Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Electro-leech?

Yesterday I got a frantic call from my roommate. Murder? Theft? Lambasted(just wanted to use that word)? Marooned? The power is out. Roommate turned it off, and didn't tell us. Gracias, compadre.

My evening planned emptied out. Was that much of my evening electric centric? What should I do instead? I walked. I used my legs. My legs were happy. The calves long hated the thighs for collecting dorito and donut fat. The calves swelled to the gauge of artillery, supporting the despised excess blubber.

Air is good. Lungs need air. Sun is good. Scalp needs sun... i think... Anyways I napped on the grass for an hour, then proceeded to do some reading. Life is really really different without electricity. I suspect if the city browned out, drinking would exponentially increase, and slip n slide would immediately come back in style. Maybe both. Slip n slide in budweiser, perhaps?

Either way, I went to bed at, get this ... 10:30. Mainly because the lights were out too. In theory i would have grabbed a book, stuffed myself in a sofa, and read a billion pages. In a more realistic hypothesis, i would grab systematic theology half way into bed, and go 0 to zzzz in 15 secs. Beat that toyota.

Maybe we do make life a lot more complicated than it needs to be.

Need.

More and more I don't understand that word.

Summary: I'm convinced I'm 75% electric dependant.

Weakness

Weakness is despised by humans. Weakness is also adored by humans. Which is it?

20 year old complainers deserve spite. These are those who complain about hair in their food, complain about the weather, complain that their large apt is too big, and never make enough money. That's weakness right there, folks.

Then there are kittens. Kittens are prey to dogs, babies, disgruntled uncles, and the wind. Yet kittens steal the love of many a hot chick. Those mini felines rob the male population of back-rubs and vacations (we can't just leave the cat alone, we have to come back, or bring it with us).

See the disparity? Both are spoiled. Both are weak. Both always need hand holding and spoon feeding. Both are unaware of their huge deficiency. Yet one is a societal bruise, and the other is cherished in calendars in kitchens across the world.

I don't believe the solution is for 20-year olds to grow hair to look like kittens. But I do think admission of weakness is the key. Kittens are expected to be ignorant blocks of fur. Cat brains are as big as yesterday's dukie. But people know better.

I know i suck at kick ball. I know I suck at talking in straight lines of thought. I'm trying to get over it. I'm sure someone out there dislikes me. still feel like hating me?

Anthrax Value Meal

Americans eat fries not fruit. We chose burritos over berries. All people know this. Ask high school scum; he jumps punks for fried chicken, not for bananas. Not only do we eat greasy wagon mutton, but we eat it at speeds up to 100 mph.

And we are afraid of death.

Aside from the skydiving, base jumping, driving in traffic, and football with out cups, danger is everywhere. And we still don't care what we eat. And average people eat on a tri-daily basis. Even seclusion from moving objects and sunlight will still require food.

I have yet to see a food saying 100% death free. Eating apples is taking a chance at choking, or maybe diabetes because of the sugar. Each time the mouth opens, the dice are rolled on our lives. Roll a six and you die. If you eat KFC, you flip a coin. Heads, your dead, tails you are on pump.

And we are still afraid of death.

Fear glazes every phase of our day. Fear of car crash on the highway, fear of lead poisoning in the water, fear of bearded men being terrorists, and that's not even accounting for the psychological time bombs stuck in our sub conscious. Who can sleep?

I can, once I eat some BBQ ribs.

So apparently people are afraid of dying quickly, not dying slowly. This would explain cigarette addiction, consumption of anything fried, football, bloody knuckles, and a slew of other human activities that have no logical evolutionary function. And we call our species logical.

Maybe chemicals wouldn't be so bad if we put them in food. Lead based chicken. Asbestos beef. And of course, the Anthrax value meal. The glass chips burger comes with a side of tranquilizer shake (it's strong enough for any cow). These things won't kill you..... well right now at least.

Summary: You laugh, but your extra value meal isn't far off.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

I can't identify zombies

Everyone knows that zombies smell bad, but I beg to differ.

Sure, there are the "stereotyped" zombies from every horror film. They have the matted hair, the ugly dental work, and the waistline that is the envy of all the super models. But I suspect there are more types of zombies than these.

For instance, there are work-addict-zombies. These zombie grow in a garden of underpaid overtime work in a poorly ventilated office. Late at night, groaning erupts from carpeted cubicles as zombie co-workers wander the halls.

Video game zombies now appear during the day. Back in the day video games were great late night entertainment. Can't play tennis when its dark, but now.... you can play pong! Once the daylight returned, games were set aside and the real thing was played. These days, the games are BETTER than real life. Ok ok, this is not completely true, but you must admit, graphics are good. Would you like to think about your 1 bedroom studio apt, or fight in a huge castle with orcs, trolls, and treasure? Which sounds more fantastic. Ok this question only works on guys. Girls would be saying "i have my own place? How much money do i have to decorate? Is it near a mall?"

And now there are mainstream Zombies. These don't smell, these don't dress drabby. These zombies eat, go to work, and drive normal cars.

So what is zombie about them? Well, talk to any of them, and see how many of these people really think for themselves. I am one of these people. Last time i checked a lot of my thoughts, or talking points, it wasn't pretty. My topics would often bounce from simple materialism to plain re-hash of internet stories. I'm a regular repeating news board. When was my last original thought? Isn't life more than buying new computers, getting HD everything, and saving up for a house to hold it all?

Are there no other choices?

So as in all things, pharisee or not, don't let appearances fool you. The movies got that much right. The hot chick is the vampire, the dead guy is alive, and chances are your friends are under mind control from the internet. Just look for the little plug for the cable in the back of their heads :)

Summary: Live a little. No, live a lot.

Thoughts from the Savon

The regular racks of crap at savon are aluminum. The nicer name brands try to cover the sheet metal with fancy tags. But the really nice products are something else entirely.

Ok, its the woman's products. I must admit I was entranced by the display. The shelf is a sheik white plastic, and get this: has lights underneath the semi-opaque material. This slight of shelf gives the products a glow similar to aliens exiting their space ship. Why IS it so bright in there? Clearly earthly standards are insufficient to sell this product. Only heightened intelligence will sell this girly smell accessories.

Wouldn't it be great to have those lights everywhere in your house? No more ikea lamps crowding your living room, if your floor glows. There's no shadows to scare the kids if the walls have embedded fluoresces. But someone beat me to the punch. Go to San Francisco union station and grab a bite to eat. The tables and some of the dividing walls all have this alien glow. At this rate everything will either look like TRON or Star trek in about 3 years.

I'm just waiting for my light cycle.

Monday, June 4, 2007

Too much fun?

I enjoy a good dinner with great friends.

Sometimes though, you have too many great friends showing up. How is this possible? Ok, if i hang out with cool friend one, life is good. But once there are, say, 6 cool friends at this particular dinner, I start spazing. As each friend slowly arrives at dinner, there's this snowballing expectation that this will be the most awesomest dinner ever. And just like great rollercoasters; they always let you dow. Hard.

I can only imagine the problem getting worse. Dinner with one friend? Great! Dinner with 2 friends: ok. Dinner with 6 friends: getting really high expectations. After a few years, then Wedding : all your friends. I expect that to be the saddest day of my life, my expectations skyrocketing to the tip of pluto.

Expectations are a funny thing, no matter how hard you chant they never seem to go away. Fairly soon you start expecting expectations. Then you start anticipating expecting expectations. Then you predict you will anticipate expecting expectations. Soon you start making no sense at dinner, and dressing in odd colors to psych yourself out.

The solution is as mysterious as the problem. The answer I've come up with? Have a bad time. Have a really really bad time. This isn't reverse psychology. That stuff doesn't work. You can always pull a anticipated reverse psychology on yourself. So, really. Just have a bad time. Life is full of bad things, may as well take some of them over a friendly dinner instead of some foreign war, or at work with top 3 least favorite people.

Summary: Maybe bad isn't that bad after all. Sorry this isn't a funny entry.

Proof that I am Behind

I haven't posted. I know, it has been an eternity, everyone is waiting.

I run like a starship. In the presence of debris, alien attacks, or severe Warp Engine Diahrrea, I have emergency procedures. Any regular situation can evolve into extreme awkwardness. This requires going to "red alert".These situations emerge from bad birthday parties, social mixers, blind dates, or eating too many tacos.

1. Shields up - For star wars, a sciency bubble pops up and bounces back evil laser blasts. In real life, any kind of cover will do. Books, walls, tombstones; these will all work. Get some solid material between you and that pesky chatterbox, deflecting annoying stories about corn or nephews.
2. Crewmen in their Quarters - Minimize your damage. Don't talk about important life changing issues in hte presence of a threat. Financial woes, relational problems in the hands of a gossiper will destroy your reputation. If conversing with a social leech, serious issues signal a tender area. This slimy person will claim the name of "friend" for years to come. Stick to topics like "cotton sure looks a lot like cotton candy. mm!"
3. Arm the Torpedos - There times when other people in the conversation have your secrets. Keeping your own mouth shut is easy, but commanding the trap of another proves very difficult. Sometimes you have to blow the other person out of the water to save your secrets. Hold nothing back.
1. (to the group) Squealer: "Hey tim, remember when we were with the guys and you ..."
2. Me: "Dude, My little pony is the lamest thing ever. Dancing ice cream colored ponys with powers? HA... Did your mom forget you were a boy?"
3. Squealer: " .... but Fizzy and the beauties were so cute...
4. Shutdown unnecessary functions - Niceness, politeless, being logical; these are all unnecessary. All you need to do is make this awkward situation Stop. Make it stop
1. Leech: You know tim, sometimes in small group, I think of you as a pretty girl, and i start to fall in love...
2. Me: Ok waste for brains, giraffes are nothing like zebras, except that your momma likes both of them more than you.
5. Warp 9 - No matter how cool you are, there is always someone lamer than your coolness. Don't be prideful. GET OUT. MOVE IT.

Summary: Girls will find this post boring. I have just discovered these things, whereas Girls have been teaching these things since they had two moving lips. Ask a girl to teach you.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

My 1000 dollar threshold

I’ve clicked though the dell website at least 100 times in the last 2 months, configuring a laptop. I think it’s purely because a laptop costs over 1000 dollars. When a product costs over a thousand dollars, I’ll scrutinize my choice like a dog looking for his own poop in the backyard. If its 900 dollars, I’ll accidentally buy it in the middle of a casual AIM conversation.

Money tolerance is weird. Here’s my price index

  • <$5 – (Don’t think about it): It’s cheap. Buy it, unless it’s a gallon of OJ
  • $5-$10 – (walk around the store 2 times): Well, I really wouldn’t spend on money on it, but if I have to, then so be it. Probably a 5 for 5 beef sandwiches, or a really big pizza
  • $10-$30 – (Spend at least 2 hours reading reviews): This better be a book, or a cheap video game. A REALLY good book
  • $30-$100 – (Just pay it, you will have to): Gas, Treating people out to dinner
  • $100-$500 – (Waste 100 hours, literally, on researching this thing) This thing better be a guitar, a huge monitor, extreme dental work, or car repair
  • $500-$1000 – (Buy immediately if it says ‘Fender’, ‘Gibson’, or ‘taylor’, else, gouge out eyes): This is a lot of hamburgers/ice cream, I better have a darn good reason for buying something in this range
  • $1000-$2000 - (Only buy if you receive sign from Divine power) – If this guitar hasn’t been played by at least 1 super star, I don’t want it. Maybe I might spend this money on a computer.
  • $2000+ I hope she’s worth it.

There are the drawbacks, of course. I bought about 300 dollars worth of Amazon books, priced about 6-15 dollars. Yes, I know. It’s a LOT of books. I have actually finished most of them. For example, I’m currently reading Dave Barry. If you don’t think Dave Barry is funny, I don’t think you are a fellow human.

So I’m thinking about a new policy:

  • Buy things that put you to sleep
    • Food – always induces a nap
    • Books – always induces a coma
    • Cars – you don’t have to walk to places, you just drive there, more time and energy to sleep
    • Beds – increased sleeping capacities
    • Girlfriends - *ahem* I’ll leave the explanation to your imagination
  • Don’t buy things that aggravate you
    • Bad movies
    • Mexican food
    • New ethnic food from far off country
    • Root Canals
    • Doctor’s checkups
    • Jobs – this makes sense, they pay YOU
    • Computers that go obsolete 10 mins after you buy them

Summary: I’m starting to invest in bed and sleeping accessories. My first one is a dictionary.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Isn't it Ironic?

Sorry. I can’t stand misuse of English techniques. It provokes a mild-chili level of annoyance. Someone will misuse the term “paradox” in a joke. Other people will uproariously laugh at the joke. Meanwhile I’ll be fuming, praying for a falling brick to end my misery.

So here’s the story. The details have been changed so readers will not guess if this situation is about them. While driving from church, one of my riders made a passing comment. For their sake, I have modified the comment: “ I brought a jacket today because it looked good. It happened to be really cold today, and I was all warm! How about that? How Ironic!” I wanted to stab myself.

  • Irony - the use of words to convey a meaning that is the opposite of its literal meaning: the irony of her reply, “How nice!” when I said I had to work all weekend.
  • Sarcasm - harsh or bitter derision or irony. – “Of course I would like to go shopping with you” (while doing a Gagging/lynching impression)
  • Catch-22 - A paradox in a law. An example of this is wanting a wife. Getting a wife requires you not wanting them, lest you be called “desperate”, and thus we have a paradox.

I, out of all people should have compassion on those lacking intelligence. I mean, let’s face it, I AM from Oakland public schools. Education was not the priority. Diversity was. We had all kinds of stupid from every ethnicity. It was so bad, we have our own check box on a lot of forms for federal aid, immunizations, and scholastic scoring. For goodness sake, if you don’t know the meaning of the word, don’t use it! Here are some other examples of mistaken usage:

  • Paradox - a statement or proposition that seems self-contradictory or absurd but in reality expresses a possible truth.
  • Analogy - a similarity between like features of two things, on which a comparison may be based: the analogy between the heart and a pump.
  • Allusion – Alluding to; indirect reference
  • Metaphor - a figure of speech in which a term or phrase is applied to something to which it is not literally applicable in order to suggest a resemblance, as in “A mighty fortress is our God.” Or “Kevin is corpse ever since he started playing warcraft.”
  • Simile - a figure of speech in which two unlike things are explicitly compared, as in “she is like a rose,” “Mitchell is like a manatee”, or “love is like a lot like wrestling”
  • Illustration - a comparison or an example intended for explanation or corroboration. Example – Tell a story about incarceration. Then use the principles of prison and parallel marriage. See? Marriage makes much more sense now.

Summary: Go Forth and be Language-awesome!

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Internet is the new TV

I wasted 3 hours on the internet yesterday. Skipped a meal, held in my pee. For 3 hours.


It’s not hard to do. Internet is everywhere. Wireless is seriously being emitted magically from all spaces and bounces everywhere. It’s the new buried treasure. Every 20 feet, if there is a chance for email, I’ve seen people looking for wireless in the middle of the street, fishing with their laptops. Not that there is anything wrong with free wireless internet, I am completely grateful to the idiots next door. By the way, no one cares if you name your wireless “I eat bears” or “I date models”. The pirate is hacking is going through YOUR IP.

How is the internet addicting? It feels good to get mail. Everyone checks mail every half hour. The email high leads to addiction. Addiction then leads to desperation. An email will do. Desperation gets high enough that people even start reading the ads emailed to you. Lower Mortgage, free LCD panels, etc. etc. I’m sure in some cubicle in circuitville, someone gets high every time Amazon confirms their order for the next Harry potter book. And how many people did the prince if Nigeria ask for help?

The other top time sinks are: (drum roll) social sites. Facebook is friendser, xanga, AiM, etc, etc. It’s all the same. The internet has only allowed more goofballs and nutjobs to proliferate their own narcissim, and to “add friends” to do the same. All the people worth any pile of beans aren’t online, because they are busy doing something that doesn’t massage their own ego.

I’m waiting for the next big website. There was MySpace and FaceBook. I’m waiting for My-Shrine-ToMyself.Com. Instead of “poke” you can have “Give alms” and “Idolize”. You’ve got 1000 people idolizing you!

People who stared at the mirror all day used to be called “Vain”. But now the mirror has a few different faces, and it also reflects your words, personality, and other useless facts. No one cares who your top celebrity look-a-likes are. No one cares what book you would read on a desert island. (Most people can’t even name a book, short of Harry Potter).

Summary: Read a book.

I fear the Shower

I’m pretty sure I will die in the shower. One quiet day, I’ll be a little too rough with the temperature dial and one turn too far will gift me with a lake of fire experience. If that doesn’t do me in, I’ll fry my reproductive organs and lose the will to live and finish the deed myself.

The runner up fear to frying in the shower is falling down in the shower. To guard against shower falls, I now sit in the tub and wash myself. Can’t fall down if I’m already there. I now wash my big, fat, bearish self lounging in pool of soap and water. I use my left paw to slap myself with Dove bar soap. I use other my right paw to prevent drowning, propping my head out of the stream of water.

Yes, I struggle with life. In short rooms, I’ll bang my head. Corners on desks, coffee tables, boney people; they bruise me in all sorts of new ways. Rugs? Aren’t they safe? Nopes, go too skinned knees and elbows from tripping over shoelaces and the vacuum cleaner.

No, it won’t be bombs, anthrax, nor stray bullets that will be my ultimate demise. No, laziness will be my assassin, clumsiness his accomplice. Guess which method will do me in.

  1. I’ll finish greasing a pig and slip up with a cleaver. Bye-bye throat.
  2. I’ll try to iron a shirt in the shower for efficiency. Fried Chicken anyone?
  3. On a newly waxed floor, I will bend over to pick up a chip that I coughed up laughing at my own joke, slip and break my spine.

Ironically one of these has already happened. Care to guess which one?

Summary: Life is rough.

A Horse! Of course!

I wish was a horse. Strong. Free. Glistening flowing mane.

Animals have it easy compared to humans. Well, let me correct that. Certain animals have it easy compared to humans. There would always be cows that accidentally show up next to Black Angus. They will have the same fate as the oreo next to the cookie monster.

But with squirrels, dogs, cats, and smart possums, life is great, playing in the trees. Dumb possums play dead in the middle of the highway. Playtime is over very quickly. But for all tree loving critters, who wants to be a human?

Here are human expectations:

  1. Clean yourself
  2. Don’t eat off the ground
  3. Don’t be ugly
  4. Don’t be sick
  5. Pay your taxes
  6. Respect your parents
  7. Give money to poor people
  8. Be nice to people you don’t know
  9. And on and on…. “human” etiquette

For all other creatures under the sun, you have only a few expectations to meet:

  1. Poop wherever you like
  2. Eat anything weaker than you
  3. Be dirty (if you see a really clean raccoon, you must admit, it’s real scary. Why would a raccoon be so clean)
  4. Eat weak children
  5. Snarling

Added bonus is there’s no child raising. Often times, you leave the kids in the sand and hope for the best. Come on now, you hoomans. If you could choose, what would you be?

Disclaimer: some people may say, “Tim, if you are a animal, you can’t girlfriends or boyfriends, so isn’t it obvious?

Depends on who you ask.

Summary: If I was an ugly horse. I would blame my master. Eat that Sea Biscuit.

On the top of my lap

Everyone has a laptop. Elmo has a laptop, my relatives have laptops; I expect even Juju the crack dealer to have a laptop.

The new thumb twiddling is the internet. Ok, so it sounds cliché. But its true! Every coffee shop seems to be low on the caffine bean and high on the anodized aluminum laptop casing. About 85% of people in coffee shops have a 15in glossy screen dazzling their faces. The other 15% just don’t have their laptops WITH them.

Laptop ownership has a certain look to it. Usually it’s a sling bag, tight pants, an oversized purse, or a hunch in someone’s posture. Shifty eyes, clammy hands, and untargeted stares cloth many a net junkie. Everyone is itching to check their email. I once heard someone “miss the warmth of my ‘top on my lap”

Business suits can be expected to have a portable computer. Bluetooth earpiece people are expected to be similarly equipped. Actually, that description sounds like an old shoplifting lady. Beyond laptop people, there are APPLE laptop people. They’ve got this smell, and this … aura. It’s a little pretentious.

Opening apple laptops is this slow process. They crack it open like a hard boiled egg. Then they wipe their screen/keyboard with their choice-yak-haired cloth. They give a little look around which slowly whistles, “this is cool. Everyone see? I am cool. This is expensive. But I can afford it. And I am all the more awesome.” That’s why bargain hunters who fish for macBooks seem a little bewildered when they get one.

I’m a little hesitant to join this crew of electronics hauling geeks. It’s another $2,000 accident waiting to happen. Or a $2,000 brick to be left on the bus, dropped on the floor. Or $2,000 worth of sprayed coffee guilt.

Knowing my track record with Gameboy, Cell phones, hot potatoes, fly balls, girls hands, and car keys. Maybe I better stay away.

Summary: Don’t give me small things

Peace

Peace is misunderstood. I often mistook peace for several days of online Gaming. Was I happy? The fantastic virtual victories overshadowed the constipation, incredible B.O., and voluntary fasting. The euphoria lasted only as long as the monitor was on. Once my aluminum tower shut down for the day, so did my gamer High. And after that crash came starcraft withdrawl and depression.

So what is peace?

Is it having a personal army of slaves to dote and protect you? Is it having a supermodel girlfriend? Is it owning a large software corporation built on thievery? Is it being president?

Anything mentioned here either can

  1. Betray you
  2. Steal from you
  3. Make you a Target
  4. Steal your Chicken McNuggets

And all of those things AREN’T peaceful. Especially number 4, (those bastards).

Peace used to be a hard day’s work, marrying your high school sweetheart, or teaching your son the importance of zipping his fly. These days, peace is made up of cable internet, HD cinema, and a sound system that removes fillings in your teeth. And with all this new silicon driven ease, peace seems harder to find.

After being in the Ikea and S&M jungle, I envy my simpler friends that go to a regular job, have a small family, and take life slow. They smile bigger than us in the career rat race. Maybe it’s because they only get 4 channels of Television. Maybe its because their family dinners aren’t interrupted by cell phones. Maybe its because they don’t need Disneyland to have family time.

Maybe “less is more” (relient K).

Summary: Too bad less is less business, so we won’t see that slogan anytime soon.

I use too many words

Superfluous, inundating, overwhelming, tsunamic. Whatever you want to call it, so I am. I don’t summarize. I don’t approximate. I rarely overview. Once these two chapped lips start opening and closing, the mouth engages and trash begins to fly at startling speeds.

Here’s a typical Process

“Tim, what do you think of Jakey?”

Answer:

  1. The history of Tim and Jakey, our rough relationship
  2. The current policies between Tim and Jakey
  3. My overall estimation of Jakey’s thoughts and Actions
  4. A disclaimer of my limited brain and knowledge
  5. My skewed imbalanced view of all those things, considering all those factors
  6. Another disclaimer to secrecy and my idiocratic mood

I noticed I do that a lot. Sorry friends! I’m trying hard to summarize first, and give details later.

Where does this habit come from? My suspicions are many. The prime suspect is my relationship with my mother. Explaining my actions was like Law and Order Criminal Intent. I needed to explain every possible action.

“Tim, son, did you do your homework”

Answer

  1. Yes

“But I don’t SEE you doing homework. (anger rising)”

Answer

  1. The rest of the students are Stupid
  2. Homework is a joke
  3. The bus ride i have to take is a super long route. Plenty of time to do the homework
  4. I do many things without her supervision. I save children, devise way to end hunger, clean my room and then mess it up again. A lot of stuff happens

Anger subsides. Tim’s hiney is safe again.

Summary: I guess you never really get away from home.

Focus, grasshopper! Focus!

dinho ooo: dang your xanga is crazy
me: ?
me: did you just find it?
dinho ooo: yeah
dinho ooo: its harder to follow than you are

I can’t blog about one idea. Remember the clown gag with a hankerchief? Once the hankerchief is yanked out, another one is tied to the end of it, and so on and so on till you have a laundry basket full of snot rags. That's exactly how my thinking works. Once one idea graces the journal, I find another idea tied to it, even another idea past that.

Focus. I need focus. I need to improve. I am tempted to try some techniques from Kung Fu movies and cartoons. It usually involves standing on one foot and balancing rice bags, or focusing all your chi on a single leaf. Hopefully at the end of the training, I will be able to focus like I'm on riddlin. If not, at least I'll come away with the exploding palm technique or something like that.

To get started, I googled for "focus" to get some pithy sayings.

"Concentration is the master key to all success. It is the fundamental law of achievement. The man who does not concentrate will be either a half success, a mediocrity or a complete failure".
-- Orison Swett Marden, Prosperity: How to Attract It, 1922

Ok, so this quote really doesn't do anything for me. "Concentration" could be replaced with any other word, say "Cinnamon Bits" or "Dwarves" and mean the same thing. My rating of this quote : 2/10

"I never hit a shot, not even in practice, without having a very sharp in-focus picture of it in my head."
-- Jack Nicklaus


What nutjob uses this quote to inspire himself? Focus and concentration is important. But not important enough to pick up sniper like tendencies. I can picture my xanga interview now - "Every time i blog, i think about a .50 caliber rifle, and I'm trying to center my red targeting laser on a head. That guy is an idea. I need to kill it to get it.....". Yeah, that isn't violent at all. Points to this quote for including guns and a cool German name : 5/10

"Concentrate all your thoughts upon the work at hand. The sun's rays do not burn until brought to a focus."
-- Alexander Graham Bell (Inventor)


This is actually a pretty cool quote. One, the author is Alex Bell. Two, everyone remembers burning ants or your mom with the magnifying glass. Heck, even MacGuyver started many explosions with glasses and a room of sun. And the quote isn't ridiculously long. Try quoting that first quote 6 times fast. I don't need the first sentence, the second sentence is good by itself. My rating: 10/10

If you hear me talking about the burning in the sun. I'm working on focus.

Summary: Why are all the good quotes pre-1900s? Are we that dumb?

Friday, May 4, 2007

I am unfit for wit

I want to be witty.

Since I said that first statement, let me say another: I’m not. It’s similar to any geek donning on some $500 and announcing “I’m cool!” No. You are not, and you will never be. In the same way, I can repeatedly announce my awesomeness, when it’s plain by my face, I am not.

The only way to be witty is … to be witty. My best definition of wit is using everything at surprising appropriate times. I may as well be random. Randomness is not wit. If I walked into a McDonalds and said, “Uncle Bernie has an dodo, and my sister is stapler,” that is not wit. That is the kind of crazy that you get from overdosing crack or COSMO mags.

Here’s an example of wit

“What is power? Power is getting an honorary doctorate from the university that expelled you your freshmen year. Power is living in a mansion for thirty years and never knowing where the kitchen is. Power is walking with your fly open and everybody thinking you’re a fashion leader. Power is the most sought after, addictive, seductive, abused drug there is. Compared to power, crack is Fruitopia.

I believe it’s the Bible that says “With great power comes great responsibility.” No, wait, that was Stan Lee in “Spiderman”

Now I don’t want to get off on a rant here, but let’s talk about power- how to get it, what to do with it, when to use it, and most importantly, where to store it at what temperature. Because make no mistake, power is a perishable good.”

Man. That’s gold. I was so amused, I dropped my poo poo prematurely reading on the toilet. Witty people can say the craziest things at the proper time to belt their point for additional points. Here’s another example:

Fear and insecurity touch many nutcakes ‘cross this great land of ours. Up in our Ivory Towers, white professors whose closest contact with real black people is James Earl Jones voice over on CNN are busy composing master treatises on the genetic deficiencies of blacks.

Meanwhile down the hall in the Afro-centric wing a learned Ph. D in mathematics is insisting that X = Malcom.

The main reason for this entry is an apology. Should a conversation ensue, and I rant like a Yeti with a yak-sized dose of redbull: I’m sorry. I’m probably trying to be witty, I’m just not there yet.

Summary: My uncle is crazy. I wonder if he’s also trying to be witty?

Identity Issues

Every show has it’s cool guy. Seinfeld had Kramer. Friends had Joey. Saved by the Bell had Zack, Smallville has superman (duh). Unfortunately I don’t relate to any of those people.

Cool comes in. Cool guy uses funny line. Cool guy gets girl. People laugh. Random crazy nutjob comes in with a crack pot idea for making action heroes out of melted crayons, and I start chuckling. Oh crap. I relate with the eat-too-many-cheetos guy. I relate with some odd things in entertainment.

One of the most painful movies I’ve seen is “My Best friend’s wedding”. No, I do not wish I was Julia Roberts. No, I do not want to steal away the groom. Basically girl and guy are friends. Guy decides to get married to new young chick. Girl goes and tries to break it up so she can finally get with Guy. Julia Roberts spends an hour and a half trying to say “I like you”, and lying her way out of deception.

I THINK most people like the movie. I’m not sure what they like about it. I start to get an ulcer around the 3rd lie. Each further deception takes me back through all the blackest things I’ve ever done to cover up. I leave that movie feeling really bad for the liar main character. I don’t see anything endearing in that movie. It’s trying to adore selfishness. In fact, selfishness done poorly (she gets caught).

So after relating with Screech, George, and the unnamed ensign that always gets killed on star trek, I’ve taken a break from Television and movies. Hopefully I can enshroud myself with the idea that I’m cool. Am I?

Summary: I once saw the hero get shot in an action flick. I felt sorry for the jacket that got messed up by all the blood. Maybe I’m heartless.

Tuesday, May 1, 2007

Burning Chicken Soup

Ouch. My stomach burns. The burning isn’t love, courage, or anger. I am suffering from fiery bathroom woes. Each visit to the bathroom sounds like adding chicken broth to a bubbling cauldron. After glancing in the porcelain, I can only name it Burning Chicken Soup. It feels like I accidentally sat on a Bunsen burner. Accidentally sat for 4 hours, ate some butane and now have a fire out my anus.

I never knew so much liquid could leave my body. I’ve deluged the toilet at least a dozen times. The pain horrifies me, and awkwardness unsettles me. The only good thought floating around is the hope of weight loss. Sickness always is a ferocious diet. I fear drinking. I fear eating. And here I lounge on the couch, stomach full of napalm like acid, envying the dead. My only joy is Ill be an Ally McBeal look a like in a few hours.

Stomach Flu never ranked high on my list of fears, but it's contending for the top spots now. It's up there next to root canals and shopping. Number 1 or 2 on the list is chronic writers block. Why? Well.....

Summary: Oh crap.

Where'd all the chips go?

I like visitors. Furniture revitalizes a living room, but people are required for great memories. My best memories and jokes are born from unexpected friendly drop-ins.

Not all visitors are sweet fragrances to the nose of life.

Health - Loki himself doesn’t like your happy life, nor your ugly mug. Whimsically, he sends crashers to annoy till crap fills your words and fills your pants. By definition, the nightmare visitor always has some viral disease. There’s no hope for health. Inject a whale-sized dose of airborne, but it’s over. Your body may fend off the disease, but the couch, the chair, and the favorite porcelain seat has no white blood cells.

Cleanliness - Bad visitors fear the laundry machine. Well, maybe they fear soap in general, or they hope to season new food with old grease stains. Say good-bye to matching couches once one of these Crisco buffoons goes swimming in the leather cushions. A favorite saying is: “it’s been ….. since I showered”. Other remarks might be “I never knew sewers were so cramped and wet”, “the bayou feels weird on your skin”, or “I am the THING”.

Food - The secret to keeping away unwanted visitors is the pantry. Snacks are great becase of their taste, small sizes, and portable packages. Snacks are NOT great because of their taste, small sizes, and portable packages. Pringles, chips, and crackers invite visitors to crop dust rug and living room. Never have good leftovers. The scavengers will smell and feed off your refrigerator undesirables. Chinese or pasta leftovers have a 90% chance of leading to a NAP.

Nap – Naps are sweet gifts from a good God. Vagrants napping in your place are the one of the plagues of Egypt. Extended napping increases the chances for more nasty annoying antics. No matter how good a friend is, people that use stranger’s toothbrush and pajamas should be shot. Sure, you’ve never actually touched him. Then why does it feel like you’ve just had a 20 min broke-back encounter?

Summary: Buy a crappy place. It’s your turn to be the vagrant.