from my room down the stairs to use the bathroom. We do have an upstairs facility, but it's connected to my parents' room, and I didn't want to rouse them at 3 in the morning.

I'd sat down on the can to make No. 2, with my underwear pulled down so that it resided around my ankles. When I finished, I pulled up my tightie whities and had not even taken a step when I felt a scratching sensation around my crotch. At first, I thought I'd simply misaligned... "myself", so I adjusted my underwear a bit and took another step. Still itchy. Once again, I repeated this process, and once again, it remained uncomfortable.

Confused, I grabbed the elastic band and pulled it away so I could see what was going on. I peered down, and by the dull glow of the nightlight, and much to my horror, I saw a cockroach scrabbling around in my underwear, desperately trying to escape. Apparently, the fiend had crawled into my shorts while they were touching the floor.

I screamed a high-pitched little boy scream and gave a sharp tug outward. As I had hoped, the cockroach was catapaulted by the trampoline-like force of my undies away from my nether regions and into the air. I turned and stumbled away from that awful scene, and had barely made it to the stairs when my now-wide-awake parents bolted down to discover me in a cold sweat.

I don't remember anything else after that point. I don't remember what I exactly said to my startled parents, nor do I remember if I was able to get any sleep that night. But from that point onward, and to this day, I'm seized by a nervous twitch every time I sit down on any toilet seat.

Good times.

Okay, time for a surreal experience

2004-08-02T21:55:00.000-07:00

Okay, so, the evening was dark and bitter, almost like a hot cup of joe, and I found myself a-riding my bicycle through an alleyway at dusk. I decided to make well on my situation and check out the contents of the half-dozen dumpsters that were littered around the area, when I espied a cat facing a dog behind a chain-link fence.

The funny thing is that I swear the two were talking to each other, or at least communicating somehow. They didn't even appear to notice I was there, even when I approached. They just continued to sit and stare straight ahead at each other. I dismount my bike and take a few steps closer. Not a flinch from either. So, I start to back up, thinking how weird this was, and get back on my bike.

The instant I start to make a move to mount my bike, even before I make a sound, the cat wheels its head around and looks right at me. Now I'm somewhat freaked out, and I make my exit hastily.

Okay, maybe I'm wildly envisioning scenarios that didn't exactly happen, but I know something bizarre was happening between canine and feline tonight.

I guess this post has no real merit, but I thought it was unusually out of the ordinary.

Great. Now I feel terrible.

2004-07-31T12:18:00.000-07:00

Once again, I'm going to have to break my self-imposed angst-less rule, since I've become fairly upset this evening, and keeping my feelings inward will only cause me more misery. I don't want to feel like I'm complaining about my life or anything, but I need to get this out of my system. I think it'll help me get over what happened tonight.

Everyone makes mistakes, and some people make more mistakes than others.

Depending on the person and situation, such mistakes can be altogether innocuous, or they can hurt other people.

Today, I learned a valuable lesson in which I could have prevented harm to someone else, but didn't.

I've been working full-time, 8 to 5, for the past three weeks at the local UPS shipping depot, and for the past four days, I've been watching the shop entirely on my own at the absence of my boss. For most businesses, this wouldn't normally be difficult for a lone employee, but for these four days, I've had to take care of certain aspects of the business that I wasn't familiar with or trained to handle. Normally, I take care of just the UPS shipping, copying, cleaning, some accounting and paperwork, and nothing else. This week I've had to tell customer after customer that "I'm not in charge of this thing," or "I can't run that job for you," and so on.

The point is, I'm already relatively stressed from being subjected to such a work load during this week.

But here's the problem I ran into which only served to make things worse.

Yesterday, a woman came in with a package she wanted to send via UPS. This is my forte, the thing I'm best at doing as a Franzexpress employee. I do this dozens of times every day, and have done so thousands of times for almost two years. Anyway, this woman was unusually concerned about maintaining the security and structural integrity of her package. She was shipping a DVD player--not an unusually expensive one, but not a cheap one, either. "No problem," I initially told myself, as I had so many times before.

She went on to further explain that the man she was shipping the item to was rather... anal-retentive, shall we say. She told me that he'd been emailing her family multiple times and calling them in the middle of the night with questions about and instructions for sending the package. I listened intently, but this was still running by the numbers; her instructions were nothing out of the ordinary. I've shipped my fair share of bizarre items that to this day make me scratch my head and wonder why anybody would want to ship car mufflers, musty antique cellos, or large, irregular chunks of metal.

I explained to her that I could take care of everything that she was so concerned about, and proceeded to bubble wrap the player and put packing peanuts around it. I charged her the appropriate amount, and we had a short, pleasant conversation in which she thanked me profusely for helping her get the shipping situation off her chest, followed by a brief chat about our families, and then she left. She returned, however, an hour later, and asked me if I would go ahead and double-box the player. Now I began to realize just how serious she was about this. Normally, the only things we double-box are fragile things like glass and china and whatnot. But she insisted, and since the customer is always right, I went ahead and resized a larger box for the other box to nestle in. I charged her for this second box, and once again, she left, content that her package was safe and sound.

About ten minutes later, I took another look at the box, and realized that perhaps I should edit the shipment. Depending on the weights and sizes of boxes, large, lighter boxes will often go as "Oversize 1", which costs a bit more to ship. Since I just increased the box's dimensions, I re-measured it and made the appropriate corrections. Indeed, the box did change to an oversized shipment. The difference in price wasn't that great, so I tossed a few of my own dollars into the register to account for the change in price.

It was, after all, my own mistake.

Due to the change, the system prompted me to print off a corrected shipping label to stick over the first. Now, each UPS shipment has a Tracking Number assigned to it, and we give a copy of this to the customer. They can, in turn, go to UPS.com and enter in this number to find out where their package is in transit at any time. However, at the time, it didn't occur to me that I should phone her with the new number. Often times, the customers don't even write their phone number, much less their names on the shipping form that we have them fill out. This woman had, however, put both her name and number on the form, and I regret now that I had decided to put this out of my mind, and didn't bother to call her with an update on the new information.

As I was still feeling a little run down from the work week, I returned to Einstein's this evening for a cappuccino to perk me up. I had barely sat down when I saw the same woman from yesterday walk in the front door. Even though I recognized her, she didn't notice me sitting there, so I figured she was just here for coffee or the live music tonight. In the back of my mind, though, I wondered if something had gone wrong. My intuition, it seems, was right this time, as not even a minute later, one of the proprietors of the coffee shop located me and brought her over. It turned out to be rather fortuitous that I'd decided to come to the coffee shop this evening.

Nearly in tears, and with blotchy, red eyes, she told me through sobs that she and her kids would probably have to sleep on the street tonight. I suddenly realized that something was, indeed, terribly wrong. At first, I wondered if the check she'd paid with had bounced, but she went on to explain that she'd attempted to input the tracking number at home and one other place, but nothing was coming up for the location of her shipment. Still slightly confused, I calmly asked her to come over to the counter and that I'd track the number from the UPS Worldship software for her.

As I did so, she told me that her husband had been yelling at her all afternoon, slapping her around, and telling her that she couldn't do anything right.

And it was at that moment I realized that she still had the wrong tracking number, which, technically, didn't exist anymore due to the new one I'd printed off on Friday.

Immediately, I began to apologize profusely and explain the situation to her. I printed off a copy of the label with the updated tracking number and also checked on the status of the shipment, which was already in Missouri, well on the way to its destination.

I told her once again how absolutely sorry I was, and she thanked me, half-heartedly. I couldn't tell if she was miffed that the whole thing had turned out to be my fault, or if she was relieved to know that her package was all right. She walked away, and once she was out the door, began to sprint down the sidewalk, I presume, to her angry husband.

I shuffled back to my cooling beverage and flopped down bodily on the couch. I tried to mentally cheer myself up, but I couldn't force a smile to my face while I was still thinking of what this woman had gone through, all because of something I could have prevented with one phone call.

I began to realize that this was one of those incidents that, save for the call which I should have made, I really couldn't have done anything about. How was I to know that this poor woman would end up catching hell from her enraged husband for something that I did? But she was still the innocent party who was ultimately blamed for the incident, and I'm the one who deservedly should have been smacked around instead.

I've learned a painful lesson, at the expense of someone taking the fall when I was the one entirely at fault. I feel absolutely terrible, but I can't imagine what that woman felt as a result of my negligence. Now, if she ever has anything to ship again, she'll likely turn to somewhere else to ship her package, most likely out of the fear of going through the same experience twice. And if she ever does come again, I'll have difficulty looking at her the same way. Either way, on top of the likelihood of having lost her as a repeat customer, I feel like I spit in her face, as well.

This is the part about any job that I hate, in that you're forced to take responsibility in your work, which, normally, I have no difficulty in handling. But this time I totally dropped the ball, and I feel like a horrible person for having done so.

I like the money that I've been making from working full-time, but it's not worth it when I have to deal with being the cause of someone else's stress, problems, or worse yet, physical pain. Nothing is worth that.

I have only about 15 work days remaining before I return to school, but I will painstakingly take steps to ensure that this never happens again in the future.

I'm not a happy camper

2004-07-27T19:16:00.000-07:00

If you read my blog, you’ll notice, for the most part, the deficiency of entries riddled with troubled teenage angst.

This is because,
1. I’m 28 days away from no longer being a teenager, officially,
and
2. I’m a very calm-headed person.

It takes a lot to get me mad. Most people have never seen me when I’m truly enraged. But I may have to bend my own rules a little bit for this entry.

I’m going to briefly rant, and then I will be my normal self again.

The other day, as I was riding my bike back from work, I approached two young ladies on the street. One called over to me, “What’s up?” I replied, “Not much”, but was a little short on breath, so perhaps it sounded a little odd. As I passed them, I heard the two giggle, and one repeated what I’d just said, mockingly. When they were behind me, one snapped back with “dork!”, audibly enough so that I might hear it, as was her apparent purpose. Without even turning my head, I shot back a “Thank you!”, and put the incident out of my mind.

I suppose that perhaps I am a dork, to some extent. I can shake off something like that without a second thought, though. That’s an isolated incident, though.

When you drive past me in your yellow Corvette and have the nerve to throw your garbage right at me on my bike, you’ve crossed the line.

That’s not just disrespectful, that’s irreverent.

When I’m the target of jollies for a carload of prissy, stuck-up, boorish, ignorant little twats, it makes me hate the human race as a whole even more. While I’m not a man of revenge, I would be more than glad to do horrible things to your $30,000 toy car the next time I see it.

…ass goblins.

Drink more coffee

2004-07-27T16:56:00.000-07:00

I can't live without my bean brew. Black, if you please.

I was once turned off by the caffeinated blend. It's definitely an acquired taste. But working adjacent to a coffee shop tends to change one's opinions on certain things. I was told by my boss day one that I'd gradually become a coffee addict when I started working there. And he was right.

I used to drink it with no less than a packet of sugar and two creamers, but I've weaned myself off the additives and stick to the purest form available. I love my Mr. Coffee machine, and often find myself drinking my early morning liquid jump start right out of the pot. The rest gets poured into my big-ass mug which holds about two cups' worth and accompanies me to my morning classes.

Here's a point of advice if you ever express interest into becoming a coffee drinker: don't ever pay more than $.99 for a cup of regular, or even gourmet coffee. Starbucks, for instance, will sell you mediocre coffee at a price equivalent to waking up in a bathtub full of ice only to discover that your kidneys have been stolen. I get my coffee free from Coffee with Einstein, but it would only be $.80 per cup of gourmet coffee if I did have to pay for it. Espressos, capuccinos, and lattes, on the other hand, are always overpriced, no matter where you go, but are good for café novices. Well, sans the espresso.

I'm going to force my Japanese roommate to get hooked this semester. He needs to stop drinking some of that weird crap he gets from over there and put some hair on his chest with a manly beverage.

Decaf is for little girly-men. And girly girls.

I am a bargain DVD consumer whore

2004-07-25T21:32:00.000-07:00

And Wal*Mart is my friend.

I like to sift through the hundreds of copies of Fire Down Below and Pingu in the DVD bargain bins, because there's buried treasure to be found. You just have to know what you're looking for.

Me, I've always been somewhat of a movie buff. I may not be able to play the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon that well, but I know what I like, and I've seen many examples of the good, the bad, and the ugly of filmdom.

I could easily pirate DVD movies, and have before, but I prefer to contribute to the economy, mostly because DVDs have extras, and I feel a little better about not breaking the law. (But my downloaded movie slate isn't clean, and I'll probably chalk up quite a few more marks to come. Arrrr, matey.)

It's always fun for me to head out to my local Wally World (as well as others out of town) and pick through the bin like a vulture. Why, in the last week alone, I've found quite a few:

Duel to the Death (Kung-fu action flick. Even if they suck, [well, especially if they suck] I like old crappy martial arts movies. This one's got "Kite Ninjas" in it. Yes, they're exactly what they sound like.)

Eastern Condors (Cool, unedited martial arts movie starring Sammo Hung. If you don't know who he is, find any old Jackie Chan movie. Chances are, he's probably in it, too. He's a fat Chinese guy who could still kick your ass.)

Jackie Chan's First Strike (Older movie starring a much younger Jackie Chan, also without pulled punches. Unfortunately, it's still edited and dubbed, but meh.)

Mr. Nice Guy (Another older [and edited, most likely] Chan film. Haven't sat down to watch yet.)

Stealing Harvard (Tom Green is a stupid-head, but it was $5.50, so I'll go ahead and watch it anyway.)

I've gotten quite a few others in the past, so check out my DVD Aficionado list. Roughly half of the movies on there are my bargain finds. Any astute reader should probably be able to pick them out.

VHS sucks.

I still lack skillz... (A DDR player's story)

2004-07-17T23:20:00.000-07:00

There are a few things in life that I'm always trying to improve upon. My artwork, my singing voice, things like that. And one thing that I'm always getting better at by the day is a video game. One game. Dance Dance Revolution. I'm a DDR freak.

And proud of it.

I'd been aware of DDR for probably 4 or 5 years, and I'd seen the machines in arcades, but rarely had I actually encountered anybody playing. I'm surprised, now, that I hadn't. Perhaps I didn't pay much attention before. I'd also seen it in used game stores for $50 and up, a fairly high price for a game acquired from a previous owner. Back then, it was just another game on the shelf to me. Now I see that the price is totally worth it.

It was my first year of college that I began to really get into DDR. One night, I found myself at my friend Murray's residence hall after a grueling but enjoyable 4 hours at anime club. His roommate owned DDRMAX2 for the PS2 and had two pads in their room. It just so happened that he was playing a round with a few guys from the floor when Murray and I returned. I was so impressed that I sat down to simply watch for an hour. When the two tired out, I asked if I could give it a try.

So began my foray into the wild and stamina-sucking world of Konami's 4-arrowed frenzy.

Since a young age, I've been a gamer. Not as long as many other people I know. I was probably 10 when I picked up my first game. At the time, I was terrible, but I've had another 10 years to improve. And improve I did. I'm a pretty damn good gamer if I do say so myself.

Being so confident in my gaming skills, naturally, I was show-offish. Beginner Mode wouldn't suffice for me, no sir--I had to skip straight to Light Mode. Anybody can do Light Mode if you put your mind to it. For me, it really only took about an hour to get the hang of it. I never did start with the in-game tutorial, as I wasn't aware of it at the time.

Anyway, once I was fairly confident from trying a few simple songs, I began to search for a song that I liked. I selected "End of the Century", a remixed version of Beethoven's "Symphony No. 9 in D Minor". It turns out that this particular song is one of the more challenging Light songs on this particular game. I was determined, however, to get an 'A' ranking on this one by the end of the night.

I played End of the Century probably 100 times in a row over the course of two hours until, around 1 A.M., having made about 6 trips to gulp down water from the fountain, and with aching shin splints, I finally achieved my goal. Yes, it was a time of jubilation, although Murray's roommate still seemed a little nonplussed when he returned and I showed him how "good" I had gotten. His lack of excitement was understandable, I suppose. Light is a pretty wimpy mode in comparison even to Standard.

But for me, my head was in the clouds that night. I had done something radically different and unique that I was totally unable to do before.

It was some months later that I scraped together $40 to buy DDRMAX2, and an additional $15 to buy a cheapo "Superstar Dance Pad" from Wal*Mart. I was determined to make a hobby out of this. (Shortly after I bought my game and pads, I told a few friends. Interestingly enough, out of the 6 or 7 pads that Wal*Mart had in stock, only one remained a few months later. I guess word really spreads in Lincoln. I wasn't planning on making DDR a fad in my hometown, but apparently it has kind of become one.)

Gradually, I began to improve in my spare time between classes and homework at Eastern. It took me about a month or two before I was confident enough to move on to Standard Mode, but once I had mastered a song or two on that difficulty, (the first being "Tomorrow Perfume") everything began to fall into place, and soon enough, I was able to play and look halfway impressive to an audience. I was also feeling better about myself. Since I'd left for college, I'd put on the "Freshman Fifteen" pounds, and I knew DDR was the perfect activity to melt away the flab.

I stuck with Standard slightly longer, as the learning curve to transition to Heavy is somewhat steep. Part of the reason for this step up was that I had learned that my good friend Adam was a local DDR fanatic at his university, though he had been weaned on DDR's arcade counterpart. Not wanting to be bested by a short skinny guy, (sorry, Adam) I was once again driven to improve even further.

It was a long and painful process, but eventually I was able to do a few easy Heavy songs. Today, I'm able to do almost all songs at an 8-footer difficulty, and a good number of 9-footers. Once again, I got a big head about all this, and was ready to prove to anybody that I'm a DDR master. Not a chance.

The other day, I made a trip to the mall to buy a few DVDs, and stopped in the arcade. The machine was open, so I dropped in 3 tokens and played a few of my better songs. I wasn't at my best, since I'm not used to the hard pad on the machine, but at least I didn't look terrible. When I finished, I had attracted the attention of at least one guy, who asked if he could play the next round. Eager to be the better of him, I agreed, and he stepped on...

...and promptly humiliated me.

He was able to do the 9 and even 10-footers with great ease. I'd never even seen anybody do all of the "Paranoia" remixes in one sitting (er, standing), much less any of the "Maxx" stages without collapsing to the floor, but he made it look like a walk in the park. He hopped off, cracked his neck, and stood there, looking at me. I stood there, too, with my mouth slightly agape, gasping for breath after thinking I could keep up with him on his last song selection. I said nothing, and stumbled away.

I felt absolutely embarassed, thinking I was going to walk in as the best there is. When it comes to DDR, that sort of mentality is a very bad thing to have until you're able to do almost any song on any difficulty. I've learned that the hard way, and only recently at that.

Just a couple of days ago, I returned to the mall. I'm either a glutton for punishment, or I hadn't learned my lesson the first time, so I went to the arcade for another round. "The other day had to have been a fluke," I told myself. Not so. This time, there were three guys, all of whom were higher-level maniacs than the first one I'd encountered. Humbled once again, I left with my tail between my legs, wondering if I'd ever be able to achieve that level of greatness.

Broken, but not defeated entirely, I decided to take yet another couple of full-comboed steps in the right direction.

I went to the local Game Stop! in the mall that same day and plopped down a cool $99 for a redoctane Dance Pad. I'm serious about this now. For the lesser informed, redoctane is, hands-down, the absolute best brand of DDR pad money can buy. My particular model is a zip-open pad, with hard foam inserts inside. Like the arcade version, you can differentiate between the arrows with a feel of the foot, which puts the player at a definite advantage. Also, unlike the cheap pads that I'd taken my first steps on, (which I now refer to as "garbage bags") the redoctane doesn't slip and slide around.

In just these past two days of using the redoctane, I can already tell a difference in my abilities. I've been able to get a low 'B' on "Tsugaru" on Heavy Mode. This seemed a total impossibility when I was in my early Heavy days.

One day, mark me, I will achieve "Maniac" status, and will be able to keep step with even the best of them.

Every day, I get a few arrows closer.

One of these days...

2004-07-17T20:01:00.000-07:00

I've got dozens upon dozens of noteworthy links that I wish to share with the world. I'm going to link the hell out of this site.

Once I can figure out how to do it, that is.

Things That Rock, Part I

2004-07-08T18:16:00.000-07:00

Do you know what rocks? I'll tell you what rocks.

Dumpster diving.

Yes, you heard right. For those who don't know what this pasttime is, put simply, it's digging through people's garbage and taking stuff.

It sounds disgusting, and at times, it can be. But as foul as it may seem, it's equally profitable.

People throw away a ton of valuable stuff. You just have to know where to look. Me, I started by rummaging through the dumpster where I work. Hey, I throw our garbage into it every day anyway, so I get a first-hand look at what's inside.

There are a few apartments above the coffee house/UPS depot, home to a bunch of wasteful college students, unlike myself. (I recycle my aluminum, eat all my veggies, and horde crap like it's the end of the world.) I've rescued a metal chair, a metal stool, a round table that screws into a base, a bunch of computer stuff, and one of those collapsable net bag things you put laundry in.

And that's just from one dumpster in less than two weeks.

There are no official rules to dumpster diving, just open the lid, pray that birds don't fly out and smack you in the face (which happened to me once), hope that your dumpster isn't home to maggots (which I've seen on more than one occasion), and cross your fingers for a big haul. (which doesn't always happen; it usually takes a few tries to hit paydirt.) After that, just poke around with a stick or something, grab whatever's not nailed down, and be on your merry way.

The city may frown upon it, but I've never found any documentation that explicitly states dumpster diving as being an illegal activity. Well, in Lincoln, anyway. Okay, fine, I haven't actually checked the city ordinances, but it's not like I'm robbing a bank. You may get weird looks from passerby, and you could even be stopped by a policeman, but you can always just use the Universal Excuse: "I'm looking for boxes." It's always worked for me, and they'll just leave you to your sifting.

Honestly, I see no harm in it. It's just stuff that people are literally junking anyway. I'll get more use out of it than a landfill would, anyway. I draw the line with some things, though. I'll refuse things that are absolutely encrusted in filth, or things that are soaked beyond salvage with garbage water, but I'm willing to get my hands dirty to clean something of value. Also, while I've heard that some dumpster divers even eat out of dumpsters, I pass on this, too. However, most canned foods behind supermarkets are fair game, and won't kill you if you were to ingest them. Probably.

Stay tuned for more installments of Things That Rock.

People and their neuroses

2004-07-07T20:01:00.000-07:00

At times, I hate people.

Why?

Because people are insane.

I work at a UPS shipping outlet. It's a job that's easy enough, and it's situated in the same building as a coffee shop, which is mostly frequented by bohemians, artists, musicians, chessmasters, bean brew gourmandises, and other intellectuals. I figured that by working there, I'd be able to whittle down the number of nutcases, fruitcakes, and crankshafts that I'd have to encounter in any given situation, seeing as this type of place isn't their natural habitat.

And yet, they still come. I didn't think Lincoln even had that many crazies. But alas, from time to time, I'm unfortunate enough to rub shoulders with even the worst of them.

Oh, sure, I get slews of wonderful people, from crackwhores who try to pay for $.60 of copies with $100 bills (no lie), as well as a plethora of deadbeat dads who need to fax their driver's license and social security card to verify their identities for child support, but that's not the worst of them.

Some time ago, I once had a woman who needed to ship something via UPS Next Day Air. Sure, that's fine. It's easy enough, only takes me about 30 seconds to process and about $30 of your money, give or take $10, depending on where it's going.

When this woman approached the counter with a dejected look on her face, I immediately began to sense that something was awry. Sure enough, before I can even say "hello", she bursts into tears and begins to vehemently inform me that she has something very, very, very, very, very (some more 'veries' have been amended for your convenience) important that needs to go to California tomorrow. I try to calm her down and explain to her that yes, UPS does this every day, I do these kind of packages all the time, and that it's a simple and painless procedure, but for some reason, she can't get this very simple process through her thick skull.

Somehow, I manage to wrest the shipping info and necessary money from this hysterical woman and send her on her less-than-merry way, as she continues to sob and hyperventilate after I have insisted no less than 10 times that her air package will, indeed, arrive before 10:30 A.M. God. It's just a package, but I'm left with her money and misery. Thank you, come again.

Today, even, I found out that Lincoln is even more ghetto than I ever thought.

As I twiddle my thumbs, waiting for a customer, I'm approached by a wonderful trio of Slim Shadies: Two white boys wearing their baseball jersies and hats turned whichever-direction-they-so-please, as well as a Snoop Dogg clone who has his cell phone clipped onto the crotch of his oversized jeans. Word.

These gentlemen (I use the term loosely) strut (and I do mean strut) up to the counter. Their ringleader gestures with a bling-encrusted paw and informs me that he needs to "fax mah drivuh's license and social security cahd to the 'lectric comp'ny, 'kay, dog?". Slightly perturbed, I tell him with a straight face that it's no problem, and set to work. As I run his fax, the brothah of the group starts telling his posse that he saw a nice bike outside (which happened to be mine), and mentions that it's as nice as the "others". Lincoln's had a recent string of bike thefts in the past two weeks, so I began to wonder if these young men were perhaps the culprits.

Fortunately, I've been locking my bicycle with a near-indestructive cable for the past two weeks.

The fax completed, and I put the thought out of my mind. I collected his $2, and handed him his confirmation. I told him "Hey, transmission OK, man.", trying to appease to his senses. He looks me in the eyes and stares blankly for about 5 seconds with his mouth slightly agape, then asks "So... it did go through, right?". I mentally slap my forehead at this young man's brilliant insight, and tell him yes. They swagger away, and I'm left contemplating about driving a handful of pens into my brain.

I'm glad I only work part-time.

Isn't that what blogs are for?

2004-07-04T21:28:00.000-07:00

You know, complaining about things. They're there so you don't bitch about your problems in front of people and irritate them.

Do you want a waamburger and some french cries?

Maybe I should call the waambulance!

Want me to crack open a cold Whineken?

Okay, I'll stop now.

Don't call me unpatriotic...

2004-07-04T20:49:00.000-07:00

I just don't like fireworks. Well, not anymore, at least.

Don't get me wrong, though... I love this country. I love apple pie and hot dogs and kitties and baseball and video games and all that, but it's the celebration that gets old after a while. I've seen the same red-and-blue flower explosion and glittery gold dust and spiraling green fireballs for 18 years in a row. But not this nineteenth. I skipped them this year.

It doesn't take a lot to keep me amused or occupied, but consequently, it doesn't take a lot to bore me, either. Going to see the same old explosions in the sky with my parents and brother got old 5 years ago. Even going with friends is lackluster. I'd rather stay at home and watch a good movie or have an enjoyable conversation with somebody than watch purdy lights in the sky. Maybe this doesn't make sense, but there are other things that I'd get much more satisfaction from doing. It's an economic principle: My time is valuable, and I can maximize my happiness by doing any one of a number of other activities of my choosing.

It sounds selfish, I know, but if you were to twist my arm enough, I'd be glad to go to the fireworks with you. I don't want to disappoint anybody or hurt their feelings by appearing insensitive. I like spending time with others, but if you're already with another group of friends, I'll sooner do my own thing.

I just know I'm going to feel the same way about my birthdays 30 years down the road.

And finally, while I'm on a roll, spending money on personal-sized fireworks is foolish. Once they've been detonated, they're done and spent, and your little investment has literally gone up in smoke. Pointless. They're in the same vein as buying and consuming food, but at least you get nourishment from that.

So take note. If you give me any fireworks, I'm going to end up using them improperly. Because, of course, the impish little boy inside me knows that this is the only reason that fireworks exist--to blow things up. Visualize lots of army man shrapnel and trashcan-lid-and-roman-candle duels, and that ought to be a good starting point.

Stuck at work

2004-06-26T09:23:00.000-07:00

Work is always one of those double-edged swords. On one hand, I'm making money, which I need to live. Money is good. However, the other side is that there are some days where I do nothing productive. Like today.

I'm sitting in front of a computer monitor, just waiting, ever waiting for somebody to show up, needing to pay for to ship an overpriced UPS package. Since that doesn't seem to be happening, there's very little for me to actually do here. My boss is off doing other things for the day, while I'm left minding the shop. Or maybe I should say, sitting on my ass browsing the internet.

The funny thing is, though, that I'm one of those people who really can't stand to see work not done. I'd actually rather be working on something than congealing in one spot all day. I've come to notice these tendencies for some time now. I always have to be doing something. I'll constantly be cleaning, dusting, or aligning things on a desk at perfect 90-degree angles, or else it's almost painful for me to be around. Argh.

I'm the UPS monkey. I'm supposed to be resizing boxes, bubble-wrapping fragile items, and printing off labels. Not today. This is why summer sucks. There's work to be done somewhere, but it's elusive. I'm ready to go back to college already.

20 more minutes and I can get out of here to eat some damn Chinese food. I'm hungry.

Hmm...

2004-06-23T22:53:00.000-07:00

Maybe I should tell people about this blog. Although, I do like listening to myself think quite a bit...

Oh yeah, summer sucks, too (look out for random thoughts)

2004-06-23T20:16:00.000-07:00

It's unbearably hot. My room does have air conditioning, but it's a vertical vent, so little to no cold air (which, according to physics, sinks) as my precious, precious cold air just sifts right back down into the vent. There aren't enough outlets in my room, nor are there enough open spots left on my power strip(s). All of my stuff is in my room. I basically live in my room. The dilemma is poignant.

Oh, and just as a side note, kiddie pools suck. Honestly, what kid ever wanted to swim in two feet of water? I sure as hell didn't. There's barely enough room to float, much less swim. I was the kind of kid who'd prefer to swim in water deep enough to drown me. Kiddie pools require too much effort to drown in. Plus, they kill the grass and make your yard look tacky. (see also: White trash \'hwit 'trash\ n.) Yes, I am bitter about kiddie pools.

I also hate mosquitoes. This story and more on your local news channel at 10.

It's summer

2004-06-23T18:00:00.000-07:00

Yes, dear friends, summer solstice is officially upon us as of the 21st of this month. Me, I'm already looking forward for it to end.

Summer is one of those times where we finally have the time to do the things we wanted to do during the rest of the year but couldn't. I, on the other hand, have far too much spare time. For this reason, I'm already anxious to go back to my university studies. During the summer months, my brain atrophies too much, and I start to spout off stupid questions and become far too static. I can't think of the simplest things when sitting in front of a TV screen is one of the most readily available activities.

Sure, I get out of the house to exercise or spend time with friends, but what is it we usually end up doing? Playing video games and watching movies is what. I crave conversation. I need to force myself to sit down with someone and philosophize for a while. (I can't believe I'm saying this; Philosophy is one of the most boring subjects known to man. [Don't ever major in it, trust me])

So, in short, less summer, more work. I can't handle breaks that last for more than two weeks before I start to become stupid. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go press buttons on a controller for a few hours.

This is just a test

2004-06-21T17:59:00.000-07:00

Nothing is as it seems. This text does not exist, but is merely a glitch in the Matrix.

Digital Ramen

The enigma of the Hundred-Acre Wood

The Idea Factory

Fear and Loathing in New Mexico, or What I Did Last Summer, Part I

Miseria

Small update...

A post? Forsooth!

Still not dead...

I'm not dead yet!

All About The Jeffersons

More musical crap than you can shake a stick at!

Breaking my own rule

lessthanthree

420

M

Things that Rock, part V

A pox on thee, Sanford!

Where mah Peeps at?

cRap

The Cinderella Syndrome

Hygiene

Editus minor

Happy Singles Awareness Day!

"I'm going to explode," or, "Things That Rock, Part the Fourth"

Ouch, my hard drive...

Happy New Year, I guess

All I wanted for Christmas...

Repent, sinners!

Welcome to my crack addiction...

Holy crap.

OMGWTFBBQ

No! Very No!

"Variety is the spice of life"

*head in hands*

Things that Rock, part III

Post-election predictions

Quid Pro Quo

Things that Rock, part II

You need this game.

ARGH no

We've pussified our playgrounds...

In case you haven't noticed...

If you're into that sort of thing...

I need to type a brain dump

Stop calling me, dammit

I have had an epiphany.

Oh, and also...

Avast!

Eat this.

Random facts about EIU

Where were you?

A little something for you

Who wants a FREE iPod? (inquire within)

Sign up at freeipods.com.

WAIT A SECOND, IT'S TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE! (A SCAM I SAY!)

Articles about FREEIPODS.COM

Try this.

College is already killing me...

Nyo ho ho!

Oh, by the way...

Obligatory Pseudo-Livejournal post

Seeking employment as a corporate slave

There's a reason I'm not a Political Science major...

Take your Atkins "diet" and shove it

It's a good thing I'm a guy...

Okay, time for a surreal experience

Great. Now I feel terrible.

I'm not a happy camper

Drink more coffee

I am a bargain DVD consumer whore

I still lack skillz... (A DDR player's story)

One of these days...

Things That Rock, Part I

People and their neuroses

Isn't that what blogs are for?

Don't call me unpatriotic...

Stuck at work

Hmm...

Oh yeah, summer sucks, too (look out for random thoughts)

It's summer

head in hands