the non-blog that satisfy...

There is the possibility that the missing "s" just fell off, or was written by the same guy who wrote the script for:



"We could win STEP Monster."
"You got a serious STEP, but this is a whole 'nother level."
"You keep STEPpin' like you been STEPpin' lately, I'll kill you my damn self."
"STEP Monster comp... against MY crew!?"
"The one, the only, STEP Monster competition!"
"This is the best STEP competition in the UNIVERSE y'all!"

That's seven STEPS, just in the 2 minute preview.
I wish the producers of this movie would take seven STEPS off a six STEP platform at the top of the Empire State Building.

strange wilderness...

For all you really need to know about this movie, please fast forward the preview to :54 and listen until :55, then loop.

Apparently, the big joke in this movie is the thing with the buck-tooth, somewhat, looking shark. It must be the big joke because it's shown for a full 1/5th of the preview.
Imagine you are this joke. You are not pretentious. You know your place in the world. You know you're a quick throw-away that is designed only to elicit a small chuckle and you are okay with that.
Then the producers come and unmercifully grind your face into the concrete until you are no longer causing chuckles or smiles. Instead, now, you are causing pain, grief and discontent and are reviled across the land.

Another big joke in the preview has the MAC dude asleep at a table, but no one can tell, because he has eyes tattoo-ed on his eyelids so when he has his eyes closed he looks like his eyes are open and the guys at the table are all talking to him like he is awake when he is really sleeping because he's, like, a total druggy, or something, and then other guys at the table yell at him because they are like, "What's with this guy? His eyes are clearly open yet he is not responding to our prompts. We should prompt him with more vigor.", and they yell until he is shocked into waking up and he tells them he has eyeballs tattoo-ed on his eyelids and they are all like, "Well. That's weird."

See how long it took you to read that? That's how long it feels like they dwell on that very old, been used since, I believe, Happy Days or Welcome Back Kotter, "joke".

The fat guy from SuperBad is in this movie and that seems like a shame.

I think this movie would be a lot better if Martin Lawrence was in it.

part 3 of 3...

Here are the final minutes of my small child quizzing me.

It's All About Me

I would actually be interested in a quiz book where the quizzes are designed for a small child to ask their parent.

Maybe small child and I should write one.

intermission...

Abide this small intermission in the ongoing 3 part swarvey and small child facadecast.
I have a sad, little confession to make.

For those of you who are not up-to-date, I will summarize.

The nice old lady who works at the Dunkin' Donuts used to refer to me as "hon" when I stopped by for my iced coffee in the morning.
One morning, I tapped the back bumper of a crazy woman in a Toyota truck who had the bad habit of stopping short in front of me. She told everyone in the Dunkin' Donuts that I was the devil for hitting her. From that point forward, the nice old lady stopped calling me "hon".
It bummed me out.
Yesterday morning, my small child and I stopped at the Dunkin' Donuts. I got my coffee and she got a wheat bagel and some milk. The total was $4.04. I gave the nice old lady at the window a 5-er. And told her to keep the change.

Ninety-four cents!! Good lord. That's like a 25% tip! Crazy.

Why did I do that? I hoped that, on a subliminal level, I would appear to be a good guy again and that she would call me "hon" some more.
I am both proud and embarrassed to say it worked.

I'm "hon" again. I bought my way back into the heart of the nice old lady at the Dunkin' Donuts.
It's so tawdry.

swarvey and small child part 2...

In this episode we look at the Annoy-O-Meter and I pick my nose and say totally a lot.

This is part 2 of 3.

Annoy-O-Meter

my small child and i made a facadecast...

My daughter quizzed me from the book "It's All About Me".
It's a quiz book for little girls.

This is part 1 of 3.



Quizzed by small child.

i had some water...

I decided to have my body fat and over-all healthy-ness level measured. I might have found a better way to spend my time and the 35 dollars it cost. It was a bit of a pain, and I mean that very specifically.
My body fat was measured with the calipers method. For those of you who are not familiar with this method, it's basically where a technician grabs your fat flabs with a pair of pliers and squeezes until little numbers pop out. Then they write those numbers down.
When the technician gets to the lovehandles area and pinches the crippity-crap outta you, it really, really hurts a lot.
Interestingly, the very next thing on the list of measurements for your over-all healthy-ness is a blood pressure check.
The pinching hurt to the point where I wanted to punch the dude in his throat. Like, climb into his throat and punch him from inside his throat, because I think that would be really unpleasant for him.
Not surprisingly, after the intense pain, my blood pressure was a little high.

This post is not about the process of getting my body fat measured, though. It's about what happened the next day. My fat content was higher than it really should be so I've made some alterations to my day.
One of the things I know I need to do is drink more water.
At lunch yesterday, I bought a large bottle of water instead of a Coke Zero.
This post is about the bottle of water.

After lunch, I needed to use... the facilities. I needed to use them in the way where you are in a sitting position, not a standing one.
I had the bottle of water with me,
When I was finished with the facilities, I forgot the water in the stall. I didn't remember that I had left it in the stall until 15 minutes later.
The water became a lost soldier. There was no way I could get that water back. Well, that's not accurate. I could get the water back, but there's no way I could ever drink it.
Even though I don't really think anyone in my professional environment would do any of these things, all I could picture was a guy dropping a booger into my bottle or rubbing his butt cheeks on it or, really, touching it in any way either while, or just after, using the facilities.
It was suggested to me that I just go get the bottle and deal with it. The thought of getting the bottle and drinking the water, while having the thought that some kind of hanky-panky went on with the bottle, was enough to make me almost throw up some.
A thought inside a thought. A thought of a thought.
I might need help.

facadecast 2...

A few days ago, http://swarveyland.blogspot.com/2008/01/thank-god-for-dunkin-donuts.html happened.




Then today...
Here.

r.i.p. heath ledger...

Steve called and informed me of the untimely passing of Heath Ledger. He was concerned that he, Steve, was a bad person, because, his first response to finding out that H.L. was dead,was, "Hey. What about Batman?"
I thought that I was a worse person, because, if the outcome of the investigation discovers that he, Heath, committed suicide, I will think that he is a giant a-hole. Another guy with a perfect life. Handsome, making all kinds of money doing what I only WISH I could do... Like, you jerkass, how dare you feel the need to commit suicide?
So I thought I was worse.
Steve countered with, "Yeah. But at least your reaction is empathic on some level. You're seeing humanity and commenting on it. All I'm worried about is how this is going to effect me being able to watch Batman movies."
This is not a direct quote. Another reason why the f-cast is a good idea. However, it is on target for the spirit of what he said.
He's right. He wins.
He is both worser and more assholier than I am.

Yay Steve!

welcome to facadecast number 1...

Working on the format.

Screwing around last night.

Not the best content or sound quality. Don't get your hopes up.

i call dibbs on this...

Unless someone comes up with something else REALLY good, I know what I will call all non-podcasts that take place here on swarveyland.
From this point forward, all audio bits will be referred to as:

Facade-Casts

F-Casts for short.

I Google-d it. No one else, that I can see, is using it in the way I am using it. It's mine.

You wish you were as clever and self-deprecating as me.

now with more non-podcast things...

For those of you who may not be aware that I am aware, let me assure you that I am aware.
I know that this non-blog, now with non-podcasts, thing, will never go anywhere or be anything more than that what it is, and I know why. People who like bloggy things like to go to them for specific reasons. You read one guys page because he has good information on mp3 software or video game news or good recipes or how to score with the chicks. You go there and read and listen and watch or whatever, for a reason.
Here, there is no reason. I'm all over the place.
Text, pictures, video and now sound about pop-culture, Dunkin' Donuts, the gym, my wife, and stuff that happens as I randomly go through life.
Maybe you laugh. Or chuckle. A snort perhaps. That's all I'm looking for and I don't care how I get it.

I'm okay with it being what it is, is my point.

Now, I'm attempting to venture into non-podcasts to spice up the swarveyland. I've read articles and looked at some books on how to have a successful podcast(non) and I know, everything I am going to do will be nothing that has been recommended as good practices.
It will be specific in no way at all. It will be about whatever happens to be happening. It will be of random lengths. There may or may not be a theme song, and if there is, it probably won't be on every one. It will be of varying quality depending on the devices I have handy.
The only thing that you can rely on is that if one shows up, it's there because I thought something funny happened in it.
That's it. That's as specific as it's ever going to be.

With all that in mind, here's a good example. In this episode, Steve comes up with a good point of discussion for what will be our first non-podcast.

Blu-ray or standard?

I have to put a spoiler alert on this next one. We saw Cloverfield last night. I now know what's really going on, so I know what we are talking about is not exactly a spoiler. Really doesn't spoil anything, but we are talking about something that happened in the last second of the film.
Well, the last second of the credits. The movie is listed as being 1:24 in length. A full 15 minutes of that seem to be the end credits.
The end credits go on and on and on and on. There is no score to the movie, as you are watching it all through the view of a camcorder. A soundtrack would have broken the illusion unless you had one guy constantly running around a monster-attacked NYC with a camcorder he refused to drop and another guy running around with a boombox he refused to drop.
But, they must have paid for a score to be created. Maybe the score was created before the producers really knew where they were going with the film, maybe they just had one lying around. In any case, someone wanted their ENTIRE score used.
Movie going regular geek-types know that sometimes movie makers will put a clue or something interesting either in the credits or right after the credits.
We waited and waited for the end credits to end.
Eventually they did and we were rewarded with what sounded like someone whispering through static, "Now what?"
That sets off the following conversation. The voice, in fact, is not saying "Now what?" It's saying something else.
See? That's why this is technically a spoiler though it spoils nothing.

Here you go!

Now what?

thank god for dunkin' donuts...

I don't know what I'd go on about half the time if not for D and D.

Here is some more remote non-podcasting. Again, bear in mind that I only ever find anything interesting enough to devote one take to it. Once, I've said it, I don't wanna go back and say it again.
I'm going to claim that this is to capture the realism of live, as-it-happens action, but it's really only because I'm super lazy.

Enjoy!

While in the D and D drive-thru this morning...

remote non-podcasting...

One take only, no prep at all, bad audio quality, non-podcast found here.

I've been talking about doing this or something like it for a while. I'm trying to get Steve and the Mysterious M to play with me, but so far they have been both hesitant and reticent.
I'm still working on it. In the meantime, there is the above. It was captured on my phone while I was driving to the gym. I manage to only say, "Umm..." and "Uh.." seven or eight times, which isn't bad.
Some things I forgot to mention.
The site where you can capture MP3s from your very own phone is Drop.io. When you set up your drop to dial in to, you are given a number with a generated extension just for you. It's wicked neat. However, the number you are dialing in to is in NY, so bear it in mind if you pay for long distance. I don't know anyone who even says "long distance" anymore, but I thought I'd mention it.
Also, obviously, it eats minutes. I don't care because I have the maximum legal amount of rollover minutes in my account. I think, seriously, I have 3,500 minutes. That's like 60 hours. I think I'll be okay.
As I say in the 'cast, it's like Flo Jo and Courtney Love had a baby. What would the baby be? Quick and dirty. (How do you like that? Flo Jo and Courtney Love in the same joke. How timely. The only thing that would make it better would be a Kriss Kross reference. Which I guess I just made.)
The question now is, if I want to keep trying to do these one off, no prep, what-ever-they-ares, should I go with this format or drop a little money on a semi-decent digital recorder I can carry around with me as part of my ever increasing collection of semi-useful electronic crap?

If you read, let me know what you think, if you think anything.

here's some stuff...

You ever have a nightmare and have no idea at all why it's a nightmare?
I had a dream last night that I was little and that I had taken the handset from an old fashioned wired-y type phone under the blankets and pillows in my bed with me and had fallen asleep with it. In the dream, my mother comes into the room and says, not screaming, but in a loud, stern voice, "Barry Fletcher is on the phone."
It scared the hell out of me, but I don't know why. At least, I didn't know why, until now.
I believe this:

is the Barry Fletcher from my dream.
He owns a hair care items and hair care products company. His website refers to items and products as two different things, not me.
Anyway, when looking for his products, I find this:
NOTE: We are currently out of stock on the Holistic Egg Creme Pomade.
I love Holistic Egg Creme Pomade and knowing it is unavailable is very scary.

In other news...
I was in a meeting yesterday where we were going over possible scheduling changes for an upcoming series of classes. I was going to suggest we trade two classes.
I suggested the change by asking if we could "swip-swap" the dates.
Luckily, I was the one who caught myself saying "swip-swap" and called it out before anyone else could make a comment.
This is a minor saving grace as I still said "swip-swap".
People were being helpful suggesting possible reasons why I might have said it, like, maybe I was thinking flip-flop and switch at the same time. This is very helpful, except I didn't do that. For some unknown reason, I really meant to say "swip-swap".
I am displeased with myself.

you tube idol...

I have to write this before I listen to any radio shows so I can take full credit for the stupid jokes I am about to write.
I watched American Idol last night. The first couple of nights are the only times the show is worth watching. The rest of it is crap.
When the maniacs come out, that's when it's fun.
Sadly, more and more of the maniacs are clearly people who are just looking for some You Tube play.
The rest of this is only going to work for you if you saw the show.
IF you saw the show, you saw the "creepy" guy. There were actually three creepy guys and I will present them in creep magnitude, from lowest to highest.
The lowest guy on the creepy guy scale was the guy who pretended to be all in love with Paula. He stared at her a lot and sang a song with a lot of words that rhymed with stalk. Because, the song was about how he was going to stalk her.
If he was Colombo, he would Peter Falk her.
If she was a bathtub, he would caulk her.
These were the lyrics. It was obviously fake and only so he could see how many You Tube hits he gets today. I wish everyone would be nice and not look at him on You Tube.
The song wasn't bad. Kind of clever. I used to write similar stuff when I was 13 and reading a lot of Shel Silverstein poetry.

The second guy going up the creep charts was the sad 39 year old man who sang the song about No Sex Around Here, or No Sex For You, or No Sex At All Ever, or something like that. It was about a guy who's sexed-up girlfriend comes over his house for some sex, but how he was too strong to give in to her desires and rebukes her.
This was a work of total fiction.
Whatever the song was actually called, it really should have been called The Sour Grapes Song.
This guy claimed to be, beyond a singer/songwriter, a social worker. I have never seen someone who was a social worker, but who clearly needed a social worker so much at the same time before.
His head looked just like the teacher from The Incredibles. You know the one that Dash gets with the pin on the chair bit? Just like that. Only his head though.
The rest of him was a lot worse.

The MOST creepy guy on the show last night might make it under the radar. We'll see. I think people will pick up on this though it was not made a big deal of on the show.
The Asian looking fellow who whisper-sang the lullaby.
Yikes.
The producers of the show decided to make it look funny and silly like he was putting the judges to sleep, but I could picture the guy singing that song in that way while he tucked his girlfriend's body back under his mattress for safe keeping. Or, perhaps, while crushing kittens.

There was the fat guy in the Princess Laya costume who did the 40 Year Old Virgin bit of getting waxed. Didn't look staged at all.
There was the dorky chick in the Princess Laya costume who's parents were really old and probably had produced her with out of date genetic material.

And there was the football player chick who I won't really make fun of because she cried like she was six when she got turned down. It was very sad.
However, she was enormous. Not like she was just fat; she was a giant! The judges felt bad for her and went to give her a group hug, which, if they really wanted to hug her, they would have had no choice but to do. OH!!
Anyway, Paula went up to her to stroke her face and wipe some of her tears away, which was nice. It looked like an eyelash gently stroking a dirigible.
I expected to see Paula's feet kicking wildly out of the girl's mouth as she was swallowed whole.
But I'm not going to make fun of the sad girl.
I am Captain Ass-head!

yay toyota...

I am sad to see the Toyotathon is no longer in session. And I'm not even shopping for a car.
Do you remember the commercials they were showing around Christmas time, into the beginning of the new year?
People, in the commercials, were looking for reasons to have to buy a new vehicle, because of the incredible end-of-the-year deals that could only be found during Toyotathong... er.. thon.
These people were seen chopping down trees with chainsaws so those trees would fall on their old car, burying their cars in snow so convenient snowplows would neatly slice them in two and pushing their cars off the top floor of parking garages.
For a long time, you would see, at the bottom of the screen during these activities, "DO NOT ATTEMPT".
But, and this to me is a minor miracle, the recent showings of the commercials had the "DO NOT ATTEMPT" removed! Yay!
Some hotshot young upstart of a lawyer for them must have decided to shake things up. He probably said, "Listen. If some family decides to drop a Wile E. Coyote boulder on top of their car, then tries to sue us for damages because they saw it on our commercial, I think we can win."

Apparently, the people over at Pepperidge Farms do not feel the same sense of security. They have a commercial of a large, pretzel looking Goldfish snack cracker doing some stunts under a child's bed.
First off, the kid's parents should be carted away, because under this bed is a hazardous waste dump of toys and clothes and snack crackers.
Second off, there is a warning stating that the cracker is a professional stuntman and that what he is doing should not be attempted.
It is a cartoon.
It is a cartoon of a cracker.
It is a cartoon of a small cracker, sliding on small items, under a child's bed.
If the caption had read "Professional stuntcracker. Do not attempt.", I would have found it clever and lovely. It does not.
Here is a frame from the commercial, right off the Pepperidge Farm site.


Pepperidge Farm remembers... how to stupidly cover their asses

i got 'noid all over me...

This weekend I ordered Domino's for myself and my daughter. Jenn is attempting to eat more healthy, so she opted out.
Generally, when it the three of us partaking, I order a large pepperoni and a medium cheese, as my daughter does not like the pepperoni.
Fascinating, I know.
When I called this weekend, I ordered a large, half pepperoni pizza. As I am a dork that never has cash on me anymore, due to constant use of the debit card, I went out and fetched the pizza.
I got it home and put it on the counter. As I was getting plates out, my daughter opened the box and said, "This is a different kind of cheese.", which I knew meant something was wrong with the pizza.
This is what Domino's made, when I asked for a half-pepperoni pizza.


It might be hard to see what the problem is, so here are some close-ups.
Here is the lovely pepperoni side:

Looks yummy and delicious, doesn't it? Well it isn't, because it's Dominos, but it is at least what you expect from a freaking pizza.

Here is the other side. Note that I have not labeled the other side as the condiment-of-any-kind side:

What do we have here? Crusty crust, saucy sauce and cheesy... no wait. No cheesy anything. They made a half pepperoni/cheese and half crust/sauce pizza.
As you can see, there are two pieces missing. My daughter didn't care at all that there wasn't any cheese on her half of the, whatever you would call that thing which is actually only half a pizza. So she missed out on even the minute amount of nutrition inherent in a Domino's pizza.
I made her eat a big ol' protein bar for breakfast.

the golden globes...

I heard a report on the news about this year's Golden Globes ceremony and how it won't be as interesting with the stars deciding to not attend due to the writer's strike.
I wish I wasn't so bad with names and proper nouns as the analyst really deserves recognition.
She said that a non-star attended Golden Globes would be just like going to the zoo and finding no animals there.
I don't mind that so much. It would be a better analogy if my daughter made it, though. The zoo?
Well, actually you could think she was being clever with it. I did. Until she said that the Academy Awards could see the same thing and that, perhaps this was only a precursor of things to come.
Really? As opposed to one of things happening right now?
Please stop talking. At least in places where people can hear you.
If not, I will be forced to call the mobile patrol on you.

top 10 things i hate about the gym...

One of my New Year's resolutions was to add more Top 10 lists to my non-blog of little consequence, because there simply are not enough Top 10 lists in the world.
Expect to see many more Top 10 lists here, including my Top 10 list of the best Top 10 lists and Top 10 reasons why cheese is a jerk.

But for today, it's my Top 10 reasons why I hate the gym. A lot of this is going to be ground I've covered before, and probably in a more funnier way, but I've been sick and not sleeping well and I'm basically just treading water.
Why am I bothering to tread water by posting something almost wholly for the sake of just posting something when I've already announced that I would not be posting as much any more? Good question. Look for the answer in the upcoming Top 10 reasons why I contradict myself constantly.
Also, I need to state that I feel okay about re-covering some of this ground as the massive influx of newbies has exacerbated the issues.

These are not in any kind of order because I couldn't think at that complex a level.

Number 10- People talk. You can read that either as "people-talk" meaning the stupid talking of people and the stupid things they say when I hear them, or, "people talk", meaning that people have a tendency to want to talk. To me, sometimes. Which I hate.
I go to the gym alone for a reason. I just want to get it over with. The last thing I want to do is spread out the time by chatting with you over the bubbler.
The other day a lady commented on how clever I was for hanging my coat and hat on the water container holder on the PreCor machine and how she wished she had thought of that because usually she just throws her stuff on the floor and sometimes dust gets on it.
See how boring all that was? How much do you care about what you just read?
After she said it, she looked at me all expectantly like I was going to be able to come up with some answer to her salve of mediocrity. All I could come up with, as I have almost no ability to small-talk is "Heh, heh. Yeah.", followed by what I am sure was a face of uncomfortablenesse.
She spoke no more.

Number 9- Stinky guys. Women tend to smell nice at the gym. I don't know why this is. Men, however, can sure not. I know I posted about the guy who smelled like Old Spice, body odor and fish. He was bad. Other guys have smelled other ways that are also bad. No need to draw pictures, I don't think.

Number 8- People who want to "work in". Worse than a person who just wants to talk, but not as bad as a person who just wants a hug. No, you cannot get on my machine while I am between sets. Find something else to do.

Number 7- Guys who flex in mirrors. Some guys will do a quick flex into a mirror to check the progress of some body part or other. That isn't good, but I can keep my chow down. There are other guys who go into the aerobics room when there isn't a class, take off their shirts, and flex to themselves.
Don't do that.

Number 6- Guys who chat it up with each other while looking around and smiling. Stop smiling. No one wants to see you smirk to yourself or your stupid friends. Smirking jerkass. Be miserable like everyone else.

Number 5- Guys who spit into the water fountain. I shouldn't have to say that, really.

Number 4- People who jump on the PreCor machine before I've had a chance to clean it off. Really? Do you want to fondle my sweat? Be my guest, you knob. I hope you get the same stupid cold I have or finger warts.

Number 3- The people who work at the gym who have conversations with other people while I am standing there like a dork just wanting to pay for my stupid Muscle Milk and go home. Do I need to wave fistfuls of cash? Please. Please take my money! Take-y my money-y!!

Number 2- I don't really care about this as I do not take aerobics class, but I've seen it happen and am amazed. People will walk through the center of an ongoing class, to get to some piece of equipment they just absolutely need, pick it up, turn around and lug it back through the center of the class that is going on around them. This is similar to the "work in" entry.
Is there nothing else you could do during that time? Are you on such a stringent regimen that you cannot veer from it at all? It would be different if these were super buff people I was talking about. Then I could at least say, well, hey, look at the guy. He must know what he's doing. If he thinks he needs that exercise bouncy ball humpty-hump looking thing right now, he must. But when its the progeny of the Pillsbury Doughboy and James Gandolfini... I question the need.

Number 1- This one is in order. This is the number one thing. I hate this above all other things at the gym and it really gets worse with the newbies who do not have a clear understanding of how to exercise, what exercise is for, or their own limits.
Don't drop your goddamn weight from shoulder height onto the floor when you are done with a set.
If you can't, in a controlled fashion, put the weight down when you are done with the set, you are attempting to lift too much.
No one is impressed with the sound it makes when you cannot out the weight down in a controlled fashion.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
I wish you would get testicular Necrotizing Fasciitis.

47 foot fall guy...

From the New York Times:
Alcides Moreno plunged 47 stories that morning last month, clinging to his 3-foot-wide window washer’s platform as it shot down the dark glass face of an Upper East Side apartment building. His brother Edgar, who had been working with him on the platform, was killed.

Somehow, Alcides Moreno survived.

He was given roughly 24 pints of blood and 19 pints of plasma and underwent an operation to open his abdomen in the emergency room because, his doctor said, they did not want to risk moving him to an operating room. As December went on, he endured nine orthopedic operations.

Yet somehow, Alcides Moreno, the man who fell from the sky, survived.

You've all heard of this story, I'm sure. The guy is a phenomenon.
Here's the picture the Times has of him:


I can't decide if this picture was perhaps taken by the same person who takes pictures of Bigfoot, or if it was taken while he was falling.
This is the best picture of him?
I guess I'd ask if his driver's license picture was not available, but given his name and occupation...

oh golly... just... wow...

I was browsing the news this morning and happened upon an article about the possible (probable, now) canceling of Zoey101 after the disturbing announcement that Jamie Lynn is all pregged up.

After the article, there were comments.

Here are some:

rraymond said- Sad, sad, sad story. Do these Spears girls think they are invincible? They must believe that having money means they can do as they please, without having to pay the piper. I wish they would move back to their white trash trailer and stay out of our lives!!!

With all their money, I don't think they are overly concerned about having to compensate the piccolo performer. Don't say "pay the piper" anymore. You, rraymond, are a dopey person who has the most obvious opinions on the planet. Why don't you post something stating that you are not in favor of kitten smooshing?

Britney Spears said- You all just leave my sister alone! I don't think she was 'doin it', she is just extremely fertile, and can gets pregnant by holding hands (just like me)! Okay okay, I maybe done it a couple of times, but I was married and he was beggin. Don't you go judging us.

to which celeste responded- Britney, if that was you...girls get pregnant all of the time. If you have sex, it can make babies...at sixteen or forty. Married or not. I hope your family luck with this, and I hope your little sis can deal with this difficult situation! Not easy to raise a baby and finish school. God bless.

celeste. You are a poor thing. Take the mouse out of the jello. Crayons are not candy. The moon is not talking to you. The number 23 has no effect on the outcome of your life. Put on your aluminum foil beanie and wash your socks.
You are no longer allowed to play on the IntraWeb.


In other news...
Captain Trips is in the air. Even though summertime colds are the worst.
I am sick and everyone at work is sick. People on the radio are sick. People in Florida are sick.
There seems to be sickness all around me.
I have a vital immune system, though.
I'll see you in Boulder... or Vegas.

remote blogging and forgotten things...

The spell check on my phone is not robust enough to offset my horrible spelling. I need it to be robuster.
Interestingly enough, the word robuster does not present as misspelled. What the hell is robuster anyway?
I am going to guess it is a noun. Perhaps a robuster is one who polishes bells. Or, some kind of scallywag.
Er... scallywag does present as misspelled.
Maybe my computer is using the same mind warbling cold medicine I mistakenly used this morning.
Wooo! Woooo!! Spinny head! Wooooooo!!

What is robuster? Hold please.
Hmm... Depends on where you look. Some places it comes up as misspelled, others it does not.
...And now I don't care anymore.

Here are some things I forgot to mention recently.
Jenn has superpowers. Well, she has at least one superpower which I will describe. Beyond the superpower I will describe, she also has the ability to deal with me, which some may say is also a superpower.
So, depending on how you look at it or how you perceive me, she may have superpower(s).
We left her uncle's house at about 9am to catch the train into Manhatten. We walked around in the semi-cold for the better part of 7 hours, drinking coffee and hot chocolate and Diet Coke. We then got back on the train back to her uncle's house.
We were gone for more than 8 hours.
I went to the bathroom before we left in the morning, then three times throughout the day.
Jenn did not go once.
That, to me, is a superpower, and certainly should be on the list of Wonder Woman's capabilities. If it isn't, her continuity needs a re-write. Some comic once asked where Wonder Woman went to the bathroom on the Invisible Jet or Plane or whatever. If she had the superpower of being able to hold her urine for an insane amount of time, like a reverse camel, she wouldn't need a bathroom on the plane.

When we got home from New York, I was getting into my car early in the morning of December 26th, needing to pick up my daughter by 7am. I laughed to myself, "Wouldn't it be funny if the car had a flat tire? Wouldn't that suck?"
Luckily, all the tires were inflated and ready to go. It's fortunate that they were because I would have lost my mind if I had to replace a flat tire after having to REPLACE THE TOTALLY DEAD BATTERY in the car.
I am an idiot. I have my Sirius radio running of the cigarette lighter. It doesn't turn off when I turn off the car. As I am in the car all the damned time, this has no effect. But, leave the car in the very cold for 2+ days with the Sirius slowly draining the battery and... pffft. Wouldn't even take a jump.
Ass.
Hole.
Me.

happy dew year...

Poor Dick Clark. It's time to pack it in there, buddy. Ryan Seacrest has the look of a starving carrion eater.

In other news...

This is the beginning of the bad time of year for those who go to the gym. With all the maniacs in the world buying all the other maniacs in the world gym memberships for Christmas and due to the two and a half month power of New Year's resolutions, they are compelled to use them.
Of course, you can't just have a new gym membership. You need all the crap that goes with it.
So, you see a lot of shiny new sneakers, matching track suits and the requisite mp3-in-an-armband(s) that will be incessantly adjusted.

I don't fault anyone for wanting to get into better shape. God bless 'em. It's the mass influx at the same time every year that is a drag.
Also, you end up with a bunch of older folks who haven't exercised a lot since Laugh-In was big. They end up doing weird calisthenics that Jack Lalanne would scoff at. Lots of trunk twists and lifting barrels and pedaling those bikes where the front tire is seven feet around. They have those in stationary form just for this time of year.