I don't like Apple.
Never have, and I doubt that I ever will.
Is it because I'm some rabid PC fan? Hardly. Linux evnagelist? Nope.
The primary reason I don't like Apple is that I've had to use their products in a professional setting (not much choice when you're working in desktop publishing), and my personal experience has been that Macs suck. They're buggy, they crash constantly, and there's just some undefinable quality to the interface that irritates the hell out of me.
Then there's the whole Mac-head culture.
It's not the culture itself that bothers me so much as the fact that there is a culture at all.
(I have much the same problem with Linux).
To me, a computer is a tool, not a lifestyle choice. I don't give a rat's ass how warm and fuzzy your iMac makes you feel; what I care about is whether or not it works.
And, as mentioned, in my experience, Macs don't work.
Now if your experience is different, fine. If they work flawlessly for you, more power to you. If you think that they somehow have the power to bring the world together in unity and to cure your toenail fungus, you're an idiot, and I don't want to hear about it.
Certainly, Macs have little or nothing to do with karma.
(This quote from the article, in reference to the anti-piracy poem embedded in OS X, ought to tell you everything you need to know about why I hate Mac-head culture: "It does have the deterring effect: If you were going to pirate, you'd look at this and say, 'That's just sad. I'd feel bad (stealing from) these people.' ")
Also, the iPod was not the revolutionary device that Mac-heads would have you believe.
There are much better MP3 players out there.
In fact, I've owned two of them.
Which leads me to my point. My current MP3 player, which has a large color screen and can play video files (which I purchased long before the Video iPod was anything other than a rumor), is dying.
Or rather, its non-replaceable battery is.
It remains fit for its current use, which is to be left plugged in to AC power and piped through my receiver as a home stereo system.
But if I'm going to force myself to get back into walking and working out, it would be nice to have a portable MP3 player.
My PDA can play MP3s, but the interface is a little clunky.
Since I now have the laptop to provide video entertainment when I travel, I really don't need anything too fancy, and since most of my MP3s can be archived on my existing player's 20 GB hard drive, I could go with something smaller.
*Sigh*
So I bought a 2 GB iPod Nano.
I just have to remind myself that it's a tool (or a toy, at any rate)l, not a lifestyle choice. Certainly I'm not going to turn into some kind of pretentious neo-hippie asshole or anything.
I'd better not.
At least it's black...
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Just Pay For Your Pine Cleaner And Get The Hell Out Of The Way
I had my bi-weekly meeting today, which necessitated driving in to work.
Since I was headed in that general direction anyway I stopped at the Safeway across the street from my old apartment to gas up, as it seems to have the cheapest gas around.
I'd left earlier than I really needed to in order to make my way over to the Dulles Town Center to try a Pizza Dog for lunch. It was good, but it's got nothing on the Bacon Dog.
While I was there I actually saw someone from work, which makes this the first time in 3+ years that I've been out and just randomly seen someone from work (not counting a former boss whom I saw at a grocery store a while after he'd gotten canned).
Even though she was there on her own and is at this point the only attractive woman I ever encounter at work on a regular basis, as previous attempts at engaging her in conversation on the job have led to me picking up the "I hate you" vibe that emanates from her whenever I try engaging her in conversation.
Of course, I think "hate" is a bit strong, as I don't imagine that she gives me enough thought or energy to actually muster up hatred for me, but it's been very clear that she doesn't like me.
Why? I don't think there's any particular reason. Certainly I haven't done anything that I can think of that would make her dislike me.
Other than simply existing, at any rate, which I've found over the years is often enough to make most women dislike me.
But whatever.
From there I went to the meeting and afterwards spent the better part of an hour trying to get home.
Actually, it was the worst part of an hour because it shouldn't have taken that damn long, and most of that time was spent on a highway that looked more like a parking lot.
This led to all sorts of angry questions, like "Why is this taking so long?" and "Why are there so many cars on the road at two in the afternoon on a Thursday?" and "Whose bright idea was it to have two lanes of this on-ramp merge into one lane immediately before that lane has to merge with a busy highway?"
Once I actually got onto Route 7 from 28 I still wasn't moving, as it was apparently some kind of road construction five miles down the road that had everything backed up, so I decided to turn off into Ashburn and get onto the Greenway and pay the $2 to get home.
Since I needed to stop for a few groceries anyway, and this alternate route was taking me right past it, I stopped at the Shoppers in Ashburn.
Once I grabbed my three items I headed for the express lane. There were two people ahead of me and they were both purchasing only one item, so I thought that there was no possible way for either of them to make the process of buying one product complicated.
I was mistaken.
The old man at the head of the line decided to deliver a broken-English lecture to the mopey teenaged cashier about the power of a smile.
Still at near postal levels from the traffic experience, I damn near exploded, though I did restrain myself and stood there in my silent rage rather than busting out with something along the lines of, "Look old guy, it's great that you've lived for like a hundred years or whatever and have maintained a sunny disposition and that you want to share your wisdom and experience with the younger generation, but somewhere along the line in your increasingly rapid procession to the grave you should have come to realize that mopey teenagers are going to be mopey no matter what you say to them. And just because you're not in a hurry, and are, in fact, desperate to put on the brakes, that doesn't mean the rest of us don't have places we'd rather be than standing in line listening to you delivering advice that wouldn't be listened to even if it could be understood, okay?
And by the way, in the future you can go ahead and shell out the extra twenty cents and spring for actual Pine-Sol rather than 'Pine Cleaner.'"
While I was standing there not saying any of that the old guy got some kind of noncommital grunt from the mopey teen, which apparently satisfied him and he was on his happy way, while the mopey teen soldiered on mopily.
Even the lady ahead of me buying a bag of carrots managed to stall for a little time by having to count out exact change to pay for them.
What is wrong with people? What is so goddamn hard about just keeping your mouth shut, paying for your shit, and getting the hell out of the next person's way? Don't try to start up a conversation, don't watch every single item ring up and try to haggle over the price, find out how much something costs before you get in line so that you won't be shocked when it costs a whopping ten cents more than you expected, don't pay for your shit with pennies, and if you have some kind of problem take it up at the service counter after you've gotten the fuck out of my way.
It's really very easy, so why do you insist on making it so difficult?
*Sigh*
So yeah, that was my day, which was just the perfect way to end my weekend.
Actually, once I got home it wasn't so bad, as I was able to relax and not deal with people.
And of course now I've had the chance to vent, so I'm feeling much better.
Hopefully the next three days of working will be a lot less irritating, but you'll note that I'm not turning blue from holding my breath.
In any case, I hope all of you have a relaxing, hassle-free weekend.
Since I was headed in that general direction anyway I stopped at the Safeway across the street from my old apartment to gas up, as it seems to have the cheapest gas around.
I'd left earlier than I really needed to in order to make my way over to the Dulles Town Center to try a Pizza Dog for lunch. It was good, but it's got nothing on the Bacon Dog.
While I was there I actually saw someone from work, which makes this the first time in 3+ years that I've been out and just randomly seen someone from work (not counting a former boss whom I saw at a grocery store a while after he'd gotten canned).
Even though she was there on her own and is at this point the only attractive woman I ever encounter at work on a regular basis, as previous attempts at engaging her in conversation on the job have led to me picking up the "I hate you" vibe that emanates from her whenever I try engaging her in conversation.
Of course, I think "hate" is a bit strong, as I don't imagine that she gives me enough thought or energy to actually muster up hatred for me, but it's been very clear that she doesn't like me.
Why? I don't think there's any particular reason. Certainly I haven't done anything that I can think of that would make her dislike me.
Other than simply existing, at any rate, which I've found over the years is often enough to make most women dislike me.
But whatever.
From there I went to the meeting and afterwards spent the better part of an hour trying to get home.
Actually, it was the worst part of an hour because it shouldn't have taken that damn long, and most of that time was spent on a highway that looked more like a parking lot.
This led to all sorts of angry questions, like "Why is this taking so long?" and "Why are there so many cars on the road at two in the afternoon on a Thursday?" and "Whose bright idea was it to have two lanes of this on-ramp merge into one lane immediately before that lane has to merge with a busy highway?"
Once I actually got onto Route 7 from 28 I still wasn't moving, as it was apparently some kind of road construction five miles down the road that had everything backed up, so I decided to turn off into Ashburn and get onto the Greenway and pay the $2 to get home.
Since I needed to stop for a few groceries anyway, and this alternate route was taking me right past it, I stopped at the Shoppers in Ashburn.
Once I grabbed my three items I headed for the express lane. There were two people ahead of me and they were both purchasing only one item, so I thought that there was no possible way for either of them to make the process of buying one product complicated.
I was mistaken.
The old man at the head of the line decided to deliver a broken-English lecture to the mopey teenaged cashier about the power of a smile.
Still at near postal levels from the traffic experience, I damn near exploded, though I did restrain myself and stood there in my silent rage rather than busting out with something along the lines of, "Look old guy, it's great that you've lived for like a hundred years or whatever and have maintained a sunny disposition and that you want to share your wisdom and experience with the younger generation, but somewhere along the line in your increasingly rapid procession to the grave you should have come to realize that mopey teenagers are going to be mopey no matter what you say to them. And just because you're not in a hurry, and are, in fact, desperate to put on the brakes, that doesn't mean the rest of us don't have places we'd rather be than standing in line listening to you delivering advice that wouldn't be listened to even if it could be understood, okay?
And by the way, in the future you can go ahead and shell out the extra twenty cents and spring for actual Pine-Sol rather than 'Pine Cleaner.'"
While I was standing there not saying any of that the old guy got some kind of noncommital grunt from the mopey teen, which apparently satisfied him and he was on his happy way, while the mopey teen soldiered on mopily.
Even the lady ahead of me buying a bag of carrots managed to stall for a little time by having to count out exact change to pay for them.
What is wrong with people? What is so goddamn hard about just keeping your mouth shut, paying for your shit, and getting the hell out of the next person's way? Don't try to start up a conversation, don't watch every single item ring up and try to haggle over the price, find out how much something costs before you get in line so that you won't be shocked when it costs a whopping ten cents more than you expected, don't pay for your shit with pennies, and if you have some kind of problem take it up at the service counter after you've gotten the fuck out of my way.
It's really very easy, so why do you insist on making it so difficult?
*Sigh*
So yeah, that was my day, which was just the perfect way to end my weekend.
Actually, once I got home it wasn't so bad, as I was able to relax and not deal with people.
And of course now I've had the chance to vent, so I'm feeling much better.
Hopefully the next three days of working will be a lot less irritating, but you'll note that I'm not turning blue from holding my breath.
In any case, I hope all of you have a relaxing, hassle-free weekend.
The Girl Wth Colitis Goes By
Popular music is rife with misheard lyrics, the most famous of which may very well be “’scuse me while I kiss this guy,” which would seem to indicate a side to Hendrix that most fans hadn’t previously been aware of (for anyone out there too old or too young know, the real lyrics are “’scuse me while I kiss the sky”).
There are, of course, plenty of other examples, such as “she’s got a chicken to ride” (she’s got a ticket to ride) or “there’s a bathroom on the right” (there’s a bad moon on the rise).
I believe there’s actually a series of books detailing these mishearings, at least one of which has the misheard Hendrix lyrics as the title, and there are no doubt plenty of Web sites out there that do the same.
My point? Well, sometimes when you’re out in the word minding your own business, you overhear conversations, and sometimes you can’t be quite sure if you heard what you think you heard.
For example, on Sunday while I was at work I could have sworn I heard someone say, “I try to be a transsexual.”
And yesterday while I was at Wal-Mart I’m reasonably certain that one Associate said to another, “I thought we were going to have to poop in the pants.”
I have to believe that I misheard what was being said in both instances, but in some ways it’s kind of intriguing to think what might have been, positing a world in which Hendrix was getting ready for some guy on guy action, or in which a lady really was using a chicken as a means of conveyance, and in which the guys from CCR really had to pee.
The context of the “transsexual” remark was a manager discussing his management style with an employee. Maybe it was some kind of metaphor, suggesting that the manager, like a tranny, has the ability to see things from both sides.
As for the Wal-Mart conversation, much of it could be attributed to the fact that he was a non-native speaker. Maybe he was simply complaining about Wal-Mart’s draconian rules about when and how many bathroom breaks employees can take, or maybe it was some sort of bizarre tactic for negotiating with management (“Give us better health benefits or we will begin pooping in the pants!”).
Whatever the case, it did make me immediately think of Brian’s alternate lyrics to “Safety Dance.” (You can dance, you can dance, everybody poop in your pants).
In any case, I just can’t help but think that it might be a more interesting world if Stewie really did say “effing cry” in the lyrics to the Family Guy theme song, or if managers at my job really did try to be transsexuals. Not so sure I want Wal-Mart employees pooping in the pants, though.
Of course, I suppose that it might be a more accurate world if I cleaned out my ears a little more often.
There are, of course, plenty of other examples, such as “she’s got a chicken to ride” (she’s got a ticket to ride) or “there’s a bathroom on the right” (there’s a bad moon on the rise).
I believe there’s actually a series of books detailing these mishearings, at least one of which has the misheard Hendrix lyrics as the title, and there are no doubt plenty of Web sites out there that do the same.
My point? Well, sometimes when you’re out in the word minding your own business, you overhear conversations, and sometimes you can’t be quite sure if you heard what you think you heard.
For example, on Sunday while I was at work I could have sworn I heard someone say, “I try to be a transsexual.”
And yesterday while I was at Wal-Mart I’m reasonably certain that one Associate said to another, “I thought we were going to have to poop in the pants.”
I have to believe that I misheard what was being said in both instances, but in some ways it’s kind of intriguing to think what might have been, positing a world in which Hendrix was getting ready for some guy on guy action, or in which a lady really was using a chicken as a means of conveyance, and in which the guys from CCR really had to pee.
The context of the “transsexual” remark was a manager discussing his management style with an employee. Maybe it was some kind of metaphor, suggesting that the manager, like a tranny, has the ability to see things from both sides.
As for the Wal-Mart conversation, much of it could be attributed to the fact that he was a non-native speaker. Maybe he was simply complaining about Wal-Mart’s draconian rules about when and how many bathroom breaks employees can take, or maybe it was some sort of bizarre tactic for negotiating with management (“Give us better health benefits or we will begin pooping in the pants!”).
Whatever the case, it did make me immediately think of Brian’s alternate lyrics to “Safety Dance.” (You can dance, you can dance, everybody poop in your pants).
In any case, I just can’t help but think that it might be a more interesting world if Stewie really did say “effing cry” in the lyrics to the Family Guy theme song, or if managers at my job really did try to be transsexuals. Not so sure I want Wal-Mart employees pooping in the pants, though.
Of course, I suppose that it might be a more accurate world if I cleaned out my ears a little more often.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
That's What I Thought, Bitch
Over the weekend, as my old pair was totally worn from all the walking I did in the spring and summer, I ordered a new pair of Converse All Stars.
When I heard the UPS truck outside I figured I'd check on the status of my shipment. I saw that the shoes were out for delivery, so they should have been on that truck.
And yet, after making a delivery to the building across from mine the driver got in his truck and drove away.
A couple of minutes later, though, I heard the sound of the UPS truck returning.
I said to myself, "That's right, bitch; come on back and give me my shoes."
And the moral of the story is that, within the safety of your own home and outside of anyone's earshot, you need to treat UPS drivers the way a pimp would treat a ho.
Or something.
When I heard the UPS truck outside I figured I'd check on the status of my shipment. I saw that the shoes were out for delivery, so they should have been on that truck.
And yet, after making a delivery to the building across from mine the driver got in his truck and drove away.
A couple of minutes later, though, I heard the sound of the UPS truck returning.
I said to myself, "That's right, bitch; come on back and give me my shoes."
And the moral of the story is that, within the safety of your own home and outside of anyone's earshot, you need to treat UPS drivers the way a pimp would treat a ho.
Or something.
These Things Just Don't Happen To Other People
I can often be heard to voice my belief that there are things that happen to me that can’t – or at the very least, don’t – happen to anyone else.
I have a specific example in mind.
Today, having been prepared for a trek in to work for a training that got canceled, I felt restless enough to venture into the old neck of the woods and stop at the non-ghetto (relatively, at least) Wal-Mart to pick up some things such as bulk quantities of toiletries.
While I was there I also grabbed one of those countertop upright paper towel holders.
Ordinarily these kinds of things are relatively simple to put together: screw this into that, put the roll of paper towel on, done.
I would be lying if I said that the assembly of this particular one was any more complex – in theory – than that, yet in practice it proved to be much more challenging than it really ought to have.
For one thing, the screws just didn’t want to go in easily, necessitating that I break out my cordless screwdriver.
After assembling the basic structure I ran into a problem with the bar that goes through the paper towel roll. Basically, you have to put the paper towel in place, slide the bar through the top, try to match up the screw on the end of the bar with the hole at the bottom, then screw on a cap to hold the bar in place.
(And yes, I do realize how many times I’ve said the word “screw.” It’s going to happen even more.)
This is easier than it sounds, as the bottom end of the bar doesn’t match up with the hole very easily, and even when it does you can’t actually get the bar securely in place.
I took it apart to see if there was a way to rectify this, and inadvertently (and unknowingly) twisted the cap off of its screw and left it in the other end of the bar.
I was trying to see if I could get the bar to screw into the bottom piece more securely without the paper towel roll in place as sort of a practice run. What I didn’t realize was that I’d put the wrong end in, placing the different-sized screw from the top cap into the bottom hole. When I tried to take it apart again the bar came off but left the screw in place. This necessitated getting pliers to take the screw out (which did not have a head, as it was designed to screw into things on both sides).
After all this I was going to just put it together the way it had been before, but I noted that you can actually mount the thing to the wall. I decided that I would do that in order to save counter space. As I was putting the thing back together I dropped one of the screws.
The screw bounced, then rolled into the space between the dishwasher and the sink and managed, like a heat-seeking missile, to wedge itself in the small crack between the end of the hardwood floor and the edge of the sink cabinet, like so:
Attempts to get the screw out led to it rolling under the dishwasher where it will likely be entombed for all time (or until I get a new dishwasher).
Of course, as it requires two screws to mount the thing to the wall, I now have no choice but to leave it on the counter, as I am one screw short, which would seem to be the story of my life.
Now, it just seems statistically unlikely that when I dropped the screw it would seek out that crack as if it knew the best possible way to, well, screw me.
On a more positive note, while I was out I stopped at Best Buy and decided to just get it over with and buy volumes three and four of Batman: The Animated Series and volume two of Superman: The Animated Series.
That gives me the complete Batman series on DVD, and I think that covers the Superman series (which didn’t run as long as Batman) as well, but I’m not 100% sure on that.
Next month they’ll finally begin releasing complete sets of Batman: Beyond (they’d previously only released individual episodes) on DVD, so I’ll likely be picking that up at some point.
Speaking of DVDs, last night I watched Mirrormask. It was just as good the second time around as it was the first.
This time around I had the added benefit of knowing that Stephanie Leonidas was at least 19 or 20 when the movie was being filmed, so I didn’t have to feel like a total pervert for thinking about how cute she is and how I’d like to do naughty things to her.
So that actually enhanced the viewing experience a little, as it’s always good to know that you’re not lusting after underage teenage girls.
Turns out I'm not attracted to 14 year old girls...just 20 year old girls who can pass for 14.
As I promised myself I would yesterday, I made myself some Sturdiwheat pancakes this morning.
When I sat down to eat them and took my first bite I said, “Man, these are good.”
After all, it had been a while since I’d had them, so it could have been that my memories of the flavor were enhanced by nostalgia (Like MSG, most Chinese restaurants will omit nostalgia upon request).
Of course, while enjoying my pancakes I had to open up the windows to air the place out.
While cooking, various bits of sauce and grease and whatnot have splashed onto the burners, but I thought that I’d cleaned them off well enough. Turns out a bunch of gunk had collected under the burner, and so all of that was burning and filling the place with smoke while I was cooking.
Just one more reason that I miss having a gas stove.
While I was out I also picked up a set of cheap speakers for Munin (my secondary, or “kitchen” computer), so I can get back to watching DVDs while I’m cooking.
On that note, I’ll round out this post with a couple more images of the condo, which should more or less complete the photo tour.
The island cart that nearly drove me over the edge. It should come as a surprise to no one that the principle use to which I put it involves a computer.
My little dining area, which almost never gets used as I eat most of my meals at the comptuer or at the coffee table while watching TV. I definitely need to get some more stuff up on the walls. The picture that is up is a sketch called “Abundance” by Sandro Botticelli.
I have a specific example in mind.
Today, having been prepared for a trek in to work for a training that got canceled, I felt restless enough to venture into the old neck of the woods and stop at the non-ghetto (relatively, at least) Wal-Mart to pick up some things such as bulk quantities of toiletries.
While I was there I also grabbed one of those countertop upright paper towel holders.
Ordinarily these kinds of things are relatively simple to put together: screw this into that, put the roll of paper towel on, done.
I would be lying if I said that the assembly of this particular one was any more complex – in theory – than that, yet in practice it proved to be much more challenging than it really ought to have.
For one thing, the screws just didn’t want to go in easily, necessitating that I break out my cordless screwdriver.
After assembling the basic structure I ran into a problem with the bar that goes through the paper towel roll. Basically, you have to put the paper towel in place, slide the bar through the top, try to match up the screw on the end of the bar with the hole at the bottom, then screw on a cap to hold the bar in place.
(And yes, I do realize how many times I’ve said the word “screw.” It’s going to happen even more.)
This is easier than it sounds, as the bottom end of the bar doesn’t match up with the hole very easily, and even when it does you can’t actually get the bar securely in place.
I took it apart to see if there was a way to rectify this, and inadvertently (and unknowingly) twisted the cap off of its screw and left it in the other end of the bar.
I was trying to see if I could get the bar to screw into the bottom piece more securely without the paper towel roll in place as sort of a practice run. What I didn’t realize was that I’d put the wrong end in, placing the different-sized screw from the top cap into the bottom hole. When I tried to take it apart again the bar came off but left the screw in place. This necessitated getting pliers to take the screw out (which did not have a head, as it was designed to screw into things on both sides).
After all this I was going to just put it together the way it had been before, but I noted that you can actually mount the thing to the wall. I decided that I would do that in order to save counter space. As I was putting the thing back together I dropped one of the screws.
The screw bounced, then rolled into the space between the dishwasher and the sink and managed, like a heat-seeking missile, to wedge itself in the small crack between the end of the hardwood floor and the edge of the sink cabinet, like so:
Attempts to get the screw out led to it rolling under the dishwasher where it will likely be entombed for all time (or until I get a new dishwasher).
Of course, as it requires two screws to mount the thing to the wall, I now have no choice but to leave it on the counter, as I am one screw short, which would seem to be the story of my life.
Now, it just seems statistically unlikely that when I dropped the screw it would seek out that crack as if it knew the best possible way to, well, screw me.
On a more positive note, while I was out I stopped at Best Buy and decided to just get it over with and buy volumes three and four of Batman: The Animated Series and volume two of Superman: The Animated Series.
That gives me the complete Batman series on DVD, and I think that covers the Superman series (which didn’t run as long as Batman) as well, but I’m not 100% sure on that.
Next month they’ll finally begin releasing complete sets of Batman: Beyond (they’d previously only released individual episodes) on DVD, so I’ll likely be picking that up at some point.
Speaking of DVDs, last night I watched Mirrormask. It was just as good the second time around as it was the first.
This time around I had the added benefit of knowing that Stephanie Leonidas was at least 19 or 20 when the movie was being filmed, so I didn’t have to feel like a total pervert for thinking about how cute she is and how I’d like to do naughty things to her.
So that actually enhanced the viewing experience a little, as it’s always good to know that you’re not lusting after underage teenage girls.
Turns out I'm not attracted to 14 year old girls...just 20 year old girls who can pass for 14.
As I promised myself I would yesterday, I made myself some Sturdiwheat pancakes this morning.
When I sat down to eat them and took my first bite I said, “Man, these are good.”
After all, it had been a while since I’d had them, so it could have been that my memories of the flavor were enhanced by nostalgia (Like MSG, most Chinese restaurants will omit nostalgia upon request).
Of course, while enjoying my pancakes I had to open up the windows to air the place out.
While cooking, various bits of sauce and grease and whatnot have splashed onto the burners, but I thought that I’d cleaned them off well enough. Turns out a bunch of gunk had collected under the burner, and so all of that was burning and filling the place with smoke while I was cooking.
Just one more reason that I miss having a gas stove.
While I was out I also picked up a set of cheap speakers for Munin (my secondary, or “kitchen” computer), so I can get back to watching DVDs while I’m cooking.
On that note, I’ll round out this post with a couple more images of the condo, which should more or less complete the photo tour.
The island cart that nearly drove me over the edge. It should come as a surprise to no one that the principle use to which I put it involves a computer.
My little dining area, which almost never gets used as I eat most of my meals at the comptuer or at the coffee table while watching TV. I definitely need to get some more stuff up on the walls. The picture that is up is a sketch called “Abundance” by Sandro Botticelli.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Et Tu, Crazy Hot Italian Chick?
Call in a HazMat team because love is in the air, and despite the fact that I’m wearing a gas mask (A figurative one, as I’m not quite so far gone that I’d spend the day wandering around my condo wearing an actual gas mask) to fight the effects, it’s still unavoidable.
For example, I just watched Everyday Italian, which was infected with the romance pathogen, as Giada prepared a special romantic dinner for herself and her husband.
I still watched the show anyway, if for no other reason than that she made cupcakes, which made it possible for things like the following to happen:
Giada: I’ve got to check on my cupcakes.
Me: I’ll check on your cupcakes.
Giada: Look at how perfect my cupcakes are!
Me: Trust me, I’m looking.
Giada: Later, I’ll slather the raspberry frosting all over my cupcakes.
Me: I’ll slather raspberry frosting all over your cupcakes.
Of course, the whole romance thing was counteracted by seeing her husband in the kitchen with her (yesterday she had her Crazy Hot Italian Mom in the kitchen with her, which was better, as she was kind of a MILF), which gave me someone to focus my hatred on.
What was most interesting about the whole show, though, was that when she ate one of her cupcakes she made what sounded unmistakably like a sex noise.
Then she took another bite and did it again.
*Sigh*
I wonder what it’s like to be Mr. Crazy Hot Italian Chick, spending your life torn between conflicting emotions as you’re turned on by her hotness, yet terrified by her craziness.
In any case, he’s a very lucky guy, given that she’s successful and beautiful, and, despite the fact that she often appears psychotic, he’s still alive.
In any case, I just thought I should mention this Crazy Hot Italian Romantic Dinner.
For example, I just watched Everyday Italian, which was infected with the romance pathogen, as Giada prepared a special romantic dinner for herself and her husband.
I still watched the show anyway, if for no other reason than that she made cupcakes, which made it possible for things like the following to happen:
Giada: I’ve got to check on my cupcakes.
Me: I’ll check on your cupcakes.
Giada: Look at how perfect my cupcakes are!
Me: Trust me, I’m looking.
Giada: Later, I’ll slather the raspberry frosting all over my cupcakes.
Me: I’ll slather raspberry frosting all over your cupcakes.
Of course, the whole romance thing was counteracted by seeing her husband in the kitchen with her (yesterday she had her Crazy Hot Italian Mom in the kitchen with her, which was better, as she was kind of a MILF), which gave me someone to focus my hatred on.
What was most interesting about the whole show, though, was that when she ate one of her cupcakes she made what sounded unmistakably like a sex noise.
Then she took another bite and did it again.
*Sigh*
I wonder what it’s like to be Mr. Crazy Hot Italian Chick, spending your life torn between conflicting emotions as you’re turned on by her hotness, yet terrified by her craziness.
In any case, he’s a very lucky guy, given that she’s successful and beautiful, and, despite the fact that she often appears psychotic, he’s still alive.
In any case, I just thought I should mention this Crazy Hot Italian Romantic Dinner.
Show Her You Really Care By Giving The Gift Of A Beheading
Today I opted to put a few more products in my Zazzle gallery.
It’s difficult to find pictures that I want to put up for sale (not that they sell anyway) because most of my best work is of the celebrity portrait variety and there are all sorts of questions about the legality of me selling images I’ve created of famous people, particularly when I’ve used someone else’s photograph as reference material.
I’ve actually gone ahead and posted some in the past, figuring that I’d get a “cease and desist” e-mail if anything, only to discover that, without telling me, Zazzle simply pulled them down.
In any case, click on the Zazzle link over on the lower right – which has been updated to take you directly to my gallery – or just click here if you want to see what’s new.
(Don’t tell anyone, but one of the new images is a celebrity portrait, but I think it’s sufficiently different so as to be legally “original.” If not, I guess it’ll just disappear.)
I woke up before 8 again today but refused to get up and managed to squeeze in another 40 minutes worth of sleep.
I didn’t do much of anything until around lunch time, at which point I made a quick trip to Super Target to pick up the Mirrormask DVD.
At first I didn’t think they had the DVD, as it wasn’t with the new releases, but as I was about to give up and head to Best Buy I saw that they had another rack of new releases which included the DVD in question, so I grabbed it.
After accomplishing that mission I headed over to the grocery section to try to track down a package of pork gravy mix for tonight’s dinner. While I was going down the aisles I noticed that they actually sell Sturdiwheat pancake mix.
Sturdiwheat is a just-add-water pancake mix that makes excellent pancakes. It’s actually made in Red Wing, Minnesota, where I used to live. I hadn’t realized that it was sold in this area, so I was surprised – and pleased – to see it. It was a pleasant surprise as I was just telling my mom that I wished they sold Sturdiwheat around here a couple of weeks ago.
I don’t make pancakes very often, but now that I’ve picked up some Sturdiwheat I’m sure that will change (I can pretty much guarantee that I’ll be making some tomorrow morning).
In addition to creating some new products at Zazzle I actually ordered a few prints of some of my pictures, including one that I didn’t post to my gallery because it’s one of those images that could cause a copyright issue (it’s one of the pics I did of Rachael Leigh Cook as Death) if I sold it, but just having it printed for myself isn’t a problem.
And that’s pretty much been my day. At some point I’ll watch Mirrormask, and hopefully I’ll be able to force myself to get back to work on a new picture I started yesterday (yet another one that, alas, I wouldn’t be able to put up for sale).
Once the day is over I at least now that it’ll be quite some time before I’m constantly inundated with ads claiming that “Every kiss begins with Kay,” even though that would actually make the word “Kayiss.”
Speaking of which, here’s a rejected script for the “Aunt Amy” Kay Valentine’s Day ad:
Annoyingly Cute Kid: Aunt Amy, Brian likes you!
Aunt Amy (who looks sort of like Joey Lauren Adams, but not really): Who told you that?
ACK: Brian did.
Aunt Amy (showing off ring or necklace, depending on which one she’s shilling): He told me, too.
(Voice over talks up the ring/necklace, and we return)
Aunt Amy: Want to know another secret? I’ve been cheating on Brian with his best friend Dave, and he gave me a much nicer pair of diamond earrings from Jared. Also, I gave Brian’s brother Tom a hummer and he bought me a tennis bracelet from Zales. And wait until you see the brooch from Tiffany’s that your dad will give me if he knows what’s good for him and wants me to keep quiet about how we went at it the night before he married my sister.
Rejected script number two:
ACK: Aunt Amy, Brian likes you!
(Brian whacks the kid upside the head)
Brian: I told you that in confidence you little brat!
The one thing that puzzles me most about Valentine’s Day is why we give out cards and gifts when beheadings would be much more appropriate, given that that’s the method by which St. Valentine is commonly thought to have been martyred. Just a thought…
It’s difficult to find pictures that I want to put up for sale (not that they sell anyway) because most of my best work is of the celebrity portrait variety and there are all sorts of questions about the legality of me selling images I’ve created of famous people, particularly when I’ve used someone else’s photograph as reference material.
I’ve actually gone ahead and posted some in the past, figuring that I’d get a “cease and desist” e-mail if anything, only to discover that, without telling me, Zazzle simply pulled them down.
In any case, click on the Zazzle link over on the lower right – which has been updated to take you directly to my gallery – or just click here if you want to see what’s new.
(Don’t tell anyone, but one of the new images is a celebrity portrait, but I think it’s sufficiently different so as to be legally “original.” If not, I guess it’ll just disappear.)
I woke up before 8 again today but refused to get up and managed to squeeze in another 40 minutes worth of sleep.
I didn’t do much of anything until around lunch time, at which point I made a quick trip to Super Target to pick up the Mirrormask DVD.
At first I didn’t think they had the DVD, as it wasn’t with the new releases, but as I was about to give up and head to Best Buy I saw that they had another rack of new releases which included the DVD in question, so I grabbed it.
After accomplishing that mission I headed over to the grocery section to try to track down a package of pork gravy mix for tonight’s dinner. While I was going down the aisles I noticed that they actually sell Sturdiwheat pancake mix.
Sturdiwheat is a just-add-water pancake mix that makes excellent pancakes. It’s actually made in Red Wing, Minnesota, where I used to live. I hadn’t realized that it was sold in this area, so I was surprised – and pleased – to see it. It was a pleasant surprise as I was just telling my mom that I wished they sold Sturdiwheat around here a couple of weeks ago.
I don’t make pancakes very often, but now that I’ve picked up some Sturdiwheat I’m sure that will change (I can pretty much guarantee that I’ll be making some tomorrow morning).
In addition to creating some new products at Zazzle I actually ordered a few prints of some of my pictures, including one that I didn’t post to my gallery because it’s one of those images that could cause a copyright issue (it’s one of the pics I did of Rachael Leigh Cook as Death) if I sold it, but just having it printed for myself isn’t a problem.
And that’s pretty much been my day. At some point I’ll watch Mirrormask, and hopefully I’ll be able to force myself to get back to work on a new picture I started yesterday (yet another one that, alas, I wouldn’t be able to put up for sale).
Once the day is over I at least now that it’ll be quite some time before I’m constantly inundated with ads claiming that “Every kiss begins with Kay,” even though that would actually make the word “Kayiss.”
Speaking of which, here’s a rejected script for the “Aunt Amy” Kay Valentine’s Day ad:
Annoyingly Cute Kid: Aunt Amy, Brian likes you!
Aunt Amy (who looks sort of like Joey Lauren Adams, but not really): Who told you that?
ACK: Brian did.
Aunt Amy (showing off ring or necklace, depending on which one she’s shilling): He told me, too.
(Voice over talks up the ring/necklace, and we return)
Aunt Amy: Want to know another secret? I’ve been cheating on Brian with his best friend Dave, and he gave me a much nicer pair of diamond earrings from Jared. Also, I gave Brian’s brother Tom a hummer and he bought me a tennis bracelet from Zales. And wait until you see the brooch from Tiffany’s that your dad will give me if he knows what’s good for him and wants me to keep quiet about how we went at it the night before he married my sister.
Rejected script number two:
ACK: Aunt Amy, Brian likes you!
(Brian whacks the kid upside the head)
Brian: I told you that in confidence you little brat!
The one thing that puzzles me most about Valentine’s Day is why we give out cards and gifts when beheadings would be much more appropriate, given that that’s the method by which St. Valentine is commonly thought to have been martyred. Just a thought…
Monday, February 13, 2006
Sad AND Pathetic? Wow, He's The Total Package!
So I’ve determined that the incredibly needy dog is in the unit above me.
I’ve done this based on the fact that the person above me seems to get home a bit before 8, at which point, in engaging in the usual activities people engage in after getting home from being gone all day, I can hear the desperately attention-starved dog rampaging around following obsessively on its owner’s heels.
I would go insane if I had to put up with that kind of dependency, and I will never understand why people do it to themselves.
Of course, knowing where the damn thing is doesn’t do me any good. I mean, I could complain, but what would come of it? The dog barks during the day because it’s lonely, and it’s unlikely that anything can be done to cure it of its morbid dependence on its owner.
Oh well.
My day began earlier than I actually wanted it to as I found myself wide awake a bit before 8 am. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got up.
I sat around idly surfing the Web for a while, then downloaded and watched a couple of episodes of Justice League Unlimited, which apparently have been airing on Cartoon Network in the UK for weeks before they started airing new episodes in the US.
After talking to my mom I ventured out into the world, where, despite the fact that it had stopped snowing yesterday morning and all of the major roads were clear and dry yesterday afternoon, schools were closed and a good percentage of the population did not go in to work.
As it was close to lunch time and all I’d had for the morning was a protein shake and an apple, I decided that I should stop somewhere to eat so that I wouldn’t be grocery shopping on an empty stomach.
I didn’t really know where I was going to eat; I just sort of drove around the shopping plaza looking for something that appealed to me.
Once I’d parked, I just started walking and saw that there were two choices ahead of me, a Chinese place and a pizza place. Up until I put my hand on the door to the pizza place I really hadn’t been sure which I was going to choose.
While I’d been walking I’d been aware of this couple behind me, laughing and flirting and, even though they were behind me, just generally rubbing my face in their togetherness.
“Oh, we’re young and in love and it’s the day before Valentine’s Day and isn’t it so wonderful that we have each other?”
To make matters worse, they followed me into the pizza place and came and sat in the booth next to me, so I got to hear they’re cloyingly sweet conversations throughout my meal, which made it considerably less palatable.
I’d had to choose to sit in a booth as there was no other place that would allow me to have some amount of inconspicuousness in this place where I was the only person who was there alone.
Admittedly not everyone in there was a couple, but everyone else was at least paired up.
After I ate I did my grocery shopping, came home, took care of a couple of bills, got my mail, and that was pretty much my day.
Driving in to work yesterday morning I spotted a vehicle that had gone off the road. I remained baffled as to just how it happened. I mean, it was on a straight stretch with no major turns, there wasn’t much traffic, and the road was plowed reasonably well, so I just couldn’t see any way for this to have happened without some major effort being put into it, as this person was way off the road. At a glance, it looked like the tracks went straight in, too, so it seems to me that this person just deliberately drove straight off the road.
That’s one thing I’ll give this area as far as dangerous traveling conditions: there are no snow banks, so going off the road can be much more dangerous and bothersome.
Despite being a hateful holiday designed to remind people like me that we suck, tomorrow does have some redeeming value in the form of being the day that Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean’s movie Mirrormask is being released on DVD.
I can’t really recommend that everyone go out and buy it (But hey, everyone: go out and buy it), as it’s not a movie for everyone, but I would say that if you enjoyed Labyrinth or The Dark Crystal, or if you are somehow a fan of Sandman or pretty much any of Gaiman’s other work who hasn’t seen the movie, or at the very least isn’t already planning to pick up the DVD, I’d say check it out.
On the topic of movies that are at least peripherally related to comics, the other day I saw somewhere that Spider-Man 3 will be released in theaters in May of 2007.
It occurred to me that by that time I will be 35 years old, and I realized that I will be a 35 year old who will be excited about going to see a movie about a guy who got bit by a spider and gained spider-like abilities and wears a silly costume while he swings around and fights people who are even more ridiculous than he is, and that this will likely be the highlight of my summer, if not my entire year, and for a moment I was keenly aware of just how sad and pathetic that really is.
And then I thought, “But at least I don’t own an ant farm.”
I’m kidding, of course. I realize that despite the fact that I don’t have an ant farm (but do have a working immune system), I’m a much, much bigger nerd than Brian could ever be (even if he did go to Space Camp).
So don’t get your firefighter Underoos in a knot, ant boy: I acknowledge my higher level of poindexterism.
Happy?
Of course, none of this actually dampened my enthusiasm for seeing the movie, which I suppose is also rather sad and pathetic.
Bitter, nerdy, boring, and unrepentantly sad and pathetic: how come I can’t get a date?
I’ve done this based on the fact that the person above me seems to get home a bit before 8, at which point, in engaging in the usual activities people engage in after getting home from being gone all day, I can hear the desperately attention-starved dog rampaging around following obsessively on its owner’s heels.
I would go insane if I had to put up with that kind of dependency, and I will never understand why people do it to themselves.
Of course, knowing where the damn thing is doesn’t do me any good. I mean, I could complain, but what would come of it? The dog barks during the day because it’s lonely, and it’s unlikely that anything can be done to cure it of its morbid dependence on its owner.
Oh well.
My day began earlier than I actually wanted it to as I found myself wide awake a bit before 8 am. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got up.
I sat around idly surfing the Web for a while, then downloaded and watched a couple of episodes of Justice League Unlimited, which apparently have been airing on Cartoon Network in the UK for weeks before they started airing new episodes in the US.
After talking to my mom I ventured out into the world, where, despite the fact that it had stopped snowing yesterday morning and all of the major roads were clear and dry yesterday afternoon, schools were closed and a good percentage of the population did not go in to work.
As it was close to lunch time and all I’d had for the morning was a protein shake and an apple, I decided that I should stop somewhere to eat so that I wouldn’t be grocery shopping on an empty stomach.
I didn’t really know where I was going to eat; I just sort of drove around the shopping plaza looking for something that appealed to me.
Once I’d parked, I just started walking and saw that there were two choices ahead of me, a Chinese place and a pizza place. Up until I put my hand on the door to the pizza place I really hadn’t been sure which I was going to choose.
While I’d been walking I’d been aware of this couple behind me, laughing and flirting and, even though they were behind me, just generally rubbing my face in their togetherness.
“Oh, we’re young and in love and it’s the day before Valentine’s Day and isn’t it so wonderful that we have each other?”
To make matters worse, they followed me into the pizza place and came and sat in the booth next to me, so I got to hear they’re cloyingly sweet conversations throughout my meal, which made it considerably less palatable.
I’d had to choose to sit in a booth as there was no other place that would allow me to have some amount of inconspicuousness in this place where I was the only person who was there alone.
Admittedly not everyone in there was a couple, but everyone else was at least paired up.
After I ate I did my grocery shopping, came home, took care of a couple of bills, got my mail, and that was pretty much my day.
Driving in to work yesterday morning I spotted a vehicle that had gone off the road. I remained baffled as to just how it happened. I mean, it was on a straight stretch with no major turns, there wasn’t much traffic, and the road was plowed reasonably well, so I just couldn’t see any way for this to have happened without some major effort being put into it, as this person was way off the road. At a glance, it looked like the tracks went straight in, too, so it seems to me that this person just deliberately drove straight off the road.
That’s one thing I’ll give this area as far as dangerous traveling conditions: there are no snow banks, so going off the road can be much more dangerous and bothersome.
Despite being a hateful holiday designed to remind people like me that we suck, tomorrow does have some redeeming value in the form of being the day that Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean’s movie Mirrormask is being released on DVD.
I can’t really recommend that everyone go out and buy it (But hey, everyone: go out and buy it), as it’s not a movie for everyone, but I would say that if you enjoyed Labyrinth or The Dark Crystal, or if you are somehow a fan of Sandman or pretty much any of Gaiman’s other work who hasn’t seen the movie, or at the very least isn’t already planning to pick up the DVD, I’d say check it out.
On the topic of movies that are at least peripherally related to comics, the other day I saw somewhere that Spider-Man 3 will be released in theaters in May of 2007.
It occurred to me that by that time I will be 35 years old, and I realized that I will be a 35 year old who will be excited about going to see a movie about a guy who got bit by a spider and gained spider-like abilities and wears a silly costume while he swings around and fights people who are even more ridiculous than he is, and that this will likely be the highlight of my summer, if not my entire year, and for a moment I was keenly aware of just how sad and pathetic that really is.
And then I thought, “But at least I don’t own an ant farm.”
I’m kidding, of course. I realize that despite the fact that I don’t have an ant farm (but do have a working immune system), I’m a much, much bigger nerd than Brian could ever be (even if he did go to Space Camp).
So don’t get your firefighter Underoos in a knot, ant boy: I acknowledge my higher level of poindexterism.
Happy?
Of course, none of this actually dampened my enthusiasm for seeing the movie, which I suppose is also rather sad and pathetic.
Bitter, nerdy, boring, and unrepentantly sad and pathetic: how come I can’t get a date?
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Some Perspective
If you ever wonder why I'm so scornful of how the population of Northern Virginia turns into panic-stricken old ladies whenever a flake of snow is spotted, I'll give you some perspective.
This site shows you what it looks like right now (roughly) where I grew up.
Keep in mind that it's been an unusually mild winter there.
This site shows you what it looks like right now (roughly) where I grew up.
Keep in mind that it's been an unusually mild winter there.
Insert Generic Lewd Comment About Hot, Flexible Figure Skater Here
Since I have zero interest in sports, it should come as no surprise that I have zero interest in watching the Winter Olympics.
Well, practically zero interest, as figure skater Sasha Cohen could probably manage to get me to tune it.
Why? Well, she's tiny and cute, and as the following excerpt from this article indicates, she's extremely flexible.
Yow. Plus she can leg-press 400 lbs, which, perhaps strangely enough, is actually a turn-on.
In any case, that's my kind of woman, though, not surprisingly, I'm not her kind of man, as she's looking for someone who's tall. And while there are many things I may be, tall will never be one of them.
Oh well.
Still, cute as she is, it's probably not enough to get me to sit through the rest of the Olympic Snore-fest just to see her.
Speaking of winter, it arrived here in NoVA with a surprising amount of vengeance. It was still mild compared to the kind of winter storms I grew up with, but it deposited a fair amount of the white stuff before it finally died down.
My biggest concern was getting out of my unplowed parking lot this morning, but the snow was of the light and fluffy variety, so it proved to be pretty easy to make my way through.
The poorly-plowed roads weren't too difficult to navigate, though I did end up stuck for a considerable period of time behind two plows and a line of cars before finally saying "Screw this" and carefully edging my way past them.
Once I did that my drive was relatively uneventful thanks to the fact that there were very few retards out on the road.
I did encounter one near the end of my commute, though, who decided that afer crawling part of the way up at 10 miles an hour it was a good idea to come to a complete stop on a snow-covered incline.
I managed to avoid a collision and made my way around him, though I can't say much for his chances of getting his car moving again after stopping there (and there was no apparent reason for the stop in the first place).
Brian, aka Sicky McSickerson, also made his way in today, though he didn't do so totally unscathed; some jackass forced him into the guard rail somewhere along the line.
Scott, however, didn't manage to fly back from Utah before all flights were canceled.
So far the day has been pretty uneventful, though, and the snow has stopped and is already melting.
Well, practically zero interest, as figure skater Sasha Cohen could probably manage to get me to tune it.
Why? Well, she's tiny and cute, and as the following excerpt from this article indicates, she's extremely flexible.
DON'T PLAY TWISTER WITH HER: "She can do unbelievable
contortions with her body," says her teammate, men's world bronze medalist Evan
Lysacek. "I've seen her twist her legs around her head. She's the most flexible
person I've ever seen."
Yow. Plus she can leg-press 400 lbs, which, perhaps strangely enough, is actually a turn-on.
In any case, that's my kind of woman, though, not surprisingly, I'm not her kind of man, as she's looking for someone who's tall. And while there are many things I may be, tall will never be one of them.
Oh well.
Still, cute as she is, it's probably not enough to get me to sit through the rest of the Olympic Snore-fest just to see her.
Speaking of winter, it arrived here in NoVA with a surprising amount of vengeance. It was still mild compared to the kind of winter storms I grew up with, but it deposited a fair amount of the white stuff before it finally died down.
My biggest concern was getting out of my unplowed parking lot this morning, but the snow was of the light and fluffy variety, so it proved to be pretty easy to make my way through.
The poorly-plowed roads weren't too difficult to navigate, though I did end up stuck for a considerable period of time behind two plows and a line of cars before finally saying "Screw this" and carefully edging my way past them.
Once I did that my drive was relatively uneventful thanks to the fact that there were very few retards out on the road.
I did encounter one near the end of my commute, though, who decided that afer crawling part of the way up at 10 miles an hour it was a good idea to come to a complete stop on a snow-covered incline.
I managed to avoid a collision and made my way around him, though I can't say much for his chances of getting his car moving again after stopping there (and there was no apparent reason for the stop in the first place).
Brian, aka Sicky McSickerson, also made his way in today, though he didn't do so totally unscathed; some jackass forced him into the guard rail somewhere along the line.
Scott, however, didn't manage to fly back from Utah before all flights were canceled.
So far the day has been pretty uneventful, though, and the snow has stopped and is already melting.
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