NFL football season-end grab-bag 2006

Ah, Friday. Another long weekend upon us. Yesterday, I again ran at altitude, but this time, it was colder, and I ran through several inches of snow. Proving once again that running at altitude sucks.

I got into a store today that had a whole wall of "tobacco" products. Pipes, bongs, grinders, cases, etc. For those out there who do smoke the wacky tabacky, it's wonderful that these places exist for you. My only vice is alcohol. I've been known to enjoy my share of beer. I leave hard alcohol, wine, and shots alone for the most part, and don't engage in smoking of any kind. Or any hard drugs. But that's just background.

Anyway, I was in the store, and I just had to laugh at the disclaimers they're forced to use to be able to sell these items. One sign makes it known that the items are for "tobacco use only", and that using or discussing other uses is prohibited. Several other signs point out that it is illegal for anyone under the age of 18 to purchase items that are used for the purpose of smoking tobacco products. I know what these things are used for, they know what they're used for, and government, including law enforcement, knows what they're used for. To play the game seems a litte silly to me.

In other news, I get to watch the NFLN game tomorrow night, to make my second NFLN game. I'm happy I get to watch pro football, but I'm not really wearing a huge happy hat to get to listen to Bryant Gumbel do another game. Well, that, and, even though the Giants are in a win-and-you're-in kind of playoff scenario, they just haven't been playing very well at all, and the prospect of playing against Washington just doesn't have my needle very high for this one. On the flip side, the game has playoff implications for the Packers, and I'll be in a Packer bar to watch it, so it should be mighty interesting. The bar has several things that are fairly unique to Wisconsin, such as Old Style and Pabst Blue Ribbon on tap, and breaded, fried cheese curds on the menu. If you've never had cheese curds, or don't even know what they are, let me suggest trying them. It's very apparent to me that people in Wisconsin know their cheese.

I got to watch part of "Cars", the movie. It seems pretty entertaining, at least the parts I've seen. It's wonderful that the movie studios can produce a movie that kids love, and parents don't hate. Some of the jokes are over childrens' heads, but they don't care. And for the parents who have to watch these movies with their kids (sometimes over and over and over and over again), it's refreshing to have some real humor to laugh at instead of just "cutesie" kids movies or "learning" videos.

Me, for New Year's Eve, I get to drive "home" from the football game I'm going to attend, and then watch the last football game of the regular season (Packers at Bears, which MAY have win-and-in playoff implications for the Packers, and we'll know for sure prior to kickoff), and maybe some light drinking of beers. Or drinking of light beers. I have to get on a plane early the next morning to get back to my home state to drink heavily, so I can't go too hogwild.

Football fantasies to all y'all.

LOOK, KEO

Wow, totally spaced yesterday. Suddenly at the end of the day, I realized that I had to stop working and get out, pick up some beer for later, and then go for a run. Blog? No. Run, yes. At altitude. Suck.

So, since the last installment, we've only done, what, Christmas? I got a book, some music CDs, the latest installment of Seinfeld on DVD, and a few other miscellaneous items. And no exercise. Man, was I a sloth. I haven't been very good at exercising lately. At the end of August, I did a big triathlon, and then went out hiking in Yellowstone and Glacier. Since then, I did a short triathlon and a half marathon the next month, and just about nothing since. I did go on one long bike ride in November when the weather was still nice, and some mountain biking in October, but for the most part, I've been on a big slide since late August. It's time to get back to it, and this Christmas season was obviously not the start of the next big thing.

I did get to rotate my tires over the long weekend. That was good. Then, I wasn't able to get the pedals off of my road bike because I didn't have the right size hex key for them. That was not good. When I got out here, I had the perfect opportunity to go for a nice bike ride (warm, clean roads), but without my pedals, there wasn't really a chance, as my buddy has LOOK pedals and I have KEO cleats. Oh well, we did go for a run yesterday, and maybe another one today. No more bike possibilities, though, as it got much colder and began to snow.

I got to listen to a bunch of "Ethel" on XM radio over the past few days. It's not quite my choice in music, but some of it's pretty good. The rest I can leave. For the most part, I don't figure I'll ever get satellite radio. My taste in music does not require that I listen to anything besides regular radio. For long road trips, the comedy channels might be nice, but then again, so is my CD selection.

Does anyone care about most of the college football games? Heck, the BCS iced out one of the top 10 teams by virtue of their rule preventing more than two teams from any one conference from getting BCS bowl bids (Wisconsin, by way of Michigan and Ohio State in the Big 10 -- which is currently at 11 teams, btw).

So I get to go to one of the professional football games this weekend that has playoff implications. I've only been to two regular season games before, so it should be a blast, especially since I'll be in one of the luxury boxes. It's for a team/game I don't really care about one way or the other, but it's still professional football.

Anyway, this post had zero for substance, and I know it. But life's not all fun and games. Actually, sometimes it's no fun and games at all. Kind of like Colorado lately, getting mauled with snow three times in two weeks. And it's not even snow season there. Wild.

Drive slow.

NFLN Grab Bag

As a follow-up to yesterday's post about vending machines and gravity, let me just say that I have nothing more to add right now. Actually, I shouldn't even be writing right now, since I don't really have a good lead on where I'm going, and I have no exit strategy. But I know the soonest I'll be able to post again will probably be Wednesday, so I just felt like I had to. Nothing like imposing great expectations upon one's self.

So, here goes. Off the top of my head, I can say that Bryant Gumbel is not a good football announcer. I watched my first NFL Network game last night, and it was a snoozer. Gumbel does nothing to help a bad game. At least Al Michaels will find a way to work in a comment about the point spread. And if he doesn't, John Madden will mumble and stumble trying to talk about butt sweat or a turducken or something. Joe Thiesman will talk about QB mechanics or something, although this year, with Mike Tirico at the helm, Thies' doesn't have to come up with filler anymore. But Gumbel just isn't "it", or doesn't "have it".

I had some of the Miller Chocolate beer the other night, and I was pleasantly surprised. I figured there was no way that I would like the beer, since I'm not really a sweets guy, and don't really enjoy just eating a Hershey bar. Not only that, but I also AM a beer guy, so anything that interferes with beer is usually a bad thing to me. But I decided to try it, and, as I said, I was pleasantly surprised. It's not an overpowering chocolate taste, but it definitely conveys a "milk" chocolate flavor. This is in contrast to Young's Double Chocolate, which conveys a "dark" chocolate flavor. In any case, if you like to experiment with beer a little bit, I'd suggest giving Miller Chocolate a try if given the chance. It's still a dark, rich beer, though, so I was one-and-done, opting for something lighter to follow it up.

It's now raining fairly hard, and the ceiling isn't finished off above me, so it's really loud, almost drowning out the Christmas music. But it makes me realize that the only thing worse than loud Christmas music for the twentieth day in a row is barely-audible Christmas music over the sound of rain. I'd rather just be hearing the whole songs clearly than hearing them cutting in-and-out by virtue of the rain drowning them out.

When I own a company, I'm going to switch music at the holidays as well, but mine will be different. I'm going to play Pantera starting November 16 and lasting to the new year, just to be different. And I'm not going to hire my buddy to run my company, either, since he's told me numerous times that his profession goal is to "run a company into the ground, and run away with millions."

But, alas, I have to wrap it up for today. If you haven't seen the "Dick in a Box" skit/short from SNL last weekend yet, I suggest trying to find it (hopefully the unedited version) on YouTube sooner rather than later. It's a damn hoot. Might even beat Lazy Sunday, which was an older SNL skit/short. I'll likely be back later in the week next week, but no promises.

Don't drink too much eggnog!

Dollar Christmas Bullet

Christmas. So. Close. Yep, it's that time of year. The time when people start slacking at work/school. The time when you only hear Christmas music on the radio. The time when the whole state of Colorado closes for a day. Wait, that's got nothing to do with Christmas and everything to do with the ridiculously tall mountain range they have running through their state.

It's all over, man. Mary in accounting has five stockings and tinsel and Christmas candy all over her cube. Dex in purchasing comes in this morning with a Santa hat on and bells on his keys. Darryl in IT jiggles like a bowl full of jelly. The company brings in a catered lunch for the whole staff. Everyone sits down and eats and engages in meaningless chit-chat while the contracted magician pulls sponge balls out of his pants. Joy. Yep, it reeks of Christmas.

I thought this year for Christmas, I'd do something a little different. I thought wrong. I barely found time for Christmas cards. I went to the store and just wandered around aimlessly looking for the perfect gifts before walking out with two purchases, both for myself. I tackled a salvation army bell-ringing Santa for looking at me strangely when I tried to shove a gordita wrapper into his money pot. Actually, that last part isn't true. It was a woman dressed up in a gorilla costume who pretended to hurl feces at me.

Bah! I didn't tackle anyone this Christmas season. Lies. All lies. But hey, it sounds better than the truth. The only thing I plan on tackling this holiday is a case of bullet. I love the frost-brew liner and the skinnier-than-normal cans. They make me feel skinnier as I drink tons of their "diet" beer. The only potentially cooler can is the huge Fosters oil can. I forget exactly how much it is, but it's somewhere between 24 and 26 fl. oz. of fun. Heck, last time I tried to shotgun one, it took me three tries. Then again, I made the mistake of doing it cold. That's just too much cold on the throat all at once. Need warm beer. Warm beer also absorbs faster, so it's a quicker drunk. So all you pussies doing jager-bombs are weak tits. Jack, straight-up, room-temperature for a quick blue-ribbon zero-to-barroom-hero effect. That, and then you won't annoy others around you by being all wound-up on Red Bull when you're drooling-on-yourself-and-everyone-around-you drunk. You'll be passed out in the corner faster than you can say, "Dammit Spot, stop licking my face immediately after finishing with your balls."

On a different note, how the hell can vending machines be so different? Some of them gobble up a buck and wait for you to make a selection. Some of them take the dollar and make all kinds of noise even after it's disappeared. Some machines spit out a bottle right away, and some of them have a good five second lag before they spit one out. The last place I worked, they even replaced a vending machine that worked perfectly with another one that basically sucked. It wouldn't tell you when to use exact change, so suddenly it would owe you money, and there was no way to get it back. It also delivered your selection via a little cradle that moved horizontally on a track, which in turn moved vertically on two larger tracks. All this to move a bottle from anywhere in the machine to the right lower corner. Kind of a waste, as the machine it replaced used a little thing we like to call GRAVITY to accomplish the same feat. I wonder what'll fail first, gravity, or the multi-rail system. Probably gravity, as I can't count the number of times I've dropped things that would've otherwise smashed me in the toes, but instead they just stayed motionless in the air.

And you know what? Vending machines are the perfect example of why the U.S. should get rid of the $1 bill in favor of a dollar coin. Really, the only remaining good use for paper money in that small of a denomination is the strip club. I mean, beyond that, $1 bills just suck. Trying to cram them into a vending machine sucks in comparison to dropping in a single coin. And if you've ever woken up after a long night out, you know how tens and twenties in a wallet magically convert themselves into a pocket full of crumpled $1 bills. If you had ten fairly large coins in your pocket instead of ten $1 bills, you'd want to get rid of the damn things right quick. And how often do you get a $1 bill that looks like it was last handled by a person with razor blades for fingers, who used it to clean his/her bicycle chain? No thanks.

Anyway, that's it for me. Before I go, though, the coin thing does remind me of one of my favorite things to say. The next time you're chatting with buddies, and you see a police officer, ask your buddies what pennies are made out of. The answer, of course, is "dirty copper".

Happy holidays to you and yours.

Spaghetti? Not quite.

It has to be a short one today. It just has to be a short one. No, that's not what she said. I'm talking about today's blog. I've written way too much today already. Luckily, I don't really have much to write about today. I was awake way too late last night cleaning, and the motivation to do anything besides sleep right now won't be helped by the lunch I just ate.

I was struck with, well, somewhat of an epiphany this morning. I was on my way to the bathroom, and I was thinking how I could be more productive (not just at work -- I mean as a whole). I use that internet thingy alot, for work, for communication, for fun. I was thinking that it would be great if someday there was a "device" that allowed one to just sit anywhere and type. I was thinking along the lines of a virtual keyboard, where there's just a display of a keyboard projected onto, say, a table, and then as you "type", it tracks your finger movements and knows what you're "typing" (they make these aready). Couple this with, say, a small wireless device that fits in your pocket, as well as some sort of display built into a set of glasses for you to view what you're typing (they make viewable glasses already also). I don't know if I've suitably explained this, but I'm thinking like a zero-footprint device. Something that you'd never have to "take out of a bag". Something that you wouldn't have to "take off" when you're done (like something mounthing to your glasses frame). And essentially, basically being able to type anywhere you wanted, say maybe a plate full of spaghetti. Not only would that be the ultimate in geek, but can you imagine how confused people would be when they just see you touching your spaghetti with all your fingers and thumbs? Quality. I just envision everyone doing it one day, like the time when Costanza sees Morgan(?) eating a candy bar with a knife and fork, and then makes it catch on all over town. Diners full of people typing in their spaghetti. Nice.

I usually solve alot of problems either on the way to or from the bathroom, or when I'm inside the bathroom. My mind just wanders, and something clicks. Maybe I'm also a good designer/architect at the same time. We'll see if a device like this ever catches on. I'm all for handy wireless gadgets. I'm just left to wonder WTF sometimes when I have trouble keeping a cordless phone call in my home, yet I can drive 100 miles and not lose a call on my cell phone.

In any case, this post was far too serious. I need some kind of joke to close this post, like the one about the blind skunk that fell in love with the fart. Dang, I can't think of one.

Ta-ta

Work and the movies

It's just not fun anymore. Work, that is. Sure, coming out of college, it was a huge boon to just get out into the workforce and hold a steady job and have a good salary and not have to worry about homework. Being just out of college, I was also slightly unaware of how many idiots are in employment in the world. But after awhile, it starts to hit, and then just never goes away. It becomes tough taking orders from people who are complete idiots. It becomes more difficult to concentrate on one task for long periods of time (that may be due to many years of drinking, however).

On the other hand, it's nice to make money so that you can afford your toys. I'm a big fan of toys, my motorcycle being my biggest one. Sure, it doubles as a mode of transportation, but the truth of the matter is, that's just a bonus. There's no way to justify the cost of ownership of a motorcycle (at least a new one) as a means of transportation. Tires are expensive. Tuneups are expensive. Oil changes are expensive (even if done yourself, the oil and filters tend to be expensive). Insurance and gas are cheap, but those are about the only things that are. Well, insurance is cheap as long as you don't have a crotch-rocket or some crazy thing with a V-8 or better on it.

Then again, my biggest toy would probably be my personal watercraft. I get much less use out of it than I do my motorcycle, and I have never worked on the lake, so I can't ride it to work. But it costed less. And it sucks to winterize. Like I said, I enjoy my toys (despite the cost or labor associated with having/keeping them).

But back to work. Seriously, who ever voted for a 5-days-on-2-days-off schedule? Not me. I work 8-5 M-F. So do doctors. So does the post office. So do banks. Retail knows where it's at, though. About the only thing I can do conveniently because of work is to go buy shit. Sometimes I just feel like taking the Peter Gibbons (ala Office Space) approach to life. Decide I don't like work, and decide to not go to work. Decide that I don't like bills, and decide to not pay bills, either.

Supposedly, that movie isn't funny to people who haven't work in an office environment. I call false. Part of the beauty of the movie is that one can relate to the office politics and atmosphere that show up in the movie. But part of it is just brute-force in-your-face comedy. Come on, a jump-to-conclusions mat? What does that have to do with an office? Showing someone your "OH" face? Again, no office atmosphere needed for that to be funny.

I contend that all you need to find Office Space funny is an IQ over 40 and a sense of humor. And if you don't agree, I'll argue with you later. I have a meeting with the Bobs in five minutes.

Fuckin' A.

People watching, weekend-style

Back from the weekend, with only one more full week before the long Christmas weekend, after which I'll be headed out of town for a few days (yet I don't have to take vacation, as I'll be working remotely -- sometimes that internet thingy comes in handy).

The weekend was full of promise to get in some good people-watching, and it did not disappoint. Fortunately, there were no unwelcome advances made on me this weekend. Unfortunately, toward the end of the weekend, I was hit with some unwelcome news. But alas, that's not what we're here for. We're here to make me feel good, not the other way around. So, on to the fun people watching ...

Frenchie - The foreign guy who thinks he's still in Europe. Wear a pink shirt and invade people's space at a not-so-crowded bar? This is the U.S.A. dammit. And I'm Gumby, Dammit. Take a step back and pop a breath mint. And wear a man's shirt.

Tits McGee - The woman who, at some point, got a boob job that's so ridiculous for her frame size, and now, at 40+ years old, attempts everything she can to make the rest of her face and body as attractive as her once shiny new pair. I've seen this woman before watching this band. There is entertainment value in just watching her dance. Or bounce. Did I say how ridiculously large her boobs are? And ridiculously fake? Yahtzee.

Pour Me - The bartender who, once upon a time, probably single-handedly brought cowboys in from all around the area. Now, older and wiser (and much less attractive), she still works for tips. Hint: If you're young and pretty and a bartender, keep this in mind: bartending does not seem to lend itself well to advancing on in life. If you're still bartending for a living at 35, you'll probably be bartending for a living at 55 (and in the meantime, you'll have lost your looks).

Ron Mexico - The guy at the professional sporting event (it was NOT a football game, and it was NOT anywhere near Atlanta) wearing the Michael Vick jersey and a bunch of "ghetto-wear". Seriously, if you didn't know Ron Mexico was Michael Vick's STD-testing name, you'd take one look at this guy and think it could be HIS STD-testing name. I didn't want to get within ten feet of the guy. I felt dirty even being in the same building.

Ridin' Dirty - The woman who's just old enough to be a 20-year-old's mother, just hot enough to entice a 20-year-old to have sex with her (all night long), and just dirty enough to give a 20-year-old the Clap. Apparently, this woman was making weird faces at me from the other side of the bar at one point in the night when I wasn't looking, as my friend later pointed out. Then later, five very young guys walked in, and she was hitting on them all. Oh yeah, she appeared to be there by herself, also. I didn't see where she went later, either. Maybe she ended up ridin' one of those young guys dirty all night.

Well, that's the most interesting of the bunch. I definitely did not fill my quota for the weekend, but there were plenty to feed the hunger. And it definitely is more fun when you're not actually inconvenienced by "interesting" people -- when you can just sit back and take it all in.

Behave yourselves

Friday = Fried-day

So have you ever had one of those days where you seemingly come across an interesting story about every five minutes, and just can't wait to tell people all the interesting things that happened? This is SO not one of those days. I'm done with work for the day, and I have nothing even remotely interested on the brain.

About the only thing I can think of that I talked about besides work today was the new Rocky movie. I'm not really a movie-goer, but this is definitely one I'm not going to drag myself to the theater to watch. If I catch it in a couple months on something free, and it's not regarded as the worst movie ever by that time, maybe I'll pay attention to it, but no theater prices.

I haven't even seen any "interesting" people today to discuss. Some days you see the crazy person driving down the street with a grit in one hand and a cell phone in the other, trying to take a left turn from the right lane. Some days you see the fattest person you've ever seen riding a scooter. Some days, you see two teenage kids doing something you know will put one of them in the hospital by the end of the day. Some days, you see the most gorgeous person you've ever seen walking down the sidewalk, and you walk into something because you're not paying attention, and then YOU'RE that person. But alas, none of that today.

The good news is, the next two days present almost perfect situations to find these people. A professional sporting event and a couple of trips to bars to see live music. If nothing else, there's bound to be a couple people trying to dance who have absolutely no rhythm. I be they're doofy white guys. But they'll probably be with hot women. They must have Harleys. Maybe I should get a Harley. But I don't want a Harley. I'm happy with a Honda. Maybe I should trash their Harleys. Nah, they're probably the responsible type who have insurance anyway. And it's probably my own insurance company, so my rates would go up because they had to pay for some doofy white guy's bike repair because some young thug set it on fire and pushed it off a loading dock. God I hate those guys. Especially the young thug.

So in the grand scheme of things, today has been a totally uninteresting day thus far. The only good thing is that I got paid today. I hope no one's relying on this post to brighten his/her day. I gots nuthin'.

To the edge and beyond.

Superman and Supervisors and Toilet Humor

Supervisors. They don't exist. If you've ever called a customer service support line and had a request that wasn't allowed via the script, you may have been presented with the option of speaking to a supervisor or requested to speak with a supervisor. In either case, a conversation was never held between you and a supervisor, of that much, I am sure of.

I wish companies would just rewrite the customer service script to include the answer to the "can I speak with a supervisor" question. The answer is obviously, "no you can't." Just tell me that. Don't tell me "the supervisor is busy right now, can (s)he call you back when (s)he's available?" Just tell me the supervisor doesn't exist, because I know I'll never receive that call. At this point, I'm not even requesting that a supervisor actually be employed to speak to me. I'm just looking for honesty in our customer/customer service relationship.

I'm not saying that I'm better than supervisors. That would be like comparing myself to Superman. Neither actually exists, so it doesn't really make sense to make the comparison. If you think you're a "supervisor" in your current job, I suggest you take a long, hard look at yourself, and try to come to terms with the fact that you're only a figment of your own imagination.

There are several specific stories I could relay that have brought me to these conclusions, but they are not for the here-and-now. By divulging details, I'd be exposing two rat-bastard companies, and I just don't feel like throwing that out there right now.

On a different note, I really have to wonder about flush volume. Not audible volume, the volume of water. The water-saver flushing appliances now, specifically. How is it that a toilet can flush a deuce and everything that goes along with it with only 1.6 gallons of water, and it takes a urinal a whole gallon just to take down number one? The math just doesn't add up for me on this one.

So there's this guy where I used to work who would use the urinal in a kind of unique way. He'd put one hand up over his head on the wall, and use the other hand to push on the flush knob the whole time he was going. First off, the Superman pee is kind of funny in-and-of itself, but what's with having to flush the whole time? Does he have the world's most acidic pee, and it would eat through the urinal if he didn't flush it immediately? Do the flushing-water noises help him go? What happens if he encounters a bathroom with the automatic sensor? So many questions. And I'm sure they're all funnier going unanswered. That's why I never asked him. Well, that, and the basic laws of men's bathrooms that dictate there should be no talking while you're in one.

And apparently, he likes to pee, as he has his own coffeepot in his office. And he's always making and drinking coffee. I don't know about you, but whenever I drink coffee, it's like a friggin river.

I realize that I used Superman twice in this post, but I like Superman. I like saying Superman. I like that Jerry Seinfeld likes Superman. But Shaq having a Superman tattoo kind of ruins Superman for me. But I can still use Superman in conversation. Alot.

Have a SUPER day, MAN.

Christmas music and cats and dogs

Christmas music. Some stations start playing only Christmas music beginning in the middle of November. As far as I'm concerned, that's insane. Like nuttier than squirrel turds insane. What program director in his/her right mind thinks that's a wise decision? I mean, I know I refuse to even tune to a channel on the radio if it's before the middle of December and the channel plays even 50% Christmas music. There have to be more people like me, people who want to actually hear REAL music most of the time. If I was in marketing or advertising for a company, there's no way I'd advertise on a radio station that played only Christmas music for a full month and a half, at least during that month and a half. How can these radio stations still turn a profit? Seriously, a MONTH AND A HALF.

There is no holiday season that should last so long that Aunt Flo can show up twice during the celebration. How can Christmas season last longer than the lunar cycle? Maybe it's payback to all the non-Christians who get the day off, even though they don't -- at least in the Biblical sense -- celebrate Christmas. I'm all for paid holidays, so the standard two days off for Christmas is nice, but at the expense of "Christmas spirit" for a full month and a half? And at the same time, giving everyone, even those who bitch incessantly about it, a free couple paid days off? I'd rather everyone in the country just be given September 11 off as a national holiday and a floating day that you could use at Christmas time if you wanted. Wouldn't that be a kick in the pants to non-Christians? Suddenly not getting a long weekend at the end of the year? I suppose it's no more of a kick in the pants than now, having no national holidays to observe whatever it may be that they do or do not worship. But whatever. They'd still be pissed. Either way, it won't happen.

Seriously, if this country is going to continue down this path of being "PC", then isn't it time that the Christmas holiday be demoted from being a national holiday? There's plenty of people, not only in the U.S.A., but in the whole world, who get a "free day" because this country has gone so overboard with Christmas. I'm just saying.

Christmas is great. But it's only one day. Not 45. Someone please send out a memo. Would it surprise anyone to find out that they've been playing Christmas music here at work for the past couple of weeks? No? Didn't think so.

So after that observation-turned-rant, where is there to go? To the sports world? To drunken debauchery? To (regular) music? Weather, perhaps? No, I think we're in the mood for animal talk.

Cats or dogs? The debate rages on. Some people like dogs, some like cats, some like both. Some people just hate cats in general. Probably, they've never been around a "nice" cat. I enjoy being around both cats and dogs.

There is something to be said for walking in your front door to be greeted by a dog that's bouncing off the walls. For some reason, dogs seem to behave like it's the first time they've ever seen you every time they see you. That level of excitement is nice to a certain extent. When you're sitting in the living room watching television and the dog sees another dog being walked outside on the sidewalk and lets out an abrupt, loud bark, the excitement isn't so welcome anymore.

On the flip side, cats can have a variety of different behaviors when you walk in the door. Some cats are just always timid, and are always hiding somewhere when they hear the front door. Others seem rather annoyed that you're been away from home. Still others come "show the love", as they've been lonely since you left. Some of them are pick-up kitties, and others are, at most, lap cats. Much differently than dogs, they don't really get excited when someone "new" comes in the front door if someone's already home.

They both beg for human food. Cats don't need to be walked, but then sometimes that's a disadvantage. Cats also don't need to be taken out to go number 1 or number 2, but dogs can actually be taught to obey. Certain breeds of dogs are extremely ugly to me, while the same is not true for cats.

But I guess it really boils down to what you want, a pussy or a bitch.

Take it easy.

Hard Drives and Soda

So last night I found myself giving computer advice to a couple friends who both have better computers than I do. They both built their computers from the ground-up, they both do frequent upgrades, and neither one of them had ever considered moving their system swap file off of the system drive.

Now, this information has been basic knowledge to me for years. But apparently, it's not something that some experienced computer people ever consider. As such, let me lay it out as quickly as I can.

One of the main bottlenecks on a current system is hard drive access times. The easiest way to give a system a BIG performance boost, especially during boot-up, is to put the swap file on a different drive than the OS. For a typical desktop system, this involves adding a new hard drive and then configuring the system to use the other drive for its swap file space.

The important things to understand about the above is that you need a different physical drive. A different partion on the same physical drive won't do much, if any, good. Another thing to realize is that your swap file should really be on an internal drive, so that it's not accidentally disconnected while in use (that, and there are speed and technical issues possibly by doing it any other way). That means no USB hard drives to serve as swap file space. They're great for quick storage, but they don't quite solve the problem at hand.

Unfortunately, for laptops, this isn't usually an option, so my advice for a laptop is that if you need performance in a laptop, go with a 7200 RPM drive (it's also a wise choice for a desktop system -- stay away from the 5400 RPM drives unless you're only using them for extra storage).

With the low hard drive prices and people loading so much utter and complete crap on their systems these days, there really shouldn't be anyone out there without a second drive to host a swap file.

There, that's my public service announcement for the day. I'd be happy to elaborate on this information, but unless someone asks, I'm not going there. Just trust me on this, having the swap file on a second drive is the way to go.

Anyway, on to bigger-and-brighter things. Well, should be, anyway. Nothing notable has happened since my last post, so I'll just kind of wing it today.

Has anyone noticed that toilet paper has recently gotten narrower? I probably wouldn't have noticed, but I had a four-pack of the "old" stuff and had bought a four-pack of the "new" stuff (same brand, typ, etc.). Placing them side-by-side under the sink, I found that the "old" stood taller, and I thought it odd. Since, I've noticed toilet paper seems to have narrowed up as an overall, not just the brand that I use. Our collective asses are getting WIDER, not narrower.

Another alarming trend is for "individual" amounts of soda to be increasing. Back in the 80s, soda came in eight-packs of twelve ounce (returnable glass) soda bottles, or twelve-packs of twelve ounce cans. Then, the "individual" packaging became more prevalent, and you could buy a sixteen ounce (non returnable) glass bottle. Then, they went plastic, and they had a thick black plastic bottom cap on the plastic bottles. Then, with recycling issues, they moved to thinner plastic on the bottom of the soda bottle, with no thick plastic cap. Then came the twenty ounce bottles (plastic). Somewhere in there, six-and-eight-packs of these non-returnable bottles became the norm. Now, while you can still get a single twenty ounce bottle pretty much anywhere (soda machines, gas stations, restaurants, etc.), the size seems to have made a drastic change. Mutliple packs seem to come in either twenty-four ounce size or one liter (16.9 ounce) size. What I want to know is, who determines what size of soda I can buy? I'd like to see the studies that determine that Coke should come in one liter bottles, and Pepsi in twenty-four ounce bottles.

Oh, and one more note on soda. The flavor-of-the-month has to stop. Diet Coke with Lemon. Diet Coke with Lime. Dr. Pepper with Berries and Cream. Dr. Pepper with Black Cherry. Vanilla Coke/Pepsi. Seriously, stop it. We had enough with Cherry Coke. That was the last "flavored" brand-soda we should have seen. The only thing that should flavor soda besides SODA flavor is LIQUOR. Spiced rum and cola, sure. I don't drink mixed drinks, but even I know that.

No funny stories today. Peace, yo.

Christmas cards and pushy townies

So my first "blog thought" since creating this here blog happened yesterday. I went to buy Christmas cards. I bought a pack of 18 nice, large cards with nice envelopes and seals. I paid $17 (plus tax). They came in a cardboard box with a plastic top. For 18 cards, that's less than a buck each. Every time I buy a Mother's Day card or a birthday card or a wedding card, I shell out between 3 and 5 bucks for the same kind of card. And there's less packaging for a single card. Talk about a mark-up for the single card. I think from now on, I'm going to do what my buddy does and just buy a random card (in this case, one of a fancy Christmas card set) and then crudely sharpie out any text unique to the card's occasion, and write my own well-wishes (or in my buddy's case, something to the effect of "Happy Birthday, Fuckface") in them (and if there are drawings of people or animals, draw penises and/or breasts on them, gender-depending).

For several years, I've entertained the thought of creating a blog. For one, I like to write. For two, I can tell a good story. And for three, I seem to find myself with lots of stories to tell. So it was refreshing to run across my first "blog thought" above, where I find myself out in RL, thinking "I need to write about this". Little did I know that the next time I'd be thinking about making an entry on my blog would come mere hours later.

I met up with some friends late at a kinda-local dive bar. They had been there, drinking, for several hours while I was out elsewhere, not drinking. There was live music. No sooner had I walked in the place and wandered over to the bar to catch a brewski, than this girl (who I recognized as working there, as I'd been there before), began what was to become a long and entertaining hour of making it blatently obvious that she wanted not just a piece of me, but the whole thing. Now I have this knack for attracting interesting women at "local" bars, so this was not really a surprise. What caught me off guard, however, was the level of forwardness (if that's even a word) and persistence with which this girl came at me. Part of the conversation was this:

"Have you ever been married?"
"No."
"Are you divorced?"
"No." (at which point, I looked at my friends to see if I was missing something)
"Are you gay?"
"No."
"Well then get some balls and drink these beers." (she had bought me a couple beers and lined them up after I had told her I need about ten beers in me before I start dancing)
"There's no way I can drink enough beer in the next half hour to get me to the point I need to be to dance."
"I live about a block away on the lake, right over there."
blink,blink
"Did I catch you off guard with that comment?"

At this point, I was still speechless, but the closest words to describe what I was feeling at the time would probably be, "Can I have the last minute of my life back?", although that really doesn't capture the "Please don't bite my head off when you're done with me" feelings I was also experiencing. Later, after the band stopped playing, the lead singer (female) came over and was talking to me, and bar girl took her aside and told her that she was interfering with her hitting on me. Anyway, a couple of my friends helped me "sneak" out of the bar, and I went home alone (usually that's a bad thing, but not that night).

Keep on keepin' on.

And so a new era begins

So here we are. Actually, here I am. This will become the place where I can write creatively and openly. I can only hope for some readership along the way. I'd eventually like to get into a "question of the day" type forum, where I post one question a day, however serious or trite, and the readers weigh in with answers. That won't work currently, since one important part of the equation -- the readers -- do not yet exist. So for the time being, I guess I'll probably just post on my thoughts for the day, about things I find interesting, or interesting things that happened to me. If you happen to run across this blog and find the reading interesting, let me know. The more feedback I get, the more motivated I'll be to generate interesting content.

So, for the my first post ever, I guess I'll just start rambling about nothing in particular. Why is it at rock concerts, or perhaps concerts in general, people point over their head at the band? There's the one-hand variety (usually when holding a beverage with the other hand), and the two-hand variety. I don't understand this concept. Is it supposed to make the band feel needed, wanted, liked? I would think people just showing up would do that. Anyway, I just don't understand it.

While we're on concerts, let me just say that I don't understand the point of going to a show and putting chemicals in your body to extreme excess. I'm all for having a few beers at a show, loosen myself up, put some swing in my hips. But to drink to the point of knocking people over, or knocking my beverage over, or getting kicked out, or not even being able to remember the concert the next day? Odd behavior, I must say.

Enough interesting things happen to me that I suppose I should share some of them. While this here blog is meant to be a place for randomness and anonymity, if I share enough of my experiences, one day there may be a reader who recognizes them, and realizes who's writing this shmaltz. Should that ever happen, I'd call it a success, since anyone paying attention to it enough to figure out who's writing it would obviously be enjoying themselves.

So the one experience I have to share today is from earlier this week. I went out to see a band. I watched a couple sets and then left to go meet up with some friends. I convinced them to wander back over and catch the last set. We were there for a few drinks and had chatted up the bartender a couple times. I don't recall exactly how the subject came up, but the bartender ended up smacking her own ass. My friends went ape over this, and wanted more, to which she obliged, smacking herself numerous times until proclaiming that it was beginning to hurt. Well, as it stands, it was the first time I or any of them had been to the bar, but apparently, this bartender works there at the same time every week, so my buddies are planning to go back there. I guess the moral of the story is, if you're an attractive female bartender and presented with the idea to smack your own ass while guys are watching, don't automatically shoot the idea down. It could be a lucrative venture. And my advice for the guys is just to continue being pigs, and eventually you'll find a bartender who will smack her own ass for your entertainment. It's a win-win situation.

Thank you, and good night.