I had some trouble the last few days trying to get in here and post. And now I've forgotten everything I thought I might blab about. Not to worry though, I have tabs full of crazy stuff up my sleeve, and I'm sure to share them with you all soon.
As far as my troubles, I haven't been able to log in here, and I have wracked my brain, small help there, trying to figure out which link will take me to the solution. I even tried the email that lets me change my password, as it all stemmed from something seeming to do with the password, or possibly my user name.
I don't know what the hell it means when I see "beta" attached to anything. But apparently this blogging site did something with the word "beta" attached, and it all happened around the time I had my issues. I don't know what this all means, nor do I know what to expect. I'm tired of the help area. I'm sure it means all sorts of new bells and whistles. Maybe they'll retire my polka dot background.
As you may have noticed, I'm back, though it's likely that no one noticed my absence. I don't know when or how it got fixed, but when I tried to get on just now, it went straight where it was supposed to, and I was still signed in from whenever I'd actually last been able to log in, two or three days ago. There's not likely a lesson or a laugh in this poor thing.
So there you go. Another of my painfully boring personal anecdotes.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Saturday, August 12, 2006
train of thought in links
I have a window open with several tabs, each of which is a different video. It's a funny little story how I came upon these videos. It won't be the kind of funny that makes you laugh, the story part at least, but the videos themselves are all funny in their own way.
This little trail starts at Science Blogs with a funny video. In it, Ricky Gervais reads from the book of Genesis in the Bible. If your only reading of the Bible is in a context that is accepting of it as true, this might be a little unpleasant to watch, but you really should anyway.
Our next stop is more Ricky Gervais. He's the actor that starred in the British show The Office, a remake of which was done here in the US. I've not seen the original, but Gervais is funny in what I have seen him do, and Steve whatsit from the American version was mostly painful to watch. That's why we should import the real show instead of the idea.
Anyway, that being said, I went on with the You Tube experience and watched another Ricky Gervais video, this one featuring the soccer talents of a certain pair of English stars being interviewed by Mr. Gervais. Peter Crouch and Wayne Rooney show us why they are the pride of England.
That damned video site being what it is, I found myself watching a delightful music video cheering on England's boys, an easy jump from the previous video and perfectly representative of the curse that is You Tube. I'd have loved to find this before or during the World Cup as it just would have played better then, but it's still pretty damn funny. I love how they so perfectly captured Rooney's monkey face.
So, there you have it. I've managed a post based entirely on videos, showing you all how easily I can get sucked from something seemingly intelligent into some dark and humorous time wasting cesspool of goofiness. Honestly, there were more videos mixed in with these few, but I cull the worst out, personally sacraficing myself to provide you every so often with something of passing humorous interest.
This little trail starts at Science Blogs with a funny video. In it, Ricky Gervais reads from the book of Genesis in the Bible. If your only reading of the Bible is in a context that is accepting of it as true, this might be a little unpleasant to watch, but you really should anyway.
Our next stop is more Ricky Gervais. He's the actor that starred in the British show The Office, a remake of which was done here in the US. I've not seen the original, but Gervais is funny in what I have seen him do, and Steve whatsit from the American version was mostly painful to watch. That's why we should import the real show instead of the idea.
Anyway, that being said, I went on with the You Tube experience and watched another Ricky Gervais video, this one featuring the soccer talents of a certain pair of English stars being interviewed by Mr. Gervais. Peter Crouch and Wayne Rooney show us why they are the pride of England.
That damned video site being what it is, I found myself watching a delightful music video cheering on England's boys, an easy jump from the previous video and perfectly representative of the curse that is You Tube. I'd have loved to find this before or during the World Cup as it just would have played better then, but it's still pretty damn funny. I love how they so perfectly captured Rooney's monkey face.
So, there you have it. I've managed a post based entirely on videos, showing you all how easily I can get sucked from something seemingly intelligent into some dark and humorous time wasting cesspool of goofiness. Honestly, there were more videos mixed in with these few, but I cull the worst out, personally sacraficing myself to provide you every so often with something of passing humorous interest.
cabinets and refrigerators
Don't you love that feeling you get when you've almost got the plastic wrap into the cabinet where it lives only to find that you are in fact putting up the bowl of food which actually is not only not the plastic wrap but also doesn't go into the cabinet, belonging rather in the refrigerator, which is in fact behind you and not at near ground level, unlike the cabinet, which is.
An even better feeling would be the one that I just had from the spell checker. The only word it decided was misspelled is the word "cabinets" and that only in the title because it always wants me to capitalize that first word in the title, which I don't do.
An even better feeling would be the one that I just had from the spell checker. The only word it decided was misspelled is the word "cabinets" and that only in the title because it always wants me to capitalize that first word in the title, which I don't do.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
corporate shilling via the school
I just saw an interesting commercial for a Clorox product. Apparently we are so overcome with germs that we need a handy wipe that disinfects with one quick swipe. I've seen the commercials for this before, and I've scoffed at this product. I'm just curious how dirty people feel their homes are that this product sells.
The point of this particular rant isn't how corporations scare us into buying products we don't need. Hell, advertising is all about finding a way to convince people they need your product, so it's to be expected that they will attack from whichever directions makes the most sense based on what they are trying to foist on us.
In some cases, a new product is better for some reason. I hate dusting, but my newish duster on a stick works a lot better than the old tech for dusting, basically a bird's ass on a stick. This is a product that doesn't need too much pushing. But a wipe that basically makes things slightly cleaner might be a tougher sell.
But, if in the commercial for the sanitizing wipe we show kids, you know, dirty, filthy, germ laden kids, and if we show this kids wiping their noses and licking their fingers and sneezing indiscriminately, then we can show the wild and crazy germ transmission that is the natural byproduct of a child's existence. And if we set all this in a back-to-school setting, then you know these things will sell. And here's the capper, we can suggest in the commercial that good parents will buy this product and donate it to their child's school. Yeah, that'll push our sales and please the board. Sweet!
Yes, they do indeed suggest that we purchase their product and donate them to our schools. Of course, we trust this product, so we are certainly buying some for our own home. We are filthy people that live surrounded by germs. Thank Clorox there is some large corporation taking our made up by them concerns seriously.
Oh yeah, it's products like this that are responsible for the oncoming super bug that takes out half the population setting us all up for the final showdown between good and evil. Stephen King totally predicted this. Seriously.
The point of this particular rant isn't how corporations scare us into buying products we don't need. Hell, advertising is all about finding a way to convince people they need your product, so it's to be expected that they will attack from whichever directions makes the most sense based on what they are trying to foist on us.
In some cases, a new product is better for some reason. I hate dusting, but my newish duster on a stick works a lot better than the old tech for dusting, basically a bird's ass on a stick. This is a product that doesn't need too much pushing. But a wipe that basically makes things slightly cleaner might be a tougher sell.
But, if in the commercial for the sanitizing wipe we show kids, you know, dirty, filthy, germ laden kids, and if we show this kids wiping their noses and licking their fingers and sneezing indiscriminately, then we can show the wild and crazy germ transmission that is the natural byproduct of a child's existence. And if we set all this in a back-to-school setting, then you know these things will sell. And here's the capper, we can suggest in the commercial that good parents will buy this product and donate it to their child's school. Yeah, that'll push our sales and please the board. Sweet!
Yes, they do indeed suggest that we purchase their product and donate them to our schools. Of course, we trust this product, so we are certainly buying some for our own home. We are filthy people that live surrounded by germs. Thank Clorox there is some large corporation taking our made up by them concerns seriously.
Oh yeah, it's products like this that are responsible for the oncoming super bug that takes out half the population setting us all up for the final showdown between good and evil. Stephen King totally predicted this. Seriously.
Monday, August 07, 2006
dominionist theocratic freaks
For some who are concerned about this, be warned that the first big red link will take you to that blogging site that many christian homeschoolers use and which many diverse homeschoolers choose not to visit or link to. I'm linking because I'm so scared of the attitude espoused in linked post.
Some christians like to argue that the concept of separation of church and state is not in our Constitution. I say that perhaps they haven't read the document very closely. So many of these same people like to argue that they hold some high moral ground and are therefore able to craft laws and punishments in regard to matters that should be of no concern to them.
A quote from a blogger and homeschooler Scott Somerville, I have been categorized as a "dominionist" by my "inclusive" friends--not because I tremble at the thought that God is both just and powerful, but because I think I should do what I can to make our laws line up with His justice.
Scott's last line there is the kind of thing that makes me tremble. I could take us all on a stroll through history and discuss all the different times that theocratic tendencies caused death, destruction, hurt and just general turmoil. Religion is too often forced on people who want nothing of it, like a riot spilling out into the streets leaving a path of destruction in its wake. That is how I see religion and people with dominionist tendencies.
From Merriam-Webster Online we learn that dominion means domain or sovereignty. Some people feel that the earth and all the people on it should recognize their particular brand of god as sovereign and all the earth as his domain. Through their position as his representatives, these same people feel that they should exert in god's stead his dominionist desires.
I think I should do what I can to make our laws line up with his justice is a line that screams of theocracy. With the christians able to draw our lives as they would we would lose all sorts of freedoms and liberties that are our birthright as humans.
Scott doesn't seem to understand atheism. It isn't a religion! It is a complete disbelief in religion and the gods that people all religions. It isn't a crazed raging in the face of god. A belief in god, in my opinion is kind of like believing in a hollow earth.
For a group so interested in their discussion of freedom, it's amazing how many people are left to suffer needlessly by the dominionist theocrats. Screw the weak and the downtrodden. Let he who crows loudest about sin cast the first stone and homeschool their kids to learn how to remove the burden of personal rights and privacy by creating a theocratic government in what was once a great country.
Some christians like to argue that the concept of separation of church and state is not in our Constitution. I say that perhaps they haven't read the document very closely. So many of these same people like to argue that they hold some high moral ground and are therefore able to craft laws and punishments in regard to matters that should be of no concern to them.
A quote from a blogger and homeschooler Scott Somerville, I have been categorized as a "dominionist" by my "inclusive" friends--not because I tremble at the thought that God is both just and powerful, but because I think I should do what I can to make our laws line up with His justice.
Scott's last line there is the kind of thing that makes me tremble. I could take us all on a stroll through history and discuss all the different times that theocratic tendencies caused death, destruction, hurt and just general turmoil. Religion is too often forced on people who want nothing of it, like a riot spilling out into the streets leaving a path of destruction in its wake. That is how I see religion and people with dominionist tendencies.
From Merriam-Webster Online we learn that dominion means domain or sovereignty. Some people feel that the earth and all the people on it should recognize their particular brand of god as sovereign and all the earth as his domain. Through their position as his representatives, these same people feel that they should exert in god's stead his dominionist desires.
I think I should do what I can to make our laws line up with his justice is a line that screams of theocracy. With the christians able to draw our lives as they would we would lose all sorts of freedoms and liberties that are our birthright as humans.
Scott doesn't seem to understand atheism. It isn't a religion! It is a complete disbelief in religion and the gods that people all religions. It isn't a crazed raging in the face of god. A belief in god, in my opinion is kind of like believing in a hollow earth.
For a group so interested in their discussion of freedom, it's amazing how many people are left to suffer needlessly by the dominionist theocrats. Screw the weak and the downtrodden. Let he who crows loudest about sin cast the first stone and homeschool their kids to learn how to remove the burden of personal rights and privacy by creating a theocratic government in what was once a great country.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
maybe I can vote again
There's nothing like the feeling of knowing every vote you cast is a pointless exercise in futility. As George Carlin put it so sweetly, on election day, you can go and vote if you want to. I'll stay home and masturbate. We'll both be performing the same basic function, but the difference is that when we are done, I'll have a little something to show for it.Disagree with me all you want. Call me a bad citizen for thinking that voting is a lie and a cheat, stealing my time and sanity. Don't for one minute doubt that I believe in the concept, because I love the idea that society can make itself what it will, what the citizens deserve. But don't for one minute doubt that it's an illusion that people have more power than politicians and christians. It just doesn't work that way no matter how we long for some halcyon days of years gone by.
We all dissolve and rot the same in the belly of the beast. Even with our myriad skin colors and hair styles and sexual proclivities. In the end, all that matters is the service we perform in the face of the power. It's all about favors, and evil favors evil. Even Bush and Rove and Cheneymort will find their backs to the wall when Cthulhu's reign comes, as they've signed up to serve the wrong evil, and as the blood drips from his majesty's gaping maw, I will shower in that blood in search of a new cleanliness. I will revel in the new evil that outevils even our current stack of assholes that is the Republican party. Evil shrouded in a veil of good or christian would be considered to be worse than evil for the sake of evil, but at least they can pretend to have been driven by a sense of moral outrage.
Believe me, Cthulhu can have it all. I rest assured in my own beliefs that out of the discord will rise a new dawn of Erisian chaos and good times and free steak, beer and pot. Eris will make it all better, perhaps with a nice dash of eros, but even that won't matter. All the matters is the chaos and the rising of a new Discordian era. When that day comes, friends and neighbors, all will be washed clean again, the meanies shuffled forcefully off this mortal coil into a world where the stains on their hands will shine forevermore, never to be washed away or hidden.
Hail Eris! All hail Discordia!
For the theft of the above picture I thank the good folks at Science Blogs. Check them out if you like, well, science blogs. It's all kinds of sciencey and shit.
more on yesterday's soccer game
I meant to mention this yesterday, but I didn't. I kind of forgot. But I wanted to toss out my minor bitch about Freddy Adu. I can see his skill when he gets touches. I can see that he almost tries kind of hard. I'd really like to see him attack more. He lost the ball plenty of times, and each time he seemed to accept it. You just don't give the ball up and allow the opposing team to wander back to the other half. Each time Adu lost the ball, he just turned and walked back to the MLS side of the field, waiting for someone to get the ball to him. Sorry, kiddo, but if you give the ball up, the least you can do is make a token effort at getting it back. Why would you ever let the other team wander nonchalantly away from you? Damn all strikers/forwards that don't play defense when it's time. You don't go into standby mode when your team is on defense, you join them in defense and attack.
finally, another soccer post
If you watched today's MLS all stars versus Chelsea FC and are like me, you had a blast watching the MLS put a stop to the Brits. Actually, watching Chelsea was almost like watching a World Cup all stars match. Either way, the MLS guys won the game.
I'm sure they only won because the Chelsea side was tired and not in shape. After all, this is preseason for Chelsea. You know how out of shape and tired World Cup caliber players get after a month.
From what I saw, if the MLS all stars had practiced together a bit more as a team, they would have done that much better of a job of kicking premier ass. It's nice to see that at some level US soccer represents itself well to the world.
I was happy to see Landon Donovan in street clothes meaning that he was, for some blessed reason, not going to play. Seeing Eddie Pope in the same situation wasn't as cheery, but he played equally as poorly in Germany, and apparently he was not needed today.
Look forward to more soccer posts. AYSO starts before much longer. I have an email about the meeting, the one where we go to the Methodist church and get our paperwork and pick practice locations. I'm going to get excited at some point. This will be our last season playing U8.
I'm sure they only won because the Chelsea side was tired and not in shape. After all, this is preseason for Chelsea. You know how out of shape and tired World Cup caliber players get after a month.
From what I saw, if the MLS all stars had practiced together a bit more as a team, they would have done that much better of a job of kicking premier ass. It's nice to see that at some level US soccer represents itself well to the world.
I was happy to see Landon Donovan in street clothes meaning that he was, for some blessed reason, not going to play. Seeing Eddie Pope in the same situation wasn't as cheery, but he played equally as poorly in Germany, and apparently he was not needed today.
Look forward to more soccer posts. AYSO starts before much longer. I have an email about the meeting, the one where we go to the Methodist church and get our paperwork and pick practice locations. I'm going to get excited at some point. This will be our last season playing U8.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
my rant about the stupid big truck
Momma recently had a mishap while driving home after a long and very late night at work. Our poor Honda suffered the physical damage while Momma got all kinds of freaked out by the incident.
We have a Honda that is about ten years old and just now approaching 100,000 miles. I love our Honda. I will profess to wishing our lovely Honda had another pair of cylinders, a little more get in her get up and go. Know what I'm sayin? But that's beside the point. Of all the cars I've ever had, this one is my absolute favorite.
Well, our poor ol' Honda is at the repair shop. The rental agency gave me my choice between the Chevy Aveo and a Nissan Frontier. I chose the damn truck. My moral sensitivities could have screamed louder for the gas sipper from Chevy, but my personal feelings of coolness nudged me harder to the big red truck.
I'm only slightly torn by the "guy big truck" thing. This truck is a boy child dream come true. It sits just high enough, looks just bad enough, is a lovely shade of red. Aesthetically speaking, from a certain point of view, this truck is pretty cool.
And I don't think I'm especially anal. Let's get that out of the way. But this truck outright sucks several ways and some ways twice. First, this truck is a rolling blind spot. On some right hand turns, the passenger door mirror completely blocks the street you are turning onto, an especially sensitive issue in my often hilly home. Driving home today in a thunderstorm, the tires were throwing sheets of water across the windshield, huge blinding sheets of water that should have gone on someone else's windshield driving next to me. It drinks gas like it was the '80's and nobody cares. I've fallen asleep in church pews that were more comfortable than the seats, though there is a very well placed left side foot rest. I feel like a huge tool driving this truck around town.
Before this rant turns into a discussion of my disdain for most suv's and large trucks, I'll have to remind myself that this is all about the one of these things with which I'm now familiar. I really hate this truck more each time I drive it. It does give one a sense of power, of being above those others. It's a generally loathsome feeling that my choice of a car unnecessarily large is somehow indicative of my greater value and worth, you know, just in case, like, we're ever in an accident. But that's not what this rant is about.
Seatbelt laws are a tool of the auto and petrochemical companies. By insisting that families should all wear seatbelts, they've forced people to buy larger and larger cars. I come from a large family. I know how many people can fit into a Volkswagen Beetle (not the new ones actually) or a Ford Pinto wagon. Even if seatbelts do save lives, cars that didn't get into accidents would save more lives. Where's my flying robot car already? It's 2006 already, and my choice in a rental is a gas guzzling piece of bling with eight cupholders for five passengers, or I can pick Detroit's idea of economy, a turd colored Festiva wannabe.
Here I end my rant. When American car makers get serious about making cars that both don't suck and get truly decent gas mileage then . . . I don't know. I just know that America and economy always means suck. There ought to be a way for products from the US to not suck. Of course, chances are my Japanese car was made in the US to some extent, so now I don't know what to think. I do know that when I saw the Aveo that I thought I was going to have to rent, I actually got a little bit sad. Then when I saw shiny red truck, I wasn't so sad. I could be less shallow, but the Aveo didn't have to suck.
We have a Honda that is about ten years old and just now approaching 100,000 miles. I love our Honda. I will profess to wishing our lovely Honda had another pair of cylinders, a little more get in her get up and go. Know what I'm sayin? But that's beside the point. Of all the cars I've ever had, this one is my absolute favorite.
Well, our poor ol' Honda is at the repair shop. The rental agency gave me my choice between the Chevy Aveo and a Nissan Frontier. I chose the damn truck. My moral sensitivities could have screamed louder for the gas sipper from Chevy, but my personal feelings of coolness nudged me harder to the big red truck.
I'm only slightly torn by the "guy big truck" thing. This truck is a boy child dream come true. It sits just high enough, looks just bad enough, is a lovely shade of red. Aesthetically speaking, from a certain point of view, this truck is pretty cool.
And I don't think I'm especially anal. Let's get that out of the way. But this truck outright sucks several ways and some ways twice. First, this truck is a rolling blind spot. On some right hand turns, the passenger door mirror completely blocks the street you are turning onto, an especially sensitive issue in my often hilly home. Driving home today in a thunderstorm, the tires were throwing sheets of water across the windshield, huge blinding sheets of water that should have gone on someone else's windshield driving next to me. It drinks gas like it was the '80's and nobody cares. I've fallen asleep in church pews that were more comfortable than the seats, though there is a very well placed left side foot rest. I feel like a huge tool driving this truck around town.
Before this rant turns into a discussion of my disdain for most suv's and large trucks, I'll have to remind myself that this is all about the one of these things with which I'm now familiar. I really hate this truck more each time I drive it. It does give one a sense of power, of being above those others. It's a generally loathsome feeling that my choice of a car unnecessarily large is somehow indicative of my greater value and worth, you know, just in case, like, we're ever in an accident. But that's not what this rant is about.
Seatbelt laws are a tool of the auto and petrochemical companies. By insisting that families should all wear seatbelts, they've forced people to buy larger and larger cars. I come from a large family. I know how many people can fit into a Volkswagen Beetle (not the new ones actually) or a Ford Pinto wagon. Even if seatbelts do save lives, cars that didn't get into accidents would save more lives. Where's my flying robot car already? It's 2006 already, and my choice in a rental is a gas guzzling piece of bling with eight cupholders for five passengers, or I can pick Detroit's idea of economy, a turd colored Festiva wannabe.
Here I end my rant. When American car makers get serious about making cars that both don't suck and get truly decent gas mileage then . . . I don't know. I just know that America and economy always means suck. There ought to be a way for products from the US to not suck. Of course, chances are my Japanese car was made in the US to some extent, so now I don't know what to think. I do know that when I saw the Aveo that I thought I was going to have to rent, I actually got a little bit sad. Then when I saw shiny red truck, I wasn't so sad. I could be less shallow, but the Aveo didn't have to suck.
Friday, August 04, 2006
holy flaming powerbooks Batman
This post over at the Wired is just messed up. According to their story, they woke to their laptop on fire. That seriously can't be good. I don't own anything from Apple, but the iTunes that came on my computer works better than the other crap that came on it to play music. Anyway, I'd be leery at this point and might have to call up somebody at Apple, maybe send them a letter or something. Did you go look at that picture? Isn't it messed up? Kind of funny too. Dumbasses and their dumb laptop.
As an aside, I just ran the spell checker. When it got to dumbasses it suggested deemphasizes, but I thought, nope, I believe I've emphasized just about right.
and now again, I have to admit that I'd misspelled leery as leary and the damn spell checker didn't catch it, but I did. Stupid dumbass spell checker.
As an aside, I just ran the spell checker. When it got to dumbasses it suggested deemphasizes, but I thought, nope, I believe I've emphasized just about right.
and now again, I have to admit that I'd misspelled leery as leary and the damn spell checker didn't catch it, but I did. Stupid dumbass spell checker.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Robin Williams sucks
Wasn't he both funny and a good actor once upon a time? He is on Fresh Air right now, usually one of my favorite radio programs. I'm certainly quite in love with Terry Gross even if, like all radio personalities, she looks nothing like the mental picture I had when she was just a voice. But this isn't about how cool Ms. Gross is.
Robin Williams sucks. Do the damn interview already. Leave the stupid voices and the exaggerated body movements at home for once and just quit acting like an ass. I know it's a radio interview, but he's still sitting in a studio somewhere being an idiot.
You aren't funny anymore, Robin Williams! I don't know what happened over the years to make you suck. And I'm sorry that you now suck, but yes indeed, you do now suck.
As stated, I enjoy Fresh Air and will even plan my kitchen routine somewhat around the radio in the kitchen which sadly gets the best reception in the house as far as NPR is concerned. But today I can't listen. I refuse to annoy myself with Robin Williams, who sucks, I feel inclined to point out.
Robin Williams sucks. Do the damn interview already. Leave the stupid voices and the exaggerated body movements at home for once and just quit acting like an ass. I know it's a radio interview, but he's still sitting in a studio somewhere being an idiot.
You aren't funny anymore, Robin Williams! I don't know what happened over the years to make you suck. And I'm sorry that you now suck, but yes indeed, you do now suck.
As stated, I enjoy Fresh Air and will even plan my kitchen routine somewhat around the radio in the kitchen which sadly gets the best reception in the house as far as NPR is concerned. But today I can't listen. I refuse to annoy myself with Robin Williams, who sucks, I feel inclined to point out.
mowing update
For everyone concerned about the state of my raggedy unkempt yard, it's mowed, go back to your desks. A total of twenty five raindrops may have fallen on the whole of our property before the sun roared back out in a ball of aaaack!
I wish I had a digital camera so that I could show you what a filthy child looks like. The only thing that The Boy likes as much as climbing is getting dirty. Under his clothes there may have been a clean spot, though he needed a bath before he ever set foot outside. At the end of our outside day though, I actually had to wipe the top coat of dirt off before putting him in the bath.
Today is also pretending it might rain. Last time I was out it didn't seem quite as hot as it should be. I could see breezes playing in the tree tops. I'm sure the only moisture we see outside a glass of water is going to be the humidty, but that's what I get for living in the south.
I wish I had a digital camera so that I could show you what a filthy child looks like. The only thing that The Boy likes as much as climbing is getting dirty. Under his clothes there may have been a clean spot, though he needed a bath before he ever set foot outside. At the end of our outside day though, I actually had to wipe the top coat of dirt off before putting him in the bath.
Today is also pretending it might rain. Last time I was out it didn't seem quite as hot as it should be. I could see breezes playing in the tree tops. I'm sure the only moisture we see outside a glass of water is going to be the humidty, but that's what I get for living in the south.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
great day to mow the yard
Yes, today was the today that I convinced myself that the heat wasn't quite as hot, and I could finally attack the yard. The grass isn't especially tall, for the most part, as a near absence of rain has kept the grass from getting too out of hand. However, my yard supports a number of different grasses, most of which grow differently from the others.
So up grows the random patches of tall stuff. In cooler months, this stuff doesn't get nearly as tall, but it grows very thick. It isn't a huge patch in amongst the rest of the smaller growing grasses, so my yard isn't a green wheat field just yet, but parts of it, those little patches, are outrageously tall compared to the other grass.
One neighbor is meticulous about his yard while the other runs it down as is needed. I, on the other hand, in the middle, procrastinate with ease, letting my already ragged yard grow uglier over the weeks till it even hurts my eyes. Then I rush out in whirl of sweat and cursing and drag the mower around on my one day in the sun.
Today was attack day. I noticed the dark cloud, but it seemed smallish and singular, more likely to provide a sweltering kind of shade than to pour out rain. I began as usual with the scooping of dog turds. I sent Big Brother to pick up the sticks blown off the tree last Friday when we got our most recent dousing of thunderstorm. I continued by sweeping up all the ashes and cigarette butts from the back porch.
It was about this time that the distant thunder first sounded, and I cocked my head to hear it better. Was it a passing airplane? or was that thunder? It was certainly thunder I judged. I knew then that this passing cloud couldn't entirely pass. I knew then that was not likely to get the mowing completed nor even begun.
The sad fact is that I could probably get the mowing done. I've seen plenty of these distant storms show every sign of raining here where we actually need it only to wander past, around and even directly over, preferring to give the mountains their rain. And while I'm certain the mountains need rain, they tend to get much more than we in the valley get.
The thunder rumbles ever closer, though a peek out the window indicates that the real rain is yet to come. Before we retreated inside we each felt raindrops, so we know it's real and it's there somewhere. But will it reach us? Or will I be out an hour from now sweating and cursing?
So up grows the random patches of tall stuff. In cooler months, this stuff doesn't get nearly as tall, but it grows very thick. It isn't a huge patch in amongst the rest of the smaller growing grasses, so my yard isn't a green wheat field just yet, but parts of it, those little patches, are outrageously tall compared to the other grass.
One neighbor is meticulous about his yard while the other runs it down as is needed. I, on the other hand, in the middle, procrastinate with ease, letting my already ragged yard grow uglier over the weeks till it even hurts my eyes. Then I rush out in whirl of sweat and cursing and drag the mower around on my one day in the sun.
Today was attack day. I noticed the dark cloud, but it seemed smallish and singular, more likely to provide a sweltering kind of shade than to pour out rain. I began as usual with the scooping of dog turds. I sent Big Brother to pick up the sticks blown off the tree last Friday when we got our most recent dousing of thunderstorm. I continued by sweeping up all the ashes and cigarette butts from the back porch.
It was about this time that the distant thunder first sounded, and I cocked my head to hear it better. Was it a passing airplane? or was that thunder? It was certainly thunder I judged. I knew then that this passing cloud couldn't entirely pass. I knew then that was not likely to get the mowing completed nor even begun.
The sad fact is that I could probably get the mowing done. I've seen plenty of these distant storms show every sign of raining here where we actually need it only to wander past, around and even directly over, preferring to give the mountains their rain. And while I'm certain the mountains need rain, they tend to get much more than we in the valley get.
The thunder rumbles ever closer, though a peek out the window indicates that the real rain is yet to come. Before we retreated inside we each felt raindrops, so we know it's real and it's there somewhere. But will it reach us? Or will I be out an hour from now sweating and cursing?
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
is parenting really generational?
This Washington Post article mentioned by Chris O'Donnell pointed out to me what I think is the overlooked problem in teen drug and alcohol use and sexual activity. The Washington Post sees it in terms of permissive parents versus overbearing parents. Chris seems to see it in terms of generational differences. Neither source approached the problem as I see it, honesty.
We are always fighting the evil trio of alcohol, drugs and sex. Perhaps some people even see the double standard, the discussion with your children making you a hypocrite because of all the things you did back in the sixties or seventies, or now even into the eighties or nineties. Hell, if you're like me, on into the . . .uuuuhhhh . . .the zeroties?
I think that we are dishonest too often about the evil trio. Perhaps we feel that a good scare will make kids not drink and drive. We can preach the evils of drug use. We can wing it with sex because who the hell really knows anyway. We each preach our beliefs on this one, some of our beliefs being a little healthier than others.
These problems were certainly there in earlier generations, but once upon a time, young, unwed mothers were shipped off to an aunt's house and disappeared from polite society. The drug addicted son went to the asylum or into the business or out on the street, depending on the family, and the same happens today with slightly more parents willing to turn a naive eye and continue to enable. We just lie our asses off and hide everything from everyone.
I'm not sure exactly what I'm trying to say here. I've written and rewritten this entire post at least three or four times. I get some righteous indignation out, and the upon rereading I see how off course I've gone as opposed what I set out to say. I think my own problem writing this may be much like the problem I see with our approach to the evil trio; it gets confusing. We can't make them go away, and too often we just approach it when we have to. And the only time we really have to approach these issues is when it's late enough to have become a problem. That's kind of addiction in a nutshell, the problem with alcohol and drugs. Yet we won't look at the problem of addiction, we just look down on the junky and keep on walking. But if we don't start with addiction, we can never look at the real problem with drugs. We too often miss the signs with kids and drugs, and we've been taught that drug addiction is a sign of a bad person and a criminal offense.
If we need to be honest about drugs, then we should be allowed the freedom of honesty about sex. Sex is so much different than our other two evil trio members. Sex has so much more going for it, and so much riding on it. (heehee at riding on it) I certainly don't have an answer to this one. If we are dishonest about drugs and alcohol, I fear that with sex we aren't dishonest so much as deluded. To some sex is sacred, to others it's a goal, to many people it's just something to do. It's also a great way to draw attention to a product. We are, like many animals, fairly sexually minded. Yet because we are human and like variety and choice, we make things up as we go. Yet to monkey wrench the cogs, we have a huge steaming mound of guilt served up right beside all that sexual wantsomeness.
None of the trio is actually evil. It's just that these are such strong urges for people. There is a certain desire for the lads and/or lasses and the cups, yet the trio can have such dire consequences when taken too lightly. There's a certain something that drives some to do things that others wish they wouldn't. Perhaps we don't want our kids to do some of these things. Condemning doesn't work any better than bullshitting. So where are we left? We have to start being honest with each other and our kids.
We are always fighting the evil trio of alcohol, drugs and sex. Perhaps some people even see the double standard, the discussion with your children making you a hypocrite because of all the things you did back in the sixties or seventies, or now even into the eighties or nineties. Hell, if you're like me, on into the . . .uuuuhhhh . . .the zeroties?
I think that we are dishonest too often about the evil trio. Perhaps we feel that a good scare will make kids not drink and drive. We can preach the evils of drug use. We can wing it with sex because who the hell really knows anyway. We each preach our beliefs on this one, some of our beliefs being a little healthier than others.
These problems were certainly there in earlier generations, but once upon a time, young, unwed mothers were shipped off to an aunt's house and disappeared from polite society. The drug addicted son went to the asylum or into the business or out on the street, depending on the family, and the same happens today with slightly more parents willing to turn a naive eye and continue to enable. We just lie our asses off and hide everything from everyone.
I'm not sure exactly what I'm trying to say here. I've written and rewritten this entire post at least three or four times. I get some righteous indignation out, and the upon rereading I see how off course I've gone as opposed what I set out to say. I think my own problem writing this may be much like the problem I see with our approach to the evil trio; it gets confusing. We can't make them go away, and too often we just approach it when we have to. And the only time we really have to approach these issues is when it's late enough to have become a problem. That's kind of addiction in a nutshell, the problem with alcohol and drugs. Yet we won't look at the problem of addiction, we just look down on the junky and keep on walking. But if we don't start with addiction, we can never look at the real problem with drugs. We too often miss the signs with kids and drugs, and we've been taught that drug addiction is a sign of a bad person and a criminal offense.
If we need to be honest about drugs, then we should be allowed the freedom of honesty about sex. Sex is so much different than our other two evil trio members. Sex has so much more going for it, and so much riding on it. (heehee at riding on it) I certainly don't have an answer to this one. If we are dishonest about drugs and alcohol, I fear that with sex we aren't dishonest so much as deluded. To some sex is sacred, to others it's a goal, to many people it's just something to do. It's also a great way to draw attention to a product. We are, like many animals, fairly sexually minded. Yet because we are human and like variety and choice, we make things up as we go. Yet to monkey wrench the cogs, we have a huge steaming mound of guilt served up right beside all that sexual wantsomeness.
None of the trio is actually evil. It's just that these are such strong urges for people. There is a certain desire for the lads and/or lasses and the cups, yet the trio can have such dire consequences when taken too lightly. There's a certain something that drives some to do things that others wish they wouldn't. Perhaps we don't want our kids to do some of these things. Condemning doesn't work any better than bullshitting. So where are we left? We have to start being honest with each other and our kids.
Monday, July 31, 2006
hairy crutch
I'm not entirely sure, but prehaps the searcher misspelled. I have an interesting hit in my statcounter. Someone in Australia found me by searching "hairy crutch." I know that a hairy crutch is the beginning of a good day, but beyond that, I'm not quite sure. Perhaps a nice hairy crutch is an Australian thing.
Friday, July 28, 2006
popsicle burn
Sure, it's a popsicle burn. I don't know quite what else to call it. I have a place now on my upper lip. Gramaw brought some sort of frozen fruit bars over about a week ago, and though they are good, they really are just some fancy hi-falutin popsicles.
The boys basically had them for lunch, or second breakfast if you'd rather, followed shortly by real lunch by the way, so I had one as well. Mine was actually breakfast so that you know I feed myself more poorly than those poor kids.
They really were delightful and tasty. I had lime. Every lick I took at first, the damn thing kept sticking to my lip. It was like a tiny little flagpole on a crisp February morning. Of course I kept going back for more as I've eaten frozen treats before. Sometimes you freeze to it, but you keep trying, and it never lasts that long anyway. I've certainly never gotten freezer burn from a popsicle. I certainly did today though.
So take that as a warning. There is one more dangerous food for us all to worry about. I'll work on forming a committee to make frozen treat makers throughout the country place warning labels. No one should suffer this mild unpleasantness ever again. My coffee makes me feel that place as a little tender and takes me right back to the trauma of the popsicle. Oooooh! the slight tenderness is so . . .there . . . at times.
I have to stop writing about this. It's giving me bad feelings, well, somewhat less than pleasant. Seriously, there is noticeable discomort.
Now I'm licking it to see if I can taste tender.
The boys basically had them for lunch, or second breakfast if you'd rather, followed shortly by real lunch by the way, so I had one as well. Mine was actually breakfast so that you know I feed myself more poorly than those poor kids.
They really were delightful and tasty. I had lime. Every lick I took at first, the damn thing kept sticking to my lip. It was like a tiny little flagpole on a crisp February morning. Of course I kept going back for more as I've eaten frozen treats before. Sometimes you freeze to it, but you keep trying, and it never lasts that long anyway. I've certainly never gotten freezer burn from a popsicle. I certainly did today though.
So take that as a warning. There is one more dangerous food for us all to worry about. I'll work on forming a committee to make frozen treat makers throughout the country place warning labels. No one should suffer this mild unpleasantness ever again. My coffee makes me feel that place as a little tender and takes me right back to the trauma of the popsicle. Oooooh! the slight tenderness is so . . .there . . . at times.
I have to stop writing about this. It's giving me bad feelings, well, somewhat less than pleasant. Seriously, there is noticeable discomort.
Now I'm licking it to see if I can taste tender.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
roller derby bake sale/away match
This is a two part ad for Momma and her roller derby buddies. First, her team, Machine Gun Kellys is having a bake sale. So if some random reader here happens to be in Knoxvegas this Saturday, stop by Market Square, buy some baked delights and offset some of the expense of this craziness.
I'm guessing you've checked out the poster. I'm hoping they don't mind that I lifted it right off the Myspace page. The Hard Knox Roller Girls are going to drive down to Alabama in August and put the Knox down on some of Birmingham's braver female citizens. The bout is against the Tragic City Rollers. It will be tragic for them when they lose, but the tragedy for Hard Knox is having to leave Tennessee and drive to Alabama.
So if you're close enough on the twentieth, swing on by and cheer for the away side. Now to find out if it's BYOB, cash bar, whatever. These are the important matters.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
rant about stupid girl
Via KnoxViews, I get a mindless rant from a first year law student explaining how women should stop dressing like sluts if they want a decent man. She really insults women as being little more than a product while men are mere consumers with a thrifty eye.
I don't expect her, as only a first year law student, to have mastered the mysterious art of crafting a well thought out argument, which she didn't. As a law student of any year or as a real honest to god lawyer, I wouldn't expect her to bother much with the truth or to care that she was engaging in gross stereotyping of entire genders, also which she didn't. Based on my limited experience with lawyers, they're a bunch of obnoxious drunks that are good for a drink once they get a job. I'm not sure, but the nonstop drinking might just be to quiet that voice that wants them to ask themselves if maybe they don't feel a little dirty, and wouldn't they like to get an honest job.
The article basically goes on for much too long about girls and their attire. If a girl looks cheap, then guys who want cheap girls will line up for her. If she advertises herself in a nicer package, then she will attract a guy who wants a nice girl. If she really just wants to have sex with guys, then she should dress like a prostitute, but unlike the whore, she's actually free. Then comes the doom, the dreaded one night stand and the lifetime of heartbreak when that guy you gave it to didn't call back. And furthermore she says, that's life, because guys don't call back.
The writer has absolutely no regard for men who she is quite able to analyze, and her conclusion is that we all want sex, nothing but sex, and we will take appropriate steps to get some sex. She even suggests that we "give two kinds of attention, sexual and every other kind." If you suggest that it's possible to separate all thoughts into sexual and otherwise, then you are giving a great deal of nonspecific value to otherwise. That allows for much more ability as men than she otherwise seems to allow. Her suggestions about women being little more than play things is more sad than aggravating. I would hope that the women in my life understand sex better than just as the one tool women have over men.
Yes, guys like it, the sweet monkey lovin'. I won't lie. And often enough, girls seem to enjoy this too. However, this does in no way diminish the capacity in most guys to be a caring and nice person. My perception of this woman's problems indicate a frustrating sexual history in which she attracted bad partners, possibly through decisions that she was making. If you find that your life is a sad history of one night stands, you must look at the one constant in all those couplings, and it's obviously not the guys. If you live your life using sex to find one decent guy, then your problem may need more help then dressing nicely.
I'll finish with a tip of the hat to the local prostitutes in saying that they don't dress like whores. Apparently, to sell oneself locally requires a combination of ill fitting sweat pants, plastic bag of belongings, worn out flip flops, it gets worse from here really, seriously! And also to the local lawyers, I don't really hold such disdain for you. I really don't.
I don't expect her, as only a first year law student, to have mastered the mysterious art of crafting a well thought out argument, which she didn't. As a law student of any year or as a real honest to god lawyer, I wouldn't expect her to bother much with the truth or to care that she was engaging in gross stereotyping of entire genders, also which she didn't. Based on my limited experience with lawyers, they're a bunch of obnoxious drunks that are good for a drink once they get a job. I'm not sure, but the nonstop drinking might just be to quiet that voice that wants them to ask themselves if maybe they don't feel a little dirty, and wouldn't they like to get an honest job.
The article basically goes on for much too long about girls and their attire. If a girl looks cheap, then guys who want cheap girls will line up for her. If she advertises herself in a nicer package, then she will attract a guy who wants a nice girl. If she really just wants to have sex with guys, then she should dress like a prostitute, but unlike the whore, she's actually free. Then comes the doom, the dreaded one night stand and the lifetime of heartbreak when that guy you gave it to didn't call back. And furthermore she says, that's life, because guys don't call back.
The writer has absolutely no regard for men who she is quite able to analyze, and her conclusion is that we all want sex, nothing but sex, and we will take appropriate steps to get some sex. She even suggests that we "give two kinds of attention, sexual and every other kind." If you suggest that it's possible to separate all thoughts into sexual and otherwise, then you are giving a great deal of nonspecific value to otherwise. That allows for much more ability as men than she otherwise seems to allow. Her suggestions about women being little more than play things is more sad than aggravating. I would hope that the women in my life understand sex better than just as the one tool women have over men.
Yes, guys like it, the sweet monkey lovin'. I won't lie. And often enough, girls seem to enjoy this too. However, this does in no way diminish the capacity in most guys to be a caring and nice person. My perception of this woman's problems indicate a frustrating sexual history in which she attracted bad partners, possibly through decisions that she was making. If you find that your life is a sad history of one night stands, you must look at the one constant in all those couplings, and it's obviously not the guys. If you live your life using sex to find one decent guy, then your problem may need more help then dressing nicely.
I'll finish with a tip of the hat to the local prostitutes in saying that they don't dress like whores. Apparently, to sell oneself locally requires a combination of ill fitting sweat pants, plastic bag of belongings, worn out flip flops, it gets worse from here really, seriously! And also to the local lawyers, I don't really hold such disdain for you. I really don't.
'cuz she asked so nice
Frankie loves these things, and I don't. But I do them anyway sometimes. So I'll do this one too, but only because my robot post was/is just too taxing to think about at this stage of the evening. I guess we'll just jump into it
What was I doing ten years ago?
Momma and I had been together just over a year at this point, little aware what this coupling would result in. We lived in a shady little shit hole on the side of a gravel parking lot belonging to what we were assured was the only lesbian bar in Rock Hill, SC. We were punk as fuck, and we stole their picnic table for our front porch, and I dug a belt out of their dumpster that I still wear and am in fact currently wearing. I should point out that, while I didn't actually aid in the theft of the picnic table, I didn't do anything about the situation beyond enjoy the picnic table. This was still the early days of my restaurant career in which I constantly promised myself that this job was certainly the last. Ten years ago may have been the summer that I worked as a laborer for a drywall company. That job sucked.
What was I doing one year ago?
Mostly what I'm doing now. Sadly, I was just as lazy about getting out and doing anything, and I was still to satisfied with sitting at the computer rather than do much else. It's a sad situation this, and one that I'm working on working on. I really am starting to waste the whole point of staying at home with the boys.
Really? five snacks that I enjoy?
1. Kettle Chips rippled, salt and pepper
2. Senor Taco's salsa bar
3. Moose Tracks ice cream
4. At the pizza place I used to work at we had black bean hummus. I used to spread that on a pita, top it with salsa and cheese and melt the whole thing in the oven. That was some good eating.
5. hard boiled egg dipped into a pile of salt and pepper
Do I know the words to five songs?
I've never been good at this, but I'm sure I can try.
1. Bankshot-Operation Ivy. So, it's the only lyric, almost, some guy shouting "BANKSHOT" over some of the greatest ska/punk ever.
2. Tennessee Stud-Johnny Cash, though written by Jimmy Driftwood, nonetheless, Johnny Cash most likely did it best.
3. Sunday Morning Coming Down-Johnny Cash yet again. This time we get Kris Kristoferson as the writer, who I'd like to hear do the song, but again, Johnny taught me the song.
4. I can't think of another song. Is it alright to look at the cd's laying around and find a song I know the words of? It seems like cheating, but I'm really just drawing a blank. Oh, Iron Man-Black Sabbath. But really, who doesn't know the words to Iron Man? seriously
5. Bales of Cocaine-Reverend Horton Heat. This is just a fun song, ain't no two ways about it.
Oh yeah, the five things millionaire question.
I'm the $2-4 a week powerball guy, so I think about this once in a while.
1. The debt would all disappear, possibly the most fun.
2. I'd show Momma and the boys a really great time in some really cool place. The hard part would be where to spend a little money somewhere in the world.
3. I imagine that we'd save plenty of money to move somewhere cool and open a restaurant that would then become our income so that we didn't end up like some busted ass lottery rich redneck left broke with a trailer mortgage and a dwindling supply of Harleys as the debts came due.
4. By this time I've become a good citizen, supporting NPR and donating whenever the guy in the fez shows up. We've invested the remainder of our million well and are able to take really great trips with the boys who are learning that their homeschool is global.
5. See number 4
I don't have five bad habits do I?
1. Smoking
2. I could drink a little less, but I could also not.
3. Internetting
4. I still shout way too much. I'm still working on it, and I'm hoping the boys notice it. But it just seems such a natural and unimpeded motion till I catch myself half way through. I'm starting to get the point earlier though, so I'm sure I'm slowly figuring out how to be less of an asshole.
5. Language! I think I caught The Boy saying a fave cuss word of mine recently. I did the "not pointing it out" thing. I'm pretty sure he cussed though.
Five things I like doing is totally easy. I totally like doing at least five things.
1. Drinking a bloody mary at brunch on a Sunday morning.
2. Playing soccer. I miss it, but I'm scared as the fall approaches knowing that I'm in no condition to play, that I won't likely become unlazy and that these haven't stopped me in the past.
3. Playing video games. I had a great time with Medal of Honor-Rising Sun, as Big Brother and I played the different levels together. That isn't an option on Frontline, the MOH newest to us, though not the newest version of the game. I try to be cool when we play versus each other and he beats me, but he does, and I'm not always.
4. Saying inane things to The Boy knowing the specific response I will get just to hear his delightfully funny way of saying certain things.
5. Going off with righteous, if misguided sometimes, indignation about just about anything. In real life, I'm always moments from a good fussing about random subject, especially if I've recently read about it somewhere, like a magazine.
Five items of clothing that I won't ever wear again?
1. There's the parachute pants that I got as hand me downs from a friend after they were no longer cool. The person from whom the pants had been handed down, upon my first time ever wearing parachute pants, a fashion statement that I'd longed to make, asked me if I was waiting for them to come back in style. And I had to wear those pants all night after that.
2. The Lucero shirt that shrunk in the wash, but it'll look fine on Momma.
3. The t-shirt from the christian school that occupied so much of my youth, though I also can't stand to get rid of it.
4. The boxers with the snaps that were an adult hand me down. I thought they were neat if pointless when I first saw them, but I'm forever sucking in my stomach to avoid unsnapping them whenever I need to do extreme vertical movements, as opposed to minor adjustments. That snap is tiny and hard to fasten sometimes, especially when some kid is screaming, and I just don't like them, the boxers. But they have a nice stripe pattern, so I hate to get rid of them, just in case.
5. The box of shirts sitting in the hallway needing to go to Goodwill when I next take the recycling. That's sort of cheating, but it is a box of things I won't wear again.
My five favorite toys? What counts as a toy?
1. My computer? Does that count?
2. Our tax refund stereo in the car. We finally have a cd player in the car! Which goes first, the Honda factory speakers or the kids heads?
3. Nintendo Gamecube
4. Wooden train track. We have a nice little pile of tracks, and I'm often frustratedly enjoying trying to build a big track, using as many pieces as possible while not ending up with a bunch of crap going nowhere. It can be a challenge. And I'm leaning toward Percy lately as a favorite.
5. I've run out of toys. I really have. Maybe I should use some of that million dollars from earlier on something cool.
What was I doing ten years ago?
Momma and I had been together just over a year at this point, little aware what this coupling would result in. We lived in a shady little shit hole on the side of a gravel parking lot belonging to what we were assured was the only lesbian bar in Rock Hill, SC. We were punk as fuck, and we stole their picnic table for our front porch, and I dug a belt out of their dumpster that I still wear and am in fact currently wearing. I should point out that, while I didn't actually aid in the theft of the picnic table, I didn't do anything about the situation beyond enjoy the picnic table. This was still the early days of my restaurant career in which I constantly promised myself that this job was certainly the last. Ten years ago may have been the summer that I worked as a laborer for a drywall company. That job sucked.
What was I doing one year ago?
Mostly what I'm doing now. Sadly, I was just as lazy about getting out and doing anything, and I was still to satisfied with sitting at the computer rather than do much else. It's a sad situation this, and one that I'm working on working on. I really am starting to waste the whole point of staying at home with the boys.
Really? five snacks that I enjoy?
1. Kettle Chips rippled, salt and pepper
2. Senor Taco's salsa bar
3. Moose Tracks ice cream
4. At the pizza place I used to work at we had black bean hummus. I used to spread that on a pita, top it with salsa and cheese and melt the whole thing in the oven. That was some good eating.
5. hard boiled egg dipped into a pile of salt and pepper
Do I know the words to five songs?
I've never been good at this, but I'm sure I can try.
1. Bankshot-Operation Ivy. So, it's the only lyric, almost, some guy shouting "BANKSHOT" over some of the greatest ska/punk ever.
2. Tennessee Stud-Johnny Cash, though written by Jimmy Driftwood, nonetheless, Johnny Cash most likely did it best.
3. Sunday Morning Coming Down-Johnny Cash yet again. This time we get Kris Kristoferson as the writer, who I'd like to hear do the song, but again, Johnny taught me the song.
4. I can't think of another song. Is it alright to look at the cd's laying around and find a song I know the words of? It seems like cheating, but I'm really just drawing a blank. Oh, Iron Man-Black Sabbath. But really, who doesn't know the words to Iron Man? seriously
5. Bales of Cocaine-Reverend Horton Heat. This is just a fun song, ain't no two ways about it.
Oh yeah, the five things millionaire question.
I'm the $2-4 a week powerball guy, so I think about this once in a while.
1. The debt would all disappear, possibly the most fun.
2. I'd show Momma and the boys a really great time in some really cool place. The hard part would be where to spend a little money somewhere in the world.
3. I imagine that we'd save plenty of money to move somewhere cool and open a restaurant that would then become our income so that we didn't end up like some busted ass lottery rich redneck left broke with a trailer mortgage and a dwindling supply of Harleys as the debts came due.
4. By this time I've become a good citizen, supporting NPR and donating whenever the guy in the fez shows up. We've invested the remainder of our million well and are able to take really great trips with the boys who are learning that their homeschool is global.
5. See number 4
I don't have five bad habits do I?
1. Smoking
2. I could drink a little less, but I could also not.
3. Internetting
4. I still shout way too much. I'm still working on it, and I'm hoping the boys notice it. But it just seems such a natural and unimpeded motion till I catch myself half way through. I'm starting to get the point earlier though, so I'm sure I'm slowly figuring out how to be less of an asshole.
5. Language! I think I caught The Boy saying a fave cuss word of mine recently. I did the "not pointing it out" thing. I'm pretty sure he cussed though.
Five things I like doing is totally easy. I totally like doing at least five things.
1. Drinking a bloody mary at brunch on a Sunday morning.
2. Playing soccer. I miss it, but I'm scared as the fall approaches knowing that I'm in no condition to play, that I won't likely become unlazy and that these haven't stopped me in the past.
3. Playing video games. I had a great time with Medal of Honor-Rising Sun, as Big Brother and I played the different levels together. That isn't an option on Frontline, the MOH newest to us, though not the newest version of the game. I try to be cool when we play versus each other and he beats me, but he does, and I'm not always.
4. Saying inane things to The Boy knowing the specific response I will get just to hear his delightfully funny way of saying certain things.
5. Going off with righteous, if misguided sometimes, indignation about just about anything. In real life, I'm always moments from a good fussing about random subject, especially if I've recently read about it somewhere, like a magazine.
Five items of clothing that I won't ever wear again?
1. There's the parachute pants that I got as hand me downs from a friend after they were no longer cool. The person from whom the pants had been handed down, upon my first time ever wearing parachute pants, a fashion statement that I'd longed to make, asked me if I was waiting for them to come back in style. And I had to wear those pants all night after that.
2. The Lucero shirt that shrunk in the wash, but it'll look fine on Momma.
3. The t-shirt from the christian school that occupied so much of my youth, though I also can't stand to get rid of it.
4. The boxers with the snaps that were an adult hand me down. I thought they were neat if pointless when I first saw them, but I'm forever sucking in my stomach to avoid unsnapping them whenever I need to do extreme vertical movements, as opposed to minor adjustments. That snap is tiny and hard to fasten sometimes, especially when some kid is screaming, and I just don't like them, the boxers. But they have a nice stripe pattern, so I hate to get rid of them, just in case.
5. The box of shirts sitting in the hallway needing to go to Goodwill when I next take the recycling. That's sort of cheating, but it is a box of things I won't wear again.
My five favorite toys? What counts as a toy?
1. My computer? Does that count?
2. Our tax refund stereo in the car. We finally have a cd player in the car! Which goes first, the Honda factory speakers or the kids heads?
3. Nintendo Gamecube
4. Wooden train track. We have a nice little pile of tracks, and I'm often frustratedly enjoying trying to build a big track, using as many pieces as possible while not ending up with a bunch of crap going nowhere. It can be a challenge. And I'm leaning toward Percy lately as a favorite.
5. I've run out of toys. I really have. Maybe I should use some of that million dollars from earlier on something cool.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
my boxing moment
It's a Friday, Momma's latest of late work nights. The boys are in bed and even asleep. I've got the television on, flipping through the channels wondering if I want to get back online or perhaps shoot some Nazis in Medal of Honor. As I stroll from channel to channel, I ponder my options while wishing there was something good on late on a Friday night.
So what do I find? The Contender, a reality show based on boxing. I remember boxing, back when it would actually come on regular tv. At some point, it seemed to disappear into a world of cable and pay per view. So much for getting to see Sugar Ray Leonard on Wide World of Sports.
But now, I'm a grown ass man, and my wife makes enough money that we have cable, and I find that some late nights, my choice in watching men beat the crap out of each other is most interesting. Not every night can be last year's UFC reality show, but boxing is fun too.
So we get that I'm okay with fighting and watching grown ass men beat on each other. I'm enough of a fan to watch, but I'm not buying the magazine and learning all their names. When presented with a chance to watch a fight, I have to go with what I'm given by tv to decide on a favorite. Watching The Contender tonight, I was certain that I liked the younger guy. I don't know why, but it's likely that as I landed on the channel, his profile bit, the part where he talks about what the upcoming fight means, started to win me over. Maybe it's just because I saw his first without having any actual knowledge of the person or the show. I know of the show, I just don't go out of my way to watch it . . .usually.
I don't know exactly how The Contender works. The UFC show has a bunch of guys separated into two teams. The separate teams train then meet every so often to beat each other up. They all live in a big house and we get to spy on the day to day . . .blah . . .blah . . .reality show. We all know how reality shows work, unless there are those of us lucky enough to have just avoided the whole sordid mess. But I never actually watch this show unless I happen to catch an actual fight. I just want the fights, not the mundane training crap, the parts that make it a reality show instead of just boxing.
I'm liking the first guy and thinking he's really a peach. Then the second guy's profile starts. He seems cool too, and he's as likeable as the other guy, but I don't feel my temporary allegiance wavering until the prefight bit. They show each guy in their separate dressing rooms. I'm sure that, for the show, they've been locked away in a secret location away from their loved ones, and just before the fight, their loved ones make an appearance. It plays great out in the sticks.
Guy one has a girlfriend who sounds really great. She has stuck with him and they are totally in love. Second guy has a fiancee, and three kids. I didn't really feel myself waver till the kids showed up. Then it was seeing guy number two with his youngest son, roughly the same age as my youngest. Then I was done. I wavered all the way over to guy number two. He won my allegiance from guy number one by having kids.
The youngest kid wasn't at the fight. The older kids were ringside, and the looks on their faces were awesome. They seemed used to seeing dad being busted around as well as busting around himself. The fight, with the crazy tv camera work that they use to add some extra zing, was outrageous. They just about walked at each other swinging the whole time. Guy number two was the clear winner through most of the fight, though it was seriously close for most of the fight. They both wanted it so bad.
At the end of the fight, you could see that guy number two's kids were completely certain that he'd won. I was pretty sure of it as well. I almost got a little choked up when it was confirmed. I had a moment there on the sofa, watching a boxing reality show, all because some guy's kids showed up.
So what do I find? The Contender, a reality show based on boxing. I remember boxing, back when it would actually come on regular tv. At some point, it seemed to disappear into a world of cable and pay per view. So much for getting to see Sugar Ray Leonard on Wide World of Sports.
But now, I'm a grown ass man, and my wife makes enough money that we have cable, and I find that some late nights, my choice in watching men beat the crap out of each other is most interesting. Not every night can be last year's UFC reality show, but boxing is fun too.
So we get that I'm okay with fighting and watching grown ass men beat on each other. I'm enough of a fan to watch, but I'm not buying the magazine and learning all their names. When presented with a chance to watch a fight, I have to go with what I'm given by tv to decide on a favorite. Watching The Contender tonight, I was certain that I liked the younger guy. I don't know why, but it's likely that as I landed on the channel, his profile bit, the part where he talks about what the upcoming fight means, started to win me over. Maybe it's just because I saw his first without having any actual knowledge of the person or the show. I know of the show, I just don't go out of my way to watch it . . .usually.
I don't know exactly how The Contender works. The UFC show has a bunch of guys separated into two teams. The separate teams train then meet every so often to beat each other up. They all live in a big house and we get to spy on the day to day . . .blah . . .blah . . .reality show. We all know how reality shows work, unless there are those of us lucky enough to have just avoided the whole sordid mess. But I never actually watch this show unless I happen to catch an actual fight. I just want the fights, not the mundane training crap, the parts that make it a reality show instead of just boxing.
I'm liking the first guy and thinking he's really a peach. Then the second guy's profile starts. He seems cool too, and he's as likeable as the other guy, but I don't feel my temporary allegiance wavering until the prefight bit. They show each guy in their separate dressing rooms. I'm sure that, for the show, they've been locked away in a secret location away from their loved ones, and just before the fight, their loved ones make an appearance. It plays great out in the sticks.
Guy one has a girlfriend who sounds really great. She has stuck with him and they are totally in love. Second guy has a fiancee, and three kids. I didn't really feel myself waver till the kids showed up. Then it was seeing guy number two with his youngest son, roughly the same age as my youngest. Then I was done. I wavered all the way over to guy number two. He won my allegiance from guy number one by having kids.
The youngest kid wasn't at the fight. The older kids were ringside, and the looks on their faces were awesome. They seemed used to seeing dad being busted around as well as busting around himself. The fight, with the crazy tv camera work that they use to add some extra zing, was outrageous. They just about walked at each other swinging the whole time. Guy number two was the clear winner through most of the fight, though it was seriously close for most of the fight. They both wanted it so bad.
At the end of the fight, you could see that guy number two's kids were completely certain that he'd won. I was pretty sure of it as well. I almost got a little choked up when it was confirmed. I had a moment there on the sofa, watching a boxing reality show, all because some guy's kids showed up.
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